In the Dust

In the Dust

Status: In Progress

Genre: Young Adult

Houses:

Details

Status: In Progress

Genre: Young Adult

Houses:

Summary

Main character Lianne O'Connor and her best friend, Chris Gray, take on the wild world of rodeo together. Both learn more about who they are as individuals, and face the struggles of surviving on the circuit. Yes, there will be romance.
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Summary

Main character Lianne O'Connor and her best friend, Chris Gray, take on the wild world of rodeo together. Both learn more about who they are as individuals, and face the struggles of surviving on the circuit. Yes, there will be romance.

Chapter1 (v.1) - Home

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: February 21, 2017

Reads: 60

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Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: February 21, 2017

A A A

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In The Dust


 

"Hustle, hustle!" Chris shouts when the calf bursts out of the chute. I spur my horse Maverick forward, swinging my rope. One, two, three swings and I let the loop fly. It lands around the calf's neck and I sit deep and put the reins on the horse's mane; Maverick bounces to a stop and the end of the rope flies from my hands.

Chris's grin radiates from the shadow on his face cast by his dirty Stetson. He climbs down off the chute, stirring up dust around his boots when he lands. "Please, please, please," he begs, walking up to Maverick, "Be my partner in team roping this year." He looks up at me with those baby blue eyes and wraps his arms around my leg, and I kick at him when my horse starts moving away.

"Don't you need a heeler, though?" I ask, trying to jerk my leg out of Chris's grip.

He groans and lets go. "Oh come on, Lianne, I've seen you heel before. You're better than Todd," he says. Todd was Chris's roping partner for their senior year of high school rodeo. I pretend to think for a few seconds, relishing how anxious my friend is.

"I dunno," I finally answer. Chris drops to his knees, hands together like a beggar. "I can't hardly manage entering any more than five events with only two horses..." I let my sentence drift to see if Chris begs more or offers a solution.

"I'll let you ride Buck!" He points frantically to the big sorrel horse standing tied at the rail. That's a big deal coming from Chris-Buck is his favorite roping horse.

"Still, it'd be hard switching saddles- I've only got one roping saddle, you know, and all the roping events are pretty close together-" Chris doesn't take it.

"Lianne, you've saved up every cent of money you've ever gotten, and I know you won a bunch last season," he says in a stern voice, pointing at me, "You can afford a decent roping saddle."

Okay. He's got me, and he knows it. "Fine," I answer, looking around the pen to find the calf bawling in a corner for its herd on the other side of the fence. "Now get me my rope, please."

Chris practically leaps up with a clap and a shout, making a cloud of dust fly up around him. He chases the calf for a minute before grabbing the rope and flinging it off the calf's neck. He walks back up to Maverick and hands me my lariat, already coiled, and asks if I want to go again. I can tell he's tired; we've been riding all morning, having only eaten a couple of biscuits for breakfast. We're both hungry, and it's getting hot out.

"Let's go in and get lunch," I offer. Chris nods and unties Buck, leading the horse to the barn. I dismount and follow with Maverick.

When we're finally in the house, a loud crack from the TV greets us, and we run up behind the couch to see the Rangers game. Chris's dad looks back at us and tells us there's pizza on the kitchen counter. My friend and I race for the kitchen, spurs jingling. Chris beats me to the pizza box and half lays on it, picking it up and holding it flat against his chest.

Unfortunately, he's holding it so tight that it opens. Half a pizza falls to the tile floor in a heap of greasy cheese, sausage, and crust.

"Dammit, Chris!" I exclaim, staring down at the mess, "You're pickin' that up."

He doesn't object. While he cleans that mess, I stomp to the refrigerator and rummage through it. Finally I decide that leftover macaroni and cheese will suffice. I take out two bowls and spoons and put the mac and cheese in the microwave, then watch Chris clean what would have been a good pizza from the floor.

“You missed a spot.”

“Shut up, Lianne.”

Giggling, I take the macaroni from the beeping microwave and split it between our two bowls, which we then take to the living room so we can watch the rest of the baseball game.

Come Tuesday morning, Chris and I drive out to a tack shop about an hour from our hometown for me to pick out a new roping saddle.


© Copyright 2017 Maladrey Leinahi. All rights reserved.

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In the Dust

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