Chapter 21 - Weston
Weston
Well, it was out there. The world now knew I was retiring and wrapping up my eighteen-year career with a final ride in ten days.
It’d only been three days since I told Austin, and it still hadn’t sunk in all the way.
I bounced between knowing in my gut it was the right decision and regret mixed with fear.
And that gnawing, crushing pit in my stomach feeling was not something I expected to feel right now as I slid into the chute.
It’d been seven weeks since I rode, the longest I’d gone since I was twelve.
I expected to feel the same rush of adrenaline, the excitement, the sense of purpose, I felt every time I rode.
But I didn’t.
Now, I just wanted to get off.
That wasn’t an option, though. I had to practice for my final ride. At least this once to get the nerves out. I refused to let my last time on a bull in front of a crowd be anything less than my best.
I still technically had five weeks before I was healed enough to be doing this, but what Matt didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. So here I was, a few towns over in Copper Creek at a practice arena, more scared than twelve-year-old me who would’ve sold his soul to get on the back of a bull.
I shook off the unease and nodded. The gate flew open. My heart seized. My bones rattled with each buck. My muscles ached with the strain to hold on. It’d only been seconds, and I was exhausted. Where was the rush? The high that always hit at this point? The pride?
“Shit, shit, shit,” I hissed under my breath as I clung on for dear life, counting the seconds in my head. Three… Four… Five…
I bailed at six seconds, managing a dismount that didn’t land me on my ass. Or worse, my shoulder.
I couldn’t catch my breath, each one harder than the last. “Jesus Christ,” I panted, looking up at the overcast sky. It felt harder to bounce back than any other time before.
And there was the final sign I didn’t know I needed, that it was time to hang it up.
“You good, Mr. Tate?” the kid working the chute asked.
“Weston,” I grunted, taking the water bottle he offered me. “I’m fine. Thanks, kid.”
“That was awesome!” he said, looking at me like I was his version of God. I winced. Normally, that kind of idolization made me proud, but I just wanted to point him in the direction of someone else.
“My balance was off. Leaned too far back. Got off too early,” I murmured, draining half the water.
His smile faltered. “Still. I’ve never seen you ride in person before. Glad I could before you retired. Do you have any advice?”
“Don’t ever let your focus slip,” I said, clapping his shoulder as I went over to the fence. It was common-sense advice, but advice everyone needed to hear. I was proof of what could happen if it wasn’t followed.
A familiar face was propped against the fence, giving me a smirk that got us an ungodly amount of free drinks while touring.
Clay Blackwood was the actual playboy of Pbr that everyone made me out to be, never sticking with the same girl for longer than one night.
We’d been friends for years and grew up training together.
And with me out of the way, he’d be moving up to the number six slot.
“You don’t look like a man excited for his final ride.”
I huffed a laugh. “Is anyone?” It was heartbreaking. Bittersweet in a way I hadn’t expected.
“Fair enough.” We clapped hands, reaching in for a hug. “How’ve you been?” He texted a few times since the accident to check in, and I was grateful for it.
“Hanging in there best I can. You?”
“You know me, making the most of every day,” he said with a wink that made me sad. I’d miss keeping him in line on tour. “Know what you’re gonna do next yet?”
I pulled my vest off and draped it over the fence. “Was thinking about training. Maybe judging, but don’t know that I want to be on the road anymore.” The thought of being away from Sav for any amount of time after all the years we’d lost already felt like a sucker punch to the gut.
“Why don’t you just do it at that Golden Circle place?”
I turned to him fully then. “What?”
“Your family owns one of the ranches merging together, right? Why don’t you just run classes out of there? Might as well with all the other shit y’all got goin’ on over there,” he said with a chuckle, taking a swig of water.
I straightened off the fence, my mouth parting, speechless. Holy fucking shit. He was right. Why hadn’t I thought of that?
“Not a bad idea,” I murmured, thinking it over. I didn’t even know if it was a possibility, but now that he planted the idea in my head, I was determined to at least run it by everyone.
I made plans to grab drinks with him soon, signed a few things for the arena owner and the staff, and rode back to Wild Creek with my mind in overdrive.
“We are on our honeymoon, you know,” Colt said, peering into his camera. He and Britt were sprawled out on oversized lounge chairs in the shade on some tropical beach I forgot the name of.
“I know, sorry,” I said, “but this is kind of urgent ranch business.”
Savannah frowned at me, confused. I hadn’t even run this by her yet, too excited about it.
I just stormed inside the Hayes house, gave her a kiss, and told her and her siblings to meet me here in ten minutes.
And now we were all gathered in the living room with Colt, Britt, Anna, and Joseph on FaceTime.
“So I went to practice today, and I was talking to a friend of mine about me retiring, and—”
“First off,” Savannah interrupted, “how was practice?”
“It was fine. I’ll tell you more about it later.
” I didn’t want everyone else knowing I kind of freaked out initially.
I shifted on the couch, looking at the group.
“So I was talking to him, and he asked me what I was doing next. I told him that I was thinking about training or coaching or judging, but wasn’t really sure.
That I didn’t want to be on the road all the time—”
“Should I cancel my date for tonight, or is there a point to this story?” Delilah rolled her eyes.
I shot her a glare. “I want to know what y’all think about me training riders. Here. At Golden Circle.”
“What?” Claire and Beau asked at the same time, their eyes wide. They were so in sync, it freaked me out sometimes.
After a beat of heavy silence where everyone just stared at each other, I said, “I just want to know if it could even happen space-wise.”
“I’d front the cost of it,” I added in case that was a concern. I looked over at Savannah. “I know I should’ve talked to you about it first since it’d be a lot of money, but…yeah.” I didn’t really have an excuse for it besides pure excitement.
She rested her hand on my knee. “If it’s what will make you happy, then I want you to do it. It’s your money to do with however you want.” She’d been so supportive these last few days. I needed to do something for her, show her how thankful I was for all of it.
“You definitely have the pull and name to bring in clientele, that’s for sure,” Joseph said. “So making a profit wouldn’t be an issue.”
“I think it’s a good idea,” Colt said with Brittany nodding beside him while sipping on a coconut.
“I do, too,” Tess said from the floor with Luke and Delilah. “It’d be easy for you to spread the word with all your connections.”
“Might as well pack as much shit as we can onto this land Savvy is fighting so hard for,” Emmett added with a subtle smirk. “It’d sure piss the Hollises off, and I’m all for that.”
Delilah snorted. “I think we all are.” Everyone chuckled in agreement.
“I think it’d be really great for you, Weston,” Anna said. “And I already know one prospective student.” She pointed the camera at Henry, and pride swelled in my chest.
My heart raced as I looked at Claire and Beau. While we all owned shares in Golden Circle, it still felt somewhat like this was their show, their baby, and that meant they had the final say.
“We’ll already have the arenas,” Claire thought aloud to Beau while he stared at me from across the room.
“Even if we didn’t, I’d build them for you,” he told me with a hint of a smile. Something soft, loving, and prideful that tore me up in ways I hadn’t expected.
A shaky breath left me at the realization that we all just decided on my future together. As a group.
A family.
They weren’t mine by blood, but they certainly were by love. Each and every one of them had been here for me through some of the worst times of my life, and I could never repay them enough, but this was a start.
I turned to Savannah. My girl. My sun. My true north. “I guess that settles it then,” I rasped, my throat tight with emotion.
She smiled, stroking the apple of my cheek. “Guess so.”
For the first time since my accident, I wasn’t afraid of leaving the circuit, wasn’t paralyzed with fear of losing my identity, because I knew these ten people who knew me best would never let that happen.
And suddenly, I couldn’t wait for my future to begin.