Tanya McGee and her horse Slingshot need a time of fourteen seconds or better to take home a trophy tonight.” “You can do this, Slingshot,” Tanya whispered in the horse’s ear. “If you don’t win, we’re done.” And Tanya didn’t want this to be her last ride. She wanted to walk away from barrel racing with at least one win—a positive memory to replace the car accident that had abruptly ended her career. “I’m warning you, Slingshot, your life at Red Rock will be boring.” Slingshot loved to race barrels. She felt it in her bones. If he didn’t like to compete he’d balk at being hauled from state to state, but he was a good traveler. He never gave her trouble loading or standing in the trailer. His only weakness was not responding to her commands during competition, and she didn’t know why. “Be sure to stick around after the rodeo, folks. Tonight’s cowgirls will be signing autographs at the front entrance.”
