46. Jake
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
jake
TWO WEEKS LATER
Tonight we’ve got fifteen of the best cowboys, cowgirls, and cowboy pairs competing for the chance of a lifetime: a World Championship buckle. Folks, you’ve spent the last nine days cheering them on, and they need you now more than ever! It’s round ten of the National Finals Rodeo. Let’s do it!”
“This is it, boys.” Mikey threw his arms around me and Hayden, joining our circle of friends. “We did it.”
Tonight was the final night of the National Finals Rodeo.
All five of us guys—and Sierra—had made it to the pinnacle event of professional rodeo this year.
It was hard to believe that four years ago it was just Colter and Reid competing at this stage.
We’d come a long way in our professional careers.
Almost as though he read my mind, Hayden said, “Can’t believe we did it. All of us are here at the same time. I feel like that’s pretty rare.”
I shook my head, willing the burning behind my eyes to stop before I embarrassed myself in front of thousands of people. “No getting sappy on us until the rodeo’s over. We’ve got work to do, gentlemen.”
“Amen to that. Let’s bring home some hardware tonight,” Colter added.
The team roping event happened before tie-down roping.
Then barrel racing and finally bull riding.
It figured that Hayden, Colter, and Reid would steal the show before the rest of us had the chance to compete.
Colter and Reid were on track to win a second world championship.
Mikey was predicted to win his first, and if I was lucky, I was in the running for the average.
But truthfully, I was just happy to be there with my friends.
The announcer called out Hayden and Keenan’s names, drawing my attention to the arena. They roped at a time of four-point-two seconds.
A few more teams ran before Colter and Reid’s names were announced.
The arena collectively held their breaths as the pair expertly roped the steer, earning themselves a three-point-five for the night and clinching the world title.
An uproar of cheers filled the arena, the rumbling of boots against bleachers and applause making it impossible to hear anything else.
They were the favorite team roping duo for a reason. Their names would probably go down in history. My chest tightened with pride for my friends, and when they exited the arena, I shouted my congratulations to them.
The rodeo announcer stated the tie-down roping event was next, and the guys all patted me on the back.
“Give ’em hell, buddy.”
With a dip of my chin, I gathered my rope and piggin’ string and waited for my turn in the lineup. The first few athletes went, each of their times blurring in my mind.
“From the great state of Montana, he’s number seven in the World for tie-down roping! Jake Flynn!” The announcer drew out my name as the crowd roared around me.
I tipped my face up to the ceiling, the lights above me flooding the arena. For a moment, I just took it all in. I’d been here before, and I knew I’d be here again, but a small voice inside my head told me to enjoy the moment because there was always the chance I’d never experience it again.
Mounting my horse, I rode into the roping box. My calf had been loaded into the chute, and everyone was ready for me to give the signal. It was all up to me now.
I had one last night to give it my all. Win or lose, I’d know I put it all out on the table and I could leave Vegas knowing I’d done my damn best.
Readying my rope over my shoulder, I gave a subtle nod for the chute to be opened, and the calf sprinted out of the gate.
My horse took off after it, and I swung my rope in the air.
Time seemed to slow as I watched the honda, waiting for the perfect fraction of a second to toss my rope.
Hooves pounded against the dirt, flinging dust into the air.
My heart rate pounded in my ears in a steady drumming rhythm, but my mind was entirely clear.
Not yet…
Not yet…
Now!
I threw my rope, and the loop floated through the air, falling over the calf’s neck. I quickly jerked the slack out of the rope and wrapped it around my saddle horn before hopping off my horse and sprinting to the calf.
My lungs and nose burned, and when I lifted the calf off the ground, my muscles screamed from the exertion, but I managed to get the animal on its side to tie the legs together.
My hands moved swiftly, working the rope with the practiced expertise that had become muscle memory over the course of my rodeo career.
Once the knot was tied, I threw my hands up in the air, and everything rushed back to me. As though I had broken through the surface of water and sound was finally hitting my eardrums again.
Men whooped and hollered, and women cheered above the applause of the audience. I stood from my position on my knees, my palms growing sweaty as I waited the six seconds allowed for the calf to attempt to break free as the horse moved forward.
“Seven-point-five seconds!” the announcer called out.
The breath I was holding left my lungs in a whoosh, and my shoulders finally relaxed.
I did it.
I may not have won, but I did it.
And damn, if I wasn’t proud as hell.
When I exited the arena, my friends ran up to me with a bombardment of encouragement, patting me on the back and congratulating me on a clean run.
Up on the big screen, the camera panned over the area of the stands where Ellison, baby Levi, Isa, Juniper, Whitley, and Caitlin all sat. Juniper tapped Caitlin on the shoulder and pointed up at the screen.
Before the camera panned away, the last thing I saw was Caitlin mouthing the words, I love you.