Chapter 41
Trey
Pendleton, Oregon
Iset my hips to my rope, leaning my head toward my left shoulder, throwing my free arm down to get the weight on my left leg after this bull belly rolls for the third time.
He takes one more jump and hits in his left lead.
I feel my hips slide into the center of the spin—the well—as he turns back to the left.
I look to the outside of the spin trying to wait for him to pick my hips up, but he drifts away from me and decides he’s going to drag his ass to finish me off.
I fall all the way into the well, but my hand is stuck in my rope.
I throw my free arm over his neck attempting to avoid taking a horn to my facemask.
Son of a bitch. Why does this keep happening?
I stay there as he does another round, trying to hook me. The bull fighters rush to grab his attention. It works—he moves toward a bull fighter, and I manage to stay on my feet, but I still get kicked in the leg once as I reach for my tail.
The other bull fighter jumps in to do the same. He finds my tail, yanks it, and breaks the bind, freeing my hand. I hit the dirt and run for the chutes.
The bull fighters step around the angry creature, and he makes a beeline out of the arena. I pick up my rope and thank the boys who saved me from what could’ve been a nasty wreck and limp out of the arena.
By the time I’m back to my gear bag, the charlie horse in my leg is calming down. I grab my phone and see I have one missed call from Kacey.
That was fast. She didn’t even give me a chance to text her and tell her I was okay. I look over and see Knox is packing his gear. “Your girlfriend already called me. That wasn’t even that bad.”
His head snaps up, brow furrowed. “I mean, it would’ve been better if you let go, but yeah, that’s weird.”
“I opened my hand, asshole. It was welded in there; I hate losing my rope, and I need to win every dime right now.”
“One of these days you’ll keep your rope and lose your teeth.”
I brush him off and tap her contact as he joins me.
“Hi, Trey.”
“Hey, Kacey. I’m fine, just a little charlie horse.”
“I’m glad. It looked rough, but that’s not why I called.”
“Okay. What’s up? Calling to complain about Knox again? You know I’m always here to listen.”
Knox scoffs.
“Unfortunately, no,” Kacey says. “I’m calling about Jessie.”
“Is she okay? Did something happen?” I’ve been so worried about her, I’ve hardly slept or eaten. Three more weeks—I need three more weeks on the road, then I can head back to Colorado.
“She’s as okay as she can be. The funeral is tomorrow, and I’m worried about her. She isn’t crying . . .”
I wait for her to say more, but she doesn’t. Jessie is tough. It doesn’t necessarily surprise me she’s putting on a strong front through all of this. I’ve seen her cry, but it takes a lot, and she always fights it. “I’m sure she’s sad and just trying to process.”
“She cried at the hospital, but since then she’s been almost robotic.
It’s not just the fact that she hasn’t cried, though.
She won’t talk to me or let me help her.
She isn’t sleeping and barely eats. We’re all worried about her.
I thought maybe you could get through to her .
. . be there for her . . . ” She trails off.
I rub the back of my neck. “Kacey, I’m not sure that’s a good idea. I called her twice that day. She didn’t pick up or call back. Things didn’t end well between us.”
“She had her phone off all day; she probably never got the notifications. I don’t know what happened between you two.
She won’t talk about it, but I know she let you deeper into her life than she let anyone else.
She misses you, Trey. And I hate to ask it, but maybe you should come back for one day.
I don’t think she’d slam the door in your face. ”
I scrub my hand down my face. I want to fly back; I’ve wanted to since the moment I heard Dot passed. But I’m not as convinced as Kacey. There is a good chance Jessie will slam the door in my face.
So what if she does? It’ll suck, no doubt about that, but at least I will have tried.
I would rather show her I wanted to be there for her than fall short if she needed me.
Turning out of one rodeo and jumping on a flight is an easy decision.
Letting Jessie grieve alone has been killing me—I’ve thought about her every day.
I’m still struggling myself to come to terms with the fact that Dot is gone; it has to be a hundred times worse for Jessie.
“I’m really worried about her, Trey.”
“Okay, I’ll book a flight. I might not be able to make it in time for the funeral, but I’ll come see her.”
“Thanks, Trey. I’ve never seen her like this. She’s scaring me.”
She hangs up, and I book a flight on my phone before I finish packing my gear.
My flight was delayed. Dot’s late-morning service is graveside only. A small group of people gather around the grave, and I don’t want to disturb the service by joining ten minutes late. So, I stand back and watch.
A few of the pastor’s words float on the breeze in my direction. “Dorothy and Edward moved to town after the war and became active, vital members of the community.”
Jessie faces away from me, but I can see the tension in her shoulders.
She stands perfectly still in her black dress pants and light-purple top.
Kacey’s on one side of her and Cody’s on the other, but she doesn’t reach out to either for comfort.
I get my first glimpse of her face when she lays a lavender rose on the coffin.
Fuck.
Kacey was right, it’s not just the dark circles that have me concerned. It’s the numb look on her face. I can tell she’s sad, but she’s fighting it so hard she doesn’t look like she’s feeling anything at all.
The service ends, and people give Jessie their condolences before dispersing back to their cars. Kacey and Cody are the last to leave. I see them hesitate, but whatever Jessie says must convince them to leave her be.
I wait several minutes while she stands at the still-open grave. Workers patiently wait at the edge of the cemetery, ready to finish the burial.
My eyes burn for the first time today as I make my way to the grave. Jessie stands quietly, fists clenched. I tuck my hands into my pockets as I approach.
The dry grass crunches beneath my feet.
“I told you I’m fine, Kacey.”
“You going to lie to me, too?”
Jessie whips around, wide-eyed.
“I hope it’s okay that I’m here. I couldn’t go another day without seeing you. And I’d like to say goodbye to a good friend of mine.” I take a step past her, putting me closer to the gravesite.
Loving wife, mother, and grandmother, the headstone reads, but to Jessie she was more than that, she was everything good and kind in the world—and now the world feels dimmer without her.
Seeing Dot’s service, her grave—the finality of her death hits me hard.
I’ll never get to hear another story about her and Edward, never share another rodeo tale with her.
Dot’s gone, and even though I only knew her for a few months, my chest aches with the grief at the thought of never getting to see her again.
“Damn it, Dot. We had plans.” I sniff.
“Trey,” Jessie’s voice cracks behind me.
I turn and see her lip trembling. “Come here, baby.”
She launches at me, and I wrap her in my arms. Sobs wrack her body, the grief coming off her in waves. I hold her as she finally lets it all out.
“I–I d–didn’t get to say g–goodbye,” she cries.
“I’m so sorry. She loved you so much, and she knew you loved her back.”
“What do I do? I don’t know what to do.”
I rub her back and kiss the side of her head. How do I answer that? She lost the most important person in her life. “I don’t know. But one day at a time, and you’ll figure it out. You have so many people who care about you, Jessie. Let them be there for you.”
She nods, holding me tighter.
When her crying turns to silent tears, I kiss the top of her head. “Come on, let’s go home.”
I feel her body relax, letting go of all the tension she’s been carrying for days.
I tuck her beneath my arm and walk toward my rental car. I’ll text Kacey to have someone get her car. I can’t believe she drove herself here in the first place.
Stubborn woman.
It’s a silent ride back to the house, and I’m worried now that she’s calmed down, she won’t want me here, but she takes my hand in hers and leads me inside, straight to the couch.
I’m right back where I belong, as her crash landing pad. Her shoes go flying before she lays her head on my chest. We don’t talk.
I hold her, and she cries more until her breathing slows, and she falls asleep in my arms.
“Two burgers with fries and milkshakes, please.”
The girl behind the counter at the cafe hands me a plastic sack with the to-go boxes.
I pick up both shakes and hustle back to the house. I didn’t want to leave Jessie alone, but we need to eat, and she had no food in the house. Another concerning sign. Jessie always has groceries to cook with, and I’m sure people have offered to bring food over.
I close the back door quietly behind me in case she’s fallen back asleep.
She slept in my arms for almost two hours, but she was still exhausted when she woke.
I set the food on the counter as she rounds the corner into the kitchen.
She changed into sweats and braided her hair over her shoulder. Her eyes are puffy; nose red.
“Strawberry or chocolate?” I ask, holding up the shakes.
“Chocolate,” she murmurs, grabbing a to-go box and heading for the table.
I sit across from her and start eating. I watch her take a drink of the shake and pick at her fries, but she isn’t eating.
“Jessie, please eat something.”
Her hazel eyes look up at me. Nothing but pain and sadness shine within them, but she picks up her burger and takes a bite.
I dip a fry in my shake and think about the time she and Dot gave me so much shit for doing it.
One of my favorite things about Dot was she could dish it just as well as she could take it.
Her quick wit and borderline dirty jokes always made me laugh. Jessie is so much like her.
A sniffle brings me out of my memories. I look up to find Jessie setting her burger back in the box, tears running down her cheeks.
“Shit.” I jump up and round the table to squat next to her. I hold her face in my hands and wipe her tears with my thumbs, but that only makes them fall harder.
Dinner is over.
I pick Jessie up and carry her back to the couch.
My shirt is quickly damp with her tears again. Witnessing her grief is tearing me apart inside, but this is what she needs. She has to grieve, let it all out.
When the tears slow, she says, “You should be at a rodeo. You haven’t made the finals yet.”
“I’m right where I need to be. I don’t give a fuck about the finals right now. Besides, I hear they’re having it again next year.”
She hiccups a laugh at that.
I manage to get her to eat half her burger and most of her fries after I warmed them up. We drink our half-melted shakes and turn on a movie.
Jessie snuggles into me.
I breathe in her vanilla scent, combing my fingers through my hair, soaking in the feeling of home. We’re brokenhearted and surrounded by loss, but feeling her burrow into my hold heals a part of me.
Don’t worry, Dot. I’ve got her.
We’re tucked in her bed later, her back to my chest when she whispers, “This doesn’t change anything, but thank you for coming.”
“I know.” I kiss the top of her shoulder. I wish it did, but I knew it wouldn’t. This was one weak moment for both of us. One more time I get to hold her. Even though one more time will never be enough.