45. Let’s Rodeo
45
LET’S RODEO
WYATT
“ S he’s gonna have to ride ’em hard.”
My eyes slide to the two guys next to me. They blend into the crowd of cowboys with their Wranglers, boots, and cowboy hats.
At least they’re straw this time.
“She will,” I interject, resting my elbows on the metal fence of the arena. “She always does.”
The Granite Falls rodeo is packed to the brim tonight, the air overflowing with the smell of dust, sweat, and manure, and the scout is right in front, waiting for Dakota to ride. Despite the whoops and cheers of the crowd, all I can do is stare at her and Boone, stretching off to the side together.
The sight of her in those fringe chaps and worn boots is making my thoughts veer in a naughty direction, and based on how Boone’s broad frame keeps moving toward her, it seems like he’s having those same damn thoughts.
He keeps reaching out for her leather-clad shoulder, and each time, she shoves him away, her jaw set in a hard line that matches my own. I clench my beer bottle, trying to tamp down this possessive energy in me .
This is Dakota’s big ride, and I’m not going to ruin it with my irrational jealousy. She’s all mine—I know it. Still, it doesn’t mean I like watching another man go after my girl.
“What’s got you scowling like that, son?” Colt grunts, resting his elbows next to mine as people fill the stands. Reaching forward, he steals a sip of my lukewarm beer, wincing. “That’s not the good stuff.”
“They ran out of the good stuff,” I explain.
“Figures.” He sips it again. “Did I tell ya she got matched with Diablo in the draw? It’s that bull that hurt the poor boy, and I’m worried sick about her.”
My stomach drops, and a rush of worry surges through me, but I have to believe with every fiber of my being that she’ll be okay. I tighten my grip on his shoulder. “She'll be fine, Colt. You raised a tough as nails woman. She’s got everything it takes, and then some.”
The worry is still there, but there’s nothing I can do. She’s riding that bull whether I like it or not.
“Yeah,” he agrees, nodding like he’s trying to convince himself. “Yeah, you’re right. She’ll be fine. Let’s talk about somethin’ else. I don’t want to dwell on the negative.”
“Same here.”
Colt scans the rodeo crowd beneath his cowboy hat, earning a few nods of respect from onlookers nearby, but when he spots Boone, his face plummets into a glower that matches mine.
“You scowlin’ ’cause my little girl’s still talking to that prick out there in the arena?” he asks, gesturing to where Boone and Dakota are standing too close for my liking.
I take a long swig of my beer. “You don’t like him either?”
“Never have. Never will,” he grunts, gripping the metal railing. “I had to keep my mouth shut when she wanted to marry him ’cause she had to make her own mistakes to learn. There are some men that’ll be boys until they’re eighty. Boone’s one of ’em. You aren’t. You’ve always been more man than boy. ”
I straighten under his compliment. “Thank you, sir. That means a hell of a lot coming from you.”
“Just tellin’ the truth, son.” He pats my shoulder. “That boy was always a pit-stop, and she knows it. You’re her destination. It just took her a little longer since she took the backroads to get to you.”
I laugh a little. “She should’ve taken the highway.”
“Yeah, but the scenic route always makes for a better story,” he says with a grin, his swagger carrying him away.
I turn to find my family in the bustling crowd. The stands are alive with energy, everyone buzzing with anticipation for the bull riding to start. My chest throbs with pain as Dakota prepares to climb onto the back of a raging bull, strapping on her chaps, dusting off her boots.
The black bull thrashes in the chute, and I hold my breath as I watch her strut up to the metal corral. It never gets easier watching her face off against a bull, and as much as it scares the hell out of me, I can never look away.
Because I’ve always been hers, and this time, she’s mine.
“Get ready,” some guy drawls next to me, nudging his friend. “This one’s gonna be a wild ride.”
“Yeah, all two seconds,” some other asshole says.
“Eight seconds,” I state, ignoring them, even though my heart is thrashing around in my chest like the damn bull. “She’s got this. I know it.”
I repeat the phrase like a prayer, lifting that mood ring to my lips like I do before every ride. I kiss the metal, thinking about the day I got down on one knee and asked her to marry me. She said no, but I promised to keep the ring, and keep it I did.
And once I move back to Texas, I plan to get down on one knee and give it back to Dakota.
“Wyatt! Over here!”
I spot Alanna with my mom, who’s gently pushing Vi in her stroller. I make my way to them and scoop my daughter into my arms. Her tiny hands clutch the stuffed longhorn Dakota gave her weeks ago.
She never lets go of that thing.
We all take our seats on the bleachers of the crowded rodeo stands. Alanna’s sitting beside me, her eyes glued to the arena, and my parents are squeezing each other’s hands, eagerly waiting. We’re all keeping our fingers crossed that she stays on for those eight seconds as we wait for her to ride.
The mustached cowboy next to me leans over to his friend, scoffing, “Twenty says she falls off in the first five seconds.”
Look at that, another asshole.
“Thirty says she only stays on for three,” the other chimes in.
Make that two assholes.
I lean over to them, pulling out the crisp bill I got from the ATM earlier. I hadn’t been to an ATM in over a decade, but I went just for today so I wouldn’t have a repeat of last time. “One hundred says she stays on all eight seconds and then some.”
Lana digs through her Prada purse—which I only know because she made sure to tell me—and pulls out two crisp hundreds. “Make that three hundred on our girl.”
My mom digs into her jeans and adds a twenty. Mama adds her own five-dollar bill, and I’m shocked we’re all carrying cash. But then again, we are a family of poker players. “Make that three-twenty-five.”
I take all the bills and shove them in the cowboy’s shocked face. “Guess we’re going all in.”
Our entire group has matching smug-as-hell smirks as we glare down the mustached cowboy.
He frowns. “You’re willing to go all in on a bet for Kodie Cutler?”
“I’ll always bet on her,” I add, leaning down to kiss Vienna’s cheek. “Isn’t that right, baby?”
She squeals, playing with her fluffy longhorn. I pull Vi to my chest and point out to Dakota, who’s stretching off to the side of the dusty arena with the cowboys.
“You see her, baby?” I whisper into her ear. “That’s the kind of woman I want you to be one day. Strong. Fearless. Soft. Kind. I don’t care what you want to do with your life as long as you go after it with everything you’ve got. Take life by the horns, baby girl. Just like her.”
I plant kisses all over her flushed cheeks and she giggles in my arms. “Dada! Ma!”
Oh, do I love my little girl.
When I first held Vi, I was overwhelmed with the responsibility of being two role models rolled into one—a mom and a dad. I wanted to be everything she needed, but I think Dakota’s right. Just being there when she needs me is enough. I tried so hard to be everything for her that I ended up giving too much of myself away. Now, being back here, I feel like I’ve finally found a part of myself again.
“I told you to give me some space, Boone!” Dakota’s shout pierces the air from the distant arena. My eyes snap to them, catching Boone and Dakota locked in a heated argument, faces inches apart. He grabs her arm roughly, way too rough, dragging her toward the animal trailers and out of sight.
Oh, fuck no.
I jump up from the stands.
“Can you watch Vi for a minute?” I hammer out to my mom, heart pounding. “I need to go check on Dakota.”
“Of course, sweetie.”
I’m on my feet a second later, heading straight for her.