Epilogue | Colson
“This is such bullshit!”
I should hold back my amusement, but I chuckle. Cursing coming out of someone so small and young shouldn’t be so cute, but here I am, watching as the sixteen-year-old girl dusts off her chaps and huffs out a breath of frustration.
Matt and Harlow wrangle the bull together—him on foot, and Harlow on her horse, Alaska—to get him out of the practice pen and back to the few guys I have hired.
I used to bring in a temporary team when I was gone all the time competing in the Pbr or in the summer months, but now I have an all-year-round crew to help me keep up with all the shit I have going on.
It’s good shit, but I could never do this all by myself when I want to give it my all.
Never did I think full-time coaching would turn into a business of raising bucking-bull stock on the ranch, but here I am, loving every minute of it.
Not only does it make it easier having my own bulls when my clients come to practice on the ranch, but I’m damn good at knowing what both the rider and bull need to push them to their fullest potential in this sport.
Now, I am a contractor supplying bulls to the local rodeos around Chattanooga and other parts of Tennessee, and it feels so fucking good to know that I’m waking up every day eager to soak in every moment of this life.
Don’t get me wrong, starting was hard, but with Harlow by my side, Matt and my parents’ support, and the connections I’ve made from my long years as a professional bull rider, I knew every bump and setback would be worth it.
Like now, when I have a young girl glaring daggers at me. A bright, talented young rider who’s doubting her abilities. But I don’t.
At first, I had self-doubt that I would be a good coach, but Harlow was always there, looking up at me with those big blue eyes that obliterate any trace of doubt, because she sees all of me. And she always tells me that she was my first, and to look at how well she’s done.
That’s all it takes.
One look and praise from my stunning wife, and I’m reminded that anything is possible, because despite all the odds stacked against us, we made it.
After a visit to the Big River Rodeo for a second consecutive year, we saw Calli and her mother again, and I instantly knew I was ready.
I approached them, Calli going all gooey-eyed for my wife again, like she did the year before when they first met.
I don’t blame her; I look at Harlow the same way.
But then I offered to coach Calli, and the squeals and excitement that burst out of her earned me a spot on her list of favorite people.
I wear that title with pride now.
“Calli, you’ve only been at this for six months. Give yourself a break. Even the best riders had to work, train, and push themselves to get where they are. We have grit in our core and dust in our veins. That’s what sets us apart.”
From under the shadow of her helmet, I see her blow out a breath. She crosses her arms over her chest. “Not me.”
Harlow and Matt are near the chute, chatting away as I have this moment with one of my athletes. I have ten more riders in the area I work with throughout the week. Aside from them, I still have a long list of queries in my inbox.
My brows furrow. “Why do you say that?”
She takes off her helmet, her hands gliding down her dark-brown signature braids. Her head tips toward the ground. “Because all the boys in my high school league tell me so. They say I started too late, and I’ll never catch up.”
I crouch before Calli so I can peer up at her. “Do you believe them?”
She kicks at the dirt with the toe of her cowgirl boot. “I don’t know.”
“Calli.” Her brown eyes meet mine, and I see the truth lingering there. “Do you believe them?” I ask her again.
“No. I know I can do it.”
“Then that’s all that matters. People will always project their doubts onto you.” I point at her chest. “But in the end, what matters is that you always believe you can.”
When I lower my hand, sunlight shimmers off the sunflower charm and catches my eye.
Lowering my hand to my lap, I run my fingers along the worn braided leather.
Flipping my wrist over, I loosen the knot that has kept it bound to my arm since I made it the same week I lost Paisley, so I could always carry her with me.
“Even when the dust settles, I will still be here.”
She was right all those years ago. Our birthday was the last time I saw Paisley, right before Harlow found me breaking in the middle of our old practice arena.
Strangely, I feel at peace as it falls off my wrist. “I want you to have this.”
Calli’s eyes roam over it curiously. “Your bracelet?”
I turn over the leather in my hand. “It’s not just any bracelet.” I grip a worn, fragile section of the braid. I rip it, and Calli’s eyes widen as she watches me take it apart and untangle the necklace I wove with the leather.
I hold it up, so she sees it hanging from my fingers in its true form. “When I was around your age, there was this girl bull rider I used to know.”
Her eyebrows shoot up. “Harlow?”
I shake my head. “Her name was Paisley. She came before Harlow.” Her head tilts as she listens to me, the bright spring sun glistening off the sheen of sweat on her face from the last hour of practice because she’s been working her ass off.
I see how hard she wants this. “Paisley was fearless. Determined. Unbelievably strong in ways I wasn’t.
She had some hard falls in her career, but she’d still get up.
She’d keep pushing on because she knew she was capable of great things. ”
She swallows. “Really?”
My gaze hooks onto the sunflower charm dangling, the soft green fields rolling as a backdrop. Someday, when Calli’s old enough, I’ll tell her what really happened to my sister, my twin, but for now, she only needs to know the important parts.
The beautiful and precious things she’ll always be remembered for.
“I’ve always carried this piece of her because it’s always a reminder that, even if it takes time”—over a decade—“I can overcome hard things.” I look back up at her, giving her a soft smile.
“The ride is never easy, Calli, but each moment, each doubt, each hard-earned lesson that you conquer is a win on its own. That’s what grit is.
And if you decide to keep going, then you have it, kid. ”
Her tone is so bright and happy that I cling to it as she gently takes it from me, admiring the accessory like the treasure it has been to me all these years. “Where is Paisley now?”
I tell her what I feel deep in my bones. “She’s somewhere out there, chasing sunrises and wandering in sunflower fields.”
She looks from the necklace to me, clutching it. “I’m ready to go again.”
I laugh. “We have gone fifteen minutes overtime, and I think your mom is ready to take you home.”
Her lips twist to the side before she thinks about it and gives me a firm nod. “Next week then.”
“Next week,” I agree. “And Calli?”
“Yeah?”
“I know I said the only person who needs to believe in you is you, but I believe in you, too.”
I stand, and her head tips up as she smiles at me from below the brim of her hat. “Thanks, Coach.” And then she’s gone, walking toward her mom with the necklace dangling from her hand.
Turning, I knit my arms over my chest and watch her leave. Mentoring Calli and the other riders makes me think I can do the dad thing one day. That would be the next dream, to have a bunch of little, stubborn, and reckless Paynes running around for my wife and me to wrangle.
Harlow and Matt are talking through the fence to Calli’s mom when she approaches them. Harlow looks from Calli and then to me, a soft, knowing smile pulling at her lips when she sees my sister’s necklace in Calli’s hand.
Harlow’s hands are tucked into her pockets, showing off the tattooed band of ink around her ring finger.
When she asked if we could get our wedding bands tattooed, since we’re rough on our hands from the life we lead, I didn’t hesitate to say yes. The fucking possession I felt in that moment was insurmountable, knowing she wanted to walk around, branded to me for life.
It feels more permanent.
It feels like us.
Her long blonde hair falls in loose waves over her shoulders, her hat on top of her head, a Lucchese, since they are her sponsor now that she has placed in the top three at the World Finals the last two years.
The year I quit after we got disqualified for sneaking around, I convinced her to still compete in the finals since John said she could.
She did but didn’t make it into the top twenty.
But still, she went out there, having a goddamn blast on the backs of those bulls like she wasn’t meant to be anywhere else. Well, aside from my bed every night.
It’s her fifth year in the Pbr. Her score speaks for itself, as she currently sits in second place in the rankings. We may be a few weeks out from the finals, but she is so fucking close to winning the buckle.
Somehow, there is an odd sense of peace this time. Like we both know that this is the year.
Calli walks out of the practice, and she and her mom wave to me before heading for their car.
Matt heads toward the crew, giving them directions since he left being a bullfighter to come work for Payson Family Farms. We don’t just have bulls now; we also have horses that Harlow trains for clients in the off-season.
A few of her clients have already dropped their horses off in the last few weeks, knowing that the end of her season is right around the corner.
She doesn’t mind; she finds time to work with them anyway.
My wife walks toward me, my hands itching to grasp onto her beautiful hips that are swaying as she walks. I wet my mouth as she comes to stand before me, placing her palm on the side of my face so I can soak in her warmth.
“You are an incredible coach.” The column of her throat moves. “That was so sweet of you to give her that.”
I shrug and smile. “Calli needs it more than I do. And I know Paisley would’ve loved for her to have it.”
Harlow weaves her arms around my neck, pulling herself onto her toes so our faces are mere inches apart. “I am so proud of you.”
I smirk. “I like it when you compliment me, dust bunny.”
And because she knows I love her sass, she doesn’t miss a beat. “You were really trying to one-up me and become her favorite with that gesture, huh?”
Her head tilts, and I drown in those blue pools all over again. “You’re so competitive, Harlow Hartt.”
She sinks her tip into her bottom lip. “You signed up to deal with me and my competitiveness forever, Colson Payne.”
A deep laugh shakes my chest as I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her body flush with mine. “Oh, I damn well know what I signed up for.”