Page 188 of Ride the Sky

Now, I am fluid as water. As calm as the eye of a hurricane.

I’m alive, with so much light in my life. My sister. Friends. Nieces. Nephews. Wyatt.

I can either let that shadow grow bigger or smaller. Let that darkness cloud over me or let in the light.

Cowards quit. And I’m not ready to be a coward.

I’m a cowgirl, and I’m ready to live.

I lean my body. My hip screams as I take the second barrel.

Winning means nothing.

What means everything is who I love in this life. And all the good things to look forward to. All the happy only I can make.

My heart is here on this horse. But it’s also with Wyatt. Dakota. My father. Ruby and Reese and Charlie and Ford and Davis.

The third barrel.

Victory electrifies my body. I collapse on top of my horse. I race for the exit, race home, but then at the last second, I halt Lawless.

Not done. Not without him.

Chest heaving, I turn to the stands. I drink it all in. Screams and shouts and hoots and hollers. Two thousand people on their feet, chanting my name.

I scan the crowd. My leg screams. My heart sings.

And then I see Wyatt. Screaming my name, he cuts a beeline through the stands.

It’s not my first rodeo, but with Wyatt’s eyes on me, it feels like it is.

Cheeks flushed with joy, I snap the reins and race. For him.

I’m wired for the ride. Wired for this man who has never failed me.

Cameras flash. The stadium screams.

I meet Wyatt at the barrier, and amid the roar of the arena, right there, in front of everyone, he sweeps me up in his arms and over the divider to pull me in for a heart-stopping kiss that only a cowboy could pull off.

My heart hammers in my ears. I don’t hear my score. Whether I won or not. It doesn’t matter.

What matters is that I have him.

From the door of the stables, I lift a hand to Dakota as she and Davis, and our family’s caravan of trucks, turn onto the highway and head back to Resurrection.

We plan to meet them at Nowhere after I pack up my rodeo gear. My father’s offered to drive Lawless back to my cottage.

Wyatt tosses an extra halter and a lead shake into a pack, while I toss Lawless a hunk of apple. I rub her nose. Her form was flawless. She got us the fastest time in the competition. Winning feels good, but not as good as I feel.

My body is tired, the muscles in my arms and legs throb, but for the first time in three years, I feel like myself again.

Wyatt zips the bag and stands from his crouch. “How’s the hip?”

“Painful, but worth it.” It’s hot in the stables, sweat dampens my brow, the back of my neck.

“You were glowin’ down there,” Wyatt says, tugging my belt loops to pull me into his arms.

“I was?” My voice is breathy.

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