Page 110 of Here With Me
“I'd really like not to think about that today. At least until I have to. He'll be one of the judges, so it's not like he'll be avoidable. I'd rather live in my clueless bubble for one more day.”
She rests her head on my shoulder. “Okay. Just know I'll be here when ya need me. Whoever needs a knee to their dick or hot coffee thrown at their face, you call me. But I’d rather knee them because wastin’ coffee is a crime.”
I lean my head on top of hers and smile. “Thanks, Mags. Glad I can always count on you for retribution.”
“Day or night!”
When I get to the barn, it's all hands on deck. We borrowed ranch hands from the retreat to help with miscellaneous tasks. Sheriff Wagner and a couple of his deputies will also be present to make sure everyone stays safe and nothing gets out of hand.
Knowing I can't talk to Fisher about anything personal will weigh on me all day. Hopefully, with Magnolia and Ellie being my right-hand women, they'll talk my ears off enough to keep me distracted.
We enter the boarding stables where Ayden's already working. With today's activities, he has to get an even earlier start to clean stalls, feed, and water, and be available to help the competitors board their horses for the day.
“Mornin', ladies,” Ayden greets, walking toward us with a shovel.
“How’re things goin' so far? Anythin’ we can do to help?”
“Don't volunteermefor manual labor.” Magnolia elbows me.
I side-eye her, and she shrugs.
“I'll supervise,” she clarifies.
After checking in with Rudy and Trey and making sure they're good to go, Magnolia and I meet up with Ellie next. Regardless of her being sad about Ranger’s inability to compete today, she's in a happy mood.
The trainers and competitors start to arrive, and I welcome each one as they unload their horses. Momma and Gramma helped me make goodie bags this past week, so once they're settled, I deliver their bags and welcome them. Most of them I've informally met at other competitions or only saw their pictures in brochures, but it’s nice to officially meet them.
“Thank you for not invitin' Craig Sanders. He's been the biggest nuisance of my life since I rejected his offer to work with him.” Brittany MacIntire approaches with her trainer, Amelia Bradshaw.
“You and me both.” I groan.
“Wait, I heard he was comin'?” Amelia looks back and forth between us. “One of his clients' sisters told me.”
“He still has clients?” I snort. “Well, considerin' he's trespassed on the property and vandalized the trainin' center, he'll get a police escort if he shows his face.”
“He apparently ain't so happy the Fanning sisters left him for you.” Amelia shrugs. “Not that I can blame them.”
There's no bitterness or jealousy in her tone, which is a welcome surprise. Harlow and Delilah Fanning deserve a trainer who can help them advance, not scream at them when they mess up. Harlow's one of my clients, so she's here to show, but since I haven't signed with Delilah yet, I wasn't able to enter her name. But she's still coming to support her sister.
We chat for a few more minutes before I welcome the next ones. Most of the trainers are ten to fifteen years older than me while their clients are around my age. But I think that only helps me connect with them better. When it comes to horses, I have a lot of patience and understanding versus other trainers who are tense and get annoyed easily. Horses can sense that, and it often affects how they learn and perform.
“Doin' okay, sweetie?” Momma asks as we walk to the training center after getting everyone settled. She and Dad showed up early to meet everyone before we opened.
“Yeah, just nerves. But I'm glad it's finally here.” I smile wide. “Couldn't have done it without y'all.”
She wraps her arm around me and squeezes. “This is all you, Noah. We just assisted. You're the brains behind this. It's gonna be amazin'. You'll see.”
I pat her hand resting on my shoulder. “Thanks, Momma.”
Dad's playing with the microphone at the emcee table when we approach him inside. He's grinning wide and looking spiffy in dark jeans, boots, tucked in blue shirt, and cowboy hat.
“Who ya tryin' to impress, cowboy?” Momma teases, leaning in for a kiss.
“Gotta convince these people to spend their money somehow,” he says, and we laugh.
“They already did if they purchased a ticket,” I remind him.
“Yeah, and now I gotta get them to the silent auction.” He winks.
