Page 10 of Rodeo Rivals (Hope Runs Deep #11)

Wyatt

“ S he’s here,” Seth announced like a giddy little kid who’d gotten his first Stetson.

“Who?” Wyatt asked as he placed his hands on his hips, stuck one leg out in front of him, and dipped into a deep lunge.

“The woman riding rough stock,” Seth said.

“Oh,” Wyatt scoffed.

Why was Seth so hung up on this? Who cared who they rode against? It didn’t matter. It wasn’t like they were in the arena at the same time. What she did on her horse had no impact on what any of the men would do on theirs.

“Pretty little thing. And I do mean little.” Seth stuck his thumbs in his belt loops. “She’s barely five feet tall. Thick, though. It’s all in her thighs.”

Wyatt switched legs and continued his stretches. “So?”

“She’s going to get hurt out there,” Seth said.

Wyatt shrugged. “I’m sure she’ll be alright.”

“You and I both know rough stock isn’t for the weak. Those are the most dangerous eight seconds of anyone’s life.”

Wyatt stopped and stood his full height. “Are you scared of her or something?”

Seth scoffed and crossed his arms, puffing out his chest. “Me?”

Wyatt raised his eyebrows expectantly.

“I’m not sure how up to date you are with the standings—”

“Oh, I am,” Wyatt interrupted. “Which is why I’m wondering what you’re here flapping your gums about. Competing against a woman shouldn’t be a concern when you should get yourself ready to ride.”

Shaking his head, Seth waved Wyatt’s words away. “It’s not right. She’s going to get hurt.”

“Maybe, but I think your ego is in more danger than she is,” Wyatt said as Seth turned his back to walk away.

Sighing, disappointed in his friend, Wyatt glanced down the lane and nearly fell over. Blinking, he tried to clear out whatever dust had gotten in his eyes, because there was no way in hell he saw what he thought.

McKayla from the Double Wide, and his bed last night, did squats mere feet from him. She was the one who worried Seth. She was the woman he didn’t want to compete against.

Goddamn.

What was he supposed to do? Should he acknowledge her?

She might be the type who didn’t like to chitchat before she got in the saddle.

He didn’t know. It wasn’t like they had any sort of conversation about their pre-ride rituals considering they both conveniently left out that they were on the rodeo circuit.

Taking off his hat, he scrubbed his hand through his hair and glanced in her direction. She had her back to him as she continued a stretching routine. Was that purposeful? Had she already seen him? If she had and avoided eye contact to this extent—yeah, she didn’t want him to go up to her.

Then again, if she was as focused as he normally was before he got on a horse, she might not have noticed him. Hell, the only reason Wyatt had was because Seth pointed her out to him. So, yeah, it might not be awful for him to approach her.

If he did, what would he even say?

They agreed to it being a one-night thing—no strings attached. He didn’t have to talk to her again. That was how they’d set it up.

So why did he want to?

McKayla

Ass in the saddle. Fingers curled around the thick rope rein.

Eyes closed. McKayla took a deep breath.

The time was now. She leaned back, throwing her free arm in the air as the announcer listed her accolades to the crowd.

When she lifted her lids, she got into position—ensuring her heels, and the spurs, were even with Lady Jane’s shoulders.

Rocking back and forth a few times, she did her best to get as comfortable as one could be on an animal bred for bucking.

“You ready to make history, Lady Jane?” she said to the horse.

Now or never.

After she heard her name, McKayla gave a nod, and the chute opened. Keeping her toes out and her grip on the braided rope, she marked out, her spurs against the horse as she exploded forward out of the chute. Dipping her head lightly, Lady Jane arched her back and flung her hind legs upward.

McKayla held on and tried to count in her head. These were always the most intense and longest eight seconds of her life.

Holding her position, she moved with the animal as the horse twisted and bucked. She bounced through the jostling, despite the horse’s attempt to hurl McKayla to the ground.

Three more seconds.

She kept her hand in the air, her hat on her head, and pushed her heels, and spurs, into the horse rhythmically to keep the animal bucking.

Hold on. Three more seconds. Stay in position for a few more seconds and it’s over.