I’d been about ready to bare all to Shelby May Tucker, though, something I’d been trying my hardest not to do. I was still trying to figure out what to do with my feelings for Shelby, so until I figured that out, maybe Cole had come at a good time.
I released Shelby and stepped back.
She swore while she shimmied out of the rope tied around her waist. In spite of myself, I had to bite back a smile. Somehow, with her beside me, it became easier to separate myself from him. Cole Evans was a character in my life. That was it. He wasn’t my whole life. He would never be my whole life, and that thought eased something inside of me.
“I’ll hold his arms. You throw the punches,” Shelby whispered as my dad turned the truck off and pushed open the door.
“That’s probably a good idea. Your right hook sucks.”
“Hey, Jake. Hey, Shelby.”
I hadn’t had time to study him too closely when we were in the hospital. I’d been too blindsided by his presence. But looking at him now, he was just a man. An average man, at that.He had always seemed untouchable, but here and now he just looked weathered. Worn. He stood tall, north of six feet by a couple of inches, but some of that might be his boots. He wore a bright-blue flannel shirt and jeans that looked more expensive than practical.
I didn’t know what to call him. I wouldn’t be saying the word Dad to him. And sir was out of the question.
“Hi.” My voice sounded clipped.
To his credit, he looked slightly relieved at my greeting. He nodded toward Shelby. “I see you two are still attached at the hip.”
To my surprise, Shelby smiled softly, moving forward to shake his hand.
“How are you, Mr. Evans?”
The traitor.
“I’m alright.”
Cole turned to me. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
Flashbacks of my time with him in the hospital bit my memory, but I kept myself in check.
Shelby gave my arm a squeeze before saying, “I’m going to go brush down the horses.”
There were no horses that needed to be brushed down. Shelby walked away, leaving me glaring at her back before I turned back to Cole, both of us awkward and unsure. Finally, he motioned behind me to our makeshift arena. “You practicing for tomorrow?”
“Yeah. It’s been a while.”
“When did you stop?” he asked.
I bit back the surge of anger at his audacity in asking me anything personal. After a moment, collecting myself, I shrugged. “A few years after high school. I got married and moved away and never picked it back up.”
He nodded.
“Are you riding tomorrow?” I asked.
I should have figured that was why he was back in town. It wasn’t for my mom or me but most likely the chance to show off in front of his old hometown buddies.
But to my surprise, he only shrugged. “They’ve asked me, but I’m not sure yet. It’ll be good to see some old familiar faces, though. It’s been too long.”
I hadn’t thought about my dad having much of a life before he left. My entire childhood had been marred by his leaving, even tainting the good memories. But he did have a life here once. Friends. A wife and son. He’d been a local rodeo star. Suddenly, memories of my dad having poker nights with his buddies in the basement when I was a kid came flying back to me. I could still hear their raucous laughter and the way my mom would bang on the floor upstairs as a warning to them when the language began to get colorful.
I had wanted to be just like him when I grew up.
Before I could stop it, memories I thought I’d buried flitted through my consciousness. Those times my dad would push me on the swings or teach me to get on a horse without any help. I used to be this man’s shadow. A skinny scrap of a kid with overgrown cowboy boots and a pocketknife.
I cleared my throat and got a grip on myself.
“I guess that’s what happens when people move away.”