Chapter 3
Cole’s stomach was in knots, but he tried not to let it show. He found his seat and immediately wondered if this was the best place for him, in the family section, close enough to hear the chatter in the chutes and see the athletes’ eyes.
Close to all the people who’d known Rocky almost as well as he had.
He thought he might be better off with more distance between him and the action, where he could be anonymous and fade into the crowd, but he didn’t want to insult Sky or make anyone think he couldn’t handle this.
But he wasn’t at all sure he could. It was his first event since Rocky’d died. His first live one anyway. He’d tested his courage watching a couple of events on TV, and it had gone okay—if he closed his eyes for eight seconds every time the chute opened up.
He’d thought speaking at Rocky’s funeral was the hardest thing he’d ever done, but he might have been wrong about that.
He knew sports were dangerous—football players broke their necks, baseball players blew out shoulders, but this sport?
The bulls didn’t care who they hurt. They were athletes too, and they did their jobs.
Hell, he’d flipped his motorcycle, so he knew a little about danger firsthand. He was just going to have to get through this. It was happening whether he watched or not.
“Hey, Bates. Good to see you back.” Kit Jones’s wife leaned over a seat so she didn’t have to shout. “We miss you.”
He’d found Kit a new agent, and Manuel too, because he’d needed a break.
“Hey, Josie. How are things working out for you guys?”
“Fine, Andy is fine, but are you taking people back? Because Kit would love it.”
He took that as a compliment. And honestly, if he was considering a champ with only a couple of good years left, he probably ought to make sure he had some younger guys. “Tell him to call me.”
“Oh, good news! I will. Thank you, Cole.” Josie sat back in her seat.
The announcers did their thing, and the barrel man headed out, dancing and telling jokes just off-color enough that the adults would laugh, and the kids wouldn’t understand.
Jimenez would be the last to ride, and he liked how the man seemed to know everyone—literally from the gate pullers to the newest guys. He pulled rope, he chattered to distract the rider, he even pulled one guy up and out of the chute when the bull tried to go up over the top of it.
All of that was marketable. The bull rider was cute as hell, too, and had a great smile. The camera was going to love him.
Bodie wasn’t a truck type, or anything like tractors. Nothing that rugged. He was more of a jeans guy. Boots, saddles, western wear for sure. Maybe whiskey and beer. Maybe casinos. He’d bet Bodie cleaned up well.
He pulled out his phone and started a list.
Was he seriously considering this? Was he ready?
Then Bodie bent over the gate, helping pull rope, and he got a view of that sweet ass. Damn. He’d almost forgotten about cowboy butts. Maybe he was alive after all.
Maybe he wasn’t ready, but he wasn’t going to find out sitting here pretending to watch cowboys ride.
Thinking about his connections, the people he was going to call for Jimenez and the deals he could make, it made him miss it more than a little.
He was a good agent. The best around until he’d lost Rocky.
Maybe he could get a little of that back.
He just had to survive watching or find an excuse not to have to.
The event was low-key, and the guys rode better than they would have at the big show, but it was a good, solid event, and he found himself clapping for the guys who made the eight, and groaning when they didn’t.
He was pleased to see that Kit was riding very well, and it turned out he wasn’t just being kind when he told Josie to have him call. He was pretty sure he had himself a rising star now.
By the time it came for Bodie to ride, he was far more relaxed. He watched the cowboy climb up the chute with more interest than he thought he would an hour ago.
Bodie was strong and solid, sliding onto the back of the bull like the champ he was. The way he moved reminded Cole of Rocky’s determined confidence. Bodie worked quickly to get that rope in place and slammed his free hand down over his fingers just the way Rocky used to do.
The similarity was eerie, and for a second, he thought he wasn’t going to be able to watch. But when Bodie nodded and the gate flew open, he was riveted to the ride, watching Bodie’s form, his quiet strength, and eight seconds were over before he could blink.
Then Bodie was off the bull and heading to the chutes with a single wave to the crowd as the pickup man came zooming around to rope the bull’s horns and encourage him to move back into the chutes.
That was something the cowboy could improve. He needed to play more to the crowd, maybe a dance, something. Being a champ involved more than winning.
It was a great ride though and not surprisingly the highest score of the night. That was what people paid for, right?
Then Bodie took the silver buckle with a smile, the check written out to the new scholarship fund was waved around, and somehow the event was over.
Cole had done it.
He’d survived.
Rocky would have loved this. He couldn’t count the number of times cowboys, and even Rocky’s own mother, had told him Rocky had died doing what he loved. And now to live on like this? Rocky would have been… well, as Rocky would have put it, tickled.
Sky walked Rocky’s mom back to get her purse, and she was smiling through her tears. “He would have been so pleased, Sky. I swear he would have.”
“Hello, Ellen.” Cole stood to offer her a hug, and she accepted. “I was just thinking the same thing.”
“We did know him, didn’t we?” Her chuckle filled the space between them. “He was easy to like.”
“He was stubborn as an ox.” He shrugged, chuckling with her.
“And somehow also easy to like.” He turned to Sky.
“I can’t thank you enough for this. I thought it might be a tough trip, but it turned out to be…
good for me.” It was a little overwhelming, and he wasn’t sure how to process it all, but he was starting to think he could.
“No problem at all. Would either or both of y’all like to come to the house for supper? We’re hosting all the champs that were here—so Hawk, Chris, and Bodie.”
“Are you? Ellen, if you like, I’d be happy to drive and take you back to your hotel when you’re ready.”
“No. No, I think I want to let you boys hang out. I have a bit of a headache, and I have a friend waiting to take me to supper. Thank you, though.”
“That sounds nice too.” He gave Ellen a smile and wondered if this might be the last time he saw her.
“Sky, I’ll take you up on it if you don’t mind.
It sounds like a great crowd.” He hadn’t seen Hawk Destry since Hawk had retired.
He’d been younger in his career then. Jason Desser, a former colleague from his firm, had agented Hawk back then. Jason had been a mentor.
“Of course. Do you have a vehicle, or do you need a ride? You can totally hitch one with me.”
“I have a rental. Thank you, though.” He preferred to come and go and not impose. “I’ll see you there, okay?”
“Absolutely. I’m going to close things down here, then I’ll head out. Do you need directions?”
“You can follow me out, if you want.” There was Bodie Jimenez. “I drove out, so I have my vehicle.”
“Hey, good ride. Congratulations.” He stuck out his hand to shake Bodie’s.
“Thank you, sir. I appreciate it. I’m glad to have done right by Rocky.” Bodie offered him a smile, a nod. “There were some good rides. This is a solid event.”
“It was entertaining, for sure. Bodie, have you met Rocky’s mother? This is Ellen Matheson.” Poor woman probably just wanted to get going, but he couldn’t be rude.
“Yes, ma’am. You have my number, if you need anything, please give me a call. Anytime at all.” Bodie’s voice was gentle as hell, soft and careful.
“You’re very kind, Bodie. I don’t know how anyone could do more for me than Skyler has today. Thank you, Skyler. Could I trouble you to walk me to the entrance? I’m being picked up there.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’d be honored.” Sky offered her his arm, no hesitation. “Are you going somewhere yummy for supper?”
“I’m not sure, somewhere in Burlington, I’m told, and then back to my hotel. I have a flight home in the morning. I told you Joe was very sorry he couldn’t be here, but the baby was just born yesterday…”
He smiled as their voices disappeared into the departing crowd. A new baby too. So many good omens. “So, I’ll follow you? What are you driving?”
“Big burnt orange duallie. I’m parked near the stock gates.”
“Great. I can’t miss that, can I?” Oh, they were going to have to work on that too.
“I wouldn’t think so. It’s significant. I’ll pull up close and wait. Where are you?”
“Lot three. I have a black rental SUV. I’ll find you.” He had Sky’s address, he could use GPS if he needed to, but Vermont roads were narrow and dark at night, getting lost seemed all too easy.
“Sounds like a plan, sir. I’ll be up at the front.” Bodie tipped his hat and wandered away, his phone going off. “Hey, y’all. Aluminum foil, cooking spray, and what? No problem. Text me?”
Cole shook his head, feeling a little like he should have turned the invitation down. It was going to be a house full of champion cowboys, and maybe he didn’t quite belong. But he had his car, he’d get out of the way when it was time.
He had no trouble spotting Bodie’s truck, it was just as big and ugly as it sounded. He understood the size if Bodie had a trailer to pull, but that orange had to go.
He tapped on his horn and made room for Bodie to pull out in front of him, and then turned on the radio. The rest of the drive was a blur of trees and snow, with a pit stop at a middle-of-nowhere strip mall with an open market.
“Thanks for this. I got an order from the house. Apparently, Beck’s with the kids. Too fun.” God, could this guy be more charming?