Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
ABBI
“ M ommy!” Daisy’s giggling as she pulls her marshmallow out of the bonfire and shows it to me. “It’s on fire!”
“Blow it out,” I tell her. “Like birthday candles.”
She blows and blows on it, effectively extinguishing the fire, and we get to work building her s’more.
We spent all day out at the Wild River Ranch. There was branding and castration, vaccines, food, and a lot of hard work. The kids watched most of it from the sidelines, in between coming into the food tent for snacks and drinks.
I’ve never seen my daughter’s eyes so big as when she watched what happened inside that pen. Assured that she would be just fine with Holly and Johnny, I spent most of the day in the kitchen tent with some of the other women, cooking and making sure that the ones doing the hard work were taken care of.
So many people from neighboring ranches came to help, too. Erin said that that’s normal and that the Wilds return the favor for the neighbors, as well.
God, I love it here.
I take a long, deep breath, enjoying the way the bonfire smells and hearing everyone’s chatter around me. Brady’s having a conversation with Ryan and Remington, and every now and then, I can hear him laugh, and it settles me.
I always feel so much better when he’s nearby. I never thought I’d be the woman who depended on the presence of a man, but I never planned on meeting Brady Wild. It’s not that I can’t live without him; I know that I can do just fine for myself and Daisy on my own.
But with this man, I feel so much more at ease. As if I don’t have to be hyperaware of every single thing. I can relax a little, knowing that he will protect us, no matter what might come our way, and for the first time since I was twelve years old, I feel like I can breathe a sigh of relief.
I don’t ever want to lose that.
“What are you thinking so hard about?” Erin asks as she sits next to me. Daisy has run off to eat her treat with her best friends, and Erin takes my hand in hers and smiles over at me.
“I’m just…happy. Really, truly happy. And I sound sappy.”
“And you’re a poet.” She winks at me and leans in to rest her head on my shoulder as we watch the flames. “I’m happy, too. Who knew that we’d have to come to the middle of nowhere, to this beautiful place, to find where we belong?”
“Not me,” I admit and rest my cheek on the top of her head. “I’m in love with him.”
“Oh, I’ve known that for a while. Does he know?”
“Yeah. He knows.”
“Good. I’m really happy for you two. Also, if you end up getting married, we’ll be sisters, and that makes me the happiest woman in Montana.”
Married. Holy shit. “We haven’t talked about that.”
“You will. It’s just a matter of time. When these Wilds fall in love, they do it for life.” She pulls away so she can smile over at me, and then she sobers. “What’s wrong?”
“He leaves the day after tomorrow.”
Erin sighs. “I know. But just for a few days, right?”
“I guess so. I haven’t asked him much because I think I’ve been in denial that he’s leaving at all. And I knew that he was focused on getting through today so the ranch would be in a good place for him to go for a few days.”
“He’ll be fine. You know he will, Abbi.”
I nod, sure that she’s right.
“You’re here!” Our heads come up at Jake’s exclamation, and then we grin when we see him run over to Katie, who’s walking his way, a huge grin on her beautiful face. He wraps his arms around her and swings her around before planting a kiss on her.
“He’s so smitten with her,” Erin says as I chuckle. “It’s adorable.”
“I hope Ryan had the talk with him,” I reply, watching as Jake gets Katie set up with the makings for s’mores by the fire. She’s so beautiful in a simple pair of wide-leg jeans and a black V-neck T-shirt. Her long red hair is down around her shoulders, and Jake brushes it back so he can whisper in her ear, making her grin.
“I hope so, too,” Erin says with a laugh.
“I got everything closed up for the night,” Katie says to Polly, who’s sitting in a lounge chair nearby. Katie works for Polly at Polly’s dress shop, Pocket Full of Polly. “There weren’t any issues.”
“Thank you, Katie. Now, relax and have some fun.”
“This is fun,” Katie says, smiling at Jake. “Did I miss the sad parts? With the calves?”
“Yeah, we did all that earlier.”
“Good.” Katie shivers. “I don’t like that part.”
Erin and I grin at each other.
“Are you two telling secrets over here?” I look up and see that Brady and Remington are standing behind us. Jesus, even upside down they’re both movie-star gorgeous.
“All the secrets,” I confirm with a grin, and Brady leans down to kiss me.
“You taste like chocolate and marshmallows,” he says with a devastating grin. “Delicious.”
“I’m stealing my girl,” Rem says, taking Erin by the hand and pulling her to her feet. “Come on, Doc. Let’s roast some marshmallows.”
“Yes, sir, Grumpy.” Erin winks at me, and then they’re gone, and Brady joins me by the fire.
“What did you think of today?” he asks me, linking his fingers with mine.
“It was…a lot of things. Fun, interesting, a little disturbing sometimes when those poor babies cried.” I glare at him, making him smirk.
“Aww.” He kisses my temple. “Babe, you’re a softie.”
“I mean, you did a lot to them today, and they’re just babies.”
“They’ll be okay, and everything we did was to keep them healthy. No one wants a sick ranch, Blue Eyes.”
“No, I suppose not. I liked watching everyone work together. You can tell that you all have a routine down. A system. Like you’ve been working together for a long time.”
“We have,” he confirms. “We’ve done things this way since long before I was born.”
“I do have a question, though.”
“Shoot.” He wiggles some marshmallows onto a stick and rests them in the fire. “Are you wondering about my stellar roping skills?”
“I mean, that was impressive.” And it really was. The man has a way with a rope. “Also, sidebar, how are you with ropes in…other areas?”
His gaze whips to mine, his eyes narrow, and his voice is low as he leans in to whisper in my ear. “You want me to tie you up, babe?”
“Just asking a question. Your marshmallows are on fire.”
“That’s not all that’s on fire,” he mutters as he blows them out. “Ask your question before I haul you back to my cabin and fuck you, Abs.” His voice is still low, and he’s staring into the fire, but I can feel the lust coming off him in waves.
I swallow hard, my attention averted to way better things.
“ Abbi. ”
“Sorry.” I clear my throat and then giggle when he nudges me with his shoulder. “I see that there are a lot of neighboring ranches here.”
“Yep.”
“But no Lexingtons. They’re right next door, aren’t they?”
“They are,” he says, looking over his shoulder.
“Who are you looking for?”
“My dad. He doesn’t like that name to be spoken on his property. No, they aren’t here.”
“Why?”
“You’ve heard of the rivalry.”
“Yeah, I guess I didn’t realize that it was a Hatfield and McCoy situation.”
“Pretty much.”
I frown, blinking at him. “Did you kill each other in the Wild West days?”
“Sure.”
“Stop it. You did not.”
“Rumor has it that they did. These days, it’s been a bunch of lawsuits over property lines and moved fences. Bad attitudes, mostly from Old Man Lexington, who is a complete asshole. Neighbors help them out, and not because they feel any friendship or kinship to that old man, but because of the kids and the hands they have out there that need the help.”
“But no help from the Wilds.”
His eyes meet mine, glowing in the firelight. “No. Personally, I don’t have a beef with Holden or his sisters. Never have, although I know something happened between him and Millie.”
We both look over to where Millie’s sitting with the kids, laughing as they tell her stories.
“There’s something there,” I agree softly.
“Like I said, no beef on my part. But my dad is old-school and still remembers some of the shit that happened when he was a kid, and it wasn’t good.”
“Maybe, as generations pass, things will change.”
Brady shrugs and offers me a bite of his s’more.
“When do you leave, Brady?” Chase asks from just a little way away.
“Day after tomorrow,” Brady replies. Instinctively, he reaches for my hand and threads our fingers together. “I leave before dawn for the airport.”
Polly’s watching me with somber eyes, but I smile, putting on a brave face.
“He’s going to kick ass,” I add, squeezing his hand. “Hey, is it televised somewhere that I can watch it?”
Brady’s gaze whips down to mine, his eyes fierce, and I know that I’ve asked the wrong thing.
“You can not watch.” His voice is almost desperate, full of panic. “Absolutely fucking not .”
“I know you don’t want anyone there in person, but?—”
“It’s his thing,” Remington says with a shrug. “No watching, even on TV. We can watch after, though.”
“There are all kinds of videos of his rides through the years on YouTube,” Ryan adds.
“Oh.” I blink up at Brady and see that he’s still breathing hard, and it breaks my heart that I made him panic. “Don’t worry. I won’t seek it out and watch it. But I might watch some rides on YouTube.”
He licks his lips and nods, then kisses my forehead. “Those we can watch together.”
“Tonight?”
He laughs and nods. “Sure. Whenever you want.”
I glance around, looking for my daughter, and find her huddled up with Holly, both of them with heavy eyes, watching the fire.
“I think Daisy should get home for a shower and bedtime.”
Brady nods, pops the last of his s’more into his mouth, and stands, guiding me to my feet, as well.
After saying our goodbyes, we get Daisy into my SUV and head for town. We’re not even on the highway when Daisy falls asleep in the back seat.
Brady’s quiet as we drive in the darkness, so I settle back against the seat and reflect on the day.
The more time I spend out on the ranch, the more I love it. The views of the mountains, so tall and proud, reaching up into the sky, are absolutely stunning. We have amazing views in town, too, but there’s something extra special out at the ranch. I know that today was damn hard work for everyone. Each and every person there had a job to do, even the kids, and no one sat idle. It was exhilarating. I loved the comradery and the sense of community, and that my daughter and I were a part of it, even if it was just a small part.
Daisy was enthralled. I could see on her face that she wanted to be in that ring, helping, wrangling calves, and doing what the cowboys do.
And maybe someday she will. My girl loves animals so much and has no fear of the horses.
Sometimes, that scares me. A little fear is healthy.
Before long, Brady pulls into my garage and lifts Daisy out of her booster seat and carries her inside.
“Baby girl,” I croon, brushing her hair off of her face. “You have to wake up, baby doll. You need a bath before bed.”
“Tomorrow,” she whimpers, but I shake my head.
“No deal. You’re too dirty to sleep like that. Come on, we can make it quick.” I glance up at Brady. “You can set her down. She needs to walk up the stairs and wake up a bit.”
Since our night in the cabin, Brady and I haven’t spent even one night apart. He stays here every night, and I feel a little guilty about that because he works so early at the ranch and has to leave before the sun even thinks about coming up so he can do his early chores and then train.
Honestly, it would be so much better if we lived at the ranch.
“Come on, baby. Quick shower. I’ll help you.”
I get Daisy stripped down and under the warm spray, and she just stands there like a zombie, so I get to work, scrubbing her down with a washcloth and then using the wand of the showerhead to spray the soap away.
I have to wash her long dark hair, as well, so I do, loving the way it feels in my fingers. She has such pretty hair.
When we’re done, I towel her dry and help her into clean pajamas and then comb out her wet hair and secure it in a braid. It’ll be nice and wavy tomorrow, and she’ll like that.
“Come on, my love.” I kiss her head and nudge her toward her bedroom, where Brady’s waiting with a book on standby. It’s become his nightly routine to read her a story or have her read with him before bed, and it melts my heart every time.
Tonight, though, he’s not on the bed, but sitting in a chair next to it, because he’s also filthy.
“You go get in the shower,” he says with a smile. “I’ve got this.”
“You’re the best .” I kiss his cheek, then Daisy’s, and head for my own shower.
I don’t remember the last time I was this dirty, and it kind of makes me laugh as I start the water and then get under the spray. Working at the ranch is hard, filthy work.
In less than fifteen minutes, after I’ve brushed out my own hair and put on my moisturizer, I pad over to Daisy’s room and find the light off and Brady gone.
So, I walk downstairs, and there he is, in the kitchen, pouring me a glass of wine.
“You should grab a shower now,” I say as I accept the glass from him. “You did the most work, and you’re last to shower. Doesn’t seem fair.”
“My girls get taken care of first,” he replies and kisses my lips softly. “Always. But I’ll go do that and meet you back here.”
“Deal.” I grin, watching him walk away. The man fills out those Ranchers perfectly. And it’s not lost on me that he has a bit of a limp and looks like he’s sore.
All of his injuries play through my mind. Of course, he’s sore. He has to ache more than he lets on, especially after a physically grueling day like today.
Hopefully, that hot shower feels good and helps soothe his poor body.
I grab a few ibuprofen and pour a couple fingers of whiskey and then settle on the couch with my computer.
Now that I know there are videos on YouTube, I can’t wait to watch them.
I go ahead and open the browser, search his name, and gasp at the hundreds of videos that pop up.
Brady Wild Wins Second World Championship.
Brady Wild: an Extensive Interview with the Montana Bull-Riding Legend.
Brady Wild: What’s Inside My Gear Bag?
Dave Fisby Talks to Brady Wild about His Near-Fatal Accident.
I swallow hard at that one.
A Look Into the Life of a Real Rodeo Cowboy: Brady Wild.
The list goes on and on. Interviews, a day in the life, and so many rides caught on film.
I could go down this rabbit hole for days and never see everything. But something at the bottom of the page catches my eye.
Death of Dirks Johnson, an Intimate Interview with Brady Wild.
Tears fill my eyes, and I can feel Brady move up behind me and lay his hand on my shoulder.
“Don’t watch that one tonight,” he says softly before leaning down to kiss the top of my head. “Not until after the season is over. Okay?”
“Okay.” I sip my wine and gaze up at him as he circles around the couch and sits next to me. “I have ibuprofen and whiskey for you. Which do you want first?”
“Both.” He pops the meds into his mouth and then swallows it down with the whiskey, making me cringe.
“I’m sure your body is grateful for that.”
“It is,” he says, laughing at my sarcasm. “I checked on Daisy. She’s snoring.”
I chuckle at that and reach up to push my fingers through his wet, dark hair. “She does that when she’s overly tired. How long into the story did she last?”
“Roughly half a page.” He grins down at me. His hazel eyes are heavy with fatigue.
“Do you get to sleep in tomorrow, or do you have to be at the ranch early?” I ask him.
“There aren’t many days off with ranch life,” he replies with a sigh. “Besides, I’ll be gone for a while, and the guys will have to pick up my slack, so I’ll be out there most of tomorrow, starting early.”
“I’m sorry.”
He scowls down at me. “Why the hell are you sorry?”
“Because you have to drive so far to get there every day. We’ll have to figure something else out. Although, I’m not kicking you out of my bed, so staying apart isn’t one of the options.”
“Good.” He settles me back against him, my back to his front, and kisses my hair. “Because that’s not an option for me, either. Now, what do you want to see?”
“I didn’t know that there would be so many ,” I admit.
“I’ve been doing this a long time. Fourteen years, professionally. So, yeah, there’s plenty to watch.”
“You won the world championship twice ?”
“Three times,” he says with pride.
“Where are all of your belt buckles and trophies?”
“In totes. I don’t have the space to display them. I keep a couple out to wear when I’m working, but otherwise, they’re just stored away.”
I tip my head so I can stare up at him. “These aren’t simple bowling trophies, Brady. This is a big deal. You should have those on display.”
“You’ve been to my cabin,” he reminds me. “Where do you propose I put them?”
I twist my lips and then turn back to the computer. “Someday, you’ll show them off. Now, where should we start?”
“Do you want to see me ride?”
“Hell, yes. I want to see you ride.”
He pages back up the screen and clicks on the Brady Wild Wins Second World Championship video . There is commentary, a little interview with him before, and he says, “I want Bushwacker.”
He pushes away, places his cowboy hat onto his head, and the announcers start talking.
“Bushwacker again. That’s the toughest bull out there, and Wild keeps choosing him, week after week.”
“No one has conquered that bull sixteen times in a row. Wild wants to set another record.”
I glance up at him, and his eyes are narrow, watching the screen, as if he’s studying it.
“You’re going to miss it, Blue Eyes.”
I turn back to the computer, and now Brady’s settling onto the bull, still behind a big gate. Men are around him, helping him, and then a buzzer sounds and the gate swings open, and that huge bull starts to buck and kick, trying to get the human off his back.
But Brady holds on, one arm in the air, his body jerking and bouncing. When the eight seconds are over—which feels like an eternity to me—he falls off, and the men hurry to him, helping him scurry out of the pissed-off bull’s way.
“Wow,” I breathe, my heart hammering. “That’s intense.”
He chuckles. “You should be on the bull.”
“I think I’ll leave that to you.” I look up at him again. “That is scary as fuck, Brady.”
“But so fun.” He laughs and kisses my cheek.
“Your arm is limp as you run away.”
“Dislocated it again,” he says, as if it’s no big deal. “It happens. Twisted the shit out of my ankle on that one, too.”
No wonder his body hurts and he has the walk of a man twenty years his senior.
“Oh, watch this one.” He clicks on a link, and the noise of the arena is back. “I’m only about twenty-three here.”
Before Dirks died. Brady’s chatting with a man, laughing with him, before he walks to the microphone and says, “I want Bruiser.”
“Do you always announce which bull you’ll be riding that day?”
“Yeah, it’s like a challenge to the bull,” he says with a shrug. “Bruiser was a son of a bitch. Mean old thing. Not as bad as Bushwacker, though.”
“Which one will you be riding this week?”
“I’ll tell you when it’s over.” He kisses my head, and I frown up at him. “Call me superstitious, okay? When it’s over, babe.”
I sigh and go back to watching him, over and over again. He explains the point system to me, the importance of certain things, and why it’s done the way it is, for the safety of the rider and the animal.
“Is that Dirks?” I ask, pointing to a handsome blond man, and Brady nods.
“Yeah, that’s him.”
He pushes play on one ride from last year, where he falls and has a huge gash in his head, bleeding badly, and I have to turn and bury my face in his chest, cringing away from the injury.
“And that’s why I don’t want you there,” he murmurs as he closes the laptop and sets it aside. “You don’t need to see me get hurt.”
“You get hurt, in some way or another, almost every time.”
“Usually,” he agrees with a grin but then sobers when I frown at him. “It’s not usually that bad, Abs. Mostly, what hurts the most right now is knowing that I’ll be gone from you two for a few days.”
“When do you fly home?” I ask him.
“Wednesday. But then I’ll be back out on Sunday. That’s how it’s going to be for a few months. I’ll be in and out.”
“If it weren’t for me, would you usually come home between events?”
“Usually, yes. I don’t live on the road.”
“And when is the season over?”
“End of October.”
I let out a long, slow breath. “Okay, then.”
He takes my chin in his fingers and makes me look up at him. “Are you okay?”
“I have to be.” I smile up at him, but I’m trembling inside. “Because my man is a cowboy.”
“Listen to me, Abbi. It’s going to be a long summer, but it’s going to fly by at the same time. I’ll be here roughly half of each week. There will be weeks that I don’t have to go anywhere at all, but most of the time, I will. I’ll be in touch with you constantly.”
“You don’t have to explain?—”
“Yeah, I fucking do, because I don’t want you to worry or wonder or come to any ridiculous conclusions because I didn’t communicate with you. There will be women there. We call them buckle bunnies, but they’re basically groupies. I haven’t had anything to do with them in a decade, but you’ll see them hanging around in photos, and because the media are assholes, they might try to say some shit about that.”
“You’re a rock star.”
“In this world, yeah. I am. And that’s not my ego talking. I’m flying out the morning before ride day, I’ll be at the show, and then I’m flying right back home. You are my focus.”
“No.” I shake my head and shift on the couch so I’m facing him. “That bull needs to be your focus so that for the rest of the time, all but eight seconds of the week, we can be your focus. I just need you to stay safe. I don’t give a fuck about the women, and I can be without you for a couple of days while you do what you love. I’m not insecure, and I’m not a clingy, whiny brat. I’m proud of you. I can hold down the fort here while you kick ass out there. So you focus on staying alive and healthy and whole, and I’ll be here when you get home.”
He frames my face in his hands, his thumbs brushing over my cheeks, his eyes so intense it almost steals my breath away. “I fucking love you.”
I grin at him now. “I love you, too.”