1 #3
I look around the table at the loud clatter of utensils, the excited din of conversation. Reese laughs as Ford slings an arm around her shoulders and pulls her into his side. Something achy and taut tugs at my heart.
Love’s a funny thing. One minute, Ford’s slamming his hand through a jukebox, the next, he’s got the best thing in his world sitting right beside him.
All my brothers. Down for the fucking count because of a pretty face. That ain’t to say they’re wrong. All my sisters-in-law are pure gold. I’d go to battle for any of them.
I bring the whiskey to my lips, savoring its sting. Sure, all my brothers got second chances, but getting those second chances didn’t come easy or without pain.
Good things don’t stay. I saw my brothers have it all and then lose it in horrific ways. It’s easier to rodeo, to chase girls, to drink, to start fights. Hell, even my little sister was two steps away from divorce.
I’ve seen what love can turn a cowboy into, and it’s not anything good.
I’m living proof.
“Wy?”
I blink and look up. Everyone’s staring at me with those worried eyes I’ve become familiar with the last few months.
My brothers look at me expectantly.
“You been sleepin’?” Davis asks.
I set down my whiskey. If they want to know the truth, no, I’m not fucking sleeping. I haven’t slept through the night since Fallon took off. She’s in my dreams. Haunting them like the cowgirl wraith she is.
“I’m fine,” I grumble.
Ford arches a brow. “Relax, it ain’t an interrogation. How’s work?”
I sigh, tired of the tirade of questions. My brothers just want to keep me on course, but really, they’re breathing down my fucking neck.
I shrug. “Ain’t the rodeo, that’s for sure.”
“Wouldn’t believe it if I didn’t see it. Our little brother, a coach.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I say, annoyed by Ford’s affectionate ribbing.
Hunching my shoulders, I dig into the lasagna even though I’m not hungry. I want to ride. I want a drink. Preferably at the same time. A fact that would only make Davis growl.
“While you’re here, need to talk to you ’bout something,” Charlie says. His tone is serious, which means it’s about the ranch. “The land you’re livin’ on…we need it.”
The left-field announcement has me gaping. “You serious?”
Davis passes the whiskey bottle down the table. “It makes no financial sense to let that land sit.”
“So that means, what?” I glare around the table, pissed off about this sudden revelation. Pissed off they’ve all discussed this without me. Fucking figures. They’ve always left me out of big conversations. And I’ve always hated it.
Ford smirks. “You’re gonna move, kid. End of summer.”
Reese looks at me hopefully. “The garage is free.”
Great. The fucking garage.
I glare at them. “What about my Airstream?”
“Your Airstream has rats,” Davis says, and Dakota shudders. “It’s hollowed out. Eaten through. Ain’t worth shit. At the very least, you shouldn’t be livin’ in it.”
I set down my whiskey. “Fuck.”
Ford nods. “You’ll be okay, kid.”
I already hate this. Change. It scares the shit out of me. Maybe that’s why I’ve always acted like life’s too serious. Maybe this is their way of telling me to finally get my shit together.
I’ve always felt a ton of pressure to live up to my trailblazing older brothers. Charlie has the ranch. Davis his dog rescue. Ford his baseball camp. But they’re not pressuring me. It’s pressure I put on myself. I see what they’ve done, and I’m not sure I stack up.
I’m proud of my big brothers.
I don’t know if they’d say the same about me.
“What are you gonna do with the land?” I ask.
“Ain’t sure yet.” Charlie looks at Davis. “We gotta clean up all those old trees. Tear down those posts. Level out the land.”
“I’ll do it,” Davis says.
“Davis.” Dakota’s lips thin. We all watch as a silent conversation happens between them. She lays a hand on his arm, and his big muscles untense. “Hire someone. You don’t need the stress right now.”
My eyes narrow. “What’s going on?”
Dakota sighs. “You didn’t tell them?” Pretty face pained, she looks around the table. “He has an ulcer.”
Davis sighs. “Dakota.”
“Shit,” Charlie swears.
“How long have you known?” Ford looks pissed. Then worried.
I clear my throat. “You’ll be okay?”
“About a month. And I’ll be fine.” Davis grunts, standing to pluck a whimpering Lainie from her cradle. Slowly, he rocks her side to side. “Feels like a fucking burning in my chest is all.”
“You should have told us,” Ford says, offended.
“Too many secrets in this family,” Charlie snarls, shoving a hunk of lasagna in his mouth.
Silence falls around the table.
I ball my fists and keep my mouth shut. What they don’t know won’t hurt ’em.
“Did you see Fallon’s ad?” Ruby’s light voice floats around the table, chasing away the tense silence.
Charlie’s eyes flick to me then his wife. “Sunflower.”
“We have to talk about her.” Ruby gives her husband a pretty frown. “She’s not…dead.”
Dakota flinches at the word. “Ruby’s right. Fallon’s still part of this family, even if she’s not here.”
Reese reaches over to hold Dakota’s hand.
We all figured Fallon needed time to let her wounds heal. But when one month turned to two, and two months turned to three, it became clear she wasn’t coming back.
I haven’t felt a damn thing since she left. Only emptiness in my chest. A blank space in my heart.
“Where is it?” I ask casually, trying to act like I’m not ready to tear the goddamn room apart in search of a single magazine.
At Ford’s nod, Reese stands and pulls the magazine from high atop the fridge. I scowl at the ridiculous hiding spot.
“Here she is,” Reese says softly, passing it my way.
I exhale when I open it to her centerfold advertisement.
In the glossy issue of Cowgirl Magazine , Fallon sits on the back of a massive Clydesdale.
She wears Tecovas, propped up on bejeweled spurs.
Caramel hair curling around her slender shoulders, her eyes darkened by kohl.
She looks beautiful and bad ass. Up close, I can see the flecks of gold in her hazel eyes.
My chest is suddenly on fire, and I rub a hand against the ache.
I can feel the eyes of my family on me, expectant, waiting.
“They even captured the scowl on camera,” I grumble, earning a sharp elbow to the side from Ruby.
“Well, she did it,” Reese says, a small hint of pride in her voice. “She’s famous.”
She is. After scoring the highest a woman ever has on a bull, she became the poster child for Tecovas.
Wranglers. Hooey. Everyone wants to cash in on the fact that she’s a woman on a bull.
Hell, a woman on a bull who’s rode and survived .
It also helps that she’s a goddamn smoke show with a smart mouth. Everyone eats it up.
I should know.
“And Pappy got what he wanted,” Charlie says, his face turning dark at the mention of Fallon’s slimy manager. “Fame. Fortune. Fucking bullshit, if you ask me.”
“He has our girl.” Dakota’s voice is hard, her eyes misty. “He doesn’t care about her.”
I scowl. “Pappy don’t care if one day they pull her up dead, as long as he makes his fucking money.”
Reese chokes on her wine.
Dakota picks up a basket of rolls and narrows her eyes. “Wyatt, keep talking and you will die a brioche-related death.”
Reese, her pretty face creased in sympathy, says, “He reminds me of Gavin.”
Ford’s face grows cloudy, and he runs a big hand over his wife’s arm.
“You hate that guy, don’t you?” Ruby asks me.
“Yeah. I do.” I lean back in my chair, cross my arms. “Just another bad trainer the world don’t need.”
I’ve never trusted the guy. Heard horror stories about him on the rodeo circuit. I know what a bad trainer does. And Pappy’s a bad trainer to a T. But Fallon doesn’t care. Most stubborn woman I’ve ever met.
“When was the last time you talked to her?” Ruby asks Dakota.
I stiffen, grip the table.
Dakota’s voice is soft, hesitant. Her eyes flick to mine. Hold. “She called, maybe two months ago.” Her lower lip trembles. “Right after Lainie was born.”
Holding my breath like I’m drowning, I force the words out. “Do you know where she is?”
“No.”
Fallon’s become a ghost. Social media account managed by someone else, phone calls sparse. All we know is she’s out there, alive. I track her on the rodeo circuit, follow her in small competitions, but where she’s posted up is a secret.
Davis grunts and crosses his arms, biceps bulging. “Still think we should have traced her call.”
Dakota shakes her dark head then swats his arm. “We can’t betray her trust.” She looks down at her plate. “I wish…I just wish she wouldn’t have left. That we could have helped her.”
Guilt, regret, twists my stomach. I sit here, feeling as empty as a drum.
A memory washes over me of the last time I laid eyes on Fallon. The last real conversation we shared. The night of Reese’s birthday party at Nowhere. Fighting with her about all the ways she was acting up. I called her an idiot, she called me an asshole, and we were done.
From the charger comes the crackle of the two-way radio. “Head’s up, boys,” Tina says. “Cows are out.”
Time for me to go.
I slug down the rest of my whiskey and snag one for the road. “I’m on it.”
Ruby and Charlie exchange a look of concern.
“We have staff for that,” Davis says.
“You worked a full day, kid,” Ford says carefully.
“I got it.” I stand and give my brothers a grin I’ve perfected over the years. Casual, cool, when inside I’m a fucking riot.
“See you, kid.” I ruffle Duke’s dark hair and then lope down the hall to the front door.
Outside, I mount Pepita and grip the reins.
“ Hyah, hyah! ”
The speed’s reckless, but hell, I’m wild. Wind in my hair, whiskey on my lips, I close my eyes. I push Pepita faster and faster until my surroundings begin to blur.
Nothing to catch me but the ground.
Fucking perfect.