Page 3 of Buckin' Around

I round the desk and shake his hand. Losing Thomas, our head trainer for the last ten years, is a hard blow. Not everyone thrives in this kind of environment. Expectations are high—like,reallyhigh. Comes with all the money these ponies are attached to.

“Thanks, Spence. I hope my next boss is as great as you.”

I scoff and shake my head.

“Sure he’ll be much better.”

“Well, thanks again.”

He leaves the office, closing the door behind him, and I lose a sigh.

Fuck, what is with today? If it was Friday, I’d change it to Sigh-day. But since it’s a fucking Tuesday, I can’t even be witty.

My forehead hits the desk, rattling the few items on it.

Thank god the circuit starts back up this weekend. I’m mere inches away from losing my sanity without it.

“Lockwood! You’re on chute four!” Levi calls out, his stone-faced frown telling me this is not the first time he’s called me. The night is crisp.

Okay, it’s cold. Damn cold. I jump on the spot for a minute before making my way to chute four.

Tonight is the first ride of the season. The circuit is alive with renewed energy. And the old, too, I see.

Knox and Hadley are going at it over something.

Maggie, Hadley’s girl, is on one knee, shooting the event. Behind the chutes, above the chutes, in the arena. You name it, that girl shoots it. She became a bit of a legend around here after last years’ dramatic end and Hadley’s last ride. She almost did Montgomery out a job with her little stunt. We all thought she’d quit the gig, but she fills in for the new photographer every so often. And this event happens to be one she’s filling in on.

Dragging my attention to our favorite bullfighter, who is dressed in neon tights, a skirt made of literal ripped up rags, and bright-red braces that match his painted-on smile under that Stetson of his, I am reminded how good it is to belong here.

With that thought, I scale the rails of chute four. When I reach the top, the long black back of Midnight Ryder moves side to side in the chute. His sawn-off horns almost reach the sides of the chute.

The butterflies kick in. My gut flips.

“Now, Lockwood,” Levi prompts.

Hesitation always strangles me at this point. Self-doubt kicks my ass until I get it handed to me by Levi and come to my senses.Tonight is no different. “Come on, Lockwood. It’s now or never, Cowboy Ken.”

Huh, going with the Barbie and Ken references tonight.

That’s fine. Not entirely undeserved.

I move over the rail and lower myself onto two tons of chaos. Midnight tosses his head the second my seat makes contact with his back. I grip the rails, hard.

Hands hover over my shoulders, by my arms. Ready to haul me up and out to safety if they have to.

“Strap in, Ken doll. Your ride tonight might even earn you a draw.”

Levi is looking up at me through the rails. His clipboard is hugged to his chest, earpiece tight in his left ear. “Spin right with him, seat centered, and round you go, remember?” His gruff voice makes it past the thundering in my head, just.

How could anyone forget?

The first time you ride eight is like nothing else.

It’s like invincibility. It’s freedom.

It’s so far removed from my normal life; it’s the drug I will never give up.

My rope circumnavigates Midnight’s chest, and I slide my hand in, clamping my fingers down before pummeling my free hand over the digits. The resin is sticky from before. The rope tightens as the chute cowboys work with precision and speed.