Page 24 of Knot my First Rodeo

“Split across events,” Clint says, already moving past me with another piece of gear. “Still worth going.”

That does something immediate in my chest, a spark I wasn’t expecting.

“You’re actually competing?”

Tripp glances back at me. “What’d you think we were doing all that for?”

I look between them, then toward the trailer, toward the horses, toward everything that suddenly makes more sense.

“Can I go?” It comes out before I think about it.

They all pause for half a second. Tripp looks at Clint. Clint looks at Briggs. Briggs doesn’t react at all.

Then Clint shrugs. “Not like you can stay here alone, but you best be ready when we are. First, help us finish getting loaded up. Hold that,” he says, pushing the trailer gate toward me without even looking at me. I take it automatically, stepping back as he moves past, adjusting something on the trailer. “Don’t let it swing,” he adds.

“I wasn’t going to,” I mutter, tightening my grip.

The metal’s heavier than it looks, so I shift my stance to keep it steady. Clint doesn’t turn back to check on me, doesn’t ask if I’ve got it. He just keeps moving.

Briggs passes by next. He doesn’t say anything, just glances at me before continuing on like I’m not in the way. That does something weird in my chest, and I shove it down before I can think too hard about it.

They keep moving.

So do I.

It turns into a rhythm before I realize it’s happening. I watch how they do things first, how Clint doesn’t waste a step, how Tripp always seems to be exactly where he needs to be before anyone asks, how Briggs checks everything twice like he’s expecting something to fail.

“Bring me that rope,” Tripp says without looking.

I grab the wrong one; of course I do.

“Not that one,” he says, glancing over. “The coiled one on the other side of the porch.”

I huff and switch it out. “You could’ve been more specific.”

“You could’ve looked.”

I shoot him a look but hand it over anyway. He takes it without another word and keeps going. Eventually, I stop waiting to be told everything.

Clint reaches for something, I’m already grabbing it. Briggs moves toward the trailer, I’m already there to open what he needs. Tripp drops something, I pick it up and hand it back before he turns around.

He pauses, looking at me like that surprised him.

“Look at you,” he mutters. “Learning.”

“Don’t get used to it,” I shoot back, but there’s no bite to it.

The horses shift in the trailer, pulling my attention without meaning to. They’re bigger up close, more… present. I knew that already, but standing here, feeling the way they move, the way the space changes around them, it hits differently.

One of them turns its head, dark eyes locking on me, and I freeze.

“Don’t walk straight up on ’em,” Clint says from behind me.

“I wasn’t,” I answer automatically.

“You were about to.”

“I wasn’t.”