Cowgirls Don't Cry

CHAPTER ELEVEN - KATIE

After watching Georgia and Hallie's incredible runs just minutes before, to say I was nervous was an understatement. A thousand butterflies seemed to have been released in my stomach, and my hand felt slack on the reins. There was no way I could beat Hallie's impressive time, let alone outdo Georgia's run.

The past few years on the under-fifteens' circuit had been no more of a challenge than Coach Finlay's gym classes, and I'd been earning places and ribbons at every rodeo I attended. The wall of trophies, ribbons and certifications in my bedroom certainly suggested I was exceptionally good at barrel-racing, but when I was up against sixteen, seventeen, even adult professionals, I wasn't sure I had what it took to succeed.

The MC crackled to life, calling Marlow and I out into the arena, and I had a sudden recollection of something my dad had told me right before my first ever rodeo. Cowgirls don't give up, he'd said. Not ever. They don't complain, they don't take the easy way out, and most of all, cowgirls don't cry. So get out there and give it everything you've got.

A surge of determination washed through my veins, clearing my head, and sharpening my senses. I closed my hands firm around the reins, my head straight and my jaw set. From somewhere outside my realm of focus, I heard Jesse wishing me luck. Hallie, Kacey, Ava and even Ash called out encouragement as I rode into the gateway, but I knew luck wasn't going to get me to where I wanted to be. I had to work for it, and I intended to do just that.

Marlow recognised the routine, and instantly fired up, his muscles tense and collected like a coiled spring. I held him steady with my hands and heels, as he danced and side-stepped towards the line. As we drew closer, I judged the timing, releasing and urging him forward when we were around five metres from the line. Marlow responded with a burst of speed, his gallop collected just enough to allow him to spin tight around the first barrel, stretching out for the next third of the pattern.

I kept my seat deep in the stock saddle, my hands pushed up on Marlow's neck, urging him forwards and barely guiding him through the pattern he could complete in his sleep. Twisting around the second barrel, he leapt for the third and final turn in the pattern. I pulled his nose in around the barrel, moving with him to keep as close as possible to the obstacle without actually touching it and risking knocking it.

As soon as we had the straight stretch of home run before us, I gave Marlow his head completely, leaning forward and squeezing his belly to push him into maximum speed. He responded instantly, every bit the seasoned barrel-racing horse he was bred to be, as my little gelding ran full-out for the finish line. But even as Marlow stretched out in what had to be the fastest I'd ever ridden him at, I knew we just couldn't catch Georgia's time. Her horse was faster, better, and his rider more seasoned, with better technique and experience.

Crossing the line, Marlow drew back to a canter, then a trot, his shiny bay coat slick with foam and sweat, flanks heaving. I stroked his neck, praising him over and over again. My good gelding had done his absolute best, and so had I, and I couldn't help but be pleased with our run, however far it was from matching up to Georgia's. It was definitely my best, and possibly my fastest time yet, proving that the junior circuit was going to be more than I ever could have expected.

"Can we have a round of applause for fourteen-year-old Katie Morgan, on Marlow, for that fantastic ride, especially for her first ride as one of the youngest riders on the junior circuit!" the MC crackled enthusiastically, and I grinned in spite of myself. I knew I hadn't come close to placing, but it was our first ride of the season, and I was pretty happy with the effort.

"With a time of 17.28 seconds, that puts Katie in fourth place, just behind Maria Monroe in third, Hallie Chandler in second, and Georgia Delta in first!" the MC confirmed, and I shook my head in disbelief. Fourth? That was much better than I'd expected, but I'd only ridden ninth, and there were around ten or fifteen riders still to go. The chances of me keeping that placing were slim, but I decided to just take it as it came, having already outdone my expectations so far.