things too soon.
Would she try again this year?
She wanted that part of her life back. Deep down, she was still as competitive as hell, and resented not being able to do what she once did so well.
Solution?
She needed to suck it up. Sign up for some rodeos even if she didn’t go...and, if she was serious about returning to competition, she needed to face the unpleasantness of demanding her custom barrel racing saddle back from her ex-boyfriend. The saddle she rode in now was perfectly adequate, but it wasn’t the saddle she’d bought with her winnings. The saddle she’d waited a year to be made and which represented her as a professional. The saddle that she bet Hallie Johnson was probably riding in right now. It hadn’t taken long for Faith’s ex to hook up with the hottest girl on the circuit.
She reached for the phone, then put it back down.
Did she really want to ruin her evening by contacting Jared?
No.
Which was why she didn’t have her saddle back. No night ever seemed worth ruining. A year ago, she hadn’t needed the saddle, so she’d never called. This year...she wasn’t letting herself off the hook.
Faith picked up the phone, found Jared’s name in her contacts and pushed the number. It rang and her heartbeat ratcheted up ever so slightly. Even small confrontations were harder for her than they’d once been. The call went to voice mail, and Faith wondered if it was because he didn’t recognize the number. Or because he did. Maybe Jared didn’t feel like discussing saddles with his ex.
She hesitated, then left a message. “Hey, Jared. It’s Faith. I’m calling to set up a time to get my saddle. Call me back.”
She hung up, glad on the one hand that she’d gotten the ball rolling, nervous now about the return call—which came within minutes.
“Faith! How are you?”
“I’m...better.” Her voice sounded totally normal as she spoke to the guy who’d let her down when she needed him most.
“Still working at the riding stable?”
“No. I got a job at a college. Benefits and everything.”
“Excellent.” He spoke a little too jovially. “You’re calling about the saddle.”
“Yeah. I am.”
Before she could ask him about setting up a time and place to meet, he said, “You know, I’ve been meaning to call you about that saddle. I’d kind of like to buy it from you.”
“Starting a new rodeo career?”
It took him a second to catch on, but when he did, he laughed. “No. I’m not barrel racing. But since you won’t be using it—”
“Who said I won’t be using it?”
There was a healthy pause, then Jared said, “You’re going to start competing again?”
“I might. And even if I don’t, it’s still my saddle and I want it back. For sentimental reasons if nothing else.”
“On the other hand, you could have some cold hard cash, and that trumps sentiment every time, right?”
“Who has my saddle?”
“Uh...”
“Who, Jared?”
“Does it matter? If you don’t want to sell, I’ll get it to you.”
“Ship it.”
“Ship it? That gets into some serious bucks, babe.”
“You gave my saddle away. Get it back to me or I’ll see you in small-claims court.”
Her heart was hammering, but she also felt empowered. Like her old self.
“Faith—”
“Send it to Eagle Valley Community College. The registrar’s office. I’ll give you the street address when you’re ready.”
“All right.” There was a sullen note to his voice—almost as if he were dreading the task of retrieving her saddle from whomever he’d given it to. Tough. “Give me the address.”
Faith rattled off the address, made him read it back to her, then asked, “When can I expect to receive it?”
“Soon.”
“Give me a ballpark.”
“Give me a break. We both know you’re not going to use it.”
Faith just stopped the screw you from dropping from her lips. “You have two weeks, or I’m going to file the court papers.” Even if it meant traveling to Flathead County, where he now lived.
“Fine.” He hung up without another word, leaving Faith holding her phone, amazed at how good it had felt to stand up for herself.
TAKING MADDIE DOWN the mountain to Pete and Cara’s on Saturday afternoon was as hard as ever.
“Next weekend,” he promised as she trudged out of the cabin to the truck.
“Unless something happens.”
There was a sullen note in her voice that Drew chose to ignore. They’d had a good day and would hopefully have another good day on Sunday. After picking her up early that morning—seven, as opposed to six—he’d laid out the drawings Lissa had made of the cabin renovation on the kitchen table and they’d gone over them together.
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