Better to wait for the right opportunity. He’d pick and choose the best time. When they were alone and it happened naturally.
After greeting his mom and dad, Jack and Dara found seats about halfway down the grandstands, with a good view of the arena.
He enjoyed sitting close to Dara. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders while they waited for the barrel racing competition to start in the small junior rodeo.
The rodeo encompassed competitors from the ages of nine through nineteen. Kids came from other counties to compete with local athletes.
He and Dara enjoyed the young girls’ events that included breakaway roping, pole bending, and goat tying.
The young boys’ events were next. Calf riding was followed by goat tying. Some of his cousins had sons in the events.
When the youngest kids finished their events, the older kids followed by age groups.
The older kids’ events included pole bending, ribbon roping, and breakaway roping.
When they were done, the middle-age groups in the barrel racing competition were first, so Leslie wouldn’t be racing until these girls finished competing.
“I was around Bailey and the sport for years,” Dara said. “I’ve watched her race many times, and have gone to a lot of rodeos with her. It never grows old.”
“It sure doesn’t.” Jack held Dara close as each rider raced the cloverleaf pattern around three barrels arranged in a triangular shape.
As a senior 4-H leader, Leslie taught younger riders how to negotiate the cloverleaf without tipping over a barrel in the fastest time.
The barrels were arranged using careful measurements at specific lengths.
“No one ever explained horse boots to me.” Dara looked at him. “Of course, Bailey was on a horse while I watched, and I always forgot to ask her later.”
“Horses that barrel race are outfitted with special sports boots before every run,” he explained. “The boots support a horse’s tendons and help prevent injuries.”
He went on, “I don’t know if Bailey explained it to you, but riders also need a racing saddle that allows for greater stability and gives her more contact with the horse’s back.”
“She did tell me that,” Dara said, “when I asked her why her saddle looks different from others.”
“Back when the sport first started, judging was based more on rider appearance and horsemanship than speed,” he said. “It wasn’t until around 1949 that barrel racing became all about speed.”
“They use electric timers,” Dara said. “With a sensor, right?”
“That takes out the human element where a judge with a stopwatch isn’t as accurate,” he said. “The winner can be determined by a thousandth of a second using the sensors.”
Dara pushed her braid over her shoulder. “Bailey always said how important it was to work with her horse daily.”
“It is.” Jack rested his hand on her thigh. “The relationship between horse and rider is crucial.” He went on, “Like Bailey had with her horse, Leslie has an incredible relationship with Sammy. They communicate as if one knows the other’s mind.”
They watched and cheered the young girls as they competed fiercely for the top spot in the event.
The last girl in the middle-age category finished her ride, and the winner was announced.
Now it was time for the age sixteen to nineteen group.
Excitement, which had escalated with each event, charged the air. The first barrel racing contestant of the upper division competition rode out on a bay mare.
The girl entered the arena at a gallop and headed toward barrel one. She circled the first barrel before guiding her horse to the second barrel, then the horse and rider charged toward barrel three. She pushed her horse toward the finish line, at an amazing speed, far faster than the younger competitors.
Dara looked breathless as she watched. “It always amazes me how close the horses are to the ground as they round the barrels. Especially in the upper ages and adult races, it almost looked like the horse could tip over.”
“The girls’ horses have a lot of power and training.” Jack gestured to the next rider as she shot out toward the barrels on her chestnut. “That’s Minnie Carver. She’s Leslie’s biggest competition.”
They watched as Minnie negotiated the course in a time that blew well past the first rider. The crowd cheered when the announcer gave her stats.
“She’s good,” Dara said.
“Minnie is a great rider, but Leslie is better.” Jack winked at Dara. “I’m not biased, of course.”
“Of course not.” Dara grinned. “I’m looking forward to her ride.”
The next competitor’s horse tipped a barrel. The mistake added five seconds to the rider’s final time.
Two more girls raced before Leslie rode out on her horse and waited at the starting line.
A sense of pride warmed his chest, like it did every time he saw her race. She was his little girl, even if she wasn’t so little anymore. That girl and her brother meant everything to him.
Dara gestured to Leslie’s beautiful white and black horse that had a distinctive pattern. “The horse is gorgeous.”
“Sandwich is a Paint.” Jack braced his forearms on his thighs as he waited for Leslie’s ride to start.
Dara laughed. “Sandwich?”
“Yep.” Jack kept his gaze focused on Leslie. “She named him Sandwich when she was eight because the patterns reminded her of an ice cream sandwich. Sammy for short.”
“That’s awesome.” Dara laughed. “I’ve always thought of Leslie as creative and fun. That just proves it started at an early age.”
“You have no idea.” Jack shook his head as he thought of Leslie’s very good imagination and all the things she’d pulled growing up. “And she’s smart as hell.”
“I’ve known Leslie since she was an infant,” Dara said. “I’ve always admired this young lady.”
Jack watched Leslie, his breath stuck in his throat. His daughter was beautiful, her expression fierce as she waited at the starting line.
The moment the horn sounded, Leslie and Sammy shot toward the first barrel.
The difference between Leslie’s ride and the other competitors of all the age groups was vast. Leslie rode like Bailey—pure poetry. The only one he had seen come close to Leslie was Minnie.
It looked like Leslie and the horse were one as they rounded the barrel. It took even his breath away.
Leslie and Sammy exploded around the course.
They rounded the last barrel, so close and so fast that it was as if her very speed could tip the barrel.
The pair ripped away from the barrel and galloped at full speed to their final destination.
The crowd exploded into cheers as Leslie and Sammy sailed past the finish line.
Jack surged to his feet as he clapped for his daughter. Dara stood beside him, beaming, as he looked at his daughter with pride.
The rodeo announcer gave the time of the race and declared Leslie the winner.
Applauding and shouting continued from the grandstands. Leslie had plenty of relatives and friends there to cheer her on.
Leslie rode a victory lap, her hand in the air as she sat up in the stirrups. More shouts and cheers followed in her wake.
After Leslie’s ride, the middle-age and older boys’ competitions started. They watched calf roping, team roping, and steer wrestling.
When the rodeo was over, it was close to getting dark. They headed out of the grandstands with the crowd.
Jack held Dara’s hand as they walked near the barns, where Leslie was probably caring for Sammy.
Dara brought him to a stop. “It’s probably not a good idea for me to go into the barn with you.” She sighed. “I don’t want to upset Leslie.”
“She needs to get used to us as a couple.” He didn’t want Dara to be pushed aside.
Dara put her palm on his chest, through the opening of his jacket. “Leslie’s just won a big competition that is important to her,
and she’s probably on an adrenaline high.” Dara smiled gently. “I’m not going to take that away from her.”
Jack frowned. “Dara—”
She shook her head. “I’ll go to the building with all the photography and art exhibits. I just might decide to enter some of my art next year, so it’ll be fun to see what I’ll be up against.”
Jack blew out his breath. “I don’t like leaving you alone.”
“I’m a big girl, Jack.” She smiled. “And I’m not making things up—I really do want to check out the exhibits.”
Jack wrapped his arms around Dara. “You are one of the most thoughtful, caring people I know.”
She hugged him in return. When she drew back, she gestured in the direction of the barn. “Now go see Leslie.”
He kissed her soundly, then watched her as she walked to the art exhibit building. When she reached the entrance, she looked over her shoulder, smiled, then vanished through the huge doorway.
Jack strode toward the barn and walked inside. He headed past kids who were working with their horses and/or talking with friends and fellow competitors.
He found Leslie brushing down Sammy, none of her friends currently around. “Hi, gumdrop.”
“Hi, Dad.” Leslie set her brush aside and hugged him. “I was wondering when you’d show up.”
“Nice ride.” He tugged on her braid. “I knew you’d win.”
“Thanks, Dad.” She hesitated and looked over his shoulder as a frown crossed her features. “Where is she?”
“If you mean Dara,” he said, “she went to see the art exhibits.”
Leslie picked up the brush, seeming more subdued now. “I’m going to put up Sammy. When I’m done, I’m going to the dance tonight with some friends,” she said. “If that’s okay with you.”
“Home by ten,” he said.
She nodded. “And in bed by eleven.”
He kissed her on the top of her head. “Proud of you, Les.”
She smiled and hugged him again. “I know.”
“Need any help?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I got this.”
“You sure do.” He tugged her braid one more time before he headed outside, into the growing darkness, to find Dara.
Chapter Fourteen
Dara looked out the glass Arcadia door at the pouring October rain. “It’s really coming down.” She jangled her car keys as she spoke to Emily.
“Sure you don’t want to stay the night here at the ranch?” Emily glanced from the window to Dara. “I haven’t seen rain like this in ages. The roads are going to be awful to navigate.”
“You’re exaggerating, Mama Hen.” It was Friday, and Dara had plans to be at Jack’s ranch for dinner.
They’d been dating for six weeks now, and it was her first time to have dinner with him and his kids. They’d put it off, waiting for Leslie to accept their dating. That hadn’t happened yet, but Jack felt that she would come around.
“I’m more worried about Leslie driving home in this rain.” Dara thought about the girl who had barely said “goodbye” as she walked out the door all of two minutes ago.
“If I get out of here now,” Dara said, “I’ll be able to follow her in case there’s any trouble.”
The front door opened and shut harder than it should have. Both Dara and Emily looked to see a drenched Leslie standing on the doormat, water dripping onto the mat.
”My truck won’t start.” Leslie’s expression looked as dark as the skies outside. “I tried calling Dad, but I’m not getting any bars on my phone and I get some stupid message about not being able to make a call at this time.”
“We can try my phone.” Dara pulled hers out of her pocket and checked the screen. “No bars on mine either, but I’ll give it a shot.”
Dara pressed speed dial for Jack, but she also got a message about trying the call later.
She lowered the phone at looked at Leslie. “Same thing here.”
“I have a project due Monday that I need to work on tonight.” Leslie’s frown deepened. “I’m going to be competing in Flagstaff all weekend, so this is my only time available.”
Dara took a deep breath and blew it out. She always felt on edge when it came to Leslie, afraid to upset the girl more than she already was.
“I’m headed there now.” Dara gripped her car keys. “I can give you a ride.”
Leslie stood for a long moment and stared at Dara.
“You’re welcome to stay the night here at the ranch if you prefer,” Dara said.
Leslie shook her head. “I’ll ride with you.” Her throat visibly worked. “Thank you.”
This could be fun, Dara thought. Leslie locked in the car with me for the next twenty minutes, when she doesn’t even want to be around me for two.
Leslie broke into Dara’s thoughts. “We need to get going.”
“Let me try the landline first.” Dara glanced at Leslie. “We’ll give him a heads-up that we’re on our way.”
Leslie appeared impatient, but said, “Okay.”
Dara went into the kitchen to the phone sitting on the breakfast bar. She dialed Jack’s number, but got a beeping sound that indicated the line was down.
Dara walked back to Leslie and Emily. “No luck. Cell service is spotty here to begin with, but I was hoping the landline was fine.” Dara added. “The weather report mentioned rain, but nothing bad.”
“The roads will be worse if we don’t leave now.” Leslie shook her head. “Dad will get worried and we don’t have any way to call him.”
“You have a point.” Dara slipped on her jacket before she gave Emily a quick hug. “Have a good weekend with the kids.”
“I always do.” Emily gave her a smile. “Be careful.”
“I always am,” Dara said with a teasing laugh. “On Monday I’ll bring a couple dozen doughnuts from Sweet Things. Have coffee ready.”
“You bet,” Emily said.
Leslie gave a slight wave. “See you, Emily.”
Dara followed Leslie outside the house and onto the porch. She looked out at the rainy evening. Ugh.
“Come on.” Leslie jogged down the steps and was instantly drenched again.
Icy-cold rain plastered Dara’s hair to her face and neck as she jogged to her Jeep. Leslie waited on the passenger side while Dara pressed the button to open the locked door. The girl climbed in as Dara did, and they shut the doors behind them.
Dara shivered and started the vehicle, turning the heater on. She rubbed at a spot on the windshield with her sleeve before settling back in her seat.
She frowned out at the darkening sky. “The visibility isn’t the best, but it’s not too bad.”
“Thanks for taking me with you.” Leslie’s voice drew Dara’s attention. “You didn’t have to.”
“I want to,” Dara said. “I’ve known you since you were born. I think the world of you, Leslie.”
The girl looked at her hands. “Even after the way I’ve been to you?”
“Yes.” The firmness of Dara’s reply brought back the girls’ attention. They met gazes. “I know this is hard, and I know it doesn’t seem fair. No one can replace your Mom, Leslie, and I’m not trying to.” She paused as she watched Leslie, who appeared to be working it through her mind.
Dara added, “Your mom was a wonderful person, and everyone loved her. I didn’t know her well, but I cared about her, too.”
Leslie slowly nodded. “It would be hard not to.”
Dara put the car into gear. “Let’s get you home.”
“You’re coming for dinner tonight?” Leslie asked as they started down the road.
Dara peered through the windshield. “Your dad says he has a specialty, but won’t tell me what it is.”
Leslie laughed. “Oh, you’re in for a treat if it’s the one and only specialty I know of.”
“Hints?” Dara held onto the steering wheel as a wheel hit a pothole in the road.
“Nope.” Leslie shook her head. “If dad wants it to be a secr
et, then you have to wait.” She gave Dara a sly look. “I hope you like ghost pepper hot.”
Dara raised her brows. “Ghost pepper? I like hot, but that might tip the scales in the other direction.”
Leslie’s grin was wicked. “I’ll make sure we have a pitcher of water on the table just for you.”
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you.” Dara squinted to see through the rain. “I guess I asked for it.”
“Yep.” Leslie sounded more relaxed and friendly, like she used to be before Dara started dating Jack.
“Damn.” Dara’s brow furrowed. “It’s gotten a lot heavier pretty fast. I’m having a hard time seeing the road.”
“It’s really getting bad.” Leslie seemed to notice for the first time how hard the heavy rain now pounded on them. “It’s worse now than it was.”
“It’s a good thing there aren’t any flood crossings on this road.” The steering wheel almost jerked out of Dara’s hands when the tires slid in mud. “We’d have to wait as long as it took to make sure we didn’t get caught up in a flash flood.”
“Uncle Jayson’s wife, Celine, was caught in a flash flood after they first met,” Leslie said quietly. “It was really bad.”
“I heard about that.” Dara sighed. “Yeah, it’s much heavier now. If I’d known it would get like this, I would have stayed at the ranch with you.”
“I shouldn’t have pushed,” Leslie said.
Dara frowned as she went on, “There’s no place to turn around. The road is too narrow.”
The Jeep’s tires slid again in the mud, and Dara’s heart thumped harder. She’d never driven in this kind of rain. “We’ll be fine,” she said more to herself than Leslie.
“I trust you,” Leslie said.
Damnit. Dara’s thoughts went in circles, repeating the same refrain. I should have stayed at the ranch with Leslie. Jack would have come to look for us.
She shouldn’t have risked taking Leslie out in these conditions, no matter how much the girl had wanted to go home.
When they finally reached the two-lane highway, Dara breathed a sigh of relief. The rain was still heavy and she could only see two car-lengths ahead. But the highway was safer to drive on than the dirt road.
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