“The only thing being nailed down will be my divorce papers if you don’t knock it off,” River laughs, plonking herself onto her husband’s lap. I realise that I don’t actually knowwhois married towho–not that it matters. They’re just them.
“When’s Billie home anyway? I think Frankie misses his sister,” Jonas asks.
“Tomorrow, and she acts more like his motherhalf the time,” Dallas tells him. The men share a hearty laugh while River smiles lovingly at the pair of them.
We take our seats, Dallas not leaving my side despite opting to sit next to the boys. His hand rests on my leg, the other holding his beer. His fingers gently trace the ridges of denim in tiny circles as he talksto Teddy and Jonas. The subtle wrinkles around his warm, hazel eyes deepen as an enamoured smile spreads over his face as he talks about Billie and her progress with both Lenny and the guitar.
“She’s a bloody musician, I tell ya. Isn’t she, Annabeth?” he asks, turning his attention to me.
I match his proud smile, feeling my own sense of love and adoration for the incredible little girl that waltzes into my classroom everyday with an energy unlike any student I’ve had before. She’s the first to volunteer with packing up, or even just following me around on yard duty to talk to me about her dreams. My smile broadens as I replay our lunch-date chats over and over in my mind.
“Have you heard her sing?” I enquire.
Dallas’s eyebrow raises and the entire group silences for a moment, watching in unison before Dallas speaks. “My girl can sing?” his voice breaks on the last word.
“Of course she can; she’syou.” Colt’s voice cuts the silence as he strides towards the group.
His jeans fit him perfectly, a maroon-coloured Ringers Western shirt is tucked into his championship belt buckle with tasselled chaps hanging from the loops. I’ve never noticed how alike the Northlane brothers are until now. Colt may be the younger of the two, but the years of farm work, competitive barrel racing, and raising Billie with his brother have definitely taken a toll. Even the creases beneath his eyes almost match Dallas’s.
Colt’s hair is laced with sweat, sticking to his forehead beneath his trucker cap. It’s weird seeing him sans cowboy hat, but it suits him, his chiselled features even more prominent. I find myself noticing the creases of his shirt and how it fits across his frame. He’s smaller thanDallas, but not by much. They really could pass for twins.
Dallas stands, moving around us towards his brother, the two of them meeting in a warm embrace. “You ready for tonight, Colson?” Dallas asks, releasing his brother from the hug.
“Fuckin’ nervous. Haven’t done this track without Finnegan before. Not gonna’ lie, I’m shitting myself,” Colt explains.
Jonas invites himself into the conversation. “You’ve got this, man. Just remember to breathe and lean into your corners. Lou’s done this track a thousand times, trust in her. And keep your ass in the saddle.” He offers a series of elaborate hand gestures as he comforts his friend.
Colt nods, the worried expression not leaving his face. Jonas continues, “Hey, it’s okay. You’re a bloody good rider. Don’t think about the score or the crowds, just follow your track and don’t take your eyes off the barrels.”
“Ladies and gentlemen.” The booming echo of the rodeo announcer fills the showground. “Thank you for coming down tonight to celebrate the seventieth annual Fires Creek rodeo. We’ve got quite the line-up for you tonight. Returning to the corral is five-time barrel racing champion, Colson Northlane!”
“I best be off. See you guys soon,” Colt says, placing a gentle kiss on Ella’s cheek before turning on his spurs and exiting the grandstand. I wish those two would get their shit together and cut this ‘we aren’t obsessed with each other’ crap out.
I almost open my mouth to ask, but the announcements continue, “Riding tonight, in the female barrels, we have Wattle Ridge’s very own Charity Michaels!” Cheers erupt from the ground below us.
“And we also have Fires Creek royalty with us in the stands tonight, Theodore James. He’s come along with his partners and son to cheeron our local talent tonight. Give it up for the Carters!”
More cheers whoop through the showground, a few raised glasses end up collateral damage as a group of cowboys in the stands beneath us get rowdy. I glance over to see Jonas wrap his hand around Teddy’s neck before pressing his lips against his temple. River smiles at her husbands, lifting their son into the air to kiss his dad’s other temple. Those three really are beautiful together.
“Wait for it,” Dallas tells me, smirking. I don’t have a moment to ask what he’s talking about before Teddy stands.
Somehow in the two-seconds since I looked at him, he’s picked up Frank – whose now on his shoulders – and is wildly galloping in a circle like a rogue stallion. It’s both the funniest, and the dumbest thing I have ever seen.
“He does this a lot, he’s actually a dickhead,” River says through a laugh. Her eyes roll, but the expression on her face is nothing but adoration for her husband. The crowd dies down, and Teddy takes his seat, depositing his son onto his other father’s lap before wrapping his arms around River, nestling into her neck.
A few events come and go, cheers and boos erupting from all sides of the showground as the scores are placed and the next rider makes their way to the podium. It’s been alongtime since I have been to a rodeo, let alone with so many friends. I was usually the date for whatever asshole I was glued to at the time.
In fact, until now, I don’t think I’ve ever been with someone whosawme. Not the way Dallas does. He looks past everything: my soft belly, the stretch marks on my thighs, the few-too-many piercings from my youth. He doesn’t make me feel the way the others did, like I was too much, but not enough. I was never the girl that you proudlyshowed off, the girl you bragged about to your friends, especially when they made fun of you.
I can’t say that I’ve never been in love, that would be a lie, but I can say that I don’t think I have evertrulybeenloved…Until now.
Twenty-One
Dallas
The clock could not move any fucking slower if it tried. I swear to god, I have been sitting here for over an hour waiting for Billie’s bus to roll in. The hot, midday sun beats down against my neck, and I can feel it burning my skin.
Annabeth’s voice chastises me in my head. ‘You should’ve worn sunblock.”Yeah, like I’m some unruly kid who doesn’t listen to his parents.I stifle a laugh, knowing that I damn wellwasan unruly kid who didn’t listen to his parents. Thinking about Colt’s epic win last night, I can’t help but laugh to myself, because he was, in fact, the unruly kid who didn’t listen to our parents, and it’s granted him nothing but success. I don’t know why he gets so nervous before every rodeo, he’s probably the best rider our towns ever seen.