so, he’d keep doing it.
His friends on the Lost Creek circuit were of the same mind, and riding with them was as good as when they’d been on the same team in their college days. Better, in fact, since they were now earning money off of it.
Well, Ryan Prosper wasn’t; he’d been forced into retirement by a nasty injury that put his career in jeopardy if he continued to ride.
But the rest of the gang was still on the circuit. Ryan was now their host in Lost Creek and had settled into an unofficial capacity of running the rodeo events there.
It was about time he’d jumped back in, but Ford got it. He wasn’t sure how he’d react when he was no longer able to compete, especially if he wasn’t ready to do so. Considering how he avoided pretty much everything else in his personal life, Ford probably would have turned into a complete hermit in some random corner of the country.
At least Ryan had taken over managing his family ranch, and that was no mean feat. His sister, Kellie, brought in additional income to the place by hosting a therapeutic women’s retreat or some such out of the homestead house, applying her psychologist training with her ranch upbringing. Broken Hearts Ranch had become a home away from home for several women who’d come seeking exactly what Kellie offered.
It had become a home away from home for Ford and the other guys as well, but in a much different respect.
He was expected there by the end of the week, in fact, to get some practice in before the next events in the area. But he’d been due to come home and check in, so come home he had.
“Wool gathering, bro?”
Ford smirked and glanced up at his big brother. “A little.”
Darren laughed to himself. “You’re ready to leave, huh?”
He winced. “Is it that obvious?”
“Only if you’re looked in the face.”
“Don’t tell Mom,” Ford begged, shifting in his chair and craning his neck. “She’ll just fuss and imagine there are problems in the family.”
“Well, that’s what happens when you’re the only one who leaves.” Darren shrugged, not seeming particularly concerned by the idea. “Carly and Shay both stayed local, and Tuck’s building his own place on the land. You’re the roamer.”
Ford raised a brow, suddenly feeling tense where he sat. “Is that a problem?”
Darren shook his head, evenly meeting his gaze. “Nope. I get it. You and I both know we’re good, and you know we’re all proud of your success.” He paused, cocking his head. “You do know that, right?”
“Of course,” Ford muttered awkwardly. He ground his teeth a little, shaking his head. “I gotta find where I fit, Darren. You’ve got your plans, and I don’t have any.”
“You’re gonna need to hold still for five minutes if you want plans,” his brother pointed out. “And I’m not talking about a week-and-a-half every four months when you’re up here pretending you’re helping me out.”
Ford grinned, relaxing almost completely now. “So that’s obvious, too?”
“Yep.” Darren shared a knowing smile. “You’re biting your tongue after about day four, just dying to tell me how it could be better and what you would do. Or to tell me off for being bossy.”
“That’s nothing special. I’ve been doing that since we were kids.”
“You were born telling me to shut up. I know—I remember.”
Ford only shrugged. He and Darren were close in age, almost exactly a year apart, and it usually worked in their favor, but it also had put them in frequent competition with each other.
Luckily, they rarely fought.
Anymore.
“You’ve got it set here,” Ford told his brother, knocking his knuckles against the top of the desk. “You really do. The moment Dad lets up, you’re ready to step in, and everything is just going to explode into greatness and fall into place. I’ll admit, I’m jealous.”
Darren snorted softly. “Jealous. Of waiting for our dad to decide he’s old before I can actually do my job the way I want?”
“Of knowing what you want,” Ford corrected. “And having it in front of you.”
“You know what you want, too,” Darren reminded him. “You’ve just got to figure out where it is.” He smiled ruefully, his eyes showing their usual mischievous glint. “And you’ve gotta be tired enough of rodeo to do something about it.”
That was a fair point, but it wasn’t about to happen anytime soon.
He’d ride rodeo until he could no longer get on his horse unassisted.
Maybe that should be his plan, then.
Rodeo or die.
“Then I