“The Quincy rodeo was a standing tradition, much like Christmas or Thanksgiving. It was one of the few events we always made sure to attend together, even if that meant closing shop. Except that evening, surrounded by my family, a piece was missing. I hadn’t realized until late in the evening, when I’d glanced across the arena and found Winn at the fence, that the missing piece was her. Another shift. She belonged by my side, not standing alone.”
