[WATTYS 2016 WINNER!] [COSMOPOLITAN Featured!]
Trapped in her white trash hell, Layla Danner is failing at life.
Her friend Peyton? Everybody thinks he's perfect, a staggeringly rich, handsome, and well-mannered story book prince. But they don't kn...
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It was obvious that Jake had taken a fall at some point because his entire left side was covered in mud.
"He's on Night Storm," said Beth, her fingernails digging deep into the flesh of my forearm. "Excellent choice."
Night Storm was an award winning Thoroughbred, the fastest horse in the stables and Beaudry's pride and joy. Jake pushed the horse to its full capacity, quickly coming up from the back of the herd. As he moved his way forward, the other cowboys made way, giving him room to pass.
And boy, did he ride.
Man and beast rode as one, lightening quick, Jake's body bent low at the waist to mimic the horse's shape. He was arranging his ropes in his hand, one end grasped between his teeth.
Beth was right. It really was a sight to see.
Once he was near the leading animals, he pushed Night Storm to the right, closer to the herd. Then, Jake released the horse's reins, but Night Storm kept moving forward at breakneck speed.
My heart thundered in my throat, the sound of it louder than the horses' hooves. My lips parted to take and expel short, fast breaths through my mouth.
Now riding alongside the stampede, Jake took his rope in his hands and stood, his boots braced on the stirrups. I'd seen roping done during rodeos, of course, but it was so incredible to see it in a natural setting, when the result actually mattered.
Jake swung his loop, and within seconds, he had it circling above his head. At his command, Night Storm miraculously picked up even more speed until he was head to head with the troubling black mustang.
The rest was so fast I barely saw it happen. Jake threw his rope, I blinked, and the next thing I know, the mustang was on its side on the ground. At the sudden stop, Night Storm reared on his hind legs, his body nearly vertical to the ground, but Jake stayed neatly seated.
"Hell yes! Now that's a motherfucking cowboy!" whooped Beth, jumping to her feet and raising her fist into to air.
Shotgun blasts continued to reverberate through the canyons as the rest of the cowboys continued to work on the remaining horses. With the lead animal down, the stampede had lost its momentum, and within fifteen minutes, they were able to round up the exhausted horses.
"C'mon. Let's go," said Beth, scrambling to a sitting position.
"Go where?" I followed suit, picking off the small stones embedded into my skin.
"I'll bet he's going to try to break Satan now," she said, excitement lighting up her eyes. "I would pay good money to see that!"
"Don't you think we'll be punished? For being out here?"
She waved a hand dismissively. "What are they going to do to us? You muck shit and I haul hay. How much lower can we get in the pecking order of things?"
