Chapter 1 #2
A knot of emotion erupts dead center in my chest, climbing my throat until it’s so wedged in there, my eyes burn and I don’t think I can speak. Her sad smile returns, but this time, I tip my hat and manage to muster a broken, “Thank you,” before turning on my heel and heading out.
At the end of the hall, with dogs barking and some chickens crowing from somewhere inside the busy office, my eyes land on the community bulletin board near the front doors.
I’ve walked past that bulletin board a hundred times.
Top left is a blue flyer from 2013 about Sable Sky High Sober Grab Night.
Below that, off-kilter and somehow staying on the board with one bent pushpin, is a yellow piece of paper.
The words have long been sun-bleached, but it remains.
The last flyer in the bottom right corner is for the biannual spay and neuter clinic held in the Feed ’n’ Seed parking lot.
I stop short in the hall, a sudden thumping behind my ribs that has me tugging my hat off my head, holding it to my chest.
There’s a new flyer.
It’s white, with the image of a man breaking in a bronc, front and center.
Next to it, another photo, a young rider on a bull, spine curved backward, eyes wide, the animal angry and airborne.
A burning sensation floods my spine, and the back of my neck suddenly aches as I narrow my eyes on the bold, blue words scrawled over the images.
SABLE SKY RODEO CHAMPIONSHIP RETURNS!
B.R.A.A. SANCTIONED brONCO & BULL RIDING
JULY 3rd, 8th, 14th
GRAND PRIZES (TWO): $150,000 for TOP brONC & BULL RIDER
There’s a lot more information on the flyer: ticket prices, colt auction information, Jasper Jeweler’s and the Feed ’n’ Seed logos listed as sponsors, and a litany of other prizes listed.
Sweat beads along my brow, and heat halos the collar of my shirt. The last time there was a rodeo here in Sable Sky, I limped to that announcer’s booth and collected my trophy.
I received that winner’s check.
It was the head start we’d been hoping for, the thing that made putting me through pain and risking my long-term body health so we could add to the ranch and ranch house worth it.
Three days after I’d won, and two weeks after Sadie’s birth, Amelia found that lump. A tiny lump, not much bigger than a pea. Not even one full centimeter, in fact.
But that lump took everything from us.
Experimental trials and treatments, endless hospital bills for testing, small surgeries, prescriptions—in a matter of just over one month, the winnings, smaller then, were gone, and so were the rest of our meager savings.
And I spent a lot more money that I didn’t have.
I didn’t care about the money. I’d spend every penny the very same way if I had to do it all over again.
My eyes burn the longer they trace out those numbers.
$150,000.
That money would fix a lot of my pressing problems. I roll my neck and listen to the many creaks and pops that come from such a simple movement.
My gaze veers from the amount to the image of the young man on the bronc again, bypassing the bull rider entirely.
He’s young. Likely late twenties, maybe just turned thirty.
At thirty-eight, I can’t fathom climbing back up onto a bronc and riding for eight seconds.
Rodeo years aren’t like regular years.
For every year you’re under those glowing arena lights, immersed in chanting and cheers, the smell of dirt, sweat, and blood clogging your senses—that’s like five normal years.
The way bronc and bull riding take a toll on your body is hard to wrap your mind around, really, but at my age, it takes me thirty minutes in the morning to stretch my old, sore, damaged body before I can even get out of bed.
It’s taken years off my life, of that I have no doubt.
“So you saw,” Elena says, startling me as her hand curves my shoulder, giving me a small, friendly squeeze.
I adjust my hat on my head and nod. “Yeah, I hadn’t heard that the rodeo was comin’ back to Sable Sky.
” I stare at the flyer again, a wave of nausea rolling through me, making me swallow the sudden rush of saliva in my mouth.
I don’t know why I didn’t anticipate this moment.
Of course Sable Sky would host the rodeo again.
She shrugs. “The rodeo grounds in California, over in Oakdale where they normally have it,” she starts, but pauses, smiling. “Well, obviously you know all about the rodeo grounds there.”
After I lost Amelia, I stopped keeping up with what was happening in the rodeo world.
I stopped keeping up with anything, other than Sadie and the ranch, in fact.
I shrug. “Yeah, I was out there seven, maybe eight seasons ago.” Everything in my chest clenches tight, like a man’s fist when he sees his enemy, and my breathing immediately picks up, sweat hot and slick on my back.
Elena chews her bottom lip for a moment. “Well, they had a fire and it’s been a few years since it was here…” She trails off, knowing full well that I’m aware.
They moved it away from Sable Sky because of me. Because of my loss.
With the rolled-down bag of pills in my hand, I tip my hat at Elena, thank her again, and make my way out of the building, into the parking lot. Tipping my face to the sky, I suck down a few big breaths of fresh air, feeling the anxiety subside.
I’m too old to ride. I’m all Sadie’s got left, I can’t risk my health or my body.
I shift the truck into drive, heading over to Sadie’s school to pick her up from her half day. No sooner do I have the truck in park when I spot those two little messy braids, those rosy cheeks, and that smile with missing teeth.
“Daddy!” she hollers as she slams into my chest the moment my boots hit the ground. Her little hands grab at my shoulders as she tries to claim me in a full-body hug. She smells like pencils and bologna, and it’s my favorite smell in the whole wide world.
“How was school today, sugar?” I greet, pressing a kiss to her forehead before she places her boot on my knee, boosting herself into the passenger seat. She clips in once I’m behind the wheel.
“Fine. But who can care about school! Today’s the day Miss Love is taking me and Petunia to the wishin’ well! She said we can take Snickerdoodle out there if it’s all right with you.”
She blinks at me with eyes widened by hope and excitement.
I’ll never see that look again if I lose Vaughn Ranch.
I stare down at my daughter for maybe too long, because she stomps her little boot, whining, “Daddy, are you listening to me? Can Miss Love take Snickerdoodle out today? Please, Daddy?”
This little girl loves our land, loves the life that Amelia and I built, though her mama isn’t around to love it, too.
I have to enter that rodeo. And I have to win.
For my girl.