16. Dawn
Chapter 16
Dawn
T ime passed rapidly. Rodeos were happening one after the other, and I lost some and won some. The money problems were still at the back of my mind, but Richard, Nash’s manager, assured me that the donations were good.
The arena at Ste-Edith’s rodeo ground was alive with energy—dirt flying, hooves pounding, and the crowd’s roar echoing in my ears. I sat on Celine’s back, my hand steady on the reins, my mind focused on the task ahead. It had been days since I competed, but once the gate swung open and Celine surged forward, it was like no time had passed.
Every move was instinctive, every turn precise. I didn’t have to think; I just let the rhythm of the ride carry me. By the time we crossed the finish line, the crowd erupted, and the announcer’s voice boomed over the speakers: First place.
I dismounted, my legs shaking from the adrenaline, and led Celine out of the arena. People congratulated me as I passed, but their voices blurred into the background. Winning felt good—better than I’d expected. It was like reclaiming a piece of myself I hadn’t realized I’d been missing.
Feelings were mixing up in my heart and my head. Proudness took hold of me, a sentiment I hadn’t felt in a while, replacing the usual wariness. But even though I was more than satisfied by my race, the typical stress of not making it, of not being enough, clung to me. The warmth in my abdomen was a funny mix of contentment and anxiety.
As I walked back to the paddocks, I saw Nash leaning against the fence, waiting. He’d shown up like he had so often lately, and the sight of him made me smile.
“You did it,” he said, grinning as he pushed off the fence and walked toward me, arms open.
I shrugged, trying to play it cool, but accepted the hug. His muscular arms were tight around me, and his smell, which reminded me of fallen autumn leaves on the ground, invaded me. I couldn’t help but hold on a little longer, his presence grounding me. “It’s just one rodeo.”
“Don’t undersell it,” he said softly against the top of my head. “You were amazing.”
I moved back reluctantly, reminding myself that this embrace was only friendly. His words warmed me more than they should have. “Thanks,” I said softly.
“You’re the champion,” he added, his tone light and sincere.
I met his eyes and smiled despite myself. “I am.”
* * *
That night, the rodeo was alive with celebration. The big white tent was strung with lights, and the sound of music spilled into the cool evening air. Nash and Easton were playing a set, their voices blending perfectly as they worked through a mix of old favorites and a few of their newer songs.
The crowd was eyeing them, but they seemed to enjoy the ambiance. The benefit concert had been announced in the past week, and it was well-received by the public. People donated, bought tickets for the show, and talked positively about the fundraising.
I sat with Willow and Billie at one of the makeshift tables, nursing a beer and letting the atmosphere sink in. Martha had asked me to come spend the night at the ranch, since she was missing the residents and needed to change her mind. I instantly agreed.
It had been a long time since I felt this at peace. It could be the win, or it could be the way Nash had looked at me earlier, like he believed in me more than I did.
“Come on, Dawn,” Willow said, tugging at my arm. “You can’t sit here all night. Let’s dance!”
I groaned, but she wasn’t taking no for an answer. Before I knew it, she had dragged my sister and me onto the dance floor, where a handful of people were swaying to the music.
“Just follow my lead,” Willow said, spinning me around with dramatic flair. I laughed, letting myself get lost in the moment.
For the first time in what felt like forever, I wasn’t thinking about the ranch, the residents, or the never-ending list of things that needed to be done. I was just... here. The girls and I were scream-singing the lyrics to the well-known success Rebel Rose was playing. It was probably more than necessary since the song was a slow ballad, but we were having fun.
I couldn’t help but steal glances at Nash, who was staring at me from the stage. His dark t-shirt was a tad too small around his arms, and his blue jeans clung to his strong legs. A familiar heat invaded my stomach... It was probably the alcohol working its way through me.
Willow reappeared at our side with shots in her hands. I was so concentrated on undressing Nash with my eyes that I didn’t even notice she had left.
“Here’s to those who wish us well, and all the rest can go to hell,” she toasted, handing me a small plastic cup.
“Let’s celebrate, baby!” she winked at my sister. I saw Billie take the shot like a champion, even if it was probably one of her first times. I kicked mine back rapidly, the alcohol burning my insides as it went down, making my face twist—typical Willow, always down for a good party.
Later, after the boys finished their set and the DJ took over, someone cranked up the music and fired up the mechanical bull. A few people tried it, lasting only seconds before tumbling off. Laughter bubbled out of me as I watched them.
“You’ve got to go, Dawn,” Willow said, her eyes gleaming with mischief.
“No way,” I said, shaking my head.
“Oh, come on! You’re the rodeo princess. Show them how it’s done.” She grabbed my arm and yanked me off my stool. I looked back at our table and saw Nash and Easton joining my sister.
The crowd began chanting my name, and with a sigh, I gave in. Climbing onto the bull, I adjusted my grip on the rope and gave the operator a nod.
The machine jolted to life, and I held on, shifting my weight with every buck and spin. This was a real challenge, but I wasn’t about to let myself fall. Confidence, surely induced by the alcohol, made me throw my hand in a circle above my head, mimicking a lasso.
I felt sure of myself on the machine, and I knew the operator was being kind, making the bull turn a bit slower than usual. I had time to adjust my hips, letting myself slide forward as the bull ducked down. I felt strong, cheerful, and hot despite myself.
I couldn’t quite make out the crowd around me as I spun, but I hoped a particular pair of deep blue eyes was watching.
When the bull finally threw me off, the crowd cheered, and I laughed so hard my stomach hurt. I brushed the dust off my jeans and bowed dramatically, earning another round of applause.
When I looked over, Nash was standing near the edge of the tent, watching me with a warm, steady smile. It tightened my chest in a way I wasn’t sure I wanted to analyze just yet.
My feet moved on their own as I walked up to him, swaying my hips a tad more than necessary. A buzz of excitement ran through my veins.
As I closed the gap between us, Nash didn’t move—just stood there with his hands in his pockets, leaning against the tent post like he had all the time in the world. His brown cowboy hat tipped low enough to shadow his face, but not enough to hide the curve of his lips—that smile. Warm and knowing, like he had seen this before, like he was expecting me.
“Enjoy the ride, princess?” His deep voice wrapped around me, smooth and teasing.
I brushed the remaining dust off my jeans with an exaggerated flick of my hand. “I’d say it was a solid eight seconds. Not bad for my first time, huh?”
“Not bad at all,” he said, straightening up and stepping closer. “Of course, I think you were showing off a little. All that hip action—hard to believe it was just for the bull.”
I raised an eyebrow, pretending to study him like I wasn’t sure what to make of his comment. Deep down, a pleasant, fluttering heat unfurled, each teasing word wrapping around me like a gentle, intoxicating current.
“Oh, you noticed that, huh?”
“Hard not to.” His gaze swept over me, not in a way that felt rude but deliberate, like he was cataloging every detail. “Think the whole tent noticed.”
I laughed, shaking my head. “Careful, Nash. Keep this up, and I might start believing you’re getting jealous.”
He tilted his head, his smile widening just enough to show the hint of a dimple. “Who says I’m not?”
That made my stomach flip, and I hated how much I liked it. Nash was a dirty flirt, but I didn’t want him to stop. “You’re awfully confident for someone who hasn’t even taken a turn on the bull yet.”
“Who says I need to?” he countered, taking another step. We were close enough now that I could catch the faint scent of his jean jacket. “Pretty sure I would’ve lasted more than eight seconds, princess.”
“Oh, is that so?” I crossed my arms, leaning slightly toward him, daring him to keep going. We were walking a tight line together, waiting to see who would fall to the teasing first.
He shrugged, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Anyway, I’ve already won the night. No need for me to show off.”
I squinted my eyes, trying to predict where this was going. Nash was so close now that I had to tilt my head back to look him in the eyes. “I got the best seat in the house watching you ride that bull. And now, I’ve got your attention. I’d call that a win.”
I couldn’t help but laugh, a genuine, bright laugh that felt too big for my chest. “You’ve got a lot of nerve, Nash Rhodes.”
“And you like it,” he said, not missing a beat.
“Maybe,” I admitted, stepping back just enough to let the cool night air remind me to keep my wits about me. “But if you think you’re going to charm your way to a drink on me, think again.”
He chuckled, readjusting his hat on his head. “Oh, I can be a gentleman for one night. I’m the one buying the drinks tonight.”
“Oh?” I smirked, cocking my head. “You sure you can keep up with me?”
“I’ll take my chances,” he replied, his voice dropping just enough to warm my cheeks. “As long as you’re not planning to disappear before I get a dance.”
The way he looked at me, like I was the only thing worth seeing in the entire tent, made my breath hitch. I should’ve been used to his charm by now, but Nash had a way of catching me off guard.
“Alright, cowboy,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant even though my heart was racing. “Let’s see if you’ve still got it.”
He grinned, his expression a perfect mix of challenge and playfulness. “Don’t worry, Princess. I’ve been practicing my dance moves since our first time. I think I’m ready to replace my mop.”
I raised an eyebrow, half-amused and half-nervous, as I followed him to the dance floor. The music pulsed around us, slow and steady, as though setting the rhythm for something more than just the beat.
Nash’s hand settled on my waist with an easy confidence, and for a moment, everything else seemed to fade. His touch was warm, his presence larger than life, pulling me in like a magnet. As we swayed together, he guided me effortlessly through the steps, his grin never faltering. There was a kind of electricity between us, a mix of laughter and closeness that made the room feel smaller and more intimate.
The night wore on with blurring conversations, laughter, and dances. Easton politely talked with Billie, whereas Nash was quieter than usual after our dance together. We exchanged a few words on the dance floor, but most of our dialogue was made of sustained eye contact.
A joyful scream startled me. I turned to my side and saw my best friend approaching the stage as karaoke started. Never one to miss a spotlight, Willow marched onto the stage like she owned it. She grabbed the mic, struck a ridiculous pose, and launched into a salacious country song with more confidence than sense.
Her voice was shockingly good—deep and soulful—but her performance was... a little extra. She twirled and winked at the crowd, throwing in dramatic flourishes that had Billie covering her face and me laughing so hard I had tears in my eyes.
Standing beside us at our table, Easton watched her with a look that was somewhere between impressed and bewildered.
“She’s something else,” I said, walking beside him.
He glanced at me, his lips twitching into a polite smile. “She’s definitely... something. The song choice is also particular,” he added, his eyes lingering, unsure what to make of the situation.
“‘Dicked Down In Dallas’ has been her karaoke song of choice for the last three years,” I added, laughing at the look on his face.
I left him to his analysis and decided to join Willow on stage, taking my sister with me for the next song. My voice was far from perfect, but the night’s fun surpassed my typical stoicism.
By the end of the night, the tent had emptied, but I didn’t want to leave. I didn’t want to go back to reality.
I sat on a tiny white plastic chair at the edge of the dance floor, the string lights casting a warm glow over the empty tables. Nash joined me, sitting close enough that our shoulders brushed.
“Thanks for staying the night,” I said, my voice quieter now. I didn’t know what I was thanking him for—being there? Making my life a bit less stressful? Showing support in a way that I hadn’t even known I needed?
“I wouldn’t have missed it,” he said simply.
I looked at him, the music fading into the background. There was something steady about Nash, something that made me feel like I could let my guard down for once. I let myself wonder what it would be like to always have him at my side, to share my burden with him and not feel so alone in my life.
“Today was a good day,” I said softly.
“It was,” he agreed, his gaze steady on mine.
I held his stare, letting his eyes burn into me. It felt dangerous, like I was playing with fire. And right now, I was a fire-eater.
I got up slowly, walking between his open legs, never breaking our eye contact. Tonight was about fun—about letting go of my stress and anxiety and enjoying the moment.
Nash’s face was serious, the line between his eyebrows deepening as he studied me. I put a hand on his hat and slowly took it off his head before placing it on mine.
This gesture spoke volumes, more than words ever could, especially in the country world. My heart beat at a hundred miles per hour, and I felt dizzy.
He finally broke the eye contact. His gaze slowly moved from my mouth to my neck, my breasts, and down my whole body. I didn’t move as I felt his strong hands pass over each of my thighs and hold the back of them.
“What do you want, Dawn?” His voice was deeper than usual, traveling through me.
Nash’s question lingered in the air, thick and electric. My throat felt tight, and my breath came in shallow, uneven waves. What did I want? The truth was, I wasn’t sure I had the words to explain it right now. Maybe I just wasn’t ready to face it yet.
“I…” My voice cracked, and I swallowed hard, trying again. “I don’t know.”
His hands stayed steady, firm but unyielding as they cradled the backs of my thighs, holding me in place like he was afraid I’d bolt. We were caught in a delicate balance between lust and stalemate.
“You don’t know?” His lips twitched, just barely, like he was fighting a smile. His voice still carried that low, dangerous edge, but there was a softness to it too, like he didn’t want to push too hard. “Then why are you shaking?”
I hadn’t even realized I was trembling until he pointed it out. My legs felt like they might give out any second, my hands resting on his shoulders, trying to steady myself.
“I—” I hesitated, hating the nervousness threatening to bubble over. But Nash wasn’t the type to let me hide. Always so sure of himself.
“Dawn,” he said again, softer this time, his thumb brushing a slow, deliberate circle on my thigh. “Just say it. I need to hear you say it.”
I closed my eyes, letting the weight of his words sink in. I didn’t know if I could take it—not the way he was looking at me, like I was something fragile and fierce all at once. But I couldn’t stay silent either. Not in this moment.
My eyes flicked open, and his gaze was waiting, intense and unwavering. Heat unfurled deep in my lower stomach.
“Nash, I—” A resonant slap echoed in the vast tent, breaking the tension between us.
As I looked above Nash, I saw Willow cursing at a man beside my sister. What the hell was going on?
I didn’t have time to process the last few seconds before I saw Nash in the middle of the brawl, pinning the man to the ground. I didn’t even notice him leaving the chair before me.
I ran to them, hearing a cacophony of shouts, glass bottles breaking, scraping chairs, and bodies slamming. Willow was holding Billie in a tight embrace beside the brawl.
“What happened?” I asked promptly.
“The old bastard grabbed Billie’s ass. Fucking pervert!” Willow shouted in the man’s direction. “Want some action? I’ll give you some!” she added, advancing on the already beaten-up man while taking her earrings off.
“Will, stop it!” I grabbed her arm and pulled her back.
The fight ended as swiftly as it began, with the man’s friends taking him outside the tent and Easton helping Nash back to his feet.
“You alright?” Nash asked my sister, worry in his eyes.
“Yeah, I was just surprised. I don’t even know how it happened. I just passed beside him to reach Willow and…” Billie’s eyes darkened in confusion.
I reached for her, hugging her tightly, trying to comfort her. These types of men were disgusting.
“Come on, let’s get out of here,” I finally said, guiding the girls out of the tent. I eyed Nash over my shoulder, the events of the night unraveling in my mind.