Page 37 of Sawyer

Putting my sunglasses on, I tuck the timer into the back pocket of my jeans. “You’re developing that muscle memory, which is so important in this sport because things move so fast. You’ll get there. Right now, it’s all about repetition.”

I glance at Sally Powell, the head of veterinary programs here on the Wallace Ranch, who’s cupping her hand over her phone screen as she looks down at it. “The tape ready to view?”

Sally taps her finger against the screen. “Yep. Just putting it in slow motion. Billie, you turn a pretty barrel.”

“Trying, girl, trying.” Billie slides off her horse with the athletic ease of someone who’s been riding her whole life.

“Loretta is on fire,” Sally adds, referring to the gorgeous spotted Appaloosa horse that Billie rides. “She picked right up on you asking her to make more space between y’all and the barrel.”

I nod. “She ran straight and square. Excellent work, truly.”

“That’s because I have an excellent trainer.” Billie unbuckles her helmet.

Grinning, I cross my arms. “Trying, girl, trying.”

My heart swells as I inhale the scents of hay, dirt, and leather. Horse people are my people. I love everything about my job as the ranch’s first and only head trainer. The Wallaces became wealthy over many generations of cattle ranching, and the current owners decided to put that money to use by building world-class horse breeding and training programs on the ranch. My job is training horses and riders in barrel racing, a rodeo sport where riders run a cloverleaf pattern around three barrels as fast as possible.

I absolutely love working with Billie and Sally. Billie is Mr. Wallace’s daughter. She’s a cowgirl through and through, having grown up working cattle and breeding horses alongside her parents and brothers here in Texas Hill Country. As a twenty-fifth birthday present to herself, she’s decided to try her hand at barrel racing. Her goal is to compete in a local rodeo.

Judging by how far she’s come in the three months since we started, we’re definitely going to make that happen. I feel giddy just thinking about it.

I’d be lying if I said part of that giddiness wasn’t on account of the fact that words likerodeoandcattlemake me think of Sawyer. Austin happened months ago, but I can’t quit thinking about that cowboy with the slow hands and big … heart.

The sense of freedom I experienced that night has carried over into other parts of my life. I know that has a lot to do with moving away from my hometown—and from my ex. I’m free to be myself in a way I never have been before. But I think the way Sawyer was so turned on by me just beingmehas provided a much-needed boost of confidence to start my new life.

I’m not worried about being the “right” kind of woman at work or at home. I justam, zero fucks given.

And go figure, everything is finally falling into place.

Which means I seriously, seriously need to stop thinking about that man already. Our one-night stand was goodbecauseit only happened once. If I ran into him again, chances are the experience wouldn’t be nearly as electric or memorable.

Sally, Billie and I all huddle around Sally’s phone, which she turns away from the ardent afternoon light. We’re outside in the corral today, thanks to the fire that partially destroyed one of our barns. We converted the newly constructed arena into temporary stalls for the horses.

The winter air is chilly, but the sun seeps through my jacket to warm my shoulders and back. I don’t love the cold, but it sure as hell beats the heat. Besides, spring—my favorite season—is right around the corner. My heart leaps when I think about how much fun Junie’s going to have meeting all the new calves that are about to be born. She’s also going to have a ball swimming in the Wallaces’ gigantic pool—they’ve already offered to heat it for us whenever we want to use it.

For so long I worried that divorcing Dan would ruin Junie’s life. At the very least, I worried it would damage her in some irreparable way. My therapist tried to convince me otherwise, but I didn’t believe her.

Slowly but surely, however, I saw how our life got bigger. Freer. Happier. Moving to Hartsville just turbocharged that change, and I’m realizing that being happy has made me a more patient, more present parent.

The Wallaces welcomed us with open arms. Not only did they provide the cutest housing for us—a light-filled, two-bedroom carriage house apartment—they also gave me the flexibility I need as a working mom. I’m a salaried employee, complete with benefits like health care and a 401(k), but I pretty much make my own hours. I’m also able to hire any extra help that I need to run our programs—Sally is a perfect example. We’ve become close in the month she’s been part of our team.

Most importantly, though, I found the most wonderful childcare in the form of Miss Lee, Mrs. Wallace’s younger sister. It’s a huge relief not to have to worry about June being in good hands during the day.

“All right.” I hit the play button on Sally’s phone.

We analyze each run in slow motion so Billie sees exactly what she’s doing right and what she needs to work on.

“I can see right away that you’ve got a good seat. You’re not popping up at the first barrel like you were before. All those drills we did practicing your slow work really paid off.”

Billie shifts on her feet. “It seems easier the faster I go.”

“That’s exactly how it should feel.” I point to the screen. “Yeah, look at your hands here—you’re still not staying two-handed long enough. You put your hand on the horn when your horse is striding in to keep your butt and hips planted. Then you let go, and push forward with your horse when you go back to two-handed to ‘drive’ to the next barrel.”

“Got it. And see, I think my legs were a little stiff there around the second barrel.”

“But you did stay sat,” Sally says. “I can see how you were pressing into your seat. Loretta definitely got a boost from your confidence.”

We watch Billie make her final loop around the third barrel.

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