• Book Titles
• News & Updates
• Contact & Ordering
• About the Author
• Frank Q. Dobbs

"Aren't we there yet?" Kendra whined, fidgeting in the back seat of their four door dually pickup truck. "They're going to start without us! How much farther is it?"

"Don't worry," Dad said. "We haven't missed it yet."

"What time is it?" Cassie asked. "You know it starts at 2:00 o'clock, right? And these high school rodeos always start on time." I can't believe we're running late...again! Cassie thought, looking out the window, searching for the fairgrounds. It would be a miracle if we ever made it to a show on time.

"This isn't my first rodeo you know," said Dad, a former steer wrestler champion that had to slow down after a serious knee injury.

As they pulled into the fairgrounds, a man standing at the entrance gate held up his hand for them to stop.

"Contestants or spectators?" He asked.

"Contestants!" Kendra shouted, sliding forward in her seat.

"Shhh!" Mom insisted. "Let your dad handle this."

"Why else would we be pulling this horse trailer around?" Kendra grumbled, flopping her petite body back in her seat. "Duh!"

Sometimes looking at Kendra, Cassie felt like she was looking into a mirror. They both had shoulder length, sandy-brown hair, too straight and fine to do much with, and dark brown eyes that Cassie had been told was her prettiest feature. But most of the time, Cassie didn't think she looked like her sister. She was sure Kendra had a wider nose and more freckles. And Kendra was definitely wearing more makeup these days.

Mom glared at Kendra. "Now you be quiet!"

"I guess she told you," Cassie whispered to her twin sister. Ha! For once, Little Miss Goody Two-Shoes is the one getting into trouble.

"Oh, be quiet!" Kendra sneered.

"We have two contestants here," Dad said, pointing to the back seat. "They're entered in the Cowgirls Barrel Racing."

"Names please," the gate man said, flipping through the papers on his clip board.

"Cassie and Kendra Mackall." Dad leaned his head out the window to look at the list. He pointed. "Their names are right there."

The gate man waved. "Okay. Go ahead."

Dad drove through the gate and headed toward the arena. From across the infield, Cassie could see that everyone in the grandstand was standing. She rolled down her window and could hear music blaring. "Oh, man! They're playing the National Anthem already."

"You still have plenty of time," Dad said, finding a parking spot among the long line of trucks and trailers. "All you've missed is the Grand Entry."

"Yeah, but I wanted to get Scooter in the arena before the barrel racing," Cassie explained. "He always does better when he can feel the ground conditions beforehand."

Kendra laughed as she jumped out and ran back to the trailer. "Ah, that explains why you haven't been placing. What an excuse."

"It's not an excuse!" Cassie defended. "A lot of horses do better when they can warm up in the arena ahead of time."

"Well, maybe horses do," Kendra said, grabbing the lead rope of her stocky, black gelding, Spark, as he backed out of the trailer. "But don't forget, you're riding a pony."

"I prefer to call Scooter a little horse," Cassie argued, tying him to the trailer. "And I'm getting tired of you making fun of his size." She quickly brushed off the little bay. "He's fifty-five and a half inches tall. That's only a half of an inch away from being a horse."

"Still makes him a pony in my book."

"It didn't slow down Sherry Cervi and her little horse, Hawk," Cassie fired back. "They became the Women's Professional Rodeo Association's Champion in 1995 and 1999, and he's only fifty-eight inches tall."

Dad grabbed their saddles, one in each hand, from the tack compartment. "If you two would concentrate more on getting ready, instead of arguing-- This is one of the reasons we're late in the first place."

"Tell her to be quiet then," Cassie said, pointing. "I'm tired of her making fun of Scooter. Just because she's been winning more than me lately, she thinks she rules."

"Tend to your own business and get on your horses. You two better be thinking about your runs, or neither of you are going to do any good," Dad said. "I'll go find the secretary and let her know you're here."

"Okay, Dad," Kendra said. "I'm just about finished."

As Cassie rode around, looking for a place to warm up, she spotted her best friend Tammy, galloping slow, small circles in a grassy spot between parked trailers. "Cutting it a little close, aren't you?" Tammy said, stopping her horse, Jiggs, along side of Scooter. Tammy had long black hair and a natural tanned complexion that made it obvious she was Native American. She was raised out west and spoke with a strong, western accent. When she said, "you," it sounded like "ya," and "to," sounded like "ta". She also left most of the g's off of her words. It sounded like she said: "Cuttin' it a little close, aren't ya'?"

"Yeah, a little." Cassie sighed as she watched Kendra run Spark full blast across the infield. "I don't know what her big hurry is. There's still a few more events before the barrel racing. She's going to end up pulling a muscle in that poor horse. You shouldn't run like that without warming your horse up first."

"It looks to me like she's heading over to where Bridgett and Tiffany are riding."

"That figures." Cassie said. "They've been joined at the hips these days."

Bridgett was rodeo's version of a spoiled little prom queen Daddy bought only the best barrel horses for. And Tiffany was one of her followers--only accepted because she was riding a good horse.

"I guess that really riles you since she used to hang out with you instead," Tammy said. "You guys used to be so close."

"It really ticks me off how two-faced they are." Cassie reached down to adjust the length of her reins. "They're only hanging around her because she's been winning lately."

"Yeah. You're probably right," Tammy agreed. "Did you notice how fast they dropped Latisha Johnson after her horse got hurt a couple of weeks ago. You'd a thought she had the plague or something."

"Hey listen. I'll catch up with you after the barrel racing, "Cassie said, nudging her horse. "I have to get Scooter warmed up. Good luck!"

Tammy waved. "Yeah! You too!"

"Our next cowgirl to run will be Kendra Mackall, a freshman from Seville," the announcer's voice bellowed over the loud speaker. "Now remember, ladies and gentlemen, a time of 16.725, currently held by Tiffany Holloman, is the time to beat. This next young cowgirl could be the one to do it."

As Kendra and Spark came flying down the alleyway, Cassie listened as the announcer reported the action. "A real nice turn around the first barrel! A quick tight turn around the second! Nice and smooth around all three! Now bring him on home, Cowgirl!" The crowd roared. "Our electric eye says she just clocked in a time of 16.707! There's your new leader!"

Cassie watched from behind the arena fence. She leaned over and patted Scooter's neck. "That was a heck of a run," she whispered into his twitching ear. "We'll have to give it all we've got if we want to beat her." Then she said a quick prayer. "Oh, God. Please help us beat her."

"Our final cowgirl to run this afternoon will be Cassie Mackall, from Seville. You saw her twin sister, Kendra, run a little earlier. Kendra is our current leader."

Cassie pulled her black cowboy hat down tight and headed for the gate. "Easy, Scooter. Easy," she repeated in a calm voice. The closer they got, the faster Scooter pranced. Just as they approached the opening of the gate, Scooter lunged and took hold of the bit. Cassie gave him his head and they were off!