He wasn’t wrong, and Drew couldn’t help but smile at the observation. Sure, she was stubborn, and a risk-taker, too, when she needed to be. She didn’t think that was such a bad thing. In her world, those qualities were often what separated those who succeeded from the rest who gave up.
Drew had no intention of giving up. She’d come here to win and didn’t plan to settle for anything less.
CHAPTERTHREE
“You girls have fun now.”Miz Destiny patted a gloved hand to her massive black beehive, adjusting her 1950s inspired headscarf before putting her hand back on the wheel.
“Thank you!” Maisie called after the pink car as it pulled away from the front of the arena. She turned to Donna and Cheryl, grinning from ear to ear. “I don’t know which part of that was cooler, the car or the driver.”
“You’d never get anything like that back home,” Donna said with a laugh. “I’m not sure we even have drag queens in Milwaukee, and I know for certain I’ve never seen a pink Cadillac.”
“Only in Vegas,” Cheryl agreed. “Now, let’s hop to it, ladies. I can’t wait to get inside and see some real-life bull riders.”
They located their seats with ease, though Maisie couldn’t help noticing how many empty spots there were, considering the rodeo was supposed to start in a few minutes. After checking the time and location again on her ticket, she gave voice to her concern.
“Did the ticket place say anything about it starting late?”
Cheryl seemed to weigh her response for a moment before admitting, “Actually, some dude at the buffet gave them to me.”
Maisie’s eyebrow arched. “He just handed them over?”
“He said his friends bailed, so he had a few extra.” Cheryl shrugged. “Also, he might be joining us in a little bit.”
“I see.” Maisie snorted. She’d gotten to the bottom of that mystery quickly enough. “Was he cute?”
“He wore a hat and boots.” Cheryl feigned swooning. “Honestly, I was too busy enjoying the view to listen very closely to the particulars.”
“What’s got you worried?” Donna asked.
Maisie’s gaze swept all the empty seats. She shrugged. “Nothing, I guess. It’s probably like going to a concert. Not everyone shows up for the opening act.”
An announcer’s voice came over the speakers, and a man on a sleek brown horse entered the arena wearing denim jeans, a plaid shirt, and the requisite cowboy hat and boots. He looked like the real McCoy, though his wrinkled face suggested he was a bit older than the typical rodeo star. Several loud whoops echoed out despite the sparse crowd. Maisie and her companions excitedly wiggled in their seats.
Cheryl let out a loud holler, clapping her hands. “Right. Here we go, ladies.”
Guiding his horse with the ease of an expert, the rider maneuvered to the center of the dirt-floored arena. After coming to a complete stop, the horse began to gallop in a wide circle. Maisie’s breath caught. What incredible trick were they about to perform?
The horse continued to gallop, completing one large circle followed by a second, and then a third circle that was smaller than the first two. This pattern was repeated going in the opposite direction. The breath Maisie had been holding leaked out slowly as the seconds ticked by, and no daredevil feats were attempted.
All of a sudden, the horse took off from one end of the arena heading at full speed to the other side. Maisie slid to the edge of her seat. Now things were getting started.
The horse lowered its haunches and skidded to a halt. With a deft movement of the reins, the rider urged the horse back up, followed by spinning several times in place like a dog chasing its tail.
“That’s kinda cool,” Maisie said, not exactly in a whisper but not too loud, either, because the crowd was nearly silent, and she was certain if she spoke at a normal volume she’d be heard by the people sitting twenty rows away. She’d never been on a horse, but there was something about the wild, rugged world they conjured in her imagination that appealed to her.
“You think this is a warm-up?” Donna asked as the horse and rider took off at full speed again, coming to a stop and repeating the spins.
Maisie nodded. “That would explain it.”
“Oh, here we go. There’s a bull.” Cheryl tugged at Maisie’s sleeve, pointing to one end of the arena where a dark black animal had emerged from behind a gate. “Yeah, baby. It ison.”
Maisie’s pulse quickened as the horse and rider ran toward the bull. “What do you think they’re going to do?”
“Rope him, maybe?” Cheryl guessed. “Or jump over him?”
“Guys?” Donna was frowning. “I’m not sure that’s a bull.”
“It has to be, Donna,” Cheryl said. “We’re at a frickin’ rodeo.”