Chapter 56
CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
Ace
"Ace. Concentrate," Jett hisses, stepping beside me at the chutes.
I check my phone again. Nothing. No texts. No missed calls. Just the last message I sent an hour ago, sitting there unread.
"I can't concentrate. My girl isn't here, and she isn't answering my calls." I keep my voice low. This ain’t the conversation for a rodeo, I don’t need anyone around me knowing my business.
"She's probably on her way. You've got ten minutes until you're out." Jett grabs my shoulder and turns me to face him. "Head in the game or you'll get hurt. Think about that."
I hear the heavy footsteps before I see him. I know Colten is behind me without turning around. The weight of his boots on the dirt. The way the air shifts when he's close.
"What?" I ask, turning.
I glare at Jett. He's got my brothers involved. Of course, he has.
"Give me your phone, Ace," Colt says.
"No."
His jaw twitches. "I will keep calling her. Okay? I'll get through. But you cannot take that phone into the chute."
I drag a hand over my face. The noise of the arena is building around us. And all I can hear is the silence from Harper's end of the line.
"Let me call her mom."
Colt nods. I pull up the contact and hit dial. It rings three times.
"Hi, Ace." Her mom's voice is warm, but there's a tightness underneath it. "I'm so sorry. Harper's been really unwell. Throwing up. She's asleep now."
My stomach drops. "Does she need a doctor? Do I need to come home?"
"We've got her, Ace. I promise. She's going to be fine. Just focus on winning for her, okay?"
There's something in the way she says it that doesn’t sit right.
"Thank you," I say. We exchange goodbyes, and I end the call.
I hand the phone to Colten. My chest is still tight. My gut is still churning. But knowing she's home, knowing she's safe with her mom, gives me just enough ground to stand on.
"She's sick," I say.
But, I’m not convinced I believe it. She was fine last night. Fine this morning.
Colt grabs both sides of my face. Pulls me close. His eyes are locked on mine. The same eyes that watched me fall off my first horse and told me to get back on. The same eyes that held me together after Dad died.
"Get out there. Ride better than you've ever ridden in your life. Eight seconds, brother. You've got this."
"I've got this. I promise."
Jett shoves the helmet into my chest.
"You're up. Go get that championship. Put the Sterlings back on the top spot where we belong."
I pull the helmet on. Strap it tight. Look at both of them. My cousin who'd die for me. My brother, who'd kill for me.
I think about Harper. Sick at home, missing this. I'll win it and bring it back to her. Lay the buckle on the bed and tell her it's hers, because every ride I've ever made has been for her, whether she was in the stands or not.
I think about Paulie. Face down in the dirt on the east fence. The man who drove me four hours to ride a sheep when I was six and told me it was the finest riding he'd ever seen.
This one's for both of them.
"Let's fucking do this," I say.
And I mean it.