Page 5 of Wild & Worthy

Dusty shifts underneath me, hot and restless. Adrenaline starts pumping clean through my veins. Three other barrel racers work their horses in wide circles through churned dirt, the whole place buzzing with nervous energy.

Riding has always been the easy part. Not the sponsors, or trying to scrape together enough gas money to chase my dream halfway across the country. That part sucks. But the riding? That’s always been like second nature for me.

I guide Dusty in a slow circle, keeping him collected, feeling the familiar tension coiled through his body. He wants to run already. I can feel it in the way he tosses his head, in the shortened stride underneath me.

“Settle down,” I murmur, adjusting the reins lightly. “You’re acting as if you’ve never done this before.”

Dusty flicks an ear back at me in obvious disagreement.

Drama queen.

I glance toward the sponsor booths overlooking the arena, and hardly any of them are watching our warm-ups. Most of them are too busy talking and laughing beneath the shaded awnings, with drinks already in their hands, despite it barely being midmorning.

Figures. Whatever, warm-ups don’t matter. It’s the run that matters. When I look toward the stands, my gaze lands on Eli, Hazel, and my parents. And unfortunately, Chace.

Hazel, now my brother's better half, leans against the railing beside him, sunlight catching the pale blonde braid hanging over her shoulder. Since coming back to Ashford Ridge last year, she’s somehow managed to drag the Clark Ranch horse program back from the dead through sheer stubbornness and talent alone. Honestly, she got that from her dad. Hazel has the same instinct with horses John did.

Eli looks at her like she personally hung the moon; he always has. Even now, he reaches over automatically, pulling her closer and pressing a kiss against the side of her head while she laughs at something their friend Shae says.

I love my brother, I really do. But the constant lovestruck cowboy routine is getting annoying. Not that I’m not happy for them; I am. I just… don’t want what they want. Marriage. Babies. Ranch life—the whole small-town happily-ever-after thing. Maybe I’ll want that someday, but not right now. Right now, I want miles of highway ahead of me, rodeo arenas packed with people, and a championship buckle with my name on it.

Eli spots me watching and immediately throws me a grin and thumbs-up.

Mom and Dad are beside him, both here like always. They haven’t missed a competition yet if they could help it. Warmth settles low in my chest despite the nerves. My family's support means everything to me.

I guide Dusty toward the fence where my family waits.

“Dusty looks settled,” Hazel says, eyeing him knowingly.

“That makes one of us.”

She laughs softly, reaching out to rub Dusty’s neck. “Today feels good.”

Something about the certainty in her voice eases the nervous knot in my chest.

“Thanks for coming,” I tell them honestly.

My gaze sweeps over the group, taking in everyone who showed up to support me. Mom. Dad. Eli. Hazel. Shae. Then Chace catches my eye and winks, making me immediately regret being born with eyesight.

Rolling my eyes, I guide Dusty back toward the center of the pen and take him through another warm-up pattern. Around the left barrel, over to the right, then drive him home. He feels sharp and responsive beneath me, exactly where I need him to be.

“Barrel racers report to the starting gate.” The announcer’s voice cuts across the arena and the entire warm-up pen shifts instantly.

Dusty comes alive beneath me, and his ears snap forward. “Yeah,” I murmur, rubbing his neck once. “Me too.” I guide him toward the holding gate as the noise around me starts fading into static.

The crowd disappears.

The other riders disappear.

The barrels are all I see now.

The gate attendant nods when my number’s called. Dusty dances underneath me, coiled tight with anticipation. My heartbeat pounds hard enough I can feel it, but my hands stay steady on the reins.

This is it. One clean run and maybe somebody up in those sponsor booths finally notices me.

The gate swings open and Dusty explodes forward like the earth itself can’t hold him down.

Ride clean, Dawson.