Chapter Forty-Six
Jovie
I watch the practice from the rail of the outside arena, one foot hooked on the bottom rung while I lean my forearms across the top. The afternoon sun beats down on the dirt. Dust hangs in the air after every run, drifting lazily across the pasture beyond the fence.
My lunch break technically ended five minutes ago, but the clinic can survive without me for a little longer.
A steer bursts from the chute and takes off across the arena. The steer wrestler explodes from the box after it, horse stretching into a dead run. On the opposite side, Axle rides as the hazer, matching the steer stride for stride.
Even from here, I can see how naturally he moves in the saddle. Like horse and rider are an extension of each other.
The student reaches the steer, but mistimes his approach.
“Too far back!” Royce yells.
The steer darts away, and the run falls apart.
Royce shakes his head and motions the student back around. “Again!”
I smile despite myself.
Royce is a tough coach and has absolutely zero patience for half-assed effort.
The student circles back while Royce explains the technique.
“The setup starts in the box,” he says loudly enough for everyone gathered around to hear. “You wait for the steer to get its head start. Don’t break the barrier, or you’ll eat a ten-second penalty.”
The kid nods.
Royce points toward Axle. “Your hazer keeps the steer running straight. That’s his whole job. If the steer starts dodging all over the arena, you’re screwed before you ever get beside it.”
Axle grins. “Nice pep talk, brother.”
Royce ignores him. “When you get alongside the steer, you slide off the right side of your horse. Right arm hooks the right horn. Left hand grabs the left horn.”
The student mimics the motion.
“You don’t stop the steer with muscle,” Royce continues. “You absorb the momentum. Dig your feet into the dirt. Guide him into a slide.”
The kid nods again.
“The takedown comes from leverage. Turn the head. Break the center of gravity. Pull across your chest and use your body weight.” Royce demonstrates with his hands. “When all four legs point in the same direction, throw your hands up. That’s when the clock stops.”
The student takes a deep breath. “Got it.”
Royce snorts. “No, you don’t. But you’re about to learn.”
I laugh quietly.
Beside me, someone steps up to the fence.
“There’s something about a man on the back of a horse.”
I glance over.
Shelby is standing there with her arms folded across her chest.
I grin.
“Getting ready for your barrel riding demonstration?”
She sighs dramatically. “If Royce ever lets that poor boy out of the arena.”
A second later, another voice joins us. “I wholeheartedly agree.”
Charli steps up beside Shelby. Her gaze is locked on the arena.
“With what?” Shelby asks.
“There’s nothing sexier than a man on the back of a horse.” She smirks as her eyes slide to me. “Except one on the back of a bull.”
I chuckle as I glance toward Axle.
He’s turning his horse around, hat pulled low, broad shoulders stretching beneath his shirt. My stomach does a stupid little flip whenever I look at him.
“Yeah,” I admit, “I agree.”
Shelby snorts. “Damn, she’s got it bad.”
“Very bad,” Charli says.
I roll my eyes.
After a moment, Shelby nudges my shoulder. “How are you doing? After everything.”
I know what she’s really asking. She wants to know about me and Cabe.
I look toward the distant mountains. “I’m okay. It’s hard, getting the silent treatment from Cabe.”
The words are hard to swallow. I’m used to talking or texting with him every night, sharing about our days. But since our heart-to-heart on the front porch, I’ve given him space.
“He won’t even look at me half the time when we run into each other around the academy.”
Neither of them speaks right away; they love Cabe and Axle, too, and I’m sure they are conflicted about how to handle the situation.
“Yeah, he’s still pretty pissed at Royce and me,” Charli says.
My throat tightens.
“I hate all of this. Axle doesn’t say much about it,” I continue. “But I know it’s killing him too.”
The brothers have always been close, and knowing that I’ve caused this rift between them guts me. What happened in the barn didn’t just hurt Cabe and Axle. It hurt all three of them.
Shelby sighs. “I still can’t believe I didn’t see it.”
I glance over as she shakes her head.
“I’m normally so observant.”
Charli snorts and points at me. “I don’t know either because the way she looked at him”—then she points toward the arena—“and the way he looked at her …” She brings her hand up to fan herself.
I feel my cheeks warm.
“There was no hiding it. I still can’t believe Cabe didn’t figure it out sooner.”
Shelby shakes her head, and her smile slowly fades. “I feel terrible.”
I look over at her. “Why?”
“I was encouraging Cabe.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“I kept telling him to keep the faith.” She watches the arena. “I thought things would work out between you two one day.”
I don’t know what to say. Because for so long, I thought that too.
“I honestly thought you were each other’s endgame. I know it sounds cliché for your first crush to be the one.”
Charli snickers. “But Waylon turned out to be yours,” she quips.
“Yeah, he did.”
For a moment, I watch Axle canter across the arena. Dust rises behind his horse. Sunlight flashes off his buckle. And suddenly, I remember all the reasons I fought this. All the reasons I tried not to fall for him. The reasons that didn’t matter in the end.
“I thought we were too,” I admit. “Until Axle kind of snuck up on me.”
Shelby and Charli both look at me.
“It caught both of us by surprise. I didn’t even think he liked me very much. All these years I’ve known him, he’s just sort of looked past me or, at most, grunted at me.”
Both women burst out laughing.
“What?” I ask.
Charli actually wheezes. “Honey, that man has looked at you like you’re the last piece of pie at Sunday supper for months. He’s just always grumpy,” Charli says.
“Since the day he was born,” Shelby agrees.
Charli points a finger at me, and a smug smile spreads across her face. “None of this would have happened if I hadn’t moved him into the cabin beside yours. Right?”
I nod, and she spreads her arms.
“You’re welcome. Even though I didn’t realize I was playing matchmaker at the time, I’m definitely taking credit for it at your wedding.”
I choke on my own laugh.
Wedding. I catch myself liking the sound of that—someday.
I shake my head while she continues grinning like she’s already planning her speech.
The arena erupts in cheers, bringing our attention back to the action. The student finally gets a decent run. Not perfect, but much better than the last two attempts.
Royce nods his approval, and the kid practically glows.
Then Shelby glances at me. “How’s Axle healing?”
I roll my eyes. “According to him?” I scowl and deepen my voice. “He’s fine.”
The truth is, the injuries still worry me—the broken ribs and how easily he dismisses the pain, pretending it doesn’t exist, as if acknowledging it is a sign of weakness.
A commotion pulls our attention back to the arena. The student misses again. The steer jerks away, and before anyone else can move, Axle swings off his horse.
My breath catches as he jogs past the student, takes hold of the steer’s horns, and demonstrates the positioning. Shows him where his feet need to go and where his weight should shift while the boy watches carefully.
Charli notices, and she follows my gaze. Then slowly gestures toward the arena. “Well, he does look fine.”
I groan, and she bumps her shoulder against mine.
“You’re gonna have to grow a thicker skin.” She points toward Axle. “That man is built like a brick house.”
I bury my face in my hands.
When I look back toward him, Axle is still helping the student, and once he’s finished, he clasps the back of the kid’s head and playfully shoves him back toward his gelding.
Sunlight catches the edges of his dark hair beneath his hat. And for a moment, I forget everything else.
Charli’s voice softens beside me. “If you’re going to love a rodeo cowboy”—I glance over, and her teasing expression is gone—“especially a bull rider, you’re going to have to learn to trust him when he says he’s okay.”
I sigh. “I know.”
She smiles gently. “I mean, really believe him, Jovie. Because if you don’t, you’ll drive both yourself and him crazy.”
I watch Axle turn and head back toward his horse.
“He’ll always scare you a little,” she continues, “and he’s gonna get hurt from time to time, but he’ll climb back on anyway. That’s who he is.”
My eyes stay fixed on him. “I know,” I mutter.
Charli smiles. “Just remember, you’ve already done your part to keep him safe.”
I look at her. “What part?”
Her gaze shifts toward Axle, then back to me, and her expression gentles. “You’ve given him something to love more than himself—something to live for.”
My throat tightens as her words settle over me because somewhere along the way, he became that for me too.
As if he feels me watching, Axle glances toward the fence, and our eyes meet across the arena.
His face softens. Then one corner of his mouth lifts, and he winks at me before swinging effortlessly back into the saddle.
And somehow, despite everything that’s happened—despite all the complications, hurt feelings, and uncertainty ahead—watching him look at me like that makes one thing feel absolutely certain.
I wouldn’t change a thing.
Not a single thing. Because in the end, it’s all worth it. Even the worry about him getting stomped by a two-thousand-pound bull is worth it just to see him look at me like that.