9. Nine
Nine
Kyla
Being in Rhett’s house without Rhett wasn’t as uncomfortable as I thought it would be. It was oddly relaxing. Abi came to me faster than I expected, handing me a pair of boots and hat before grabbing my hand to pull me out of the house. The day was spent in the sun, where Stetson showed me the horses and how to hold my hand out flat for them to take the apples from me. We chased the goats and made sure the cows had plenty of feed. I was dragged every which way as he showed me everything. The only thing he managed to fail at was getting me on a horse.
Then we gathered to watch the rodeo.
Rhett’s parents were welcoming to the random stranger in their house, and almost treated me as a member of the family. Charlotte was the sweetest, warmest woman I had ever met. Her hair fell over her shoulders with a slight curl at the tips, while her eyes matched Abi’s with a hint of gray around her iris. I could have sworn she was the same age as my mother, but where my mother made sure to hide every gray hair and always had the most fashionable suit she could find, Charlotte was down to earth in jeans and a flannel top, with mud caked under her fingernails.
The rodeo drew all my attention, watching each new event as all the questions formed in my mind. I was impressed with the bareback riders the most—men riding a bucking horse with no saddle and just a rope to hold on to. As I watched the men basically lay on the back of the horse as it bucked, I wondered how none of them had whiplash.
“Oh, I guarantee plenty of them have,” Charlotte had told me. “Lachlan had a few injuries back in the day.”
Lachlan came from the kitchen, his sleeves rolled up to his forearms as he reached for his hat, rolling his eyes at his aunt’s comment, leaning in to give her a quick kiss on the temple. “Dishes are done Aunt Lottie. See ya tomorrow,” he mumbled, leaving the room quickly before anyone could ask him to stay.
“Is he okay?” I whispered to Abi.
Abi shrugged her shoulders, giving me a sly grin as she nodded softly.
Mr. Hartwell—who told me I had to call him “Leo”—was quiet and reserved. But unlike Lachlan, he lit up as he watched his son land second place in his event.
“Still top in the nation.” He clapped his hands at the television as the arena prepped for the next event .
“What does that entail?” I turned to look at him, confused as to how he could be leading when he came in second.
“Just like any sport, he’s leading the nation this season in wins. He’s earned the most and he has the best scores.” Leo beamed. “Just wait until you see him on the Fourth—the best event Alpine Ridge has to offer.”
“The Fourth of July?” I asked, excitement creeping up until that knot in my stomach formed when I remembered I’d be gone. “I’ll be long out of your hair by then,” I added, taking another look at Leo as he fell back onto the couch, a new bottle of beer in his hand.
“Where are you planning on going, Kyla?” Leo asked as he took his first sip.
“Oh, Leo, let her be. She’s a guest.” Charlotte touched her husband’s knee, giving him a look of annoyance.
“I’ll be off to Washington. Speaking of . . .” I stood, wanting out of this conversation before it even had time to root. I gave Stetson a smile and ruffled his dark hair. He turned and smiled up at me, the rope stopping by his sides. “I should probably do some research into apartments tonight. I’m sure Rhett would like his house when he gets back. Thank you, again, for letting me watch, and for dinner.”
Charlotte smiled. “Oh dear, you’re welcome to stay as long as you need.”
I nodded at her. “Thank you, Charlotte. I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“I’ll walk you out, it’s bedtime for Stetson anyway . . .” Abi stood and followed me to the door with Stetson not far behind.
“But Mama the bull riders are next!” Stetson protested, dropping the rope as he spun to glare at his mother .
“No, bud . . . bed.” Abi scowled at her son, who gave us another pout, but followed her anyway. “They’re serious, you know,” she said to me as I opened the front door. “You’re welcome as long as you like.”
Stetson wrapped his arms around my legs. “Wanna help me with the pigs tomorrow?”
“Pigs?” I looked down at him and then back up at Abi.
“You’re on a working ranch, my new friend. There’s way more here than meets the eyes. See you tomorrow?” Abi asked with a smile and a wink.
I gave Stetson a quick hug back and returned her smile with a soft nod. “Tomorrow.”
Rhett’s house was dark when I stepped inside, memories of the night with him flooding my mind before I quickly squashed them out. I showered and made a cup of tea, then relaxed and readied myself for bed. When Rhett had told me to relax, this is what I pictured—not spending the day out in the sun. But even though it was completely out of the norm for me, a smile spread across my lips as I thought about my day.
In a way, it was relaxing.
The only thing missing was . . .
Rhett.
Before heading to the couch, I grabbed my phone, jumping only slightly when it rang in my hand.
My stomach dropped as those butterflies came back as I saw Rhett’s name staring back at me.
He remembered to call.
“Hey, Cowboy,” I answered .
“Hey, Bunny.”
“Bunny?” I shouted. “That’s a huge no from me.”
“I’m running out of options.”
“Kyla works fine for me, you know.” I chuckled, shoving my body into the corner of the couch and lifting my legs up to my chest. “Besides, Lachlan was telling me about something called Buckle Bunnies?”
“Oh god,” he groaned.
“So ‘Bunny’ is out of the question.”
“Okay, okay, I’ll accept that that was a terrible choice in nicknames, but again, I’ll come up with something. So . . .” His voice sighed, lighting up again, and I swear I could hear his smile. “Now that I can actually hear you, and I’m not surrounded by horses and calves . . . what did you think of the rodeo?”
“I actually really enjoyed it.” I suddenly wished I had him on FaceTime and not just a phone call. I had the urge to change the phone call to a FaceTime, but then I remembered I was wearing just a t-shirt and shorts, my wet hair not even brushed yet. I wasn’t anything to fawn over. If David had seen me like this, he would have handed me a hairbrush. “I do have a couple questions though.”
“Hit me with ‘em, I’ve been doing this for years.”
I moved, crossing my legs on the couch like I was a student sitting on the floor waiting for the answer. “What does ‘breaking the barrier’ mean? I heard Wyatt say that a few times.”
“The calf has to have a head start, and that’s determined beforehand. If you don’t give the calf that head start, ten seconds is added to your time,” he explained .
Closing my eyes I tried to envision him as he talked about the rodeo. Was he smiling, moving his hands, running his fingers through his hair? Was he lying on the bed? Or was he in the stable with Buckle? What was he wearing? Did he still have his hat perched on his head . . . or had he taken that off long ago? God, I want to see him . . .
“That would explain the groans from your family. Have you ever done that?”
“More than I’d like to admit.” Rhett’s chuckle was deep and airy.
“But you’re top in the nation,” I added, my smile growing.
He laughed then—the same laugh from the bar. I did a quick look at myself, thinking it didn’t matter what I looked like, I wanted to see him, badly—not just hear his voice. Putting him on speaker phone, my thumb hovered over the FaceTime icon.
He answered, bringing me back to the conversation. “I am, but even the top roper breaks the barrier every now and then.”
“And even though you came in second tonight, you’re still the top roper?”
“Possibly,” he confirmed. “It all depends on my earnings. If I earn the most money, I hold my spot. If I hold my spot, I’m headed towards the NFR in Vegas.”
“That’s the big time, right? The Superbowl of the rodeo?”
“Yes, Kyla . . . the Superbowl of the rodeo. The top fifteen in each event head there in December. I’ve competed twice now, but never won a buckle. That’s the goal this year. ”
“Then what?” I asked, more out of curiosity than anything else. I knew that Rhett loved the ranch and the rodeo, but there had to be more.
“Then it starts all over again. Another season in the cards and the beginning of a new one next year.” He took a deep breath, a long exhale flowing through my speakers. “What’s another question?”
“Are you planning on competing your entire life?” I asked rather quickly, already knowing the answer.
“Until I decide to retire. This is my life and I love it.”
“Tying down calves,” I muttered.
“Would you rather me ride a bull? Did you see that event, or did you lose interest?”
“I left right before the bull riders, but I have questions there too. For starters, why would anyone want to do that to themselves? Abi told me one of the lead bull riders had to retire due to injuries.”
“J.B. Mauney retired last year. Hell of a guy, but yeah, bull riders get the most injuries. They wear protection for a reason, but it’s a hell of a rush.”
“You’ve ridden a bull?!” I sat up, almost spilling my tea all over his couch. I clenched my teeth and composed myself, setting the mug on the coffee table before settling back down on the couch. “You lived to tell the tale?”
“I grew up on a ranch, Sunshine, of course I’ve ridden a bull. Wyatt has too. Broke his arm and then he made the decision to stay far away from rodeos . . . until he got that voice for announcing. Lachlan used to ride Bareback.”
Sunshine? I scrunched my nose, deciding to let the nickname slide for now .
“Your mom mentioned that. How do those men not leave with head injuries after every event.”
“It’s not as bad as it looks, really.”
“I highly doubt that Sunshine, ” I teased.
“Yeah I didn’t like the sound of that one either. Regretted it the second I said it.”
I hummed, holding back a laugh that I knew wanted to come out. “What’s on your agenda tomorrow?”
“A few rides tomorrow afternoon, and one big party tomorrow evening,” he answered, his voice falling soft like mine was.
I tried to picture him again. Before I was wondering what he was doing, but now I saw it. He was lying on the bed, his hat next to him, his legs hanging off the sides, an arm over his eyes. He had to be tired, and here I was, keeping him awake simply for my own joy.
“Well then, Cowboy, get some rest.”
“What?” he laughed. “You don’t have any more questions for me?”
“Oh, I have plenty, but you’re probably tired. How long was the drive today?”
Rhett let out a long, exasperated sigh. “Too long. Wyatt slept, and we stopped twice to let Buckle out. So, yeah.” He paused. “I’m dead tired.”
“I’ll write down my questions and text them to you tomorrow. Get a good night’s sleep.”
“Always do before I ride.”
“No buckle bunnies?” I laughed.
“Nope . . . no buckle bunnies, Bunny. You off to bed? It’s pretty late. ”
I scrunched my nose. “Gotta blow dry my hair first, I refuse to go to sleep with wet hair.”
Wait . . . what? Why did I find it important that he knew that information? I closed my eyes and lightly slapped my palm to my forehead.
“Oh well, I wouldn’t want my pillow to get wet. Sleep well. Talk tomorrow?”
I gave him a sweet “mmhmm” before hanging up the call. I looked at the phone, biting my bottom lip. It was a fifteen-minute phone call. That’s all it was to bring that hint of something more to my mind. I lightly touched the top of my phone to my forehead, the small buzz that radiated my screen with a notification giving me a slight jump.
Rhett
Sleep well. Don’t forget to blow dry your hair.
Even though there was a small flutter in my stomach from that final butterfly leaving, I tossed my phone to the side of the couch . . . wishing I had hit that FaceTime button.