55. Indie
Three Months Later
“ Okay, so, what’s one thing you credit your success to?” I ask, my eyes on Tripp.
Tripp shifts. “Most people assume I’d say my dad or my grandpa, but that ain’t the truth of things.”
He glances at Ram and Beau where they sit on the couch beside him. I’m sitting on the fur rug in front of the coffee table, another stolen pen hovering over my paper. A recorder sits on the table between us, getting all the words I may be too slow to write.
“Then what is the truth?” I ask, smiling at him.
“My success comes from having my two best friends beside me on the circuit,” he says. “If not for Beau and Ram, I might have lost myself in a bottle a long time ago.”
My eyes crinkle. “And how long have you been sober?”
He shifts. “Three months and three days,” he admits. “And counting.”
Pride for him shines on all our faces. It hasn’t been an easy road. Hell, we’ve had to tackle him a few times when he’d gotten too close to tossing back a drink, but he’s done it mostly by himself. The cold reality of what he’d become weighed on him, and now, he’s determined to stay sober. He’s determined to live more fully in the moment.
“And will you be returning to the rodeo circuit for the rest of the season?” I ask.
“We’re going to rest the rest of this season,” Tripp says. “To let Beau heal from his injury.” He glances at Ram. “Next year, we’ll return, but it’s not for my benefit. Ram deserves to be inducted, and I’m going to make sure he gets there.”
I nod. “Is there anything you’d like to tell young bull riders who may be thinking about following in your footsteps?”
He sits back, his arms crossing over his chest, as he thinks about my question. “Don’t let anyone tell you it can’t be done, and don’t let anyone stop you if it’s really something you wanna do. Most importantly, keep your relationships close, whether friends or loved ones. You’re gonna need that connection on the road during long drives and hard rides. They’re the reason you keep goin’.”
I hit stop on the recorder and smile. “All done,” I declare. “I got questions from all three of you and I think that’s plenty.”
“This gonna be in the first newspaper?” Ram asks, leaning forward, pride on his face.
“This?” I shake my head. “Oh, no. It’s already written.” I pull out the newspaper from under the table and hand it to him with a grin. “The interview will come later whenever you three are ready for it to. But you do look nice on the front page regardless.”
It’s a small tabloid, at least for now. The Steele Gazette is the newest town newspaper, revived by me. There’s been a need, and now that I’m no longer working for Saddle & Spur, what better place to work than for myself. The small print run is already set to be successful judging from the requests I’ve gotten. And there seems to be plenty of news in the Green River Basin. On top of that, I can write what I want. No one tells me what is more important or not. I get to run it exactly how it should be.
Unbiased and completely open.
But the world, and most certainly Steele, isn’t ready to hear the truth about the Savage legacy. While there are other rising legends from this town, the Savages have played a major part in things. If they were to find out just yet that the legacy is tainted, it could dull their shine. And I’ll do everything I can to save this small town.
After all, it’s home now.
“Grit, Glory, and Giggles,” Ram reads out loud. “How Rodeo’s Untouchable Trio Live On. Damn, we do look good, don’t we?”
“Hell yeah, we do,” Beau nods. He’s mostly healed by now, but every now and then when he’s working on stretches, I notice him cringe. Eventually, things will get better, but he has plenty of time. “Maybe next time we can take sexy photos. I do look so good in lace.”
I laugh and watch as they flip through my first newspaper, as they take in the full scope of what I’d done. I can’t exactly afford an editor and a photographer just yet, so it’s all up to me until we grow bigger. But for now, I have a tiny office in downtown Steele, and I have a business.
“Wanna come deliver the first stack with me to the park?” I ask, my eyes crinkling.
“Of course,” Ram says, helping me stand.
Together, we drive to the park in downtown Steele, to those same empty stands.
“You do the honors,” Tripp says, handing me the first stack.
I take a deep breath and drop them inside, admiring the way they look in the old stand. I’ll have to give them a paint job, dress them up, but that’s a job for another day.
The headline stands out stark against the newsprint, big and bold. Just like the three men around me.
“The Steele Gazette,” I breathe. “By Indie Chen.”
I grin, and with all their arms wrapped around me. . .
. . .I finally put down my roots for good.