41. Forty-One
Forty-One
Abi
July 4th – Hartwell Hills Rodeo
Okay…why was I nervous? Since Cash had moved to Alpine Ridge, I had been to plenty of rodeos, seen him ride in our arena numerous times yet here I was, sitting next to Kyla, my knees shaking as I watched the sheep dash across the dirt to open up the Hartwell Hills Rodeo.
“Will you chill?” Kyla leaned into me, her arms cradling her now swollen belly. “You’re acting like you’ve never been to a rodeo before.”
I forced my knee to stop, shooting my friend a glare.
“I’m telling you, it’s better when you’re down there so he can kiss you after.” She motioned her chin towards the chutes.
“He’s not there. He’s with Stet now.” I motioned towards the gate of kids lined up for mutton busting. Spotting Cash was easy enough; he was the only one wearing a white cowboy hat. He turned to Rhett, who stood behind him, and laughed, his smile brightening up the entire arena. My heart fell to my stomach. I love him.
“Saddle bronc riders are first…and isn’t—”
“Yes, I know.” I interrupted her.
“So, my suggestion is get your ass down there and be there when he’s done.”
I shook my head. “I want to watch from here.”
“You’ll go crazy.” She sang ’crazy’ almost to say, ‘trust me.’
Shaking my head harder, I looked at Kyla. Last year I was down with Stet, trying to calm a different kind of nerve as he got ready to hold on for dear life. This year I was forcing myself to stay seated and enjoy the show—but my mind and body weren’t having it. I turned my attention back to Cash and Rhett, Cash patting his shoulder briefly before turning back to my son. He said something to him, Stet nodded enthusiastically, and then Cash kissed the top of Stet’s helmet and left them there.
I watched as the white cowboy hat moved through the crowd, getting a glimpse of his chaps as he pulled on his gloves, making his way to the chutes. This rodeo was his return to saddle bronc, and he was probably just as nervous as I was. He had trained hard for this in between training his clients, his own physical therapy sessions, and acupuncture appointments, not to mention becoming the man of the main house. His life changed in more ways than one, and tonight he told me it was his way of putting everything that had happened behind him. Even though he’d been with us for months, this night was the start of his new life.
“I don’t plan on going big. No more huge rodeos, but I’ll ride when I want to, and watch when I want to,” he had told me this morning over breakfast. “I may be ‘coming back’ but I still want my life here.”
He kissed me then, slow and deep. A promise to give me the life we both wanted.
I swallowed, closing my eyes to remind myself to take in the moment. I’d support him, and we’d watch the fireworks together. I didn’t need to be down there like Kyla said; I needed to watch him shine from here.
“Mutton. Bustin’.” My twin’s voice radiating through the arena forced me to open my eyes. “Those kids gave it their all. Looks like first place goes to—”
“Excuse me, I need to talk to my girl.” I heard Cash’s voice right next to me, causing me to jolt to the side, almost smacking him in the face.
“You should be down there.” I leaned back into Kyla, pointing at the chutes, shock in my voice, but the excitement that gleamed in his eyes distracted me.
“Nah, I have time. Your brother has to do the Anthem, the prayer and then the flag girls. Come here.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me from my seat, giving me a wink as we left the stands.
I gave Kyla a look, not really wanting to be saved from my boyfriend, but not wanting him to be late for his ride. “Cash, you need to be getting ready.”
In one motion he swung our arms, pinning me to the back of the metal seats.
“I’m not ready until I kiss you.”
I looked at him, his eyes heavy as he searched me. His white hat perched on his head, a thin sheen of sweat already on his tawny skin, a dark blue button up shirt, covered by his vest. His Wrangler jeans that hugged him in all the right areas, and his new chaps he had made specifically for tonight. White leather, with gold and blue accents, blue fringe hanging off the sides. But the best part, a blue A and an S sat on his left leg, right above where I knew his scar sat. An A for Abi…an S for Stetson. My heart melted just looking at it. This man was glorious. And he was mine. And right now, he needed a kiss.
I leaned in, closing the distance between us with a kiss. He drank me in, his hands gripping my waist as his tongue explored. We had kissed so many times since finding each other, and each one was different. No kiss was the same, and we loved to find new ways to make each other weak.
“Now I’m ready,” he murmured, kissing the tip of my nose.
“You’re supposed to kiss me after you ride.” I said breathlessly, the feel of his lips was still on mine, my eyes still closed, hoping he would take it as a sign to kiss me again.
“Nah, that’s Rhett’s thing.” He chuckled. “What have I been doing before every training session, before every ride I do?
I blushed at the memories, “A kiss.”
“For luck.” He smiled, kissing me again. “That’s more important than a celebratory kiss.”
The roar of the crowd brought me back to life. In the time we had been here, Wyatt had led the Anthem, introduced the sponsors and said a starting prayer. Now, it was time for the saddle bronc riders. I caught Cash’s eye. Damn, that was a hell of a kiss.
“You need to get out there.”
“I do.”
“Go, eight seconds.”
Giving me one final kiss, he nodded. “Eight seconds.” Then he was gone, running off to the chutes.
With heat in my blood, I returned to my seat, finding it occupied by my son, holding a small trophy. My heart swelled as I pulled him closer to me.
“I was worried you were going to miss Cash.”
“Never.” I tapped the brim of his hat. “Second place. Not bad, little man.”
He beamed, holding his small little trophy with pride. “Not bad for my last ride.”
We celebrated Stetson’s eighth birthday a few months ago and he had officially met the age limit for mutton busting. Now he was ready to move on to bigger livestock sports. As much as my stomach still twisted, he was determined to follow in his dads—and now Cash’s—footsteps.
“Look.” My dad, who had returned from his trip with my mother in Europe for the rodeo, caught everyone’s attention. Even the people sitting next to him. “There he is.” He pointed to the chutes. My eyes followed, and I saw Cash lower himself onto the horse.
“Do y’all remember a few years back, a huge saddle bronc name had an early retirement,” Wyatt’s voice boomed over the speaker, “and he all but disappeared from the scene? He went on a different road than most, taking on clients and training barrel racers. In fact, he trained the one and only Quinn Compton who we will see later. But tonight is about his return, his comeback to the sport he loves more than my own sister.”
I laughed, loving that Wyatt and Cash’s relationship was mending itself. Painting the stables and hanging the sign together really forced them to accept each other.
“And back on a horse that loves to buck…I present to you…the one and only…Cash Callahan.” Wyatt rang out his name as the crowd cheered.
I didn’t notice Cash nod, I just noticed the chute fly open and the horse jump out. Cash’s arm was raised high in the air, his chin low, his body moving in motion with the horse. And that horse moved. One…two…three….four. Cash’s arm swung back and forth; his hat flew off his head. The horse tilted to the side, all four legs off the ground. Five…six…seven…The buzzer sounded and Cash pulled his body tight, reaching for the synch to bring the horse into a gallop—the smile on his face only showing how much he loved the ride.
I shot up from my seat, hearing Kyla mutter something like, “Told you, you would want to be down there.” I bolted down the metal stairs to the fence. I watched as the pickup men grabbed Cash, pulling him from the saddle and dropping him to the ground. His face winced slightly, telling me the pain was still there, but the thrill was stronger.
“He still has it folks! Cash Callahan pulling in an eighty-nine to start the night!”
The crowd cheered as Cash threw up his arms. Giving them one last wave, hyping up the crowd even more than they already were, he raced to grab his hat. Stepping up on the gate, I leaned forward, hoping to catch his eye before he left the dirt to let the other riders go, but he didn’t notice me. Instead, he waved his hat in the air and went back to the chutes. He would help the other riders, even riling up the calves for the ropers. He would watch the barrel racers with pride as Quinn showed every rider how it was done. The nerves in my stomach settled as I watched him, finally where he belonged.
After the rodeo, when the sun had set and the crowd dispersed to get the best seats for the fireworks, Cash, Stet, and I stood in the middle of the dirt. Cash’s arms around my shoulders, holding me close to him, my arms draped over Stetson, making sure he was pressed to me. The fireworks boomed overhead, the three of us watching in wonder as our life together truly began.