Page 5 of Roping the Rodeo Queen
Six-point-eight seconds.Not bad, but not great either.
The crowd offers polite applause as we exit, and I know without looking at the leaderboard that it won't be enough to beat Sterling.His run with his partner had been virtually flawless, with six-point-two seconds of textbook roping that had the sponsors in the VIP section practically salivating.
"Solid run," Denny says, patting my back as we lead our horses away from the arena."We'll get 'em next time."
As I exit the arena, Jo is still there, leaning against the fence with her arms crossed.Her horse stands patiently beside her with the reins looped over her arm."Not bad, McKendrick."
"Faint praise, huh?"I saunter up to her, pulling off my gloves with more force than necessary."You know what they say.Second place won't pay the bills, sweetheart."
The endearment slips out before I can squelch it.
"Could've fooled me."Her green eyes narrow as if she thinks she can humiliate me with the sly smile that's playing across her lips.But her expression softens."Looked like you knew what you were doing out there."
"Knowing what I'm doing and getting it done are two different things."I wipe sweat from my forehead with the back of my hand, still wound tight from the adrenaline and disappointment."Sterling's got this whole thing sewn up tighter than a tick on a hound dog."
Jo's horse nudges her shoulder, and she absently strokes the mare's neck."You sound like a man who's already given up."
"Not by a long shot."I use adjusting my gloves as an excuse not to look at her."I'm only stating facts.My first PRCA event went sideways.That's a fact."
"A fact?"Jo's eyebrow arches in that challenging way that makes me want to either walk away or step closer.I haven't decided which."The fact is you're two-tenths of a second behind, not two minutes.That's nothing in the grand scheme of things."
I snort, adjusting my hat for no reason."Easy for you to say, Callahan.You just set a new arena record."
"Yeah, after placing third in the last four events."She runs her fingers through her horse's mane, her gaze steady on mine."You think I just woke up one morning and decided to be exceptional?This game is about persistence, McKendrick.Showing up even when you're beat to hell and just want to sleep for a month."
There's something in her voice, a raw honesty that catches me off guard.For a moment, the mask slips, and I glimpse something real beneath Jo Callahan's perfect exterior.
"I show up," I all but snarl through my teeth."Every---damn---time."
Jo shakes her head."Then stop acting like second place is the end of the world."
I roll my eyes."You kinda suck at pep talks."
She steps closer, close enough that I catch the scent of leather and something floral."You've got talent, McKendrick.Anyone with eyes can see that."
Coming from Jo Callahan, that's practically a declaration of undying admiration.I'm not sure how to respond, so I default to what I know---deflection."Careful there, Callahan.Someone might think you're paying me a compliment."
Her lips quirk upward."God forbid."
We stand here for a beat too long, the air between us charged with something I can't quite name.Her horse whickers softly, breaking the moment, and she leads her mount away.
Jo Callahan is beautiful.But no way can I ever get involved with her.Focus on the goal, Clay, not the girl.
I've got more important things to worry about.
Chapter Four
An Unlikely Alliance
Do I have any chance of winning even one big prize in the PRCA championships?I need the money, for sure, to keep my family's ranch afloat.But I feel like a pathetic excuse for a cowboy right now.Maybe I should just go home and find a real job as an accountant or...something.
The thought evaporates as soon as it enters my head.McKendricks don't quit.Dad always told us so, even when the doctors were certain he might never walk again after the accident.Even when the medical bills started piling up like tumbleweeds against a barbed wire fence.Dad's doing much better, but the bills won't disappear.
I shake my head and focus on untacking Thunder, letting the familiar routine calm my pissed-off attitude.The gelding nickers affectionately, sensing my mood.I pull a piece of carrot out of my pocket and offer it to him.He prefers carrots over store-bought treats.
A sigh whispers out of me."At least one of us performed today.Wasn't me, though."
I check his legs for any signs of strain, but everything looks good.Thunder's as solid as they come, bred for endurance and heart rather than flash.Just like his rider, I suppose.
