Here For You, page 12
“Did he buy Smarty?”
“Yep. For a half million. That’ll pay off our taxes and let us rehire Don, who was doing a lot of the training with the cutters before the pandemic hit. We’d have more horses ready for sale if we hadn’t needed to lay him off.”
“That sounds good. What else happened today that’s keeping you up?”
“Brittney wanted to buy Pepper, but Mac said she already had a good horse.”
“How much are you asking for Pepper, if you don’t mind saying?”
“Thirty thousand, because of her great bloodlines. Mac, however, wasn’t willing to pay that.”
“Oh. I’m sorry it didn’t work out.”
“I’m not. I’d rather sell Pepper to someone who’ll care more about their horse than the prize money.”
“What’s still troubling you, then?”
Wil’s shoulders visibly raised and lowered as she heaved a deep sigh. “Brittney’s father wants me to coach her to get better results out of Dash. He offered me two thousand dollars for ten lessons and a five-thousand-dollar bonus if she places in the money at the National Finals Rodeo in December.”
“That’s a lot of cash. Did you agree to do that?” Lacey had all but written off Brittney as a competitive threat, but that could change if Wil coached her.
“I told Mac I was really busy, but Dad jumped in and countered with an offer of five thousand, plus the bonus option and a promise that I wouldn’t under any circumstances marry Brittney.”
“Wh-what?”
“You had to be there. Brittney had threatened to marry a woman after her father told her to marry Bart Roberts and spend his money rather than Mac’s.”
“Ten thousand dollars is a lot to turn down.”
“I was on board with the part about not marrying her, but no amount of money is enough to have to spend ten days coaching her. She won’t listen to a thing I say, so there’s no danger of her doing well at the finals. The competition there is very tough. Before I could decline, though, Dad and Mac were shaking hands on the deal.”
“Your father hired you out?”
“Worse than that. He agreed to let her stay at the ranch the whole time but didn’t tell me until after they left.”
“She’s going to be living with you for ten days?”
“She’s not living with me. She’ll be staying at the house. I told Dad he better get busy putting a double lock on my bedroom door and windows…and the bathroom I’ll have to share with her.”
Lacey’s insecurities ignited. “Yeah. Like he’ll do that.” Ray had been very friendly to her, but keeping Brittney happy would keep his wealthiest client happy. She shouldn’t be surprised. She’d known from the start that Wil was out of her league. Brittney would likely worm her way into Wil’s bed by the third night.
Wil’s face grew larger in the screen. “Look at me, Lace. I’m serious about the locks, and Dad knows it. If he doesn’t install them tomorrow morning, I will.”
“Don’t sweat it. It’s not like we’re serious or anything. We were just having fun.”
“Stop it. This is more than a fling,” Wil said, frowning. “At least it is to me. If you don’t feel the same, I want to know now before I let you break my heart.”
Lacey couldn’t meet Wil’s eyes. She felt like running. But she also wanted desperately to give the instant bond between them a chance. Was she brave enough? “Why would you want me, Wil? I have nothing to offer. I often live off noodles and sandwiches because I’m one horse away from losing my rodeo career and having to beg for a low-paying wrangler job. If Denver ever gets injured, I’m done.” She hadn’t meant to spill her guts, but Wil seemed to have that effect on her.
Wil’s expression softened. “You are a survivor of life. You’re beautiful and smart and accomplished. Despite the obstacles you’ve had to overcome financially, you’re a few points away from qualifying for the National Finals Rodeo.”
Lacey shook her head and opened her mouth to respond, but Wil held her hand up, palm out, to stop her.
“Who can say what causes chemistry between two people? All I know is that after the week we spent together, you’re all I think about.”
Lacey finally returned her smile. “I hope your mind isn’t on me while you’re handling horses. That could be dangerous.”
“Okay. Every moment I’m not training horses.”
“Or Brittney.”
Wil frowned. “I had to spend some time today considering what locks to put on my bath and bedroom.”
Lacey laughed at the fire in Wil’s eyes. “How about concentrating on the good parts? Your dad sold a horse for a half million dollars. It’s hard to even imagine being able to pay that much for one horse.”
“Yeah. Taxes will get a lot of it. But let’s change the subject. You get to answer my questions now.”
“Your questions?”
“Let’s start with what you were doing that kept you busy past your usual bedtime.”
“Oh. I made a new friend and got an invitation to eat dinner at their campsite. I usually prefer my own and Denver’s company, but I had fun tonight.”
“A new friend. That’s great. How’d you meet?”
“I told you about the kids. It’s the mother of the oldest girl, Sam. Andie teaches at a small college and coaches their softball team. Her partner left her after they had Sam.”
“That sucks.” Wil tilted her head this way and that, as if loosening the muscles in her neck, then looked down at her lap. “Is she beautiful?”
Lacey laughed. “She is cute, but I told her we were sort of dating—I hope that’s okay—and she immediately googled you on her phone.” She paused for dramatic effect, then grinned at Wil. “She thinks you’re super-hot.”
Wil laughed. “She must have seen my website picture. A professional photographer took it. She should see me after a day of training horses or slinging hay bales.”
“Crap, woman. Now I won’t get to sleep thinking about a sweaty you in a tank top, jeans, and chaps. Mmm-mmm.” Lacey lowered her voice. “I could lick that sweat off you.”
Wil grabbed the front of her T-shirt and fanned it against her body. “You’re making me sweat right now. What else would you do to me?”
Lacey laughed. “It’s late, and I’m not having video sex with you.”
“Aww.”
“I might not have a lot of work to do tomorrow, but you do. You need to get some sleep.”
“I think I can now. It did help to talk tonight.”
Neither seemed to know how to end their call, until Wil spoke up. “Just for the record, we’re not ‘sort of dating.’ From my point of view, we are dating, and I date only one woman at a time.”
Lacey’s heart skipped a beat. Was Wil insinuating they already were a couple? Her face heated as a wave of shyness washed over her. “For the record, my past has been nothing but a few hookups. One woman at a time sounds like all I can handle since this dating thing is new for me.”
“Okay,” Wil said with a soft smile.
“Okay,” Lacey echoed, then paused. “Talk to you tomorrow?”
“Absolutely.”
“Good night, Wil.”
“Sexy dreams, Lacey.”
Chapter Fourteen
Brittney arrived late, as expected, so Wil was working Flash in the round pen in preparation for some barrel training when she got there.
“Hey, sexy.”
Wil acted as if she hadn’t heard her.
“Are you ignoring me?” Brittney assumed her often-used pouty face.
Wil slowed Flash to a stop and turned to Brittney. “I’m sorry. I thought you were speaking to someone else. My name is Wil, not sexy.”
Brittney climbed over the round pen’s railing and exaggerated her hip-swinging approach. “Now, don’t be that way. I’m only a little late. I had to stop by Mandy’s place to help her pick out a dress for the party this weekend. We have ten fun days ahead of us, and I don’t want to start off with you being all fussy.”
Wil gave her a hard stare. “We have ten days of hard work if you want to make the finals. I’m headed to the ring to work Flash on the barrels. You need to go groom, saddle, and warm up Dash to be ready to run the barrels when I’m done.”
Brittney waved her hand dismissively. “Gabe can do all that. That’s why I had him come along when Cal dropped off Dash and picked up Daddy’s new horse. I figured you had space for him in your bunkhouse since I heard you had to lay off some of your wranglers.”
“I sent him back with Cal. You don’t spend enough time learning Dash’s moods and quirks, and letting him get to know you. Horses aren’t cars. They’re athletes, and you have to learn the best way to coax a top performance out of them.” She gathered up the long lunge line as Flash walked toward them. “So while you’re here, you’ll take care of Dash yourself.”
“And what if I don’t want to?”
“Then you can go home and tell your father that you aren’t willing to put in the effort needed to win.” She opened the gate to leave the round pen.
“Then you won’t get paid.”
“The bonus is the only thing making this worth my time. But if you’re not going to try to learn something, you don’t have a chance at placing in the finals, and I’ll never see that bonus.” Wil started for the barn to saddle Flash, and Brittney followed.
They walked in silence while Brittney appeared to be weighing things.
“I know how to ride my horse. Maybe I’ll get in my car and just go back home.”
Wil could use the money, so she played the last ace she had. “That’s fine. I reckon you don’t want to win bad enough and don’t mind if Lacey Bishop beats you again in Abilene.” She held back a smile when Brittney let out a long, frustrated growl.
“I do want to win.”
“Then you can start by getting your horse ready for a training session.”
“I’m not mucking his stall.”
Wil decided a small concession wouldn’t hurt. “One of our stable hands will clean his stall while you’re training.”
“Okay then.”
* * *
Horses and riders were everywhere in an unorganized chaos, crossing right in front of Lacey and Denver or riding too close behind and beside them. Denver pranced with barely contained anticipation and anxiety through the churning mass of animals and humans as they made their way to the warm-up area.
Lacey grimaced when she reached their destination, where a cluster of about eight riders gathered on their horses in the middle of the medium-sized ring sat chatting. They should go somewhere else if they weren’t actually warming up to ride in an event. She loped Denver around their group several times, then executed a few spins close enough to their horses to make them move away after glaring at her.
“Sorry,” she called out. “There’s just not enough room for those of us who need to get ready to race with you guys sittin’ and talking in the warm-up area.” Then she smiled at the repeated glares and grumbling.
Same as last year, except for the whispers and comments. She had very good hearing.
“Wow. That’s Lacey Bishop. I read she had a really fast time in San Antonio.”
“What’s a ranked racer doing at our rodeo? It’s not fair to the local riders.”
“Look, Mom. That’s Lacey Bishop. I can’t believe she’s here and we get to see her run.”
“She’s probably here ’cause she thinks our grand prize is easy picking. I’ve got a horse that’s going to give her a run for the money.”
“I bet you twenty bucks that she’ll smoke you.”
“I’ll take that bet.”
“I hear she’s a high-and-mighty lesbian bitch.”
“I’m guessing you tried to hit on her, and she shot you down.”
Lacey smiled at the strong but feminine voice making the last comment.
Although one of the larger local rodeos, the event was organized by the town’s local civic clubs, in conjunction with the county fair located adjacent to the rodeo stadium. Most of the civic clubs’ members were city folks—merchants, ministers, teachers, and bankers—who didn’t understand some basic precautions needed to ensure the safety of the audience and the contestants. And it didn’t help that the generous prize money drew every would-be amateur cowboy within a hundred miles. To enjoy as much quiet as possible, Lacey always parked her camper/trailer as far away from the stadium and fair rides as she could in the huge grassy field designated for parking. After all, her behind-the-back commenters were right about one thing—their top prize was easy pickings for her.
This barrel racers’ competition was cumulative. The entire field of thirty posted times on Friday, but only those among the twenty fastest were invited back to run on Saturday. Then the top ten of Saturday’s racers advanced to race for the biggest prizes on Sunday. She and Denver easily posted the best time—nearly two full seconds ahead of her closest competitor—on Friday.
She exited the warm-up area when she heard the stadium announcer introduce the contestant two ahead of her in the lineup. As she approached the stadium, she saw Andie and Sam waving.
“Hey. I wasn’t expecting fans in the crowd.”
“We’re not stalking you or anything,” Andie said. “Sam really wanted to see you compete.”
“I’m glad you came. It’ll be nice to have someone cheering for me,” Lacey said, and she meant it. Denver, hyped from the warm-up and familiar competition sounds coming from the stadium, was focused on the race to come. Lacey had to spin her in a tight circle several times to exchange even a few words with them. “I better get on up there before Denver wears herself out fretting, but come find me at my trailer later if you’re not in a hurry to get back.” She pointed to the field of horse trailers. “I’m parked in the back corner.”
“Yes!” Sam turned begging eyes on her mother. “Please, please, Mom.”
Andie smiled. “That would be great. We’ll find you after we watch a bit more of the rodeo.”
Lacey touched the brim of her hat in acknowledgement, then let her overeager horse trot the rest of the way to the stadium.
* * *
“Next up is Lacey Bishop, riding Dust Storm Denver.” The announcer’s introduction didn’t note she was the only rider ranked among the top twenty-five nationally participating in their rodeo. It could have been intended as a local snub, but she wrote it off as ignorance, since he was likely just a civic-club member with a good voice but little background knowledge of the rodeo circuit.
She twirled Denver at the mouth of the entry chute, then rocketed down the tunnel to break the timer beam.
Denver was in the zone, just like during the last rodeo. Lacey simply had to hold on, lean forward, back, and to the inside so she didn’t impede the mare’s momentum and balance. They shaved each barrel so close, Lacey had to make sure she didn’t have the toe of her boot or an elbow sticking out to tip a barrel.
When they rounded the third barrel and hurdled toward the finish line, she knew they’d turned in another great run—not as fast as in San Antonio, but the footing at these smaller rodeos wasn’t as good, and the barrels were likely no longer precisely placed since they’d been tipped over several times.
“That time of fourteen-point-one-five, combined with her time yesterday of fourteen-oh-eight, keeps Miss Bishop solidly in the lead heading into Sunday’s round.”
As much as she wanted to go find Sam and Andie, she had to walk Denver to cool her down, then bathe and check her over before hanging a full hay net in her trailer. She’d walk her again later, because the field for trailers was too crowded for Lacey to set up her small corral.
She put out three camp chairs by the trailer and hung a few mosquito- and bug-killing lanterns nearby, then sat alone for barely ten minutes before she saw Sam and Andie coming her way. When she made eye contact, Sam broke away from her mother’s side and sprinted to Lacey.
“Wow! You and Denver are the GOAT,” Sam said. “I didn’t know she could run that fast. She was lit, spinning around those barrels without touching them, then turning into the Flash after the last barrel.”
“I can translate for you if needed.” Andie, laughing, arrived at a more sedate pace.
“No, no,” Lacey said. “I’m not around preteens much, but I do stream Netflix and buy a WNBA league pass for streaming games every year. I’ve seen all the superhero movies more than once and know Sue Bird is the GOAT.” She gestured for them to sit down in the chairs she’d set out. “And I think I can figure out the rest.”
Andie rolled her eyes and nodded. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to insinuate you were a hermit, but you go to bed so early, and I didn’t know if you had internet since you move around so much. Plus, I’ve never seen you watching a television or using a laptop. You seem to prefer to sit outside until bedtime.”
Lacey stretched her legs out in front of her. “Contrary to belief, it does rain in Texas. I pay for a satellite internet, but that’s iffy in bad weather. I try to check Hulu, Netflix, and Amazon Prime when the weather’s good to see if they have any movies I want to download to watch later.”
“You might be a nomad, but you don’t seem to be missing out on much.”
“There are concessions. Rodeos like this one don’t have shower facilities. I have a fifty-gallon water tank, but I also need that water to flush the toilet, wash a few dishes, cook, and water Denver. There is a place where I can rinse Denver off after a run, and I usually fill a five-gallon bucket from that hose for some of her drinking water.”
Andie wrinkled her nose and made a show of moving her chair a few more feet away from Lacey’s. “So, you don’t shower all weekend?”
