Chapter Three
Marina
I watch as the numbers above the brushed-steel elevator doors blink downward in quiet succession.
Thirty-one.
Thirty.
Twenty-nine.
Each chime feels like the world dropping out from beneath me.
I stare at my reflection in the polished doors. My mascara hasn’t run yet, but my eyes have that glassy look they get when I’m trying very hard not to cry.
My accountant was kind, which somehow made everything worse.
“You’ve done better than most athletes who are forced into retiring too soon. You’ve invested wisely and stretched your winnings further than anyone expected,” he said as he looked over the papers in his hand. Then his eyes lifted to me. “But, Marina … the well is dry.”
Dry.
A strange way to describe the end of a life.
The folder tucked beneath my arm suddenly feels like it weighs a hundred pounds. Inside are account balances, spreadsheets, and a list of things I already knew.
Time to sell the luxury condo. Get out from under the pricey HOA. Turn in my leased Mercedes and get an affordable used car. Cut every unnecessary expense. And most importantly, find employment.
Quickly.
I almost laugh.
Since I was six years old, my job has consisted of climbing onto the back of a thousand-pound horse and running cloverleaf patterns.
I won my first buckle before I was old enough to drive. Won my first world championship before I could legally drink. And I won my last one five years ago, at the ripe old age of twenty-one.
My fingers instinctively brush the simple silver horseshoe necklace resting against my collarbone.
Five years since I found out I was pregnant with Ryder. Five years since I climbed off my horse after that final run, smiling for cameras that had no idea they were photographing the last competitive ride of my career.
I had every intention of coming back. Just one season off. Maybe two. But life had other plans.
The elevator slows and stops on the twenty-fifth floor.
The doors slide open, and I barely glance up.
Then I hear a familiar voice.
“Well, I’ll be damned.”
I look up, and my breath catches.
Bryce Raintree fills the doorway—broad shoulders beneath a navy sports coat, dark jeans, and expensive boots. He’s cleaned up since the last time I saw him, but there are still traces of the cowboy who spent years climbing over bucking chutes.
His face breaks into a grin. “Marina Kincade. As I live and breathe.”
The folder nearly slips from my hand as he steps inside, and the door closes behind him.
“Where the hell have you been?”
Before I can answer, he opens his arms, and I step into them. His hug is warm and comforting, in a way he couldn’t possibly understand.
“Bryce, oh my God. It’s so good to see you.”
For one brief moment, I’m eighteen again, standing behind the bucking chutes while Bryce teases me for talking to my mare before every run.
The rodeo family is funny that way. Months can pass. Years even. Then you see someone again, and it feels like no time has gone by at all.
He pulls back, still smiling. “You look—” He stops, and his smile fades. “You okay?”
And just like that, everything I’ve been holding together since leaving my accountant’s office starts to unravel.
I blink hard, willing myself not to cry. Not here, in an elevator. Not in front of my old friend.
But my chin trembles anyway.
Bryce’s expression shifts instantly from surprise to concern. “Hey.” His voice softens. “What’s wrong?”
I shake my head. “I’m sorry. You just caught me on a bad day.” I laugh once, bitterly, and a tear escapes my eye despite my best efforts.
He studies me closely as the elevator continues descending.
“I just came from my business manager,” he says quietly. “I’ve got nowhere I need to be until nine. You want to get a coffee?”
I blink up at him. “Coffee?”
He shrugs. “Yeah. I saw a shop across the street when I arrived this morning. I was just heading there now.”
“I really should—”
“You should have a coffee,” he finishes for me.
I snort despite myself. “I need to get home.”
“Come on. It’ll give us time to catch up. My treat.”
He gives me a big smile, and I glance down at my phone to check the time.
“I guess I could have a quick cup.”
The elevator dings, and the doors open.
He gestures toward the exit. “This way.”
I step out into the busy lobby and follow him.
The coffee shop smells like fresh bread, vanilla, and espresso.
It’s busy enough that no one pays us any attention. Which is nice. There was a time people recognized me. I was never movie-star famous, but in Texas, rodeo famous is close enough.
And Bryce Raintree is still as rodeo famous as they come.
We order two coffees and a pair of breakfast burritos.
Bryce insists on paying before I can even reach for my purse, and we settle into a booth near the window.
We engage in small talk for a few minutes while we eat. Mutual friends. Horses. The circuit. Who’s fallen off. Who’s still competing.
Then I smile. “I watched the finals.”
He raises an eyebrow. “You did?”
“Every ride.”
I wrap both hands around my coffee. “You came so close,” I say empathetically.
He did. He was only a fraction of a point away.
“I’m sorry.”
He surprises me by shrugging. “It’s okay.” A smile tugs at one corner of his mouth. “I was more than happy to pass the crown to Axle.”
I stare at him. “That’s incredibly sportsmanlike. Have you grown soft in your old age?”
Bryce is only thirty, but the man I remember was a fiercely competitive, cocky bull rider with a bad temper. Especially when he lost.
He laughs. “Maybe.” He leans back. “Or maybe I’ve finally figured out there’s more to life than just chasing buckles.”
I look down into my coffee. “That’s easy to say when you’re still living the dream.”
“It is.” There’s no defensiveness in his voice. “No argument there, and I was pretty pissed off a while back, when I was looking at being medically forced to retire, but a lot can change in a couple of years.”
“Ain’t that the truth?” I mutter.
Silence settles between us as his sharp eyes assess me. Finally, he asks the question I’ve been dreading.
“Why’d you leave?”
I sigh. “I guess you never heard.”
“Heard whispers. But no one really knew, and I never listen to rumors.”
I smile faintly. “I got pregnant.”
His eyebrows shoot up. “What?”
“I found out a week after my last National Finals Rodeo in Vegas.”
He blinks several times. “Wow, Marina. That’s … congratulations.”
I blow out a breath. “It was a surprise. I didn’t tell many people. My team and sponsors knew, but that was it.”
I stir my coffee even though I haven’t added anything to it.
“And they didn’t want to announce it?”
“I didn’t. I think I was in shock. They said I was stepping away for the season for personal reasons and left it at that. I planned on coming back after.”
“What happened?”
I smile despite myself. “Ryder happened.”
His face softens immediately. “You’ve got yourself a little boy?”
I nod. “Yeah. He’s four.”
“Four.” There’s genuine delight in his voice. “What’s he like?”
The sadness in my chest eases just enough. “Wild.”
Bryce laughs. “I would’ve been disappointed if he wasn’t.”
“He thinks he’s a cowboy. He lives in boots and a cowboy hat my mom bought for him one of the times she breezed into town. It’s bigger than he is.”
Bryce laughs harder.
“He even sleeps with his boots on. And every stick he finds is somehow a horse.”
“I already like the kid.”
“Yeah. He’s the best thing that ever happened to me.”
The words come out before I realize how desperately true they are. I love my son more than anything. I’d leave the arena a hundred times over for him. Even knowing how everything would turn out.
Bryce’s smile slowly fades again. “And his father?”
I glance out the window. “Gone.”
“Is he what’s got you crying today?”
There it is. The real question.
I take a slow breath.
“Part of it. He’s been gone for a little over a year. He left for a rodeo in Oregon and forgot to ever come back.” I swallow. “Left us in the condo we were living in here in Dallas.”
“Son of a bitch,” he mutters under his breath.
I force a laugh. “I had savings, and I thought I’d be okay.” I shrug helplessly. “We were okay. I’d actually saved most of my winnings from my time on the circuit and made some good investments.”
“Smart.”
“My sponsorship money too.” I look out the window. “I figured it would last longer, and I guess it did longer than most people’s would’ve, but with the bills piling up and without health insurance … my accountant informed me today that the well’s officially dry.”
Bryce says nothing.
“I’ve spent the last year letting people go.” My voice cracks. “My coach. My trainer. My assistant. My housekeeper. My accountant.” I let out a shaky breath. “Today’s meeting was … goodbye. It’s crazy how quickly you can blow through millions of dollars when you aren’t paying attention.”
He nods once.
“But the condo’s on the market. So, hopefully, that will sell quickly, and we can find a place outside of the city. Somewhere small for the two of us with a barn so I don’t have to pay to board Rowdy any longer.”
Bryce smiles. “You still have Rowdy, huh?”
I nod. “We won a lot of races together.”
Rowdy is my barrel horse. My best friend. It would kill me to have to sell him off. He’s family.
“I’m sorry,” Bryce whispers.
“It’s okay. I never really fit in there.
The big, extravagant life was Blaze’s dream, not mine.
I’ll find somewhere cheaper. Quieter. Something more me.
” I laugh weakly. “I have no idea where. I need a job. A real one. The problem is”—I spread my hands—“the only thing I’ve done since I could walk is ride horses and run barrels. ”
He chuckles softly. “The ole rodeo rat dilemma.”
“Yep. I got my high school diploma. But I never went to college. And I don’t have experience with anything but horses.
I don’t have references outside rodeo. I’ve never worked in an office, and to be honest, the mere thought of being confined to a stuffy cubicle causes me to hyperventilate.
” My laugh is humorless. “I don’t even know what I’d qualify for. ”
He watches me quietly.
“So”—I lift one shoulder—“I’m probably going to end up working in a bar or restaurant or something, and I know there’s nothing wrong with waiting tables.
Honest work is honest work. But it feels like standing at the edge of a canyon, looking across at the life I used to have.
And the truth is, I’m scared for the first time in my life. I’ve never been scared of anything.”
“What about racing? You could be back in top shape in no time.”
I nod. “And if it were still just me, I would be on the road tomorrow, but I have a little boy depending on me now, and I can’t.
It would cost a small fortune to get back on the circuit since losing all my sponsors—money I don’t have.
And Ryder will be starting school soon. I can’t be dragging him from city to city, living out of motels.
His father is no help, and my mom is as flighty as ever.
She flits in and out of our lives on a whim.
” The words leave my mouth before I can stop them.
“I’ve never imagined being a single mother. It wasn’t part of the plan.”
Silence.
Then realization crashes over me. “Oh my gosh.” I cover my face briefly. “I’m so sorry.”
“For what?”
“I just dumped my entire life story on you.” I laugh through fresh tears. “We haven’t seen each other in years, you invite me to coffee to catch up, and here I am”—I gesture at him—“burdening you with all my mess.”
He glances toward the window, thinking.
Then he looks back at me. “What’re you doing this weekend?”
I blink. “What?”
“This weekend.”
A watery laugh escapes me. I wipe beneath my eyes with a napkin. “Nothing special.”
“No plans?”
“Not unless drowning my sorrows in a tub of rocky road qualifies as plans.”
He nods once, as though confirming something with himself. “Good. You wanna come to a wedding?”
I stare. “I’m sorry? A wedding?”
He takes a sip of coffee, as if this were the most ordinary invitation in the world. “In Wyoming. You and Ryder. You can hop on the private jet with me on Thursday.”
I blink again. “You run into me for the first time in years, find me crying over my collapsing life, and your solution is … a wedding. In Wyoming. This weekend.”
He nods. “It’s going to be a blast.”