He tells her to put her back into it, and so she does. Arms that have spent the last two years (and most of her childhood) hauling hay bales, mucking stalls, breaking horses, and working farmland, pull hard to the left. The result isn't a nice, wide turn at 30 miles an hour, but something much tighter.

Tires slide in the dirt without pavement or asphalt to give them that nice, high-pitched squeal. But they are turned around, and so (heart racing) Kate calls this a win.

"Whoopsie-daisy."