Chapter 2
two
Rhett
Country music fills the cab of my truck as I glance in the tow mirror to check on the horse trailer behind me.
Wilbur has to be exhausted, and I should probably stop and let him have a stretch, but I’m almost at Kissing Ridge. I just want a hot shower and to sleep for a week. All this driving and moving takes a toll. I’m looking forward to not staring out a windshield for a while.
Tater, my beagle mix, whines on the seat next to me.
“Let me guess. You need a break, too?”
Tater nudges my thigh with her nose, and I smooth the fur on her head. “I guess we’re all making a pit stop, then.”
I’ve travelled this highway enough times driving to rodeos that I know there’s a rest stop to suit a horse and a curious dog in a few more kilometres. Probably wouldn’t be a bad idea for me to take a break from behind the wheel as well.
After pulling into the snowplow turnaround, I check the area for signs of wildlife that Tater might go after before letting her out of the truck into the dark.
“No squirrels, missy. Or skunks. We’re almost home.”
Tater barks once before bouncing off and sniffing along the edge of the woods.
Home. Such a weird word. But that’s what you call a place you leave your possessions, I suppose. I’ve not had a real home in a long time.
The trailer door creaks when I swing it open, and Wilbur huffs his greeting with a stamp of his foot.
“I know, boy. It’s been a long day for me, too.
” He backs out of the trailer just as easily as he always does, and I tie him to the side with fresh water and hay.
Tater bounces along at her buddy’s feet, being a pain in the ass, and I have to close her in the truck cab before she tries to eat horse shit. Again.
I love her, but not when she smells like a horse’s back end while panting in my face.
The evening is quiet, and traffic is minimal along this final stretch of highway. I don’t know why I never considered moving earlier. Nothing tethered me to the expanse of prairies in northern Manitoba, except the gorgeous sunsets I’d grown to love.
It’s likely I just kept returning because it’s where my first home was. Family was complicated. There were no ties obligating me to stay. Especially after my grandfather died.
I was married once, and that didn’t turn out as great as the movies make it out to be. I suspect we just weren’t a good match, and that’s why things went sour. I had loved him with everything in my heart, but I guess that wasn’t enough.
So, yeah, returning home to Manitoba no longer held an appeal, and the drives to the best rodeos were a killer.
Kissing Ridge is smack in the middle of rodeo central, and it makes sense for it to be my home base.
Plus, the offer of a job during the off-season with the new rodeo training facility was something I couldn’t turn down.
Before re-trailering Wilbur, I lean on the side of my truck and look up at the night sky. It’s the same sky I’d see in Northern Manitoba, but it looks different here. More clear? Maybe hopeful? Not that I need anything to hope for. I have all I need with Tater, Wilbur, and Rodeo.
But maybe one day I can think of more again.
With a sigh, I run a hand down Wilbur’s side. His skin ripples, and he twitches an ear before turning his black head towards me. The best non-human friend I’ve had. Wilbur has been my rock for the last ten years. He’s better than most people, and even though he doesn’t talk, I know he loves me.
“We’ll be okay, boy.”
I’m not sure if I say that for his benefit or mine, but I feel a little more right since I did. You’d think a decent bronc rider like me wouldn’t need reassurance over anything, but you’d be wrong.
Wilbur goes back into the trailer like he knows the faster he’s settled, the faster he gets out, and I slide back behind the wheel.
Tater settles with a huff, propping her head on the passenger door, watching the darkness go by.
Dogs don’t seem as bothered as humans to never have a permanent place to settle.
A wandering lifestyle seems to suit them as long as they have their human with them.
Tater certainly never complains about our frequent changes in living arrangements.
Tater turns her head, like she knows what I’m thinking about her, and I chuckle in the truck cab’s silence. “Are you happy, Tater?”
Tail thumping on the seat, she crosses quickly and settles her head on my lap. Her ears are soft and soothing under my hand as I pet her head. As the truck tires hum along the pavement, bringing me closer to Kissing Ridge, I feel a contentment wash over me.
This is the right thing.
The right place.
The right choice.
Tater and Wilbur might be all I have that I cherish, but they deserve a nice life, too.
Kissing Ridge and the cowboys I’ve come to know a little on the rodeo circuit seem like stand-up guys.
They’ve been nothing but kind. When Hunter reached out about the job—a job that would fill the winter months doing something I loved—it was the sign I couldn’t ignore that maybe it was time to break away from the stagnant life I’ve lived for so long.
This is fresh and new. And a little nerve-inducing, but it’s a cowboy town. I’ll fit right in.
When I finally pull into Hunter’s ranch, my brows furrow at the number of vehicles in the yard. Several trucks and a car sit in a line in front of the farmhouse, and the porch light shines a welcoming glow in the yard. He didn’t warn me he had company, but I hope I’m not intruding.
After parking close to the barn and making a quick promise to the animals that I’ll be right back, I approach the door of the rambling farmhouse and knock.
A voice rings out, Hunter’s, I think, yelling that the door is open and to come in. I do, and I’m greeted with the sounds of a gathering in full swing. Voices and laughter fight with each other to be heard, as I wonder if I should walk down the hall or just call out.
“Uh, sorry if I’m interrupting, but Hunter is expecting me.”
The chatter of voices falls silent as Hunter walks down the short hallway toward me.
In socked feet, with a drink in his hand and no cowboy hat, he’s warmer than usual, and I wonder if it’s because he’s been drinking or if this is how he usually is.
Relaxed and friendly rather than the man with a cutting glare and sharp tongue for business matters.
“Rhett! Good to see you!” He offers me a hand to shake. “Was your drive okay?”
Hunter’s voice is warm and genuine, and I relax as I grip his hand. “Yeah. As good as it can be to drive across the prairies.”
Hunter laughs deeply. “Don’t I know it! I need smelling salts and Jamieson’s horrible singing when we make that trip.”
“I heard that!” An indignant voice carries down the hall.
Hunter grins. “You were supposed to!” he calls back before focusing on me again. “Would you like to join us for a drink? Or even a quick snack? We have lots.”
My gaze shifts down the hall, where the voices are lower now, and Hunter’s husband waves around the corner.
I wave back with a smile. He’s the lawyer here who sent me my contract and offered some advice when I needed it last year.
The rest of the rodeo crew is likely gathered, and while I’m tempted to stay and start building a new base of friends, I’m exhausted.
“If you don’t mind, I’d just like to unload Wilbur and get settled. It’s been a long day.”
“Of course, yeah.” He sets his drink on the hall table and pulls on his boots from the mat near the door. At least six or seven other pairs of shoes litter the hallway, and my gaze stays on the pair of stylish boots that are out of place among the worn cowboy boots and old running shoes.
Why a pair of stylish boots catches my attention, I’m not sure, but I’m curious who they belong to.
Hunter leads me outside to the barn and flicks on a light. Horses huff when they hear us, and heads poke out over stall doors.
“I think Wilbur will be comfortable in this one. Mack likes company.” Hunter scratches Mack’s ears with a crooked smile. “An attention hog, this one, but he prefers Gabe.” Hunter opens the stall door next to Mack. “Do you need help with him?”
“No thanks. I think I can manage it. He’ll be happy not to be in a trailer anymore, I imagine.”
Hunter follows me back outside and, even though I said I didn’t need help, he opens the trailer door and secures it while I get Wilbur.
Before I have Wilbur in the barn, the sound of a shovel scraping the trailer floor sounds, and I shake my head with a smile.
I’ll have to remember next time to just say yes to help, since he’s doing it anyway.
“Here you go, boy. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I bring my head to his, and Wilbur’s lips tug at the fabric of the flannel on my shoulder. His predictable good night affection.
“Love you too, buddy.”
When I exit the barn, Hunter is closing the trailer doors. “It’s all cleaned out for you. No sense in having a mess to greet you in the morning. Store it next to mine on the side of the barn.”
With a nod, I hop in and do that. Tater vibrates on the seat next to me. She loves meeting new people and going to new places. Thank god for that because lord knows she’s seen more of this country out of a truck windshield than most people.
“Keep your shirt on, Tater. You’ll meet him in a few minutes, so behave.”
Of course, she doesn’t listen and races over to Hunter like a loon once she’s out of the truck and barely has her feet on the dirt.
Hunter bends with a smile to greet her, and Tater eats up the attention like I’ve kept her in the closet for a week.
“She’s a cute little thing. Gabe will probably spoil her, just so you know.”
“You’re sure you don’t mind us staying while I look for a place?”
He shakes his head. “I’d be a dick not to offer you a place, Rhett. This old farmhouse has many empty rooms. But I won’t apologize if you hear or see things between me and Gabe. I mean, I won’t walk around naked or anything, but I also won’t stay quiet, if you know what I mean.”
His grin turns a little wicked, and I know exactly what he means. Despite knowing I might hear things that can’t be unheard, I laugh. A full belly laugh because my hosts’ indiscretions weren’t on my mind.
“I meant, are you sure you’re okay with the dog in the house?”
“Oh, totally. Jackson has his two here all the time. I love pets.”
Grabbing my duffel bag and Tater’s dog bed from the truck, I breathe a shaky breath before meeting Hunter again to walk up to the farmhouse.
“I didn’t know you’d have company tonight. I’m sorry to interrupt.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t even notice the day when we agreed on when you’d arrive. It’s a Scrabble night, and you’re more than welcome to join us.”
The laughter of the group greets us again when the farmhouse door opens, and the warmth of it all almost makes me smile. Somehow, I’ve gone through life without having this experience of a friend group gathered and laughing over board games. Or if I did, it was so long ago I don’t remember it.
“You’ve done so much already, and I appreciate it, but I think I’d just like to go to bed. Don’t worry about the noise or anything. I sleep through everything.”
“I get it.” He pulls off his boots and sets them on the tray, and I do the same. “It’s an open invitation. When you feel up to it, join us sometime. Now come on, I’ll show you your room.”
Tater scampers down the hall to the voices, which turn into coos and awws over how cute she is, and then I’m standing in the room of men I only vaguely know from rodeo. I nod towards Gabe, the only one besides Hunter that I’m confident to name.
“Hey, everyone. I’m sorry I’m not joining, but I’ve been driving for two days, and I need some sleep. Maybe I’ll catch you at the next gathering.”
A tall, lanky man jumps up and wipes crumbs from his shirt before extending a hand in greeting. “I’m Jamieson. You must be Rhett. Nice to meet you.”
“Likewise.” His grip is strong. Almost like he’s unaware of his strength. “I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around.”
“You will, but I’m retired from bull riding, so you’ll only see me in the school and as an occasional spectator at a rodeo.”
He does a quick intro around the group, pointing to everyone who waves and nods, and when he gets to the last man, the one with the platinum blond hair, I instantly know he’s the owner of the designer boots.
“This is Diamond.”
Blue eyes, a striking shade of sapphire, meet mine with an equally striking smile.
“Nice to meet you, Rhett.”
His gaze is like hot coals over my skin before he turns back to the board game in front of the group.
With a wave and a goodnight, I call Tater and follow Hunter up the stairs after they all promise to catch up later and keep the noise down.
“The bathroom is here.” He points to the only open door in the upstairs hallway at the end. “You can take the room next to it. Then we don’t need to share a wall.”
Laughing, he opens a bedroom door, and Tater follows me inside. It’s simple, with a bed, a dresser, and an overstuffed chair next to a small table. The bedding looks cozy as hell, and I yawn just looking at it.
“Clean towels are in the cabinet in the bathroom. Gabe and I are usually having breakfast by 7 A.M. If you’re awake, join us.”
His hospitality and genuine willingness to help momentarily have me at a loss for words. Rodeo family is always there for each other, but with Hunter, it feels a little extra, and I appreciate it.
Hunter lingers, likely wondering if I’ll say thank you, before squeezing my shoulder. “The door is always open, Rhett. If you need any help, just holler. Someone is always happy to help around here. With anything. Just ask.”
“Thank you. I…thanks.”
Hunter just nods and leaves me in my room. Tater sits at my feet with her head cocked, and I laugh softly. “Be a good girl. Lie down while I shower, and no barking.” She huffs like she’s insulted I’d even think such a thing and collapses in a fuzzy heap on her dog bed.
Muted voices from downstairs still sound in the hallway as I head into the bathroom for a shower. The water is hot; the towels are soft, and it feels good to finally be out of a vehicle.
Climbing into the comfortable bed after drying off, Tater snuffles and arranges herself on the floor as I close my eyes.
Sleep comes quickly, but so do thoughts of the man named Diamond and who he is to this group.
But that’s a task for another day.