42. Epilogue
Epilogue
Rhett
3 Months later
Las Vegas. I made it. The final round.
The arena for the NFR was packed. It always was. I’m not sure why that single fact shocked me, but as I mounted Buckle, ready to take my shot, nerves began to settle in my stomach. I had been here before, but never expected to lead the boards. This was my year. So why the hell did I have these damn nerves circling my stomach?
I exhaled through my mouth, watching the lasso fly through the air next to Buckle. Darren had just gone and Jaxson was up next. Then it was Shane and Riley . . . then me. The best time to beat tonight was 8.3, and Jaxon had just blown that out of the water with a 7.0. I looked up at the big screen, watching Shane control the calf and rope it down, but that broken barrier kicked him to the bottom. My lips tipped. A broken barrier . . . I could work with Shane getting a broken barrier.
“Hey, Rhett—” Jeff came up to me, waving my phone in the air. “It’s the wife.”
I smiled, shaking my head. The nerves that had taken permanent residence in my stomach slightly vanished. Kyla was in the crowd, with Wyatt, Grace, and Abi, and yet she was distracting me by calling. A deep chuckle rumbled through me as I took the phone. It wasn’t a distraction. She knew that. She knew it would be the perfect pick-me-up.
“Hey, Mrs. Hartwell,” I said, looking in the general direction of where she was sitting. I always knew where to look for her. In the past months she has traveled with me to every rodeo, always sitting where I was able to kiss her after each run without her having to leave the stands. Then she would meet me behind the gate once her favorite event (which was Bull Riding even though she wouldn’t admit that to me) was over. She would join me for after events and help with Buckle, then we would go to the hotel and repeat everything all over again. Kyla had become the constant—the grounding force I needed to get to where I was today. And honestly, knowing she was calling me told me she knew I was nervous.
Here at the NFR she was sitting further away. A kiss over the railing wasn’t going to be possible here.
“Hey, Cowboy. You nervous?”
Called it.
“Not one bit,” I lied.
“Liar. ”
“Okay, maybe a little bit.”
“I’ll make you a deal. You rope that calf and beat Jaxson’s score and I’ll come running down towards the chutes.”
“And what if I don’t beat his score?”
“Then I’ll come running down towards the chutes.”
“So, either way—”
“I’ll meet you at the chutes.”
“You’ll miss the Bull Riding if you take off now.”
“You know I don’t care about the bull riders.”
“Now who’s the liar?” I raised an eyebrow.
“Cowboy, you’re gonna have to get back on the podium to get that gold buckle.” Her voice dropped lower, becoming hypnotizing. “I can see you on Buckle, she can sense when you’re nervous you know, so you need to breathe.”
I smiled, trying to pick her up from the crowd. I tried to convince her to wear her yellow dress, but she said it wasn’t fitting for the NFR. Instead, she and Grace had T-Shirts made with a rope and the name HARTWELL written along their shoulder blades.
“I am breathing,” I responded, looking up at the board. “Jason just finished—”
“8.7. You can beat that.”
“Up next is the man we’ve been waiting for. Sitting at the top slot, it’s been a wild road for Rhett getting here, but he’s expected to take it all. Rhett Hartwell from Idaho who is currently . . . on the phone?” I heard the announcer’s voice, missing Wyatt’s voice. He’d make it to the NFR one day. Until then he was in the stands with my wife—wearing a matching T-shirt.
“Shit, Baby, I gotta go.”
“I love you.”
“I love you. Meet me at the chutes.” I tossed the phone back to Jeff and looked at the camera, giving it a cheesy smile.
“You don’t see many cowboys using the phone before their run, but Rhett is a newlywed, and I guarantee you that was his wife he was talking to.”
“He seems a bit nervous, maybe she had to give him a pep talk?”
“Mrs. Hartwell has become known in the arena, almost as much as Rhett himself . . .”
I shook my head, ignoring their banter as I shifted my focus. That calf . . .
Ignoring the sounds and sights that surrounded me, I pulled my attention to the rope in my hand. I focused on Buckle’s warmth under me, her muscles moving as she waited for me to give her the go ahead. I looked at the chute, the small brown calf already moving with force, ready to give me a good run. I closed my eyes and saw Kyla. Her smile. Her eyes. I focused on her, and the prize at the end of all of this: her lips on mine. It didn’t matter if I beat Jaxson’s score, it didn’t matter if I broke a barrier, all that mattered was after I finished this ride, the NFR was done for the year and Kyla would be waiting for me.
Opening my eyes, I jammed the rope in between my teeth, and nodded.
“There he goes! That little calf already shooting past—”
Buckle moved, only flying a few feet until she halted to a stop. I grabbed the calf and jumped off, the dirt flying around my boots as I felt the rope along my palm as I approached, grabbing the calf, lifting her up and down . . . to the ground. Three legs, one rope, twist and tie . . .
Done.
I waved my arms and ran back to Buckle.
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 . . .
“And that’s exactly what we were expecting from Rhett Hartwell! 6.9! The first six second run of the night and Rhett is officially on his way to that gold buckle. Maybe more men should take a call from their wife before their runs. Hot damn, Hartwell—”
I turned Buckle and ran off, stopping her right before the gate, jumping off and handing her reins to Jeff. I didn’t even look at him, I didn’t pay attention to anything.
“Hey, Rhett!” he called after me, but at this point his voice was a blur among everything else. I ran past the cowboys waiting and the rodeo workers . . . I had to find my wife.
My heart was racing, but my mind was clear. I just jumped to the top slot—I pretty much just won the NFR—and all I could see was that light blue t-shirt and white cowboy boots that were running towards me. She made it in record time, making me think she missed my run, but I didn’t care. I didn’t care one bit.
Her smile shined brightly as she jumped into my arms, her laugh filling the air as her legs wrapped around my waist. I grabbed her rear and held her close, the feel of her in my arms lifting any and all nerves that still lingered. Maybe those nerves were adrenaline at this point. But whatever they were, they were gone. And she replaced them.
“Cowboy!” she shouted in my ear. “6.9! SIX. POINT. NINE!” Her legs tightened around my waist, my arms holding her steady as she arched her back away from me, her hands sliding to the nape of my neck. Our eyes met and I melted. “You did it.” Her voice had turned to a whisper.
I smiled at her, my gaze dropping to her lips. I kissed her, lifting a hand from her to hold on to her head, pulling her as close to me as possible. Each kiss sparked a new sensation in me, and this one was no different. Her vanilla scent enveloped us as I felt her fingers run through my hair, the tips finding their way under my hat. This was the best part of every rodeo. The kiss at the end of the run. Kyla in my arms, her lips on mine.
I broke the kiss, leaving my lips against hers. “I love you,” I whispered, my voice shaky.
“I love you more, Cowboy. Who knew all I needed was somebody like you.” Her lips tipped in a smile.
“Somebody like me?” I smiled, resisting the urge to kiss her again.
“Only you.”
“What, no cowboys?” I emphasized the “s,” knowing very well she had dubbed last summer her Summer of Cowboys.
“Nope, just one. And I love that cowboy more than anything.” She smiled, giving me a small fleeting kiss. “You did it.”
“Rhett, come on man, you need to get out there for the ceremony, you got the gold. Get your ass out here!” Jeff had caught up to us, completely out of breath.
I turned to look at him, only now seeing just how far I had run. We weren’t far from Kyla’s seat—I had definitely traveled further than she did. I turned back to her, getting lost in her once more as I gave her one more deep kiss, wishing it could turn into more.
I dropped her, my lips still on hers as her feet hit the ground .
“Get out there,” she whispered.
“Rhett . . .” Jeff urged.
“I’m coming.” I held onto Kyla as long as I could until her fingers slipped free of mine as I turned and ran back towards Jeff. “See you after, Mrs. Hartwell?!” I turned, jogging backwards to face her.
“See you after, Cowboy.”
God that woman. She was all I wanted—everything and more. And from now until forever, I got to call her Mrs. Hartwell.
I got to call her mine.