Chapter Fourteen #2
“I’m not sure,” he said, searching for the right words, wanting to fit in when he knew he didn’t. “When I was young, I was around horses, figured I’d always be, but …” He shrugged, took another sip of beer though it had turned bitter. “I’m a fan of the rodeo.”
He felt a little grim admitting the next part.
“A fan of yours, though I never once was tempted to drop down on a bull, but I follow the pro rodeo and have taken some business partners to the AEbr when it was in Denver. I never thought about training that goes into the bulls and broncs. More involved than I realized.”
He liked that. The sciences. The statistics. The gut instincts.
“More we see how they perform. What works. It’s the riders who train.” Cash took a last bite of his pie, leaned back on his boots and spurs, Kevlar vest open. “Mostly in how to fall off and get the hell out of the way.”
Cash turned away, swore softly, and then turned back.
“Listen to me. All this”—he swept his arm out to indicate the outdoor area near the arena with the heat lamps cheerily cranking out the heat—“this ranch, these people, their dreams and hard work and support of each other was a total closed door to me a little over a month ago. I wasn’t sure it existed, and I sure didn’t think they’d roll open the welcome door for me,” Cash said passionately.
“I want to do the same for you, if you’re willing. ”
Telford was so shocked he choked on a bite of pizza. Cash pounded his back.
“That felt harder than necessary,” Telford said.
Cash grinned. “Family. It’s always personal.”
“We don’t know for sure,” Telford qualified—why did no one want to wait for science. Facts? Maybe that was why his bio dad—his maybe bio dad—thought he could cause some hurt? The Telfords were too wide open.
“She talk about him much?” Cash interrogated between aggressive bites of pizza that he chewed like he was in a hurry.
He didn’t everything fast, Telford had noted, whereas he had always been calm, measured.
“No. Told me his name. Told me he had the face of an angel, body of a god, and rode like the devil and took off before she knew about me.”
“Hell of a thing to say to a kid.”
“I made the mistake of asking one night. She’d had a couple of friends over, and they’d shared some wine. She never talked about my bio dad, and she never dated because of me, and I had a school project about family, so I pushed it. Didn’t ask again.”
Cash laughed, then scowled “Bastard. No care for anyone but himself.”
“’Scuse us for a second, ma’am.” Cash tipped his hat at Ayana and turned on heel, slung his arm around Telford’s shoulders, and pulled him in along into the small crowd of men milling around the outdoor pizza oven merrily blazing in the black velvet night.
Lights were strung through the oak trees and a few propane heaters pumped out heat.
Riley Telford, balancing a guitar across her lap, sat on a picnic table with one of the girls from the library and Harry’s House.
She strummed the guitar, while the girl, also holding a guitar, but with far less comfort, tried to follow the chord structure.
“Your mom cool that you’re here?” Cash asked.
He pulled another beer from the cooler, popped the cap, flicked it into a trash can about twenty feet away as if it was nothing and handed the beer over.
“My mom died when I was eight. She was killed.” And that was all he was saying.
Cash continued to look at him. “So you’re alone?”
“I have my wife.”
Cash clinked his beer to Telford’s that was still full. Funny. Telford had thought of Ayana before Cam. She’d really gotten in deep.
“Gonna have to toughen you up, cowboy,” Cash said, looking him over, his grin sliding into something a little bit wicked.
“I’m not a cowboy,” Telford said.
These men were real cowboys, stewards of the land. He’d lost access to that years ago.
“You were born to the life. You can get it back, if you want to work for it.”
Telford looked into the face so like his own, the eyes dark and steady and sure with purpose. “Our lives are what we make them.” It felt like a vow.
“Hell, yeah,” Cash said. “I’ve built a career I’m proud of. And I’m creating a family and will stick in a way that loser never could or would.”
Telford could tell he meant it, and longing swept through him.
He’d said something similar to Ayana today—that if they had a child he’d stick.
Could he have a family? His marriage to Ayana wasn’t the same as Cash’s to Madelyn’s or his possible cousins to their wives or husbands.
But maybe he’d have a shot. Maybe Ayana too would want to fight for something real.
“I’ve been holding something back. Wanted to get your measure,” Cash said. “But first. You are a blood brother, which means you are coming to the wedding and the events in the next few days.”
“But I … we don’t … we barely know each other,” Telford stammered like he was a shy kid again.
The invitation was so unexpected. And the sharp stab of surprise combined with what felt like happiness unnerved him. It meant more than he wanted it to.
“We don’t even have the results yet.”
“Science. I ride by instinct.”
“BS. I saw how all of you analyzed the moves of the bulls and broncs.”
“Guilty,” Cash said. “But you’re still coming. What better way to build memories than to grit it out on a survival course designed by our former Special Forces cousin and his sadistic buddies?”
He slapped Telford’s back, rocking him a little. “I’ll take your silence as a yes.”
“I didn’t say yes.”
“You will. You’re here. You’re my brother. You’re all in.”
*
An hour later they were on the road headed back to town, steeped in silence.
He took each curve in the road carefully. He’d finished a beer, had a couple sips of a second one. More than usual. But they’d been at the ranch—the dinner after the practice runs to judge how the new bulls and broncs bucked for nearly two hours. And he’d eaten.
Ayana’s hand was on his thigh, fingers splayed.
Connecting them in a way he hadn’t anticipated.
It still shocked him that he’d proposed.
That she’d accepted. And now they had a countdown.
Desire tugged at the edges of his awareness.
He’d tried to ignore it, but tonight he wanted to fuel it like the bonfire at the ranch.
He paused at the bottom of the road, right under the sign proclaiming the Telford family ranch. He needed to turn right, head back to town. Instead, he sat in the beautiful quiet of the night.
“Big night,” she said. “Yet look at the moon. It’s nearly full and dwarfing us.
” Ayana’s hand stroked down his thigh, curved around his knee in a reassuring squeeze.
She laid her head on his shoulder. “Sometimes I feel so small and as if my problems are so large, but then I see the moon—so elegant, predictable rising again and again, controlling the tides so far away—and I remember there is such beauty in the world.”
He lowered their seats so they could watch the moon rise in the east and sail above the Jeep’s open sunroof, the chill night curling in.
“This feels like a moment I want to bottle,” he said after a long while.
She turned to look at him. “That’s a perfect description.” She smoothed some hair back from his forehead. “And this sounds like you—not how Cam would see it.”
He blinked at the unexpected sting in his eyes. Then worse, there was moisture on his cheek when a tear fell, followed by another, before he could wipe it away, embarrassed.
“Am I betraying his memory?”
“No, you are making new ones,” Ayana said softly. She kissed his cheek, catching the tear, and chasing another with her lips.
He turned toward her and into the kiss, with a small moan of pleasure and relief.