Born and raised on a ranch, Holt Farrier could tell which horses would be steady and reliable and which would just as soon kick you in the teeth as let you put a saddle on them. It was the latter ones he loved to work with — winning their trust, teaching them he was a leader worth following. Horses Holt could understand. People... people were harder. He was a straight talker, and sometimes people said things they didn't mean or tried to trick him. So while he was friendly with strangers, he only trusted his small circle of friends.

Annie, on the other hand, could charm the hat right off the grouchiest rancher, which is just what she did when she met Holt at a rodeo. She raced her mare through the barrel course, leaping and turning as though they were one instead of two. Annie knew how to handle horses just as well as Holt. And crowds. She loved the roar of applause, the gasps as her horse reared on command, hooves pawing the air.

At the end of her turn, she trotted over to the sidelines where Holt stood, eyes f ixed on her.

“Howdy, cowboy,” Annie said. “Enjoy the show?”

“Not bad,” Holt said.

Annie raised an eyebrow. “Let's see you do better.”

Laughing, Holt held up the schedule. “I ain't up for another half hour. Do you want to grab something to drink while we wait?”

The rest, as they say, was history. After Annie and Holt were married, they continued in the rodeo circuit for a few years. But when Medici approached them to join his circus, they jumped at the chance. They got to design their own act — the two of them — from beginning to end, and they were able to include more tricks than the rodeo judges allowed. Plus, once they had Milly and Joe, they were able to travel as a family, all together, and there was always someone to mind the babes while they were performing.

“Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls,” Medici's voice boomed one night in Lexington, Kentucky, “prepare to be amazed at the unbelievable feats and dazzled by the dancing hoofwork of the king and queen of horses, Holt and Annie Farrier — our very own Stallion Stars!”

Eight-year-old Milly peered out from the side curtain of the ring as Joe squirmed next to her. It wasn't until their parents galloped out that he stilled, his head poking through the gap under her.

Annie and Holt steered their horses in opposite directions through an obstacle course of hay bales, barrels, and upside-down buckets stacked in a pyramid. As their horses neared each other, Annie stood, arms f lung out to the sides.

Joe gasped as, with a light push-off from her own steed, Annie f lipped and twisted through the air, landing behind Holt. Then Holt swung sideways in one direction as Annie lunged in the other, making the horse appear to be riderless.

Whooping, they both pulled themselves back up while a stagehand loosed the next pair of horses into the ring. Annie slid onto one, grabbing the reins for the second. Then she stood, one foot upon each horse's back, guiding them around the ring at a canter.

Meanwhile, Holt showed off his rope work by swinging lasso after lasso as the rest of the herd joined the loose horse in the ring. Soon Holt had a line of horses standing together. Annie leapt back to her original horse, and together the duo directed the other horses through jumps and run patterns with whistles and called commands. Then, for the grand f inale, Annie and Holt each rode their horses over the course, thundering through it with ease. The horses all galloped into a perfect spiral with Annie and Holt at the center, standing atop their saddles, arms around each other and waving at the crowd, their faces alight with adrenaline.

As soon as the duo was out of the ring and the horses were handed off to the crew, Annie jogged over to her kids and swept them up into a hug, the key necklace she wore bumping into Milly's chest.

“How are my little good luck charms?” she said, planting kisses on their cheeks. “I love you so much! Did you like the show?”

“Sha-baam!” Joe replied.

“You've been spending time with Ivan and Catherine again, haven't you?” Holt laughed as he joined them. He ruff led the tops of his kids’ heads.

“You were great! As always,” Milly said.

“I think we may need to add some new rope tricks,” Holt said to Annie. “Maybe you could jump over a rope I throw?”

“Stop f iddling with the show,” Annie answered. Then she smiled at her husband, her eyes softening. “We can think about it later. Right now, let's get these little rascals to sleep. It's way past their bedtime.”

Holt scooped Milly up as Annie carried Joe.

“Not sleepy,” Joe objected, even as he curled into his mother's neck, eyes drooping.

After they'd tucked the children in, Annie and Holt sat outside, gazing at the stars. The music of the circus continued in the background, but the crowd was dwindling now that the main performance was over. There'd be stragglers, of course, some staying past midnight to gawk at Pramesh and his snakes or try to tug on the bearded lady's facial hair. Boy, would they get in trouble for that!

“They're growing up so fast,” Annie said.

Holt startled. He'd been thinking through the show again. “The kids? Isn't that what they're supposed to do?”

“Yes, I just... sometimes wish I could slow it all down, capture a moment — like a photograph, you know?”

“Photographs are pricey,” Holt said.

“Ah, my darling, but the only thing worth anything in this world is love.”

Holt tugged his wife to his side and she leaned her head on his shoulder. “Well, then, we must be millionaires.”

“As rich as the number of stars in the sky,” Annie whispered.

“And anyway, time ain't going to stop for the likes of us.”

“You're right. Time may not stand still, but each new moment lets us learn and change and grow our love.”

“Speaking of change —” Holt started.

Annie slapped his chest lightly. “Holt Farrier, are you going to be talking about switching up our act again? Haven't we already f iddled with it four times since we left Atlanta?”

“Well...” Holt didn't know what to say.

“You and Milly, always experimenting, exploring new things. What am I going to do with you?” Smiling, she examined him. “All right, cowboy, tell me your idea.”

So Holt laid out his plans as Annie rested against his side, gazing at the stars. Somewhere in his speech, he f igured out she'd fallen asleep, so he lifted her into his arms and carried her to their tent. There'd be time enough tomorrow.

A few years later, war broke out. Proud to serve his country, Holt had enlisted in the army, and although Annie fretted over him, he'd waved off her fears. Holt had never considered she would be the f irst one to run out of tomorrows. Qg7WRVgUy6WpwLRe2xIpNMIYUGzh4bxie7xpMd0PV6m9k7SP60H5JOyLG6ktBVOK