Chapter 29
A very strong, very particular smell assaults our senses when we enter the arena for the Starlight Stampede. It’s a strong mixture of livestock, leather, fear, and adrenaline.
It’s impossible to decipher which is the most potent.
“Where’d Tate go again?” Gabby asks as we follow Ciara to our seats. “Is he going to make it back in time for the rodeo?”
“I’m not sure.” I try to ignore the niggling disappointment that’s been gnawing away at me since he made his abrupt exit after our third whirl on the Ferris wheel.
“One of the coaches called and said they needed him back at the booth for something. He said he’d try to join us here later, but you never know with football. ”
You’d think he was an on-call emergency room doctor with the hours he works and how many fires he’s constantly putting out.
I knew football was important in Celestial, but nothing could’ve prepared me for the amount of calls he’s always fielding.
Add in the home emergencies around town and I don’t know how he manages to keep his head and his schedule straight.
“Oh my goodness! If it isn’t my favorite girls in the whole world.” Pam stands from her seat in the front row and gives me, Gabby, and Millie all hugs before narrowing her eyes on Ciara. “I see you brought my traitorous daughter with you.”
“If I knew you only asked me to judge the pie contest so I’d rig it in your favor, I would’ve said no,” Ciara growls, and I try to swallow the laughter bubbling at the back of my throat.
“I didn’t want you to rig it. I wanted you to be fair,” Pam snaps back. “There’s no way Darla’s basic strawberry pie was better than my bourbon blueberry pie. She didn’t even grow her own strawberries, for goodness’ sake.”
“I hate bourbon!” Ciara throws her hand in the air. “What did you expect?”
“You hate bourbon?” Pam’s perfectly arched eyebrows come together. “I thought that was Tate.”
“No, Mom. It’s me.” Ciara’s hands curl into fists, and I just know she’s grasping at the fraying strands of her self-control. “Silas took me out for my twenty-first birthday and fed me so many shots that I was never able to go near the stuff again.”
“Oh. Well then.” Pam sits back down, her line-free skin flushing red under the harsh overhead lights. “I’ll remember that for next year.”
Ciara looks like she’s about a millisecond away from her head exploding.
“Mrs. Jacobs, did I thank you yet for letting us sit with you?” I ask, hoping to draw her attention away from her daughter. “These are great seats. You must’ve had to get here so early to save them.”
Pam waves me off. “Oh, sweetheart, no. Do I look like a woman who’s desperate to sit in the front row at the rodeo?
” Her twinkly laughter fills the musk-scented air around us.
“Starlight Ridge is the largest sponsor of the Starlight Stampede, hence the name. These seats are one of the many useless perks of shoveling money over. We’ve been sitting here for the last thirty-odd years. ”
“Thirty years is a long time.” Literally my entire life! “You must be so proud that your family plays such an important part in Celestial.”
“Thank you for noticing.” Calvin’s voice booms loud in the enclosed space, and curious heads turn from all directions to see what the commotion is all about. “If you could convince that hardheaded boyfriend of yours of the same thing, I’d appreciate it greatly.”
“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you, Dad.” Silas slides into the open seat at the end of the row and saves me from what could’ve been the most uncomfortable situation of the night. “Ciara and Tate both share the same hard heads. Nothing can get through to them.”
“Just Ciara and Tate?” Pam scoffs and turns wide eyes toward her son. “That’s a long-held Jacobs family trait, and don’t think you’re not included. I’m the only person in our house with any sense.”
“You’re the worst out of all of us!” Silas, Calvin, and Ciara all shout in unison.
“Well, I never.” Pam gasps and holds an offended hand to her chest before turning her attention to me. “You cook, clean, and raise an entire family, and this is how they treat you. I hope you treat your mother better than these three treat me.”
A look of panic chases away Silas’s easy smile. “Why don’t we leave Luna out of this?”
“Nonsense.” Pam waves him off, either not hearing the warning in Silas’s tone or ignoring it completely.
“She’s our neighbor and your brother’s girlfriend.
Luna doesn’t need to be left out of anything.
In fact, when her mom comes to town, I’ll be sure to make my second-place bourbon blueberry pie for her and I’ll tell her all about how much nicer her daughter is to me than my own flesh and blood. ”
Everything Pam is saying is so kind that if I wasn’t so focused on the growing look of horror taking over Silas’s face, I’d want to permanently store her words in my brain.
I can feel Gabby’s concerned gaze on the side of my face. She reaches for my hand, and the familiar touch of her quiet comfort wraps around me like an old quilt.
I squeeze her hand and try to keep my smile from wavering. “That’s so kind of you, but it won’t be necessary.”
“Of course it is,” she says, completely unaware of the shift in the air.
“Mom—”
“Oh, will you stop, Silas?” She swats away Silas’s efforts like it’s one of the flies buzzing around the arena. “It’s going to happen. How else is she going to know Luna is being taken care of? A mother needs to know these things.”
My dry eyes burn in the humid tent as Pam’s well-meaning words slice through my weakened guards.
My mom cared about a lot of things the last few years.
She cared about how much money I could loan her and how fast I gave it to her.
She cared about the liquor store down the street keeping her favorite brand of vodka in stock.
She cared about twisting my words until I never questioned her again.
What she did not care about, though, was whether or not anyone cared for me.
But that is a truth simply too ugly for someone as beautiful as Pamela Jacobs to hear and I can’t let my darkness rub off on her pure soul.
“She would’ve been so grateful for how you and your family have welcomed me in,” I say to her, and the lie glides effortlessly off my tongue as old habits slip into place. “But she passed away earlier this year, so that won’t be necessary.”
“Oh my…I’m so sorry.” Her face falls, embarrassment and sadness crossing her delicate features. “What about your dad? Will he be coming down?”
The inappropriate urge to laugh builds low in my stomach.
“Um…well.” I fight back the instinct to resort to dark humor and struggle to think of a way to give her this information in the gentlest of terms. “He actually passed away too.”
That, apparently, was not it.
“Oh, sweet heavens.” The color drains from her face and her eyes well with unshed tears. “I’m so sorry!”
“No, no, it’s okay.” I wave off her sympathy. “He passed away a long time ago, and you’ve already done more than you know to help after my mom.”
As a society, we’re pretty terrible at discussing grief altogether.
Death comes for us all, and yet it feels like the most taboo topic of all.
There’s so much nobody warns you about in the aftermath of the loss of a loved one, but one of the things nobody ever mentions is how much of your time is spent reassuring other people.
It’s a skill I harnessed a long time ago.
Not many kids had a dead parent in elementary school, and if adults aren’t equipped to handle this conversation, let me tell you, neither are children.
I should be used to it by now, but it never ceases to take me by surprise when it happens.
I’m gearing up to recite the usual platitudes I tell other people when they hear about my past, but then Pam’s long, elegant fingers wrap around my wrist.
“Honey,” Pam whispers, “it’s not okay and that is okay.”
The sincerity in her words throws me for a loop. A funny feeling I don’t recognize tugs at my heart as I try to come up with something, anything, to say.
“Celestial, Texas!” A loud voice that sounds suspiciously close to the person who narrates the football games explodes from the speakers and grants me the mercy I’ve learned not to expect.
“Welcome to the thirty-fourth annual Starlight Stampede! If you’re ready for a night full of some of the most talented up-and-coming cowboys and cowgirls in the rodeo game, then get on your feet and make some noise! ”
Lights flash and the metal steps rattle beneath my feet as everyone in the packed stadium follows his directions.
People hoot and holler, clapping and stomping until the gates at the rear of the stadium push open and two women, decked out head to toe in bright pink, barrel out of the back.
They race around the arena, one waving the American flag, the other holding the Texas flag, and while I’m not sure I’ve self-identified as patriotic in quite some time, it is thrilling to watch.
And even better, all conversations of my dead parents are long forgotten, trampled beneath the manicured hooves of meticulously groomed horses.
We all stay on our feet through the national anthem and something the announcer calls “The Cowboy’s Prayer” only taking our seats when the music starts to play again and our pink queens bid their farewell.
But the reprieve is short-lived before the announcer makes himself known again and introduces the first event.
“I hope y’all are saddled in steady because, boy oh boy, do we have a treat for you on night one of the Starlight Stampede.
” There’s more twang in his voice than at the football games, and I appreciate his commitment to the bit.
“We’ve got tie-down roping up first, followed by bareback riding, and then do we have a surprise for you to kick off barrel racing. ”