13. Julius
— ? —
Julius
I’m checking my vest when Ramona stops beside the chute with my old buckle in her hands. Her thumb moves along the worn edge while she looks past me at the bull, and I step down from the rail so she doesn’t have to keep looking up.
“You brought it.” I reach toward her, then stop with my hand between us. “I wasn’t sure you would.”
“You asked me to come.” She checks the fastening on my vest before meeting my eyes. “I wasn’t going to leave it in a drawer.”
“I meant after everything that happened.” I let her adjust a strap that’s already tight enough.
Her fingers pause against my chest. She looks down at the buckle, then turns it over in her palm.
“I thought about putting it away.” She works her thumb over the back of it. “Then I pictured you getting on without me holding it, and I couldn’t do that either.”
I take her free hand and warm it between mine. Around us, the hands are checking the gates and speaking quietly to one another, but nobody asks me to hurry.
“You can wait somewhere else if watching gets too much.” I don’t look away from her. “I’ll come find you when it’s over.”
“Please stop offering to send me away.” She squeezes my fingers before letting go. “I’m scared. I still want to be here.”
“I’m glad you are.” I brush a loose strand of hair behind her ear and leave my hand against her cheek.
She leans into it briefly, then catches my wrist.
“Go on before I start checking your vest again.” She lowers my hand with a small smile. “I’ve already found several things to worry about.”
I kiss her forehead before climbing back onto the rail. Beyond her, the lights are on in the arena I built so bad weather wouldn’t stop training. I paid for the best gates and every piece of safety equipment anybody recommended, and I still can’t promise her I’ll walk out without getting hurt.
Don’t make her comfort you about that.
Dakota approaches the fence as I settle into position. She stops beside Ramona and looks at the buckle held against her shirt.
“Is that one you won?” She tips her chin toward it while I adjust my glove.
“It is.” I look at Ramona rather than the buckle. “I gave it to her the first time she came to watch me ride. After a bad fall, she’s held it every time since.”
“I didn’t know that.” Dakota rests her notebook against the fence.
Ramona keeps watching me while she shifts the buckle into both hands.
“You told me you had to come back for it.” She presses her lips together before continuing. “I took you seriously.”
“I remember.” I hold her gaze until she nods.
One of the hands checks with me before putting his palm on the gate. Ramona steps behind the barrier, and I wait until she’s settled before giving him the signal.
***
Hammer turns hard as he comes out, and I have to adjust before I’ve taken a proper breath.
My free arm lifts while I try to stay centered. He bucks again, jolting my teeth together, then changes direction fast enough that I nearly lose my seat.
I don’t look toward Ramona. I keep my attention on the next movement until the buzzer sounds.
When I get free, I hit the ground with one knee beneath me. Pain catches in my shoulder as I put a hand down, but I get up and move clear while the hands bring Hammer toward the exit.
One of them catches my elbow before I can head across the arena.
“Take a second.” He looks at my face, then down at my legs. “Where does it hurt?”
“My shoulder took some of it.” I move the arm carefully instead of pretending it’s fine. “I’ll get it checked.”
He stays beside me until I’ve caught my breath. Ramona is waiting at the barrier, her hands still closed around the buckle. I walk toward her slowly enough that she can see I’m steady.
“You’re taking your time.” She looks from my knees to my shoulder when I reach her.
“I landed badly.” I stop close without pulling her against me. “It’s sore. I’m going to have somebody look at it.”
Her eyes lift to mine. She takes a breath, then holds out the buckle.
“I’m glad you told me.” She lets me take it, although her fingers stay against my palm for a moment.
I put it safely in my pocket before touching her cheek. She has tears beneath her eyes, and I wipe one away with my thumb.
“You don’t have to stop crying because I’m standing here.” I keep my voice low.
“I’d like to stop.” She laughs once, wiping her other cheek with her sleeve. “It’s embarrassing. I was trying to look supportive.”
“You came. You held the buckle. I noticed. You don’t owe me a smile, too.”
She catches the front of my vest and draws me closer.
“I was proud of you.” Her voice catches, but she keeps looking at me. “You need to know that.”
I kiss her before I can say a stupid thing about being fine. Her fingers curl into the vest, and she presses closer while I settle my hand at her waist.
Someone whistles near the chute. She starts laughing against my mouth but doesn’t move away until she’s ready.
“You’re getting dirt on me.” She brushes at the mark my cheek leaves beside her mouth.
“I’ll help you clean up.” I keep my hand against her back while she looks up.
“You’re getting that shoulder checked first.” She touches the edge of my vest carefully. “You can flirt with me while we walk.”
“I’m willing to try.” I take her hand, and she stays beside me all the way out of the arena.
***
After I’ve been checked, Ramona goes to get water while I put away my equipment. I’m easing the glove off my sore hand when Dakota appears in the doorway.
“That was a good ride.” She sets her notebook on the workbench. “You handled the turn better than you did in practice.”
“Thank you.” I hang the glove beside my vest, then reach for a towel. “The work helped.”
“Ramona looked relieved afterward.” Dakota picks at a thread on her cuff. “I wasn’t sure she’d want to watch.”
“She told me she wanted to be here.” I wipe the dirt from my jaw, checking the towel before using a clean corner.
“She must really love you to put herself through that.” Dakota looks toward the passage before returning her attention to me. “It must be hard for you, too. Knowing she’s that afraid.”
I stop drying my neck. The easy answer would be to agree, then explain how I felt when I saw Ramona crying. That’s how we started talking before.
“She and I are discussing it.” I fold the towel and put it down. “I’m not going to talk about her feelings when she isn’t here.”
Dakota straightens, her hand flattening against the notebook.
“I wasn’t trying to upset anybody.” She lowers her voice. “I thought you might want to talk after your first ride.”
“I appreciate your help with the training.” I look directly at her. “But I’ve already told you what needs to change. I need us to keep to that.”
For a moment, I think she’ll argue. Then she picks up the notebook and holds it against her jacket.
“Understood.” She steps away from the bench. “I’ll leave you to it.”
Ramona arrives as I reach the doorway, carrying two bottles of water. Her eyes move from Dakota to me before she holds one out.
“What did I miss?” She waits while Dakota walks toward the far end of the passage.
I take the bottle but don’t open it yet.
“We were talking about the ride.” I keep looking at my wife. “She mentioned how frightened you looked. I told her that was for you and me to discuss.”
Ramona’s fingers loosen around her bottle.
“You told her without getting annoyed with me?” She tries to smile, but I can hear the question beneath it.
“I’m not annoyed with you.” I reach for her free hand. “I should have said it that way from the beginning.”
She lets me hold her hand while we walk toward the trailers. I don’t ask whether we’re okay.
***
Ramona is folding a horse blanket when the invitation arrives. I read the first line, then stop beside the open trailer door so she can see the screen.
“The Western Classic has another date.” I hand her the phone. “They’re asking whether I’d consider the exhibition.”
She takes it without answering immediately. I watch her read, waiting while she scrolls to the bottom.
“This gives you longer.” She looks up at me, then glances toward my shoulder. “How are you feeling now?”
“Sore, but they don’t think I’ve done any damage.” I move the arm carefully. “I’m supposed to rest it and get checked again if it doesn’t improve.”
“Then do that.” She holds the phone against her palm. “Don’t start trying to prove you can get straight back on.”
“I won’t.” I put my hands in my back pockets so she can see I’m listening.
She looks at the invitation again. Our name is already going above the entrance at the event, and our trucks will be taking horses for the younger riders to practice with. I agreed to help long before I thought about getting on a bull there myself, and this part is mine to decide.
“What do you want to tell them?” Ramona hands the phone back, her eyes staying on my face.
“I want to say yes.” I take a breath before continuing. “I want to train for it properly and see whether I’m ready when it gets closer.”
She rests her palm against the trailer door, looking toward the arena. I wait instead of explaining why it should be fine.
“If you aren’t ready, you don’t go through with it.” She turns back to me. “Even if people have bought tickets and your name is printed everywhere.”
“I can agree to that.” I put the phone in my pocket.
“Can you actually do it?” She steps closer, keeping her voice quiet. “I know how much you hate letting people down.”
I look at the hand she has pressed against the door.
“I’ve been willing to let you down.” I close my hand over her fingers. “I need to get better at disappointing somebody else when I should.”
Her mouth tightens before she nods.
“I don’t want to decide whether you ride.” She rubs her thumb across my knuckles. “I want to know what you’re thinking before it’s settled.”
“That’s why I showed you.” I lift her hand to my mouth. “I haven’t answered anybody.”
She stays close while I kiss her fingers. Then she touches the pocket where I put the buckle.
“I want you to go if you’re ready.” She looks up at me. “I’ll be there, and I’ll probably be a pain in the ass beforehand.”
“You were very polite today.” I brush my thumb along her wrist.
“I was saving it in case you tried to hide an injury.” She lifts her eyebrows, and I start laughing.
“I’ll try not to give you a reason.” I draw her closer, careful of my shoulder.
She kisses my cheek before letting me take out the phone. I write that I’d like to prepare for the later exhibition, provided I’m ready to ride safely.
Ramona reads it when I hold the screen toward her.
“That sounds honest.” She squeezes my hand while I send it.
I keep her beside me afterward, even while we finish folding the blanket. She gives me the easy end and complains when I don’t line up the corners, and I let her tell me how to do it.
***
The organizer, out this afternoon about the horses we’re sending, catches us before we reach the truck. He has a folded draft of the event program in his hand, and he offers it to Ramona when she steps around me.
“I thought you’d both like to see this.” He waits while she opens it. “We’ve still got changes to make, so tell me what needs fixing.”
There’s an old photograph of me beneath the event name. Ramona smiles and points to the picture.
“You lost your hat before they even opened the gate.” She looks up at me. “You were so annoyed about it.”
“I was hoping you’d forgotten that.” I rest my hand against her back as she turns the page.
Her smile goes before I see what she’s reading. She shifts the paper closer, then smooths it flat with her thumb.
Beneath my name is a short introduction.
Please welcome back Julius Wyatt, joined by trainer Dakota Sterling, the woman who convinced him to ride again.
I take my hand from Ramona’s back and reach for the page. She gives it to me without looking up.
“Who wrote this?” I hold it where the organizer can see the paragraph.
“Dakota helped with the background.” He looks between us, his smile fading. “Is there a mistake?”
“Yes, there is.” I keep my voice steady, although my grip creases the paper. “She didn’t make this decision for me. Please take that out.”
He reaches for a pen and makes a mark beside it. Ramona puts her hands in her jacket pockets while we wait.
“I’ll have it changed.” He folds the program back, checking my face. “I’m sorry. We thought that was what you wanted.”
“I appreciate you fixing it.” I return the paper, then turn toward my wife, who is looking at the organizer.
“When did she give you that?” Ramona keeps her voice quiet enough that he has to lean closer.
“She sent it before the invitations went out.” He glances at me, then back at her. “We used what she gave us.”
“Then she sent it before I told her to stop speaking for me.” I say it to Ramona, not to him. “And she never took it back.”
Ramona turns toward me. I reach for her hand, but she keeps it in her pocket.
I only answered the invitation with her standing beside me. Dakota had already given them a story about bringing me back.