Somehow, Riley finds his escape, and Diesel follows in his shadow. The two of them are hilarious together and will be best friends until they’re old and wrinkly. Now that Diesel and Rowan are more serious, so much more has been added to their friend dynamic.

I let out a calm breath, double-checking my phone, the meat, and starting all over. It’s the chef version of pacing. “Maize, why don’t you go check out the rodeo and walk away for a little while?” Dad suggests, noticing my unease. “We’ve got this under control. The boys are doing what they’re supposed to, and as long as Mama is over there watching them, they won’t mess this up. She’s literally your own Southern mob boss right now.” He chuckles.

I look at him with big blue eyes. “Daddy, you sure?”

“You need a break before you drive yourself crazy.”

Sucking in a deep breath, I nod. “You’re probably right.”

“Of course, I am, sweetheart. Fathers always know best.”

“Okay, okay, don’t go getting a big head or anything,” I say, then take off my apron and hand it to him. “The brisket needs to be pulled soon. Elle knows when.”

He salutes me, and I give a small wave, then walk past the rows of pits toward the main area. I make my way past horse trailers and temporary corrals.

In the arena, hooves pound against the ground, and when I’m closer, I see it’s barrel racing. The young teens’ age group is competing right now. It brings me back to riding when I was younger, and I realize how much I miss it. I can’t remember the last time I saddled up and took one of the trails. In high school, it was my escape and gave me a chance to think. Now, I spend most of my time in the kitchen.

Leaning against the gate, I watch this girl, who’s probably no older than twelve, race her horse. Her brows are furrowed, and she wears a serious expression as her ponytail sweeps in the breeze. When the young girl finishes, a small group of people stand and cheer, and that’s when I see Sarah Cooke.

Groaning, I roll my eyes. Even though it’s been years since I graduated high school, I will never forget how she treated me. Sarah was the real-life Regina George, all the way down to the blond hair and the clique of girls who followed her around.