Chapter 36
Maggie
By the time I make it to Edmonton, it’s well after dark.
The parking lot at Rogers Place is packed.
Betsy and I circle like a vulture, waiting for a spot.
The second one opens up, we shoot into it, and I kill the engine and grab up my phone and bag.
The entry is a circus, and when I make it to the front of the line, I’m practically bursting out of my skin.
I can’t miss this.
After five hours of deep, uncomfortable reflection and soul searching, I understand now what I only thought I knew before.
Life is risk.
Life is pain.
But life is also beautiful. Those are the parts you hold on to, not the dark pieces. Never the hard stuff. It will drag you down and drown you in its mediocre paranoia and suck the life right out of you.
I was fearless for much less before the incident in the Ukraine.
I traveled into a war zone to give a voice to people I’d never met.
But when it came to the one thing I needed, I ran away scared.
I will make this right. I will—
“Ma’am?” A young guy looks down at me from behind the plastic booth shield. The turnstile is up against my stomach. Shit.
He gives me a bored look. “Ticket or card?”
“Oh shoot, card please.” I offer up my card.
He holds out the machine and I tap it.
“Enjoy the show.” He hands me a ticket.
“Oh bud, there’s nothing enjoyable about this, and it is definitely no show.”
He glances at the people in the line behind me. “Um, okay?”
The turnstile moves and I push through and find my way to the seat he gave me on the ticket. I have to weave through people already seated, and heat flushes my face when it’s obvious I’m blocking their view.
I do a quick check at the cowboy being tossed around on a brindle bull. Not Hadley.
Something inside me settles.
I find the last seat in the row and sit in it. Pulling my jacket off, I fold it in my lap and drop my bag at my feet. The announcer is running over the stats for the night as I raise my gaze to the leaderboard.
Bravos are on top.
The tallied scores for the season have Hadley and Knox in the top two places. My gut flips.
He’s so, so stinking close.
I sit through a few cowboys and bulls I don’t know. Knox has a great ride on none other than Terminator and I find myself leaning forward, breath held the entire eight seconds. The score of eighty-nine point five moves him to the top place. It’s down to the wire, or the last ride of the night.
The one I only just made it in time for.
“Maggie!”
Focused on the scene unfolding in front of me, I barely register my name.
“Maggie Gallagher!” combined voices call.
I turn around to see Nia and Kayley standing in their seats, waving.
Oh wow . . . They came.
“Come up here!” Gemma is pointing to the seat by Julie.
I rise and then drop down remembering how much trouble it was to shuffle past an entire row of people. They’re six rows up, and on the opposite end of their row.
“Sit down!” someone yells as he stands gesturing wildly that he can’t see.
Kayley spins around. “You want to come down here and make me? Shut the hell up, that’s my brother’s girl and he’s riding next.”
The man shakes his head and drops back to his spot.
“Please, Maggie, come sit with us?” Nia begs, her hands pressed together in a prayer.
“Oh, for the love of all things holy, you gotta be up there.” The man behind stands, turning to the side so his seat is empty. “Hop on over, love.”
The woman two seats back does the same. “Sit with your family, go on.”
The young guy behind her rises and smiles.
Then another person does the same.
Then another.
Until a direct diagonal path is waiting for me to make my way to the women who are beaming at me.
Shit.
I grab up my bag and climb onto my seat. As I move to step over, the older man takes my hand, and I climb up and stand on his seat. The woman reaches for me. I take her hand and navigate the next one.
The young guy bows and holds out his palm. I slap my hand into it and his smile turns into a grin.
“Thank you,” I say, and he simply nods.
Another hand, another seat stepping stone.
I make it up the six rows, thanks to the help of utter strangers, and emotion burns behind my nose by the time Kayley folds me in her hug. “Hell, we didn’t know if you’d come.”
“I almost didn’t.” The words are too wobbly to hide my emotion now.
Nia shoves her sister along a seat. “You are absolutely sitting next to me.”
I huff a laugh and sit by her, folding her into a hug. “Hey, gorgeous.”
“Man, I thought we lost you when you two broke up.” Her eyes search mine, as if waiting for an answer I can’t give her.
“Nia,” Kayley warns.
“But—”
“Now this pairing right here,” the announcer chirps, “was almost a fatal one, this time a year and a half ago. These two know each other well. In chute number three, say hello to Hells Bells! And the man who came back to tame his archnemesis, HAD-LEY J-O-N-E-S! He’s fighting for the hardware tonight folks, and injured to boot, so give it up! ”
Nia’s hand slips into mine. My stomach is a wildfire of nerves. I haven’t seen Hadley since the day he was carted off the arena. It feels like a lifetime ago, not a mere seven days.
The chute flings open, and on his arm, held high, is a bright blue cast.
His black hat.
Not his helmet.
I can’t breathe.
My grip is crushing Nia’s, but I can’t pry my fingers away.
Hells Bells spins, bucking high and true. Hadley rides through it, spurring every other rotation.
My gaze alternates between my worn and bloodied heart being flung around on a raging animal and the clock ticking over so slow, as if time must have forgotten its place.
The black and tan bull is quick, rough, and snappy.
The crowd is still . . . silent. Everyone’s attention set on the man on the bull.
Round. And back.
Round again.
Spur.
Lean.
Jerk.
Hells Bells buries his head and unseats Hadley briefly. He folds forward but never touches the bull. Logan and his crew flank the animal from a distance.
Our cowboy spurs the bull forward, snapping his hand back in the air.
The number six flashes on the screen as if in slow motion.
I stand, dragging Nia up with me.
“Come on, Hads,” I whisper.
I feel Nia’s gaze on me. Every short, burning erratic breath puffing through my lips sends my heart faster.
Seven drags across the clock in red.
“Almost there, brother,” Kales growls.
Her words send my stomach on end. Hadley Jones is infamous for his dismount and escape execution. If there is a most-dangerous moment in this ride for him, it will be that. Not on the back of the animal. That, ironically, is a safer place for this man.
Gemma and Kayley rise to their feet as the clock flings over to eight. A subtle cheer bursts from the crowd but dies out when they realize the cowboy is not dismounting.
Something’s wrong.
Eyes widening, I slap a hand over my mouth as Hadley sways and curls forward like he’s falling asleep on the back of the bull.
Hells Bells keeps raging.
Logan closes in, shouting at Hadley.
Who doesn’t respond.
“No . . .” I whimper.
Logan’s clapping his hands. His crew falls in, doing the same. The bull aims for them, bucking erratically like he’s only now figured out he has a freeloader and wants none of it.
Hadley comes to, shaking his head.
He tugs at his hand and is free-falling toward the dirt a second later.
“NO!”
I release Nia’s hand and skip over the legs in front of me. My vision narrows to my footing and the man lying bent over in the arena.
The man who is barely moving.
“Hadley!” I scream at him.
I don’t care the entire audience has turned to gawk at the hysterical woman scrambling down the stairs between the aisles. I trip over the second to last step and catch myself on the shoulder of a stranger before rushing at the rails.
“Get UP!” I grip the rail with white knuckles. “GET UP!”
Hadley, please get up . . .
I slump against the rails as Hells Bells spins back, ignoring Logan and his bullfighters.
“Ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to step away from the rail,” a security guy in all black says, looking down at me.
I flick my focus back to Hadley.
To the bull closing in on him.
I slip through the rails.
The guards grabs the fence. “Come back. You can’t be in there!”
Not paying him any heed, I sprint for the bull.
“Hey!” I’m waving my hands in the air. Logan spins back and curses before pulling his hat off his head and tossing it at the bull. Who is still making a beeline for Hadley, trying and failing to push to his feet.
He wobbles on one foot and falls back down.
Cowboys rush for him.
I sprint for the bull.
I glance to the skies overhead. Well, the lit-up ceiling of the enormous event center. “Doing something meaningful, Cap.”
Something meaningful that I want—no, need—to do.
For Hadley.
For his family.
For myself.
I come close to the bull and slap it square on the hind. It stumbles to a stop and turns back.
“Chase me! Go on!”
I’m much more nimble than my broken cowboy. I’ve outrun militia and bears in the forest. How hard can one bull be?
Hells Bells lowers his head and snorts.
“Fuck you,” I grind out.
Logan’s shouting at me.
Levi’s running for me.
Hadley’s on all fours. The two other bullfighters are trying to haul him to his feet.
I wait until Hells Bells is almost on my position and take off for the return chute.
Closing in on the gate, I feel the hot breath on my back. I make a grab for the rails on the side and swing upward . . .
My fingers slip and I miss the rail.
Hands reach down.
A rough grip hauls me the rest of the way.
I look up into the disbelieving gaze of none other than Kade Knox.
“Dammit, Gallagher. Always showing us up.”
I offer up a brief grateful expression as the gate shuts behind the bull. Breathing a thank you to Knox, I climb back down and rush for Hadley, now strung up between the two bullfighters.
“Sunshine?” he chokes, face breaking.
“Yeah, cowboy. Right here.”
The bullfighters step aside when he stands a little taller, swaying but almost steady.
“Don’t you dare go dying on me, Hadley Jones.” I slide my arms around his neck and he tugs me tighter.
I lean back, eyes tightening.
A lopsided smile tugs over his lips as his grip fades. “Nah, no dying today, baby. God, I missed you.”
The score of ninety-three point five covers the screen.
“Cowboy up! Ladies and gents! HAD-LEY JONES has won the P. . . B . . . R Championship!” the announcer screams into the microphone as fireworks flare to life around the arena. The crowd goes wild.
He did it.
He won.
The Pbr Champion is his. He saved his ranch . . .
I dust a kiss to his lips. “You can stop missing me now.”
And he got the girl.
A ghost of a smile grows on his gorgeous face before he collapses in the dirt.