15. Chapter Fifteen
“You should invite Megan to Asher’s rodeo,” Gemma’s says casually. She and Hazel are standing at the kitchen counter making hand pies for breakfast, and I’m sitting at the kitchen table, stirring my coffee and trying to hide the tightness forming in my chest.
“Uh, Megan’s got... a thing. I think.” My lie is about as smooth as sandpaper, but at least it goes off without a hitch.
“Okay. Well, what about Rose?”
“That’s Grandpa’s friend from the apple orchard. She’s really pretty,” Hazel says.
“Oh, you think so, huh? Well, maybe he should give her a call then.” Gemma winks at Hazel, and I feel like I’m under attack.
“Alright, alright, I’ll call her.”
I reach for my phone on the table and scoop it up on my way out to the front porch, but things aren’t much better outside. My palms are sweating worse than a politician hooked up to a lie detector machine when I scroll my phone for her number, and I wouldn’t be surprised if she has my number blocked by now.
Please pick up.
Please pick up.
Please pick up.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Rose, it’s Henry. Got a minute?”
“Oh… yeah. Hey, Henry. What’s up?”
Her voice sounds hesitant, but maybe that’s just me being paranoid.
“So, uh, Asher’s got a rodeo in Lovington this weekend, and Gemma, Hazel, and I are planning on driving up for the day on Sunday. If you weren’t too busy, I was wondering if you’d like to come check it out.” I lean against the railing around the porch and brace myself for her answer.
“Oh, I don’t know, Henry. That sounds fun, but—“
“Look,” I protest. “I know I messed up big time, but I’d like to make it up to you if you’ll let me.”
When she doesn’t object, I take her silence as an open invitation to close the deal.
“Your life is complicated right now. I get it. You’ve got your hands full enough with Jace and your business, and I want you to know I’ll support you no matter what you decide. But let me help you take your mind off things in the meantime. I promise I won’t try anything. I only want what’s best for you.”
Rose lets out a long sigh. “Fine. I’ll go, but I’m taking my own car. What time did you say it was?”
“The rodeo starts at six, but we’re meeting around noon for the Lea County Fair.”
“I might be running a little behind, but I’ll plan on being there.”
“Great! I’ll touch base with you before we hit the road. See you on Sunday, Rose.”
“See you, Henry.”
***
Sunday arrives faster than a calf coming out of a chute, and here we are, standing at the entrance of the rodeo grounds, with the smell of sawdust and popcorn heavy in the air.
“I wanna see!” Hazel stands on the tips of her toes, trying to see the bulls on the other side of the fence being hauled into the back of the Coliseum, and I lift her onto my hip.
Rose, on the other hand, doesn’t look so excited.
“You okay there, Rose? You look nervous.”
Rose turns to face me with an uneasy look. “You know how uncomfortable I get when they start bucking.”
“Get out of town,” I chuckle. “You mean after all these years, you’re still more worried about the safety of a two-thousand-pound animal than you are the cowboy riding it?”
“No one’s forcing them to ride.”
For a minute, I regret stirring the pot, especially after Rose had reservations about coming here in the first place. It’s my own fault for not knowing when to shut my big mouth. But underneath the fire in her eyes, a spark of something new makes me think this might be her way of flirting with me. It’s a more rampant side of Rose I’ve never seen before, and I think I like it.
“It’s okay, Rose. The ropes don’t hurt ’em one bit. My daddy says so.” Hazel chimes in.
“She’s right, you know,” I add. “Those are just flank straps. As long as they’re put on right, those bulls won’t feel any kind of pain. Maybe a little irritation, but nothing that would cause any harm. It’s like being tickled, that’s all.”
She shoots me another glare that I feel all the way down in my feet. “Maybe not physical pain. Tickling is for sadists, Henry. It’s the emotional harm I worry about.”
“What’s emotional harm?” Hazel asks.
“It just means the bulls can get scared.” Rose reaches up and gives a light tug on Hazel’s ponytail. “Bet you wouldn’t like it too much if someone did that to you, would you?”
Hazel looks at Rose, then back in the direction of the arena. “I don’t like being scared.”
I interrupt the conversation before Rose starts teaching Hazel about animal rights protesting. “Whoa, alright… I think I see Gemma up in the stands. What do you say we grab our seats, and I’ll hunt us down a big bag of kettle corn?”
“Yes, yes, yes!” Hazel squeals in my ear and bounces on my hip like I’m her own personal trampoline. What I wouldn’t give to be that young and carefree again.
When the announcer’s voice booms over the loudspeaker, the crowd erupts as the bull riding event kicks off with its first rider. I steal a glance at Rose beside me and notice her hands gripping the bleachers so tight her knuckles are white.
“Relax,” I say, leaning in close enough to smell the sweet scent of her hair. “He’s tougher than he looks.”
She offers me a tight smile but doesn’t let go of the rail in front of her. “I know, I know. It’s just—look at him buck. He’s got to be miserable out there with everyone watching.”
“Or maybe he’s just excited to show off his moves,” I suggest lightly, hoping to ease her worry. The buzzer sounds before the clock makes it to eight seconds, and when the rider gets tossed, Rose’s laugh is like music to my ears.
“Maybe,” she concedes.
Her eyes stay glued to the arena during the next few riders, but something shifts in her when Asher enters the chute. Her shoulders drop, and her grip loosens as she leans forward.
“That’s Asher!” Gemma says, pointing in his direction. We all cheer, but no one as loudly as Rose, who seems momentarily swept up in the collective excitement.
The chute flies open at the sound of the air horn, and Gemma is the first to start cheering. “Come on, Baby! You got this!”
Hazel’s voice is the next in line. “Go, Dad, go!”
I follow suit by letting out a long string of whistles and clapping my hands above my head. “Let’s go, Ash!”
Rose surprises me by cheering, as well. Only, it’s clear Asher’s not the one she’s rooting for. “Come on, Renegade! No mercy! Show them who’s boss!”
Asher’s holding on tight with perfect form, and the crowd goes wild until the buzzer blares, signaling the end of his eight seconds. Much to our relief, his dismount is smooth, and he raises his hat to the crowd as he jogs out of the arena.
We watch anxiously while the judges tally the results, and Asher’s score appears on screen. “Eight-seven,” I say, giving Rose a playful nudge. “Looks like your boy, Renegade, pulled through for us after all.”
“I still think he could’ve gone a little harder,” she quips. It could just be from the heat of the sun, but her cheeks are flushed, and a part of me wonders how much is from excitement.
Our eyes lock until Gemma’s voice cuts through the tension. “Asher says we’ve got an hour before the awards ceremony. He wants The Pork Pit for dinner. Are you okay with BBQ, Rose?”
Rose looks up at me, then back at Gemma, and shrugs. “Sounds great.”
The sweet and smoky aroma wafting through the air is enough to make my mouth water after fighting the crowd on our way to the barbeque tent. After finding Asher and ordering, we settle at a picnic table with sticky ribs piled high on paper plates and dig in while he talks horse statistics with Gemma.
“Remember that old chestnut mare, Betsy? She could outrun any horse on the ranch,” I reminisce between bites.
“Is that the one with the white blaze on her forehead?” Gemma asks, licking her fingers clean.
“Yep, that’s her. Won us more ribbons than I can count,” I say proudly.
“And don’t forget Midnight. Dad called him The Gentle Giant. Wasn’t that the first horse you ever rode, Rose?”
Rose smiles and nods. “I guess if riding is what you want to call it. We had to have been in the first grade. He never seemed to mind letting me climb up on him, though.”
“Guess animals have a soft spot for you.” I wink at Rose, and while it only earns an eye roll from her, it’s enough to warrant a laugh from Hazel. Or so I think.
“Grandpa Henry, you have sauce in your beard.”
“Oh, is that right?” I reach for a napkin and give a good once over. “Did I get it?”
“No!” Her laughing becomes something that resembles volcanic eruption as she shakes her head.
“Here, let me,” Rose says, unwrapping a wet wipe and leaning over. Her touch is gentle on my cheek, and everything but her fades away momentarily.
“Thanks,” I say, suddenly aware of how close we are and how much I enjoy it. But I shove that thought down deep. Today should be about time with family and a close friend, not my complicated feelings for Rose.
“Anytime,” she replies softly, then turns her attention back to her plate, leaving me to wrestle with a growing warmth in my chest that feels suspiciously like hope.
“Alright, everyone.” Asher’s voice pulls us back to the present. “I better go spruce up for the ceremony.”
“Go get ’em, Cowboy!” Gemma cheers and plants a kiss on his cheek before he heads off.
“Rose, can you take me to the bathroom?” Hazel reaches up and tugs at Rose’s sleeve, eyes wide, with an urgency that only a seven-year-old who drank too much lemonade can muster.
Rose glances up at Gemma, who nods in approval. “Make sure she washes her face and hands while she’s in there.”
“I think we can handle that,” Rose says with a smile. “We’ll be right back.” Rose stands and cleans Hazel’s hand with another wet wipe before taking it and leading her through the crowd.
No sooner are they out of sight than Gemma’s sharp green eyes are on me. “Okay, Dad, spill the tea. What’s going on with you and Rose?”
“Going on?” I try for a confused look, but I can’t help but feel like I’m sitting in the hot seat with Gemma’s interrogation light blinding me.
“Come on, Dad. It’s so obvious. I see the way you look at her.”
I shuffle my boots on the gravel, a poor attempt to dodge Gemma’s piercing gaze. “Gemma, there’s nothing—“
“Really?” She arches an eyebrow, arms folded across her chest like she’s ready to wrangle the truth out of me once and for all.
“Cross my heart.” But even as the words tumble out, they feel empty.
“Uh-huh.” Her expression softens, and she reaches over, giving my hand a squeeze that somehow says, ‘I’m onto you’ and ‘It’s okay’ all at once.
“Okay, fine.” I heave a sigh, along with any fight to keep up the charade. “I might... well, I do have feelings for Rose. But it’s complicated.”
“Well, duh! She’s a married woman, for crying out loud. Does she even know?”
I look down and scratch the back of my head, feeling uncomfortably hot all of a sudden. “Yes?”
“Dad, what did you do?”
“I might’ve kissed her,” I say under my breath.
“You didn’t! When!?”
“It was on our way back from the reunion. But I told you, Gemma, things are complicated. Things weren’t going well for her in Dallas, and that’s why she’s here. But it’s not my place to go around blabbing the details of her personal life.”
“Do you love her?”
I don’t answer, and she nods slowly as if understanding.
“Listen, Dad. I won’t say a word to Rose or anyone else. But you deserve to be happy. And if she makes you happy...”
“Thanks, Gem.” Relief washes over me, knowing I can trust her and she’s on my side.
“Any time, old man.” She smiles and stands to brush off her jeans. “Just remember, I’m rooting for you, Dad. Always.”
“Always,” I echo, feeling my heart swell with gratitude for the daughter who sees through me, the woman I’m falling for, and the second chance at love that might just be within reach.