Maybelle circled Rango outside the arena. Number two had just gone with a time of 18.6. Respectable. “Annnd GO,” the official called to Caitlyn Richardson, who was running in the number three spot. Some of the women liked to start their mounts from a dead stop. She preferred to lope Rango up to the official, then spur him into high gear. Rango loved to run, which made her job a dream. And now that both of them weren’t working quite so hard on the turns, there was nothing more exhilarating than running Rango through a cloverleaf.
“Maybelle, you’re on deck. He’s introducing you now.”
She nodded, pushing out a last centering breath, and circling Rango one last time. Familiar with the drill, he started to lope, and when the official waved her through, she let out a yell, and nudged his flank
