Page 13 of Ride the Sky

The herd of wild horses scatter.

I smile at the sight of Black Betty, a blur of ink against the tan of the desert. My favorite wild horse. Every day, we play a game of speed, racing each other. No matter how fast I am, she always beats me.

Good for her. I hope she keeps running, always, and never stops.

I slow Lawless as Black Betty races to join her herd. Together, we hover at the bank of the creek and watch as the horses put on a show filled with posturing, twirls, kicks, and splashes. Someof the last wild horses in America, and I’m seeing them with my own two eyes.

Lawless chuffs.

I lean down and rest my head against her neck. “Jealous? Me, too.” My hand drifts to cover her glossy chest. Her heart hammers beneath my palm.

Horses can synchronize their heartbeats with humans. It’s not just theory; it’s fact. A bond, a grounding made from loyalty. Friendship. Love.

Lawless is my heart horse. The best I’ve ever had.

She’s been with me through it all. First broken bone. First kiss. My mother leaving. Dakota taking off when I needed her the most.

Above us, the harsh sun burns. Body slick with sweat, I straighten and adjust the red bandana around my neck. I take one last look, then with a flick of the reins, I guide us home.

Red earth. Saguaros. Sonoran hills. Lawless and I ride through it all, until, rising out of the desert like an oasis, we reach the familiar wood-hewn gates and bunkhouse of El Toro Ranch.

No green pastures, no jagged mountains at El Toro Ranch. Just red dirt, dust, and tumbleweeds. The days here move like molasses, and the air is hotter than hell. The perfect place to hide out from the world.

I slow Lawless to a canter and lazily trot through the gates.

A group of cowboys heads to their trucks. All sporting fresh limps and bruised egos. I smirk. I watched them get tossed on their asses earlier this morning. New recruits to Vic LaVoie’s bull riding school. Everyone’s in and out in under two weeks.

Me, I’m the only lifer.

Lawless snorts and stamps her feet.

“Good girl,” I soothe. She’d put a man in the ground all for the small price of a carrot.

I dismount. “Hey,” I shout. “Where you assholes going?”

Sheepdogs nip at their heels.

The cadre of cowboys turn, tripping over their own boots to impress me.

Keeno tosses me a toothless smile. “To the bar.”

Lance tilts his black Stetson. “Come with us.”

“Drinkin’ buddies,” Cooper says with a wiggle of his dark brows.

I don’t blink or acknowledge their offer. I’m not here to make friends. They don’t need to know my business, and I sure as shit don’t want to know theirs. Besides, the only reason they’re too friendly is to try to sleep with me. Men only see a woman on the rodeo circuit as an invitation to get laid.

I have chores to complete. Bulls to ride. Not men to chase.

I stride forward and grab a bucket. Muscles rippled in my shoulders, my back. I wear my standard Arizona attire of cut-off shorts and a flimsy tank top.

“Everyone wants to be a cowboy until it’s time to do cowboy shit,” I grumble.

Truck doors slam, and dirt tornados over the road as the group heads into town.

After cooling down Lawless, I put out some kibble for the dogs. On my way back to the barn, I make note of a broken fence post and add that to my daily to-do list. I’m working on filling the horse trough with fresh water when a gruff voice has me turning.

“Fallon.”

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