27. Twenty-Seven
Twenty-Seven
Kyla
“And that’s another broken barrier for Hartwell, adding ten seconds to that 6.2—” Wyatt’s voice boomed over the speakers, and I watched as my husband walked back to Buckle, his head down giving a defeated shake. “That would have beaten the NFR record, but did you catch his foot in the stirrup?”
That was his third broken barrier since Billings. His first I thought was a fluke, those things happen, but then the second . . . and now this one.
“It caught. He would have flown right off that horse if he wasn’t holding on to that rope. But he still pulled a 6.2—”
Something was going through Rhett’s mind. Something was pulling him away from his game.
And I had no idea what .
After he taught me how to ride, after his first broken barrier, I noticed every time his phone buzzed his eyes would flutter shut. He would read the message and instantly lock his phone back up, never responding to whoever was contacting him. Tension would course through him, strong enough it filled the air. But then he would turn to me, smile and give me a kiss. And when we would stop, he would let me curl into him, but his breathing was never steady. I doubted he was getting any sleep.
He was quiet, but he still held me as tightly as he had before. Our connection was still strong, but was it strong enough to break whatever was hurting him?
“It’s not like Hartwell to break those barriers but he can’t seem to shake whatever funk he’s in. That 16.2 takes Hartwell to—” Wyatt’s announcing partner—I had completely missed his name—stated the obvious in telling the entire arena that Rhett was now in last place for the night.
Tune them out Rhett, I thought, hoping he could read my mind. His chin lifted, searching for me in the crowd. I caught his gaze and scrunched my nose, trying to give him a don’t sweat it smile, but since I was sweating it myself, I knew my reaction wasn’t coming off the way I had hoped. He pinched his brow and jerked his head, motioning for me to leave the stands and find him. Not wasting a single second, I left my seat and made my way towards him.
We met halfway to the trailer, and Rhett was already peeling his sponsored shirt off.
“Hey, Cowboy.” I tried to sound upbeat, giving him a winning smile, even though I could see it in his expression he wasn’t feeling it .
“I wasn’t in the ride,” Rhett grumbled. He didn’t make eye contact, he didn’t reach out for me, he just opened the trailer and led Buckle in. He latched her reins and scratched behind her ears, flinging his shirt over his shoulder before leaving the trailer.
He began to walk right past me, his head still down, his hat covering his eyes. Darkness crowding him.
“Do you want to meet the guys?” I asked, following him to the front of the truck.
He shook his head, not saying a word.
I rolled my lips as Rhett opened the door to the cab. I hated how stiff he was being—how quiet. I had never seen this man act this way. He was normally the one to smile at me, ground me as my anxiety took root. There had to be more going on through his mind than just three broken barriers. Did those times really hinder his standing that much? Did three broken barriers make or break him?
“Don’t we need to wait for Wyatt?” I asked, trying to get him to talk.
He shook his head again, a force behind it as he sat his hat on the dash. “No,” he bit out. “He’s not going to Arizona.”
Right.
Arizona.
Arizona was our next stop.
To meet my mother.
I hugged myself, rubbing my arms up and down as if I was cold, but under the setting Colorado sun I was anything but. I was just . . . nervous? A small ball of anxiety grew in my stomach as I watched Rhett hang his shirt up on the hanger in the back of the cab, completely void of emotion. I hated him like this. I hated the way he seemed so closed off.
“Rhett,” I whispered his name, seeing his shoulders rise as he took a deep breath. “You know how you tell me I need to tell you what’s going through my head?” I moved, reaching out to touch his arm.
He let out a long-exasperated breath, a huff moving his lips as he turned to face me, instantly pulling me into him. I breathed him in, getting used to his scent. He wrapped me in his arms, and held me close, his breathing falling into beat with mine. After a few moments of silence—I couldn’t exactly tell how long we stood there—he finally relaxed. He lifted his head and pressed his lips to my temple.
“I’m fine,” he mumbled, lowering his chin as he softly kissed my bare shoulder. “I’m just not focused.”
Arching my back slightly, I raised an eyebrow at him. “I can tell. So.” I raised an arm to cup his chin. “How do we get you focused?”
Leaning his forehead against mine he inhaled. “I just need—”
I kissed him softly, stopping his words.
“Time,” he finished, his eyes opening slowly.
Moving my fingers to the nape of his neck and threading his hair into my hand, I parroted, “Time.”
Time was impossible to find .
We drove through the evening, Rhett focused on the road, with me drifting off in the passenger seat. The roads were quiet, and Rhett stuck mainly to the backroads as we ventured across the borders. His hand found mine and our fingers linked together. The tension in his eyes was lifting. It wasn’t gone, but his shoulders seemed to relax the further we got from the broken barriers.
When my eyes weren’t closed, I focused on him. I studied the way his hands moved on the steering wheel, and the way he settled into the seat. The complete ease he had, even though there was something haunting him. I didn’t want to believe it was just the broken barriers that were running through his mind. He had told me that he could make up those times—those runs simply wouldn’t count towards the NFR. So I knew that couldn’t be the only thing. There was something else. Something he wasn’t telling me. Something that was taking his attention away from what he found important.
But, he drove, letting the road and the night sky take away anything that may have been holding onto his thoughts. Every now and then he would take a deep breath, knitting his brow as he checked the GPS I had talked him into keeping on.
“Where are we going?” I asked, once I noticed him turning off the path the GPS had set for us.
“You’re supposed to be asleep,” he answered softly.
“I’ve been awake. Where are we going, Cowboy?”
Cocking a grin, he turned to me, a single eyebrow raised slightly. “You’ll see.”
“You’re crossing into Utah?” I sat up in my seat, trying to make out the dark terrain outside the windshield .
“Just a corner of Utah.” He smiled.
My eyes widened. No matter what was going through his mind, he still was thinking of me. Still thinking of that stupid bucket list I had. He taught me to ride a horse and now, he was taking me to the Four Corners. Next, he’d have me sleeping under the stars.
We approached the Four Corners hand in hand. It was dark and there were no lights shining down on us, only the light of the moon. I looked around for any sign of a security vehicle—a sign of anyone really, but no one was around. It was just a slab of concrete surrounded by benches and a few buildings. It wasn’t much to look at but still. Four states met here, and I could lay in all four.
“Now . . .” Rhett turned, a playful smile on his lips. I loved that smile, I hadn’t seen it since we left the arena, but it warranted one from me as well. “They’re closed, so—”
“We could come back in the morning you know,” I whispered, a sudden rush flying up my spine thinking we were breaking the law, moving closer to Rhett.
“Now, where’s the fun in that?”
“We’re supposed to be getting you focused, not breaking and entering.”
“We’re not breaking and entering.” He pulled me into his side. “We’re walking and laying.”
I hid back a laugh, loving that he was making this come true for me. His grip on my hand tightened as we came up to the borders. The four large names of the states made a square as their borders came together, and all I could do was stare at them. I wasn’t sure why a circle that lay on the ground was something that got my heart beating faster, but looking up at Rhett and seeing his eyes heavy on mine, made it all the more worthwhile.
Rolling my lips I dropped his hand and went to the ground. Making sure to lay my back right in the middle I sprawled out spread eagle, each part of me in a different state. Rhett stood, his hands in his pockets as he looked down, a soft smile shining down on me.
“Your right leg is in Arizona, your left leg is in New Mexico, your right arm is in Utah and your head and left arm are in Colorado. You are in four places at once.” He tilted his head and bent down to squat next to me. “I knew I couldn’t get you to Delicate Arch this trip—”
“This is better.” I reached out to him, pulling him down to lay next to me. “Until we get caught.”
“We won’t get caught.” Rhett drew out the words, a low rumble filling the space between us. He kissed my temple lightly. “I made sure there were no cops around.”
I turned to look at him, giggling as I moved to hit him lightly in the chest, but before I could, he grasped my hand, his lips finding my fingertips. Our fingers laced together as they hovered above us, the small diamond on my ring glistening as the light of the moon hit it. It wasn’t even a full moon, it wasn’t even that big of a diamond, but it shined.
“Did I ever tell you about this ring?” Rhett said, breaking the silence that hung in the air.
My lips twitched. “No,” I responded softly, loving how he was basically reading my mind. “Tell me.”
“It was my grandmother JoAnn’s.” His eyes met mine, a fire behind them that seemed to replace the tension from earlier. “My grandfather proposed to her right before he got deployed.” He kissed my fingertips again. “He had no money to his name, absolutely nothing, but knew he needed to marry my grandmother. He proposed with this simple ring, promising her to replace it once they had more to their name, but she wouldn’t accept anything else. My grandmother always said it was the ring that held them together for so long, she would look at it, and remember his simple promise that he would come home to her. The day he got back, they promised each other so much more, and then they bought the land. Without this ring, Hartwell Hills wouldn’t be what it is. She wore it up until my dad married my mom. My mom wore it for a few years before she got into the dirty work, and she didn’t want to ruin it. It’s been cleaned and waiting for you ever since.”
“Waiting for me?” I questioned, lifting my head to look at him.
“I know it’s not a romantic story like you were probably expecting, but I don’t think it belongs with anyone else.” His voice dropped, “It’s yours.”
On instinct, I rolled on top of Rhett, my hair creating a curtain. His arms moved as he brushed my hair to one side. He didn’t even blink before his mouth was on mine, a kiss deep enough to make me moan against him, wanting more right here in four different states. His fingers trailed my jaw, cupping my face as his lips moved in sync with mine. We kissed like we never had before, a hunger behind it that wouldn’t fade. His kiss was crumbling me, and he was picking up all my pieces.
We kissed, and my hand found his skin under his shirt as he sat up, his lips moving to my neck. Wrapping my legs around him I had to remind myself we were in public. I could give him everything right here—feel the tension lift from his body. But whatever that feeling was, left for the moment, and for that, I wanted him more. I was his and he was mine. Whatever he was going through, whatever I had gone through . . . none of it mattered.
“Thank you,” I said against his lips. “You’re making everything come true for me.”
“Thank you,” he responded, his eyes darkened, heavy, and full of need as he bore into me. “For being my wife.”