20. Rodeo
Rodeo
Willa
I t has been two weeks since Nash walked out of my cabin. I won’t say my life because he still makes his presence known. Nash texts me every morning, afternoon, and at bedtime. Though it took several days for me to be in a place to respond back, I finally broke down and did. Now we chat through text like the beginning, getting to know each other a little more.
With this, he has started to open up. He sends me daily emails including snippets of his life. Childhood memories that we seemed to have shared along with memories of his life. It only took me a few emails to realize they are being sent in chronological order. I believe it is only time until I receive one about his time in the army. At least I hope so because that would mean he really is opening up in a deeper sense. That he is allowing himself to be vulnerable. Dealing with his demons that I know in my heart are brought on by his whole conscience and not because he is actually responsible for what happened in that damn country, years ago.
Pa had filled me in on what had happened overseas with the mission. He saw me broken, and I could tell it was breaking my hard-ass of a dad, when he pulled me into a bear hug, and all I could do was cry, “Oh, Pa, I miss him,” as I snotted and cried all over his overalls as he held me, trying to calm his little girl through the storm, that he is not sure how to handle. One thing, if it would be one of the few guys that have been around; I would receive the lecture of cowgirls don’t cry, Willa. He ain’t worth the dirt under your feet.
Or if it was Brooks when I only cried in pain, not because I felt emotionally splintered. Pa wanted to kill him, and the only time in my entire life that it was okay to cry. I remember just looking at him in bewilderment, blinking my eyes, trying to force tears out. I thought it would make him believe I was less fragile if I let some tears out, instead of the silence that had dragged on for days after the attack.
Knowing the history of Nash and me, seems to have his thoughts in knots. A week after my hostile takeover I kept unleashing at the ranch– at least I kept most of my shit together at school– Pa sat me down to fill in the gaps of the mysterious Nash.
Now it's Wednesday, and I am with Tilly and Amity. We are loaded up with Ringo and Tilly’s horse, Ace, heading to Fort Worth for the rodeo. We are borrowing a badass truck and horse trailer with sleeping quarters for the weekend that Amity said she borrowed from an unnamed friend. I am just too excited to even pry her for more information.
Just thankful for the nice ride and sleeping accommodations for the rest of the week. With Amity driving, I am able to study the competition and get in the event headspace I need. It has also been ruled it is a no guy, no Nash weekend. No one is allowed to ask about us or him. I have been pretty hush about what has been going on with us. They just know we are taking time to figure out ourselves and not really together at the moment.
Four hours later, we finally made it to the arena and checked in. I take Ringo in to walk him around the arena to help him get his bearings. We start with roping tomorrow and qualify for timed trials. It has already been a long day so I know we are all going to crash hard later this evening. Luckily for us, our trailer is close to the holding area for the horses. I have Ringo as close to the end and on the outside as I could get it. So looking out the trailer window, I can at least see him and definitely hear him when he has lots to say to the fellow horses surrounding him.
The girls and I close out the evening catching up with fellow riders, throwing back a few beers and reminiscing of old times and catching up on the new.
* * *
NASH
It is midday on Thursday, and I have Blake feeding me all the information on Willa. Since Paramour, he and Amity have been taken with each other, so much so he let her borrow his brand new truck, that I am not entirely sure he did not purchase to impress the cowgirl herself, and rented a state of the art horse trailer for them to borrow under the radar. Not only did he do it because he is trying to impress the girl, but to ensure Willa’s safety and spoil her a bit since I am not allowed to. We only talk through texts, and she never responds to any message about feelings.
Blake is fully aware of what has been going on with Willa and me. With this knowledge, he has literally been in my office since seven this morning giving me the play by play of the day from Amity. I owe them both a nice luxurious weekend away. According to Amity, Willa and Ringo have been kicking ass all morning in team roping and sitting and holding at number three with qualifying.
By two in the afternoon, Willa and Tilly were first in team roping, Willa was sitting second in calf roping and was pushed back to fourth in qualifying for barrel racing. Of course, we have been watching the videos Amity has been sending, and I cannot believe what a savage my girl is when she enters the arena. Every inch of me wants to hold her and be there with her, but I am respecting the boundaries she has laid out. Plus, I know she does not need the added distraction of my presence there.
Clint pointed out that she will probably be pissed when she finds out Amity is spoon feeding me information. In my defense, Amity is one of her best friends. I could have easily sent Grant to spy on her. I continue to click through emails as Blake walks out to take a call, and Clint strolls back in.
“Hey, Bro.”
“Hey. Need something?”
“Yeah. You thought anymore about what Dad said at dinner that night?”
“No. Not really. My priority right now is not to piss her off again and get her back. Dad has a great idea, but I made promises, and right now, I just need everyone to respect that while I take time to figure it out.”
“I get it, man. I really do. Well those guys are in Montana right now and will be heading this way in a month. Just giving you a timeline because that is my job.”
“I know.”
“Are you two even truly not together?”
“I don't even know. I have not heard her voice in about two weeks. She answers my texts, and I know she is reading my emails. I have been going to the Veteran PTSD meetings three times a week, and I really think they have been helping and just knowing I am not alone in this. So many other men and women are going through similar shit.” Looking down at Fletcher at my feet, I murmur, “I would say he has enjoyed the reprieve from my nightmares lessening, but he has to deal with my daily angst over Willa.” He looks up at me as soon as I say her name, letting me know he misses her too. Clint chuckles because he knows what a horrid mess I have been these past weeks around the office, to the point where everyone takes extra measures to stay out of my way.
Blake comes back in and takes a seat in the chair he has been in all day. He begins tapping his foot on the ground, so both Clint and I look over at him.
“What has your balls wound so tight?” Clint jokes.
“Nothing.” But as the pallor on his face turns white, I know not to believe him.
“Fuck, bro. What was that call about? Just say it.”
He takes a minute, looks down at his phone like he is debating a choice he thinks he has. Clint quickly reaches for the phone, grabbing it then looks at the screen. “Who is this?” Blake doesn’t answer, so Clint slides the phone across my desk. It is a grainy photo at best, but I can tell it is a guy standing next to a latched gate.
“Blake, who is this?”
“Amity sent me the pic. That guy is at the rodeo this weekend.”
“Don’t make me hold you down and waterboard your ass. Can you please speak like you have something to say?” I threaten because the longer I stare at this picture and soak in Blake’s words, goosebumps rise over my body as if a bucket of ice was thrown over me.
“Fuck, she might kill me, but you need to know. Amity called to chat, and she all the sudden seemed taken back, as she gasped. I asked her what was wrong, and she said Willa’s ex was there. Amity seemed genuinely scared on the phone, so I made her explain to me why an ex is such a big deal. I stayed on the phone with her while she told Willa. Willa said just to ignore him. Not pay any attention to him because he is not allowed near her anyways. That she could handle him if needed. Man, I am sorry. Surely that fucker wouldn’t try anything stupid in such a public setting, right?”
I feel the weight of Fletcher on my lap, there is a loud ringing in my ear as I clench my fists while only seeing red. I hear Clint tell Blake to get the jet ready for Fort Worth. I sense Clint behind me before I feel his hands on my shoulders, shaking me slightly to get me to tap back in. I do after what seems like forever, but not even a full minute.
“Bro, you are going to explain everything to me so I know how to clean up this mess once done, but we have a flight to catch first.”