Chapter Fourteen
Levi
A month to the day, Levi returned to the cabin after work to find Ford in the pasture, consoling Nova, because Tanoa—along with Lady—was gone.
Since Nova liked Ford almost as well as she liked Levi, he mounted the cabin steps and took a seat in Otto’s old chair so he could think about what it meant that Dana had come for her horses when she knew he wouldn’t be here.
Ford gave the forlorn blood bay a final pat, then vaulted the fence with one-handed ease. Levi had no idea how Ford managed to coax so much agility out of that giant frame. Thanks to a genetic predisposition passed down from those seafaring ancestors who’d vaulted from longboats on their way to maraud, more than likely.
Ford joined him on the porch. A bent willow chair creaked under his weight, sagging a little, but the sturdy weave held. “Dana’s father came for the horses this morning.”
“So I see.” Levi’s gaze swept the pen, empty except for the stallion.
She hadn’t come for them herself, meaning she’d been taking no chances.
Ford must have decided this was the right moment to break the vow of silence he’d observed over the past four weeks. “It’s pretty clear that Dana won’t change her mind,” he said. “We should talk about where things go from here once the six months are up, and now’s as good a time as any. I’ve got the night off. Dallas is going to give Hannah a hand at the brewery.”
Levi agreed. There’d be no better time than the present to hammer out details. He usually arrived home as Ford was leaving for work, and their paths rarely crossed for more than a few minutes a day. Plus, summer had shifted to fall, and winter would arrive fast on its heels. Then they’d have to move the horses inside, and that came with its own host of problems, since the horses couldn’t fend for themselves. Someone would have to be here, twenty-four seven, and Otto’s ranching setup was old school and labor intensive enough without the added complication of being off grid. It also left Ford with the lion’s share of the work, since he ran the day shift. With paying jobs to consider, a third set of hands would have been welcome.
Maybe Otto’s motives hadn’t been matchmaking. Maybe he’d seen an opportunity and simply been smart to include Dana. Maybe he really had left her what he would have left Tanner, as Ford assumed, knowing they’d need a third partner to do what he’d managed all by himself.
“Dana might not change her mind, but she’s still a third partner,” Levi said. “We should include her in this discussion, don’t you think?”
Ford’s blue-steeled, steady gaze asked him how stupid he was. “You sure she wants to be included in our discussions? Because based on her lack of communication with us the past month, my guess is no. Tate knows her better than I do, and she seems to think Dana wouldn’t be happy in Grand, surrounded by memories of Tanner.”
“Tate could be right.”
Ford pondered that. “Because they’re good memories of him or bad?”
If the time had come for the first discussion, it was past time for this one. Levi would never give up anything Dana had told him in private, but he could tell Ford what he believed.
“Dana’s memories of Tanner aren’t the real problem. She can’t move on with her life because the rodeo world won’t let her forget that she was once involved with one of its brightest stars.”
“Tanner?” Ford’s normally stony expression cracked. “Funny how people always seem so much better after they’re dead.” His tongue struggled with the word dead , a sure sign he wasn’t as stoic about it as he pretended. “He was good at his sport—don’t get me wrong—but talent is one thing. If Tate hadn’t kept his schedule organized for him, and he wasn’t so pretty to look at, he’d never have gotten as far as he did. He’d already started to lose interest. He’d saved up some money, and I know he spoke to Otto about buying in, but Otto knew better than to take him on as a business partner. Everything was always bright and shiny and perfect to him while it was new.”
Including Dana. The challenge all that perfection posed was what had drawn Tanner to her.
It drew Levi, too. But he liked the small, vulnerable chinks she revealed in unguarded moments, not the perfect face she put on for the crowds. There was so much more to her than what she allowed people to see. He pictured her in the motel room when she’d kicked him awake, with all that fiery rage over her helplessness directed at him.
“It’s because I can trust you.”
He finally understood the full extent of her meaning—she didn’t have to be perfect with him. She might want to believe it was because he didn’t matter to her, but it was because he mattered too much. And he’d stupidly handed her the perfect excuse as to why a relationship between them would never work.
He’d eliminate that obstacle right now.
“You and Tate wouldn’t object if she got involved with someone new?” he asked Ford.
Ford mulled the question over as if considering who he might have to kill. “I can’t see how it would be any of our business,” he said.
Which was better than the answer Levi had expected but wasn’t a straight yes or a no.
He decided to take his life in his hands. “What if the someone was me?”
Ford gave that question the same careful consideration as the first, which wasn’t terrifying at all. “I once asked Tanner how come you two weren’t as close anymore and he said because you had a thing for his girlfriend, but I didn’t pay too much attention,” he said. “Figured whatever gave him that idea would blow over once the shine wore off and he began to think with his head again.”
It hurt Levi to think that years of friendship had been damaged because of a situation he’d tried so hard to avoid. “I would never have acted on it.”
Ford nodded. “I know that. He did, too. And this is why men who can’t handle competition shouldn’t chase beautiful women.” He rubbed his thumb over his chin. The steel in his eyes hardened. “Smart men shouldn’t chase after them, either. You’re usually a smart guy. You sure it’s your head you’re thinking with?”
He hadn’t been. He was now. “I’m sure.”
“Then I’m fine with it,” Ford said, nodding again. “Thanks for asking, especially since I know you didn’t have to. I’ll make sure Tate is fine with it, too.”
He went to grab them each a beer from the icebox. He occasionally brought home new brews for Levi to try. Hannah produced more hits than misses, but there’d been a few they’d poured into the bushes.
As they sipped an IPA that showed promise, listening to the horses settle in for the night, Levi didn’t kid himself. He had more obstacles to overcome.
Dana had to sort out her feelings for Tanner. Leaving him on the same day he’d died had left her with no real sense of closure. Pregnancy and miscarriage had further complicated things. She’d had that added connection to him, and it would always remain, tying her sorrow and anger together in a tight little knot.
Ford’s observation that people who died too soon were usually remembered as better than the reality was spot-on. Dana, however, had the opposite problem where Tanner was concerned. She’d had no outlet for all the negative feelings about him, and those feelings had suffocated anything positive she’d once felt. Until she let go of the past, she had no room for the future.
That was the real challenge Levi faced.
*
Dana
Crackerjack had matured under her dad’s patient care, giving Dana a lot more confidence than she’d expected to have.
She walked the horse around the warm-up arena, getting him used to the noises and smells of unfamiliar animals and humans. This wasn’t his first race of the week, but the thirty thousand dollars on the line tonight meant the crowd was invested.
She wasn’t thinking about the prize money. They’d placed sixth out of ten in the first round, then fourth in the second, with two rounds to go. The arena record was 14.607. So far this week, Crackerjack’s best was 15.010. If she could get him under fifteen seconds, she’d be content.
Her dad, at the fence, waved her over. She was walking toward him when she saw another familiar face. Her heart forgot what it was doing and dropped to her feet, then bounced to her throat, where it lodged. What was Levi doing here with her father?
He looked good. Maybe a little tired around his lips and his eyes, but overall, his usual, easygoing, perfect self.
And he’d made a favorable impression on Sponge Bob. What a surprise.
A huge smile crinkled her dad’s eyes and cheeks. “This young man claims he’s a friend of yours. I told him all the good-looking boys tell me that and I’ll need you to confirm it.”
A friend.
She wasn’t so sure about that. She hadn’t heard from him in the month after she left, and she hadn’t heard from him in the week since her dad had picked up the horses, leading her to assume that he’d given up on her, as she’d intended.
Nevertheless, that he’d given up on her so easily stung and she wasn’t about to let on how glad she was to see him or how badly she’d missed him.
“Confirmed,” she said coolly. “I didn’t expect to see him here, though.” She sounded like a sullen teenager, which she’d never been, and her dad looked at her funny.
Levi let it roll off him. “I had business in town and saw your name on the posters.” He eyeballed her horse. “Crackerjack looks hot.”
Hot , meaning anxious, which wasn’t an observation she wanted to hear, or a discussion she wanted to have. And letting his presence get inside her head and question her choices, making her wonder why he was here, was painful and awkward and not at all what she needed right now.
“Crackerjack is fine. This is his third race of the week, so he knows the arena. If he’s hot, it’s because he’s ready to roll,” she said.
If anyone was hot, it was Sponge Bob. He checked Crackerjack over as if Levi’s assessment had more weight than his. Or hers. She leaned over the rail to kiss his cheek. “I’ve got to go.”
“Be careful,” her dad said.
“I’m always careful.”
She could handle her horse. She could crack those fifteen seconds, too. If Crackerjack continued to perform, they might make it to the Montana Pro Rodeo finals, a goal she’d thought out of their reach. She felt good about his performance. She couldn’t allow Levi to disrupt her focus.
She rode Crackerjack into the alleyway and waited for the signal for them to pass through the gate. Crackerjack shook his head, a sure sign he was eager, not anxious.
She was eager, too—not only to beat fifteen seconds, but to win this round and prove to Levi she was right to give up her share in Otto’s business and focus on her career. This was where she belonged.
The signal came and they shot forward.
The first barrel went well. On their approach to the second barrel, however, something was off. A movement in the crowd—maybe a noise. Whatever the reason, she’d lost her horse’s attention, which affected her attention, as well. They came around the barrel, but Dana gave the signal too late, and in an attempt to compensate for her mistake, Crackerjack’s hind quarters got under him. He went down on his haunches. Dana struggled to bring them both upright, shifting sideways in the saddle to help him readjust their balance, but Crackerjack’s shoulder hit the barrel. Pandemonium broke out after that. He fishtailed, body flailing, tipping Dana free from the saddle. He was already down so she didn’t have far to fall, except she landed hard on her left arm and heard the crack.
The cries from the crowd, and the way people surged to their feet as if possessed by one body, panicked Crackerjack further, and he struggled to stand. One hind hoof pinned Dana to the ground, crushing the breath from her lungs, then he was back on four feet and off for the alley before anyone in the arena could stop him.
Dana curled into a ball and struggled to breathe, her chest and arm, and really, every inch of her body, on fire.
Then her dad was with her, holding her head steady while she gagged into the dirt.
*
The ambulance ride was a blur. The attendants reassured her that while she’d broken some ribs, which was why it was so painful to breathe, her lungs hadn’t been punctured. The arm was broken too, but she’d already known that.
Drugs courtesy of the emergency room made everything okay, and when she woke up later on, the room was semi-dark and unfamiliar. Ugly green curtains were drawn. She had vague recollections of Levi holding her hair while she threw up in a trash can, her body riddled with pain, but that might have been a flashback to Bremner. She knew for certain her dad had been with her in the arena, so maybe that was where the confusion came in.
She tipped her head a little more to the side, peering past the IV bag hooked up to her good arm, and there was Levi, reading a book in a chair next to the window.
He snapped the book closed when he saw she was awake. The smile, his default expression, was nowhere in sight.
“Where’s my dad?” she asked, because she couldn’t lead with how happy she was to see him. He’d think that was the meds talking. Maybe it was.
“He and your mother went to find dinner, then they’re off to their motel to grab some sleep. I told them I’d sit with you and let them know when you’re awake.” He waggled his phone. “Done. They’ll pick you up in the morning. You’re here overnight for observation because of the ribs, but they aren’t going to cast your arm. It’s a clean break, so the doctor said a sling is enough.”
She asked the question she should have led with. “How’s Crackerjack?”
“Banged up. Excited. Your dad moved him to a private facility for the night in the hopes he’ll calm down enough to manage the four-hour drive to Billings tomorrow.”
Poor Crackerjack. She’d done this to him. He’d been fine until she saw Levi. Then, he’d picked up on her stress. She should have listened when Levi said he looked hot—the man studied animal aggression for a living. “It wasn’t his fault. The crowd was larger than normal tonight. I was worried about how he’d react, and he picked up on it.”
“Have you ever stopped to consider that the fault might be one hundred percent with him? That you were riding a horse that isn’t a winner—the same way you’ve ridden Lady the last two or three years, even though she isn’t in top condition?”
“You think I’m sabotaging myself? Why on earth would I do something like that?” She’d wanted to make it to finals ever since she was old enough to compete. It was her dream.
Levi tossed the book on the floor and leaned forward. A five o’clock shadow scuffed up his jaw and his eyes were reddened and tired. “You were already looking for a new horse because you knew Lady couldn’t compete for much longer. You could have sold Crackerjack years ago when you knew he was unreliable around crowds and unfit for major competition, but you kept him as your backup. You could have bought Tanoa two years ago and had her trained and ready to go. So yes, I do think you’re sabotaging yourself. My question is why. At first, I thought it was because of the fame. You don’t like the attention that comes with it. But after the last talk we had, I finally figured it out.”
She summoned her haughtiest Lady Dana manner. “Do tell.”
Levi had seen Lady Dana naked, however, and her haughtiness didn’t appear to faze him a bit. “Because you can’t handle not being in control. You can’t fix Crackerjack’s fear of crowds, Dana. He’s wired that way. Maybe he can overcome it. Maybe he can’t. Your dad says he handles better for men—so let a man ride him and see if they have better luck. There’s no shame in it. The same goes for the fight you had with Tanner. You can’t go back and fix the bad timing, and that drives you crazy, but what if you could go back? What would you change? Tanner’s the one who was at fault, and he deserved to be called out. And while riding Crackerjack when you were pregnant might have been ill-advised, lots of women ride into their third trimesters. You were healthy, believed you were in control of your horse, and you know what? Accidents happen.”
He didn’t know what he was talking about. She didn’t want to hear any more.
But he was just getting started. “You know what I really think, though? To the outside world, you look damned near perfect. You’ve created a whole public image around it. Tanner looked perfect to everyone, too, especially after he died. And the more perfect everyone saw him, the more perfect you had to be to live up to expectations. Except he wasn’t perfect, and you think you’re the only person who knows it, because all you can remember are his flaws.”
He pushed off his thighs, levering himself to his feet. “Here’s the deal, Dana. I love you, but you put too much pressure on yourself. It’s tiring to watch. You don’t have to be perfect. Nobody is. I think you’ve allowed people to believe you’re grieving for Tanner because it gives you an excuse if you fail. The same with riding horses that aren’t quite good enough to get you to finals. They’re excuses.” He reached for the door. “I also think you let people believe you’re grieving for him because you know you should be, but you won’t let yourself. Why don’t you call me when you’re ready to quit worrying about what other people think, and let yourself grieve for the Tanner you knew—the one who loved you, who wasn’t perfect, and who was so insecure, he did something stupid to try and keep you? If you can forgive him, and let him go, maybe then you and I stand a chance. But I can’t help you with it. It’s something you have to sort out on your own.”
Dana watched the door swing silently closed. She was so angry she thought her head might explode. How dare he presume to know how she felt?
She had no unfinished business with Tanner. They’d said all that was needed. She had no reason to grieve. And as for forgiveness? Maybe. In time. But she’d never forget.
The last thing she wanted or needed was another cowboy deciding he knew what was best for her.