Page 36 of My Cowboy Trouble
"I know that." She switches feet, grabs the saddle horn, and hauls herself up with more grit than grace. Whiskey shifts, and she nearly slides right off the other side. "Shit!"
"Language," I mutter, steadying her with a hand on her thigh. "There are kids around."
"The kids have heard worse. This is cowboy country." But she's settling into the saddle now, looking down at me with something between terror and excitement. "This is really high."
"It's a horse, not a skyscraper."
"Easy for you to say from down there." She grips the reins like they're a lifeline. "Any advice?"
"Don't fall off."
"Gee, thanks. Really helpful."
I move closer, my hand on her thigh, and lower my voice so only she can hear. "Grip with your knees, not your hands. Keep your weight centered. And whatever you do, don't pull back on the reins unless you want him to stop."
"What if I do want him to stop?"
"Then you've already lost."
She looks down at me, and for a moment, the crowd disappears. It's just us, her leg warm under my hand, her eyes locked on mine.
"I don't lose," she says quietly.
"Prove it."
Gavin leads Whiskey to the arena entrance, and I step back, immediately missing my contact with Kenzie. The crowd's getting louder, sensing blood in the water. Or maybe just sensing entertainment, which amounts to the same thing around here.
"Ladies and gentlemen," the announcer booms, "we've got a special treat tonight! Making her rodeo debut, all the way from the big city, let's hear it for Kenzie Rhodes!"
The crowd's response is mixed—some cheers, mostly laughter, and more than a few catcalls. I scan the faces, memorizing the ones who need a lesson in manners.
"You've got this, princess!" Gavin shouts.
"Show them how it's done, darlin'!" Asher adds.
I don't say anything. I can't. Mythroat's too tight watching her out there, looking small and vulnerable on Whiskey's back.
The horn sounds.
Whiskey takes off like he's been shot from a cannon, and Kenzie immediately loses both stirrups. But somehow—God knows how—she hangs on. She's bouncing around like a rag doll, completely out of rhythm with the horse, but she's still on him.
First barrel. Whiskey knows his job even if his rider doesn't. He cuts it close, and Kenzie leans the wrong way, nearly sliding off. The crowd gasps. I take a step forward before I catch myself.
Second barrel. She's found one stirrup and is fishing for the other with her free foot. It would be comical if I wasn't terrified she's about to break her neck.
Third barrel. She's got both stirrups now and something like confidence. She leans into the turn, not perfect, but better. Good enough.
The home stretch. Whiskey opens up, really running now, and Kenzie does something unexpected.
She laughs.
Not a nervous laugh or a scared laugh. A full-throated, joyful laugh that carries over the crowd noise. She's grinning like an idiot, hair flying behind her, and she looks...
Beautiful.
Alive.
Free.
