Big Girl Boots

Thirty-Three

College. That's the only explanation y'all need. Sorry.

***

"Coda, you saddle up. Blake and Kellan, you two can come help me set up." My aunt flicked her long braid over her shoulder and strode through the now open garage style door into the well-lit arena. I followed her, staring up in wonderment at the high ceiling while Kellan trailed behind with an exhausted air. If it was up to me to guess, thirty minutes of sleep on the bumpy car ride over wasn't nearly enough to make up for what was lost the night before and in the last few weeks. But, of course, Kellan was a tough old bastard who tried not to show just how dead he was feeling, mostly for Coda's benefit.

"Okay, each of you grab a barrel," my aunt commanded, pointing to the neat cluster of old oil drums in a corner by the door. There was a bright orange roping dummy next to them and a few ropes hanging on pegs above it all. I surged forward to start rolling a rusting blue one to the middle of the arena where barrel placings were already marked with sandbags, as mama Callie pointed out. Kellan wandered to the bag furthest from the door, the steady hollow rolling from his barrel echoing in the expansive building.

Through the door opening I could just barely see Coda. Faint winter sunlight streamed around her as she carefully brushed Skipper down with a curry comb, talking quietly all the while. I had always admired the sweet, quiet way she went about approaching new animals instead of just tossing on a saddle and going for broke. She was forever cautious but there was something about her ability to connect with a horse that I saw as beautiful. No matter what was going on in her life, they seemed to bring out the girl she really was and give her the confidence no one else could.

"Blake. Blake!" My aunt's hollering finally drew my attention away from Coda and back to the boring job of setting up barrels. She was motioning wildly to the storage corner while Kellan rolled the last obstacle, a rusty red drum, into place.

"Huh?"

"I said get the roping dummy. Are your ears turned on today?" I might've been offended to be barked orders at, but not from my aunt. The right side of her mouth lifted in a small smile to let me know she was joking and she motioned towards it one more time. "Go on, we don't have all day. You can put it on the other end of the arena and me and Kellan'll start saddling up. Coda should be just about done."

I wandered back to the corner and began dragging the life size orange calf through the dirt while Mama Callie and Kellan retreated back into the snow and cold. It was surprisingly warm in the arena, something I was grateful for. I hated snow. Once back outside I found Coda still muttering softly to Skipper, only he was all tacked up. My aunt and cousin were just hoisting saddles on their mounts while my horse stood by patiently.

***

"Okay," my aunt called, resting her hands on her hips with the reins collected in her right. She sat up straight in her saddle like the dignified horsewoman she was, commanding all the attention in the place. Coda, Kellan, and I were lined up in front of her, all on horseback and waiting patiently. We still had no idea what was going on but I had a sneaking suspicion about her choice of horses for Coda. "I want to get these boys warmed up a little bit before we do anything, so let's do some laps around the arena. Then Blake, I want you to run a barrel pattern for me, and Kellan, you can play with the dummy until I need you. Got it?"

We all nodded. Coda sat silently playing with Skipper's coppery mane, although the look on her face said it all. She was confused and terrified, and rightly so. Callie Dace tended to be the kind of woman that wouldn't back down from a challenge, which would either result in success or tears, sometimes both. I knew that side of her well, especially when it came to horses.

If you fell on your ass, my aunt would be the first one to pick you up, wipe your tears, and then tell you to climb back in the saddle for another run or else.

After making three slow, easy laps around the large arena, I lined up to run barrels just like I had a million times before, although this time I wasn't bitching about it. The sole reason for me sticking with barrels even after the come to Jesus meeting with my mother was the years of hard work I had put into becoming a winner in that event. As much as I used to hate being the stereotypical rodeo girl, it would be sad a pathetic to let all that work go to waste. Well, that, and it was at least one rodeo event that mom was happy with me doing.

Right on cue, we took off like a bat out of hell to run the cloverleaf pattern and I felt my braid be picked up by the wind my horse and I were creating. I felt the corners of my mouth tip up as we turned the last barrel and gave it all in the home stretch, loving the feeling of being back on a horse after nearly two months of being stuck inside. It certainly wasn't my fastest run ever, but it left me breathless and smiling.

"Good job, Blakey!" Mama Callie hollered, giving me an enthusiastic thumbs up as she stood in her stirrups. "How did it feel?"

"Amazing," I breathed, unable to quit grinning. My horse huffed and I gave his sweaty neck a pat of approval.

"Still have that need for speed, I see," she smiled back. That was something I loved about my aunt; she was happy if we were happy. "Coda, what did you think?"
She tilted her head to stare at the little blonde whose mount seemed dwarfed by most of ours. Coda shrugged and replied as blandly as possible. "Looked good."

"Great!" My aunt's grin stretched wider. "Wanna give it a go?"

I was barely able to contain a laugh when Coda sucked in a breath so abruptly it made a drowsy Skipper perk his head up. Her big blue eyes grew even larger. "You're joking, right? I'm not a barrel racer. I'm not even a roper, really, or at least not a very good one--"

"Coda, honey, you're a great roper. You've already won events, which is saying a lot for a beginner. And do you know why I want to get you going on barrels?"

My best friend shook her head, causing the blonde braid to swish underneath her hat.

"Barrel racing is about being on the same page as your horse and them knowing exactly what you want exactly when you ask. It builds that bond and it builds confidence. I want to see you try it."

Even under my aunt's encouraging gaze, I watched Coda start to wilt like a flower in a vase without water. When I saw her lower lip start to shake, I knew we were on the verge of losing yet another battle. Thankfully, Kellan appeared right when it looked like she was going to open her mouth to protest, making her close it promptly.

He gave her an encouraging smile that was almost the mirror image of his mother's. "Coda, I don't think it's such a bad idea. You love horses and you do great with them. Plus, barrel racing can be really fun if you let it. Just because Blake hates it doesn't mean you will. Give it a shot, okay?"
She glanced around the circle we had formed, first to Kellan, then to Mama Callie, then to me, although she refused to meet my eyes. Finally, she gave a slight nod, confirming her first positive decision to move forward since her life fell apart again. "Okay. I guess I'll try it."