Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 83379 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83379 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
“Dude, rodeos rank in the top ten of all major sporting events.”
“No joke?” I said as we turned into the stadium parking lot, which was packed to the gills and only demonstrated his point. “I can’t believe we can barely find a parking spot.”
Once out of the car, we followed the throng of people heading toward the entrance. The stadium was about a ninety-minute drive from the farm, but despite the distance, it seemed Wyoming residents still recognized each other, and we were waved at and stopped along the way by people who mostly seemed to know Kerry through his parents or siblings. It reminded me of something Mom said once about how the entire state of Wyoming’s population could fit in half of Brooklyn. Which right now sounded a bit crazy, but I supposed it made sense. Plenty of wide-open spaces around here.
We got curious looks from a few people, and I had to wonder if they were questioning whether Kerry and I were together—knowing his history—unless I was reading too much into it. I had never in my life had the opportunity to be openly out with someone, but in that moment, I almost wanted to reach over and grab Kerry’s hand, show him that he had my support, my protection too, and I felt strangely emotional about it.
“You’re looking at me strangely. Somethin’ up?” he asked after yet another person greeted him and he introduced me as Sienna’s cousin.
“Nope. Just taking it all in,” I replied, trudging beside him through the main gates. Damn, I wished stuff could be different right then. That maybe this could even be a sort of date—before we went home and fucked each other’s brains out. But I needed to stop that line of thinking before I drove myself to drink.
Once we found a place to squeeze ourselves between an older couple and a family with three kids, I made fun of him for the nosebleed seats, even though I was fine with the aerial view of the entire operation.
He told me to stay put while he trekked to the concession stand to get us a couple of beers and some nachos to share. No problem there, because I was too busy gawking at all the cowboys walking around and the animals inside their enclosures—at least what I could make of them from that distance. This was something I wouldn’t soon forget.
“So tell me what I’m about to experience,” I said as I sipped the foamy beer. It actually felt good to be away from the farm for a couple of hours—not that I’d ever choose a rodeo to attend on my own, but I had a feeling I just might enjoy myself with the company alone.
“A rodeo is divided into two categories of events—the ones that are timed, like bull and bronc riding, and the rough stock events, like steer wrestling and roping.”
“Roping, huh?” I said, and his amused eyes turned in my direction before he became too aware of himself and his surroundings. “Sorry, just messing around.”
There was a brief moment when I felt the pressure of his shoulder against mine before it was gone, and the effect was like a pile of feathers had been let loose in my belly.
I cleared my throat and sipped more of the cool amber liquid, hoping it would calm my racing pulse. “Have you ever done any of the stuff you mentioned?”
“I tried out for the roping team once for all the wrong reasons—probably to prove somethin’—but I wasn’t very good compared to the professionals you’ll see today.”
I squinted toward a group of cowboys standing near the bull enclosure. “So they make money doing this? It isn’t just for the thrill of it?”
“Definitely both,” he replied. “Especially if you’re on the circuit year-round. Hunter went semi-pro in barrel racing for a couple of years after high school. But it can be a hard life. You live on the road and do around thirty shows a year, sometimes more, and my parents weren’t exactly going for it.”
“Because of the ranch?”
He nodded. “My dad always said he needed him too much.”
I couldn’t help wondering if Hunter held a grudge about Kerry leaving the ranch, and if it had anything to do with his rodeo days being over.
“Do you think he misses it?”
Just as I had the thought, Hunter showed up with a bunch of other cowboys. As they scanned the stands for empty seats, his eyes locked on Kerry’s. He tipped his chin before following his friends to another row of seats a distance away.
“He probably does, though he never discusses it with me,” Kerry replied with a tight jaw. “Shows up to every rodeo in town, so he definitely still enjoys it.”
“Was there ever a time you and Hunter actually got along and hung out together?”