34. Epilogue
epilogue
. . .
Bishop
“Come on, come on! Move your asses,” Cleo muttered as the people in front of us finally stepped out of our way.
“Slow down. We don’t need you making headlines for pushing people outta the way,” I said, shaking my head as she took the stadium stairs two at a time. She was rushing back to our seats as the music kicked up and the announcer began calling out the lineup for the evening.
“And last, but certainly not least, is Lennox Hayes on Strider! This duo is currently sitting at that hallowed first place spot, which isn’t much of a surprise to anyone familiar with them. They traveled all the way from Ashwood, Texas to be here tonight.”
“I’d expect nothing less from Doug Hayes’ daughter. He was a force to be reckoned with, and Lennox is stepping into his shoes with ease,” the other announcer commented.
I smiled as the crowd went wild for my girl, screaming until I barely heard anything over the thunderous applause. My ears were ringing by the time it died down, but my heart had never been happier.
I’d been to a lot of rodeos over the course of my life, but none that quite matched this one.
The Calgary Stampede was in a league of its own.
I understood why the ten-day event was as celebrated as it was.
People from all over the world came to see the best of the best battle it out on the rodeo grounds, and Lennox was one of them.
After the holidays were over, Lennox and I had spent a lot of time talking about our future and what it would look like.
Nothing had changed with my job. The ranch was still in a transition period and needed me more than ever.
With Doug finally embracing retirement, Lincoln and I were still figuring out how the ranch would be run.
He’d been cramming his schedule full of clinics and events across the country so that he could take time off once Josie had the baby.
It didn’t leave a lot of time to help me run the day-to-day operations at the ranch.
We’d built a good crew who could take care of most of their shit on their own, but I’d been the one struggling to keep up.
Letting go of the reins, even a little bit, was still something I was struggling with, but it was getting easier with time. Lennox and Lincoln were the only two people I felt comfortable enough with to ask for help. Even then, it was normally on a small scale, but they were both patient with me.
Doug and I had talked about it, too. Though he still gave me a hard time about it, he’d told me he understood how difficult it could be to lean on others.
It was something that had taken him a long time, too, but he’d realized that nothing in this life could run smoothly with a single person running the show.
Doesn’t matter how big or small the task was.
Life was easier, better in every way, when you had someone to lean on.
I suspected his lessons were about much more than running the ranch, but he didn’t push it and neither did I.
Honestly, if it hadn’t been for Lennox, I wasn’t sure I could’ve done everything I needed to.
She was always the first to jump in and sort out any issues that came up if I was out at a cattle auction or in the middle of a pasture with a herd and no cell reception.
We talked over a lot of decisions for the ranch as a team, even though we always ran them by Doug and Ruby afterward.
The pride that filled their eyes when listening to their daughter sparked more joy than I could’ve ever imagined.
Not that they would ever admit this out loud, but I suspected they were worried about their youngest daughter and what role she would settle into at the ranch.
Lennox had her barrel racing, and while she loved what she did and had ambitious goals to meet within the confines of the sport, I had a feeling it wasn’t what she wanted to do forever.
She’d taken on a lot of responsibilities over the past seven months.
Josie had spent the first trimester of her pregnancy hunched over the toilet, so Lennox had stepped up alongside Ruby to take care of the office work.
There’d been a bit of a learning curve, which meant Lennox often held her tongue while Josie criticized her attempt at file organization through the thin bathroom door, but they both made it through somehow.
In addition, Cleo had come to Lennox about starting up a kid’s camp over the summer.
She said parents at school had asked if she knew of any in the area that involved horse riding and fundamentals, because they were having difficulty finding any.
Lennox loved the idea, and the two of them had spent all their free time coming up with a presentation for Doug and Ruby to give the greenlight.
But all of that left little time for Lennox’s plans to return to barrel racing.
The Women’s Professional Rodeo Association started calling in January, asking her if she was returning to the circuit.
She’d given them some bullshit answer about being undecided, which would’ve been fine if her shoulders hadn’t slumped forward every time she hung up the phone.
When I tried talking to her about it, she used the ranch as an excuse as to why she couldn’t go back.
Josie and Ruby needed her in the office.
I needed her on the back of a horse. Doug needed her to occasionally drive him to doctor’s appointments.
Cleo needed help with the camp. The list she came up with never ended.
The girl had an excuse for everything, but I saw right through her.
Lennox had a myriad of championships and trophies under her belt, but she’d talked about winning one more before hanging up her rodeo hat, and I’d been determined to make sure she had the chance to do it.
Was going to Doug and telling on her a low blow? Maybe, but it worked.
He’d been red as a tomato when telling Lennox to put herself first, and how much he hated that she’d even considered walking away before doing everything she wanted to do. “Rodeo’s a fast sport, bug,” he’d told her. “Gotta grab the bull by the horns while you still can.”
The next time the WPRA called, Lennox told them she’d see them at the Calgary qualifier in Salina, and then she won the damn thing.
I hated that I couldn’t be there to cheer her on, but I didn’t doubt her abilities for a moment.
She had what it took to compete with the best of the best and now she was proving it.
There was no way I was going to miss the Calgary Stampede, though. Not when I knew what it had meant to her. It was the first time asking for help had been easy. Doug and Lincoln both cleared their schedules to make sure they could cover for us while we were out.
When Lennox told me she wanted to travel, I was worried I’d hold her back.
The life of a rancher didn’t leave a lot of time for lavish European vacations, and she’d sounded so damn happy when she talked about it.
I’d barely been out of state, let alone the country, but Calgary seemed like a good place to start.
“Oh my god. Summers here are so much better than Texas,” Cleo said, happily sipping a beer by my side. She tipped her head up toward the sun, basking in the spring-like weather.
“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself, but can you put the phone in the holder already? You’re making me nauseous with all your shaking,” Josie asked, her shaky voice coming through the earbud I was sharing with Cleo.
“Oops, sorry,” Cleo said. She sat her phone in the small tripod we’d brought along so that her family could watch from home. Thank fuck for technology.
Since she was on summer break, Cleo was the only one who’d been able to tag along. Doug wasn’t cleared for a thirty-hour car ride to Canada and Josie’s due date fell right in the middle of the trip. Ruby and Lincoln stayed behind to take care of everyone while we were gone.
“There she is!” Cleo exclaimed, pointing toward the alley between the chutes.
Lennox’s black hat was pulled down, so I couldn’t make out her face but the hot pink long sleeve she was wearing stood out against the darkness. Strider pranced at the starting line, champing at the damn bit for his rider to let him run.
She ran her hand over his neck in three slow strokes, ending the last on a final pat. Her chin lifted just a fraction, but her eyes seemed set on the targets in front of her. I loved seeing that side of her. The laser sharp focus. The sheer determination.
For so long I’d made the mistake of thinking she was just a good time girl, the kind that didn’t take much seriously and laughed their way through life without so much as a care in the world, but I was so fucking wrong.
Shame was my best friend whenever I remembered the way I’d dismissed her, but I was dead set on making it up to her.
Even if it took the rest of my life.
The moment Lennox gave him the greenlight, Strider took off at a run, veering toward the left at a staggering speed.
She guided the Quarter Horse with expert precision, keeping herself low in the saddle.
He hugged the first barrel without so much as a bump and took off for the second.
Clouds of dust kicked up behind his thundering hooves with each long stride, and at one point I’d lost sight of them completely.
“Come on, killer. Come on!” I yelled as they cleared the second.
I glanced at the clock. Their time was neck-and-neck with the last racer who crossed at 14.
237. Whoever had the fastest time would take it all, and I wanted that for her.
I wanted her to feel fulfilled. To not wonder what she could’ve done when she’d had the chance.
As they rounded the third barrel, Lennox urged Strider into a dead run for home. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, as I watched them fly. Even the crowd seemed to hold their collective breaths as the pair crossed the line.
14.224 flashed across the screen and the entire stadium went wild.