Firefly Night

CHAPTER 7.5

I brought Fiets under control just in time to see a golden streak thunder into the arena. Riding a shimmering palomino stallion, hat-less so that her matching blonde hair was on display, face fixed in concentration, was the woman I had hoped I wouldn't bump into.

Our rivalry had roots deeper than just competing in rodeos. It began back in high school when we vied for the top spot in our riding team. Jasmine had always been the one to steal the spotlight with her flawless rides and effortless charm, while I struggled to keep up. Her success always seemed to overshadow mine, fueling a simmering animosity between us. The tension only escalated when I started seeing Rem, her ex-boyfriend.

We watched as she reached the first barrel, the stallion barely breaking stride as she twisted around it, hooves skidding through the dirt, and crossing the gap from the first barrel to the second in the blink of an eye. This turn was tighter, but Jasmine remained steady in the saddle, and her mare kept his footing, pushing off from the ground to charge for the final barrel. This time, they came into the turn so fast that dirt sprayed up onto the stand, and the crowd screamed in delight as they cleared the final barrel without even a tap and bolted home. To finish the performance, Jasmine twisted in the saddle, raised a hand to her lips, and blew a kiss to the spectators, even as her mare galloped full-speed to the line, barely stopping before she hit the gate.

"WHAT A RIDE! Jasmine Morrison and her gorgeous stallion Strike Command have reminded us all who's really in charge of this competition!"

With a final wave, Jasmine exited the ring to a chorus of cheers and chants, a radiant smile across her face; I rolled my eyes.

"Not a fan?" Colt asked me with a chuckle, catching the look.

I huffed through my nose. "Sloppy riding, the horse was doing more work than she was. Hands were too high, as well – beginner's stuff. Don't know how she's so popular when I've seen kids ride with better style than she has."

A voice spoke up behind me. "Then maybe you can teach me?"

Freezing, my throat went dry mid-sentence. Of course. Of course she would walk over right as I was talking about her, damn it! Turning Fiets with a slight shift of his leg, I fought to keep my expression unimpressed, and my tone cold. "Morrison."

The innocent smile on Jasmine's face made it worse. "I didn't expect you to be watching my races. What was it you said last time? 'Not enough skill or finesse for my taste', or something like that?"

I shifted awkwardly. I didn't really think that, I'd just been trying to get Jasmine riled up during our last confrontation, but there was no way I was going to admit it.

"Just taking a breather after my ride," I snapped.

Jasmine turned her attention to Colt, who had leaned up against the rail post and was now watching us, entertainment dancing in his blue eyes.

"And you? What do you think of my ride?"

Instead of the kind response I had expected, Colt shook his head. "Lemon had the right of it; you're riding was actually a bit sloppy. I'm sure you know that yourself."

My jaw nearly dropped. I looked at Jasmine, too baffled to respond for a moment.

Jasmine spoke again before she could compose herself. "Such devoted followers Lemon! Of course they were Tex's originally. How brave of you to follow in his footsteps- considering how he died and all."

Heat rose to the tips of my ears, and I steadied myself by biting the inside of my cheek. It was an unspoken rule, to most, to not bring up daddy in front of me. While I could idly do small talk, nod my head when they asked if I was Tex's daughter, sign something, and tell a story every once in a while bringing up his death felt like a slap to the face for me.

Tex Lamar had given up riding for mama and the life he created with her. He put down his saddle, hung up his tacks, let his medals collect dust in the corner while he raised Stella and I. He didn't push us to join the rodeo, but when I started showing interest in barrel racing he took it on his own shoulders to teach me. And everything was going good.

But when mama died, and Stella moved, it broke daddy. We would fight over the silliest things until one day he had left, joined the rodeo again.

I waited, trying my best to hold the farm together on my own. He would be back, I told myself each and every time I looked into the gravel driveway. It wasn't until one morning, half way through my chores that I got the news. There had been an incident at the Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo. One resulting in Tex Lamar's death.

Colt cleared his throat, catching my attention. I blinked, eyes narrowing at Jasmine once more.

"Well we've ought to get going. Best luck to you at nationals," he said curtly. He took Fiets reigns from my hand and walked in front of me towards the trailers. Jasmine was gone by the time I looked back to her, leaving me standing alone on the pavement in the middle of the rodeo.

"You comin?"

I nodded because I couldn't trust my voice, unsure how steady it would be in moments like this. We walked back to the trailer in silence, the sound of Fiets hooves hitting the ground filling it.

Colt looked down at me, his frown matching my own as I store back. "I'll be okay."

He opened his mouth, but then closed it, nodding. His hand brushed against a few loose strands of hair, pushing them behind my ear, "I know you will be little Lemon. Never doubted it for a second."

Colt checked his watched and swore under his breath. "Sean's ride is in 30 and I promised him I'd cheer him on. I can talk after that, if you want?"

"I'll be there."

He smiled, "I know."