by Sarah Price
Brooke stares at him as if he’s crazy. “It’s okay? What do you mean, ‘It’s okay’?”
“Gary approved Cat riding at the beginning of the show. He wants to ...” His eyes dart around the room and he lowers his voice. “... try something different tonight.”
For a moment, I think Brooke’s going to argue with him. Silently, I will her to stop. Just stop. Don’t talk. Stay quiet. Shh. If she pulls me off this horse, my guarantee of meeting Aiden goes out the window. Whether she senses my secret silent message or not, she keeps her mouth shut and takes a step away from me. She has a weird look on her face, and I see Randy give her a reassuring smile.
“By the way, can you sign this waiver for her?” He hands her a piece of paper and pen.
“Waiver?” Brooke looks confused.
“So Cat can ride.”
Thankfully Brooke just takes the pen and scribbles her name on the form while Randy turns his attention back to me.
He pats my leg and gives me a grin. “You do good out there, Cat. Don’t worry about all of the people in the arena.”
I hadn’t been nervous until he reminded me about them. Thanks, Randy.
A few seconds later, Clayton comes over and takes Dexter’s reins. He rubs his free hand along the horse’s neck. “You doing okay up there, Cowgirl Cat?”
“Yup!”
“You going to do a little show on this here gelding for those girls out there?” He flashes that perfect grin of his at me. “Show them how a real cowgirl does it?”
“You betcha!” My confidence starts to rise.
I notice that Chloe’s running around the arena, making her way to the music platform. Behind her, I can see that the stands are filled with teeny-tiny people, or at least they look that way to me from where I am. The noise level’s much louder than what I had heard at the Topsfield or Cowtown events. I’m not surprised. This is, after all, Dallas!
What does surprise me is that I can hear the audience chanting, and what they’re chanting is something I’ve never heard before: Cowgirl Cat.
Somehow I push that nerve-racking thought out of my head and focus on the spot between Dexter’s ears. All I have to do is ride Dexter, and then Clayton will introduce me to Aiden. Guaranteed!
Focus. Focus.
Clayton gives my leg a friendly slap before he jogs out to the arena, passing Chloe’s platform in the process. He doesn’t even glance at her, and that certainly doesn’t make her appear any happier. The scowl on her face deepens as she glares in my direction. There’s no question that she’s enraged.
Oh, yeah. Madder than a rattlesnake, indeed!
Unlike Leslie Murphy, this Chloe girl does intimidate me. I don’t know why she doesn’t like me. But she sure doesn’t hide it.
Her mother walks by and gives me a dirty look. There’s clearly a family resemblance between mother and daughter. “In the acting world, they say break a leg,” she says in a low voice. “They mean good luck. Only I actually mean it. I hope you actually do break a leg, you fake Yankee cowgirl wannabe.”
My mouth drops open. Did I just hear her correctly? I can’t respond to what she just said because I have to reprocess it. To translate it into human language, because no human that I know, including Leslie Murphy, would ever say something so horrid. And she’s a mom!
A stagehand walks up to me as Chloe’s mother grabs her camera and disappears, probably to take more photos of her precious daughter. “You ready there, Cowgirl Cat?”
Somehow I nod even though I’m thinking about having just been accused of being a fake Yankee cowgirl wannabe. Who talks like that anyway? And what mother tells a little kid to break a leg and actually mean it?
Taking a deep breath, I shake my head. Chloe might be self-centered and selfish. She might have a phony smile and lack of appreciation for her fans. But maybe there’s a reason why. Maybe it’s because she has a horribly rotten, pushy mother who’s nothing more than a big bully. Maybe Chloe isn’t so nice to me because she’s afraid of losing her mother’s favor.
For a moment, I feel sorry for Chloe. What future could she possibly have as a disc jockey? She’s not even really talented. And even if she did have a real talent, her mother would ruin it by being a mom-ster backstage.
And then, just as my empathy for Chloe is peaking, I hear her on the microphone announcing Clayton and his “little guest who hopefully won’t fall off the horse and embarrass herself.”
My mouth drops. Poof! Empathy out the window. Now I’m more determined than ever to ride my best. Suddenly, there’s something more important than Aiden Quinn at stake here: the million plus people who now follow him and all the other cowboy social media stars. People like that Chloe and her mother are fake, conceited, and self-centered. They don’t deserve all those LIKES and FOLLOWS.
Tonight I’m riding for every one of the people who LIKE or FOLLOW me. I want to make them proud and prove that I’m worth the investment of their time on social media. They believe in me so I am riding for them!
When Clayton calls out my name, I gently kick Dexter and we trot into the arena just like Clayton told me to. He has me dismount, which is not something we planned, but I follow his lead.
“Where you from, Cowgirl Cat?” he asks me, his voice extra twang-y, while pointing a microphone near my mouth.
I make a face and back away a little, then I hear the distant sound of laughter from the stage. But I’m caught off guard because Clayton only told me to ride and never mentioned anything about talking in a big old microphone. “Uh ... New Jersey.”
This time, he makes a face, opening his eyes wide and staring into the audience. They laugh again. “New Joisey?” he repeats, overly accenting the word Jersey like a stereotypical television show. “I didn’t know there were horses in Joisey.”
Whoa! Is he making fun of me? I’m not certain that I’m enjoying this and wonder if all of this wasn’t a big mistake. “Surprise, surprise,” I sass right back. “We have grass, too.”
The audience laughs and so does Clayton.
“What brings a horse-riding filly from Joisey all the way to Dallas, Texas?” he asks and points the microphone at me again.
This time, instead of backing away from the microphone, I lean forward, and in as clear a voice as possible, I say the six words that have been on my lips ever since my birthday: “I want to meet Aiden Quinn.”
The audience cheers and applauds so loud that, for a moment, I can’t hear myself think. Clayton encourages them by raising his hands and waving for more noise. The audience delivers.
Clayton nods his head in approval. “Tell you what ...” He returns his attention to me. “You ride that there horse and entertain these kind folks. And then they can decide whether or not you get to meet him.”
What? I frown and narrow my eyes. “But you said ...”
Suddenly that microphone’s no longer in my face because Clayton’s talking into it, addressing the audience and getting them excited for not just my little ride but for the rest of the rodeo. He’s actually a good announcer, better than that Toby guy who had been traveling with them—but got offered a better gig so he ditched the tour, or so Randy told Brooke. Such is the life of show biz, even in the world of rodeo.
As I continue to listen to Clayton, though, I start to feel more angry and less impressed with him. He lied to me! He told me that all I had to do was ride. He didn’t say anything about the audience deciding! That no-good sneak!
He walks back toward me and aims to help me mount Dexter. But I’m mad at him and I sure don’t want or need his help. So I turn my back to him and mount up without any assistance. Grabbing the reins, I lay the left one against Dexter’s neck and push him to move to the right.
As I begin my ride, everything else around me melts away. I feel the horse moving beneath me, hear his hooves pounding on the soft footing in the arena, sense his willingness to do anything I want. I forget that I’m riding Aiden Quinn’s famous horse, Dexter, from his social media videos. I forget that severa
l thousand girls are staring at me, watching me, judging me. Instead, I simply ride.
At first, I canter around, and then I break into a gallop around the ring. On my second pass, I guide Dexter into the center to repeat the simple tricks from earlier in the day: gallop to a quick slide leaving perfect tracks (thank you, Dexter), then I urge him into stepping backwards before I press him into a rollback. I instruct the horse to gallop again, do another slide, and, this time, lay the reins on his neck while pressing the left side of his barrel before letting him spin.
It must be the adrenaline. Because when I finally stop, I do something that I’ve seen Aiden do countless times, but have never tried myself: I hold the reins and stand up on Dexter’s saddle. The roar of the audience feeds my energy rush and, after easing back into the saddle, I turn around in the saddle, facing Dexter’s rump, and hop onto his rear end so I can slide off into my dismount.
Take that, Chloe the Rattlesnake!
Clayton laughs as he runs over to where I’m standing, right next to Dexter. He wraps his arm around my shoulder and forces me to face the audience.
“That was some ride! What do y’all think?”
Cheers.
“So do y’all want this gal to meet Aiden Quinn?”
Screams.
“Y’all think she’s earned it?”
Hollering.
Suddenly my energy rush disappears and I stare out into the crowd. Perhaps if I’d have done that earlier, I wouldn’t have been able to perform. Frankly, I’m not certain how all of this happened ... how I got here. But it sure feels good to hear other girls cheering for me.
“Well, alrighty then!” Clayton says. “Keep your eyes peeled on the Rodeo Rage social media. We’ll live-stream the two of them meeting as soon as he gets here!”
Within minutes, I’m leading Dexter back to his stall. Clayton’s quite obviously pleased and high-fiving a few men that we pass along our way. I just want to rub down Dexter and grab a pop. Dr. Pepper preferably. This whole experience seems surreal, and I’m not quite certain what to make of it.
That is until the snake, Chloe, rears on her coiled tail and strikes.
I’m standing in Dexter’s stall, giving him a good curry. He’s barely broken a sweat so I know that I didn’t do anything with him that was unusually hard. Still, I want to take care of him.
“You!”
I hear the hiss and immediately turn. She’s glaring at me through the bars of Dexter’s makeshift stall.
Chloe hisses at me. “How. Dare. You.”
“How dare I what?”
She points her finger in my face. “This tour is supposed to make me famous. Not you.”
What on earth? If it was remotely possible, I wouldn’t be surprised if her head were to explode. Clearly she’s furious. “I have no idea what you are talking about.” And that’s the truth!
“I’m the only girl on this tour. This is my tour. And I will not be muscled out by some ...” She gives me a good once- over, a look of disgust on her face. “… some no-name fangirl from New Jersey!”
Before I get a chance to answer, I hear voices approaching. Chloe hears them, too, and quickly slithers away like the snake that she is.
Looking over my shoulder, I see Brooke, ashen faced, walking with Randy, Clayton, and Gary Green. Still no Aiden Quinn. Ugh!
“Cat,” Brooke calls out in a strange voice. “Gary Green wants to talk to you.”
Gary Green? My first thought is why does he want to talk to me? My second thought is maybe Aiden finally arrived. Quickly, I pat Dexter’s neck and leave the stall, making certain to secure the door, then follow them down the hall into a small room with a vending machine and several tables.
We sit down. I do a quick scan of the room. No Aiden.
Gary Green stares at Clayton then says, “Go on. Tell her your idea.”
Clayton gives me a big grin, obviously unaware that I’m still annoyed by his trickery in the arena. “Cat, you did great out there,” he starts.
“So when do I get to meet Aiden?”
From under the table, I feel Brooke kick me.
“Meet him?” Clayton laughs. “Girl, how’d you like to travel with him?”
My eyes bulge from my head. “Say what?”
Clayton nods as Randy leans forward. “Your sister told me about your crush on Aiden ...”
I snap my head in her direction and glare. “Brooke!”
But Randy holds up his hand in a sign of peace. “No, no. It’s okay, Cat. I checked out your social media after Cowtown and noticed that your social currency was increasing. Fast.”
I blink. “I have social currency? What’s that?”
“Followers. A standing in the media, like a ranking …” Randy explains patiently. “Anyway, I asked Clayton to check you out and keep an eye on it …”
I gasp. Is that why Clayton knew all that information about me?
Gary slowly nods his head in a very deliberate manner. “Yes,” he says thoughtfully. “I’m seeing this now, boys. Loud and clear.”
Clayton winks at him. “Honest and true. Unlike someone else, eh?”
Another nod.
“So we tested this out tonight, Cat ... to gauge the reaction of the crowd and fans.” He smiles at me. “And it worked. They loved you. Your followers jumped by two thousand since the meet and greet ruckus and another two thousand since your exhibition ride.”
I have no idea what all of this really means and why any of my followers would interest him.
Randy, however, reads my mind. “You’re going viral,” he explains. “We want you to finish out the tour with Rodeo Rage.”
I blink. What did he just say? “I don’t understand.”
Gary takes over. “This is how the Rodeo Rage Tour started, Cat. Viral social media. When I came up with the tour idea, I recruited some of the more popular guys and booked a few small locations to test out the idea. Randy came along to manage the boys and tour logistics while I managed the media and marketing. Frankly, I never expected that it would take off like this, but it did.” He pauses for a minute and levels his eyes at me. “Suddenly rodeos are the top trending thing across the country with young girls. The Rodeo Rage’s in hot demand in every state. And we want you to perform.”
Did my ears just hear that correctly? “What? Why me?”
Leaning back in his chair, Gary clears his throat. “I have to confess I asked myself that same question, Cat. You’re not famous. No one really knows you …”
Gee, thanks.
“… But you offer something the tour doesn’t really have. A clean, wholesome little-sister image for the fangirls to follow.”
Little sister? I’m not certain if I should be offended or not. Clearly Gary Green doesn’t realize that I’m going to marry Aiden Quinn one day. “I still don’t get it.”
Clayton reaches out and covers my hands with his. “Girls need a positive role model, Cat. You’re it.”
And then the lightbulb goes off in my head. These people really want me to travel with the Rodeo Rage. Quite possibly, my social media accounts could become as large as Aiden’s and Clayton’s. “Oh,” I whisper.
“We have faith in you, Cat,” Randy says as Clayton releases my hands. “Everyone has to start somewhere. We believe that, if this goes the way we think it might, you’ll end up famous.”
Famous? I don’t want to be famous. I just want to meet Aiden Quinn. But to travel with him? To ride horses? That’s definitely something to consider.
My heart is pounding and I turn toward Brooke. She’s watching me as if studying my reaction. “Does Mom know?” I whisper. She shakes her head no.
“We want to carefully script your next few days, set up a meeting with you and Aiden, and then follow the two of you on tour.” Randy seems way too excited about this, which makes me wonder if he hasn’t been planning this for a while.
Thankfully, Brooke speaks up. “All of this needs to be discussed with our mother.”
A moment of silence falls
over the table. From their expressions, I gather that they hadn’t really thought through that monkey wrench.
Gary’s the first to speak. He clears his throat and puts on his best businessman grown-up voice. “Of course, of course.”
However, my mind is racing. Is this really happening? Have I been invited to become part of the Rodeo Rage Tour? To actually travel to all sorts of horsey places with the one and only love of my life, Aiden Quinn? To solidify my position as the future Mrs. Aiden Quinn? To be a real cowgirl, even if I’m from New Jersey? Does the tour run into September? I think it does. Oh, no! Will I miss school? Yay! But … oh, no … what if my mom says no?
There is no way that my mom will agree to any of this. Poof! Party over.
Brooke must sense my apprehension and reaches under the table to touch my knee. I look at her and see that she, too, is wide-eyed in disbelief.
Gary starts talking with Randy about setting up a meeting with my mom. I’m barely listening, too afraid to hear any more wonderful ideas that most certainly won’t come to fruition. I mean, seriously! What mother would actually allow her thirteen-year-old daughter to travel on a tour with a bunch of young teenage guys? Not mine, that’s for sure.
How can everything be so right and so dreadfully wrong at the same time?
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Say What?
I don’t know how Brooke did it, but she actually got Mom to the Rodeo Rage show without telling her why she needed to come. When she gets to the arena, Brooke meets her, and security whisks them through the crowd as if they are both Queens of England. I’m sitting on a large trunk, my legs swinging, and taking in all the lights, sounds, and applause as the Rodeo Rage guys enter the ring, perform, and return backstage. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Mom walking through the crowd, two security guards on each side of her as everyone parts like the Red Sea.
She sees me and walks over, a big smile on her face.
“My, my, Cat! Look at all of this!” She turns around and stares at the group of young guys, one who is holding the reins of his paint quarter horse. “And all these horses! Wow!”