Chapter 29 #2
“Oh! A surprise.” I look at all the Jacobses, assuming one of them must know something, considering the part they play in the rodeo, but they’re all wearing matching looks of confusion.
“Don’t ask me,” Ciara says. “I’m never on the inside of rodeo goings-on.”
Calvin looks equally out of the loop. “I sign a check. That’s the full extent of my participation, and I like it that way.”
It’s not that I hate waiting, I just really love feeling special enough to know what others don’t. It’s why I’m so good at keeping secrets. The more people who know, the less exciting it is.
“Getting us started in the tie-down roping, we have Laramie Walker,” the announcer says, and a group of very scantily dressed girls on the opposite side of the stadium burst into cheers.
“Buckle bunnies.” Ciara answers my unspoken question. “They’re groupies, but for cowboys.”
“Interesting.” I strain my eyes to try to get a better view of their outfits and long curly hair hidden beneath sparkly cowboy hats.
“As a feminist, I try to support women’s rights and wrongs, but I’m having a really hard time understanding the appeal of being this excited for anyone named Laramie. ”
I had a terrible experience visiting a friend at the University of Wyoming. Just the thought of that windy little valley sends shivers down my spine, but who am I to yuck another person’s yum? I love a woman who knows what she wants, and if they like it, then more power to them.
At the other end of the arena, a group of men gather around the cage where one guy sitting atop a horse holds the reins in one hand, a lasso in the other, and has something in his mouth.
“What’s tie-down roping?” Gabby leans over the railing to get a better look at what’s happening. “Does he have something in his mouth?”
“Yeah,” Calvin says. “That’s piggin’ string. The ropers use it to—”
A buzzer cuts through the excited chatter before he can answer and we get to witness firsthand exactly what tie-down ropers do and how piggin’ string is used.
A side gate I didn’t notice until it’s raised opens and an adorable calf sprints out of the corral followed closely by a very determined Laramie.
Excitement flees my best friend’s face and trepidation quickly rushes in as she watches Laramie launch his lasso right around the sweet baby cow’s neck.
She latches on to my hand and we let out matching horrified gasps as Laramie leaps off his horse and sprints to the calf.
He doesn’t miss a beat before picking the cow up, slamming him on his back, and using the piggin’ string to tie three of his legs together.
The crowd goes wild, but I feel like I might be sick.
And if the forlorn expression on Gabby’s face is anything to go by, I’m not alone.
“Fifteen point seven seconds. A season record for Laramie! That’s one heck of a way to start off the rodeo, and with a time like that, he’s sure to give the rest of the cowboys a run for their money.
And speaking of money,” the announcer says, and Silas and Ciara slink down into their seats, “the Starlight Stampede would like to welcome Calvin and Pamela Jacobs tonight. Without their support, this rodeo wouldn’t be possible. ”
Calvin and Pam stand up and wave with the ease of practiced politicians as polite applause surrounds us.
I know they told me they sponsor the event, but hearing and seeing are two different things.
They’re so down to earth, it’s easy to forget not only how much they have, but how important their family is to the community.
Who they are and what they’ve accomplished was created from generation after generation working to build a legacy and provide for family they’d never meet.
It’s a hell of a difference from the pocket change I fell into thanks to dysfunctional family trauma the well-to-do Jacobs family could never even dream of.
I have to quiet the voice inside my head telling me I’m not good enough for them. Telling me to leave them alone before I drag them down to my level.
“This is never not mortifying,” Ciara says through clenched teeth and a forced grin as she waves to the onlookers.
“Just smile and wave, Ci,” Silas says. “Smile and wave.”
“Mortifying?” Pam asks once the rodeo has commenced and all eyes are off her. “How? They aren’t looking at you.”
“Damn, Mom.” Ciara’s mouth falls open and Gabby giggles beside me. “That was harsh.”
“If you think that was harsh, then you didn’t spend enough time with your grandmother.” Pam takes her cowboy hat off and dabs at her hairline with the paisley handkerchief she pulled out of her purse. “That woman would have you in tears. I was the inventor of gentle parenting compared to her.”
Whatever response Ciara was gearing up to say dies on her tongue.
Ciara isn’t one to back down, so this leads me to believe that Pam isn’t exaggerating about their matriarch.
It’s comforting to know not even the regal Jacobs family has it all together, but I’m sure their problems pale in comparison to the absolute mess that consumed my life for years before I moved to Celestial.
I can’t help but feel like every onlooker is trying to figure out how a fraud like me infiltrated the perfect Jacobs family, their stares warning me not to let the stain of my past tarnish their royal family.
The rest of the rodeo flies by in a blur of cringing and gasps and heart-stopping terror.
I can’t believe I ever thought football seemed dangerous before watching this.
Tie-down roping was the worst—I still wince thinking about the way they tossed those calves—but bareback riding was terrifying.
I spent the entire hour convinced I was going to witness somebody’s death.
“So you’re telling me people do this for fun?” I ask Calvin. “Like, you saw this and thought, ‘Absolutely, yes. I’d love nothing more than to tempt death by teasing a mammal that outweighs me by a thousand pounds’?”
“It’s the closest I’ve ever been to god,” he says, quickly amending his declaration when Pam’s heated glare hits him. “After marrying Pam and raising my kids, of course.”
Pam rolls her eyes. “Of course.”
“See, the thing about rodeoing is that it’s not about being perfect, because it’s not up to you.
You see that beauty?” Calvin leans toward me and points to the horse in the corral.
“Once you’re on the back of a horse or bull, it’s all about surrender.
It doesn’t matter what’s going on in the world or if you’re having problems at home.
If you bring that to your horse, they’ll sense it and then you’re done for.
It’s the one place on this earth where the only thing that matters is you and your horse. ”
My lens of this rodeo has been one of brutality and horror, but now as I watch the next man buck into the arena, I try to see it through Calvin’s eyes.
There’s a reverence. A connection to nature and through it, to self.
You still couldn’t pay me a million dollars to do it, but I have a little more appreciation for those who do.
“I see it,” I say. “Thank you, Mr. Jacobs.”
He wraps an arm around my shoulder and pulls me into his side. A small smile softens his hardened face, and for the first time, I see the resemblance to Tate that goes much deeper than appearances.
“You’re welcome, Luna,” he says. “I know Pam is usually the one who leads the welcome wagon at Starlight Ridge Ranch, but I hope you know that despite what those pain in the rear kids of mine try to tell you about me, I’m always around if you need help.”
I don’t know if it’s emotional residue from my earlier conversation with Pam, but something about the sincerity in his voice takes aim at my resolve to stay out of things between him and his children and smashes it to pieces.
“How ’bout them cowboys, Celestial? Let’s give one more round of applause for all the contestants who came out to put on a show for us tonight.
” The announcer leaves room for cheers and whoops of excitement.
“Now, if you thought that was something, then just you wait. Because for the first time in almost twenty years, the two-time junior barrel racing champion, former Mr. Texas Football Player of the Year, our hometown hero, Tate Jacobs, is returning to the arena!”
The ground rattles and my ears ring. You would think by how loud they scream it was announced that Elvis had returned to life and was gracing the crowd with a performance. Everyone is on their feet and clapping their hands.
Everyone, that is, except our little group nestled safely in the confines of the Jacobses’ exclusive seats.
Silas breaks the silence. “Did they just say Tate?” he asks. “As in my brother Tate? Our Tate?”
Hope flashes across Calvin’s face before he fights it back. “It couldn’t be.”
But he’s wrong.
Because it is.
Like something out of my deepest fantasies, the back gates open and Tate charges out on horseback looking every bit the romance hero of my dreams.
Seeing Tate inside the arena might be a surprise, but seeing that he doesn’t exactly fit the mold like the other riders is not. Of course, if Tate was going to return to the arena, he was going to do it his way. And we should all be very thankful.
I know I am.
His long locs hang from beneath his black cowboy hat, bouncing around his chiseled face as the horse he’s riding speeds into the arena.
The white tee he’s wearing molds to his hard body, and his brown skin shimmers under the lights.
He races toward the first barrel, and just when it looks like his horse might run right past it, I watch his horse slow and his shoulders lift higher.
Tate holds tight to the reins, not faltering once as he makes a sharp right around the barrel and sends a cloud of dirt flying into the air.
He explodes out of the turn and races to the next barrel with as much control and confidence as every other cowboy who set foot in the Starlight Stampede before him.
His posture never changes, his focus never falls, and when he completes the cloverleaf pattern around the barrel and gallops across the timer line, he finishes with the third-fastest time of the night.
It’s a fever dream.
I don’t even realize I’m holding my breath until he disappears from the arena. Oxygen crashes into my lungs, and the fire that always seems to burn when Tate is near blooms hot and heavy in my core. My thighs clench together, and I’m afraid if I stand up, my legs might give out from beneath me.
“Holy shit,” Gabby breathes out beside me. “Luna…”
She doesn’t need to expand. “I know.”
I totally get those buckle bunnies now.
Calvin is sitting right beside me, and I try to push away the thoughts of all the things I want to do to Tate while he’s wearing that cowboy hat, but it’s a lost cause.
“Millie asked if I wanted to see her place tonight. I was thinking maybe I’d spend the night with her and we can all meet back up in the morning for breakfast?” Gabby, bless her, suggests.
“No,” I say, but my heart’s not in it. It’s too busy tripping over the man who just trotted away on the back of a horse. “You don’t have to do that.”
“I know I don’t have to, but…” She leans in closer and drops her voice to a whisper. “You’re out of your mind if you think I would ever deprive you of an uninterrupted night with your man after he turned into a freaking cowboy for you.”
I love her for offering, but she flew down to Texas to be with me. I would never want her to think I’m casting her to the side or that I didn’t want to spend time with her.
“I’m not sure. I don’t want you to—”
She cuts me off. “I’m sure and I want to. I won’t hear another word about it,” she says. “Now go get your man.”
She doesn’t have to tell me again.
I say goodbye to Millie and Ciara with promises to meet up for breakfast tomorrow, and after I give Pam a quick hug and one last thank-you for the night, I hurry away pretending I didn’t see the knowing smile that crossed her face.
The rodeo has a few events left, but there’s only one cowboy I want to see when I walk out of the stadium exit.
Scraps of trash and spilled popcorn cover the pathway leading toward the back of the arena, but I feel like I’m walking on sunshine.
Being with Tate is like stepping outside after a winter of cold and darkness and feeling the sun wash across your skin.
It’s like he harnesses the power to brighten my day with a single glance and the ability to turn my world upside down with a touch.
I can’t believe that after the best day, spent with so many people I love, I get to end it next to a man who never fails to go above and beyond to show me how much he cares.
I feel utterly undeserving, but that doesn’t stop me from breaking into a full-fledged sprint so I can be in his arms as soon as possible.
It’s just too bad that shadows roll in as fast as the light.
“Luna!” someone calls from behind me. “Luna,” they say again, but closer this time, something vaguely familiar about the sound of their voice. “Is that you?”
I’m so busy trying to remember where I’ve heard his voice that when I turn around and see his face, I’m too surprised to realize what’s happening.
And for a few blissful seconds, time is my friend, holding me back in a moment where I was happy.
Where the pieces of the fragile life I only just began to put together had yet to come crashing to the ground.
But time doesn’t wait forever.
The peace was nice while I had it. How silly of me to think it would last.
“Jack?”