by Scarlett Ray
Chapter Thirteen: Dani
The drive from Palo Verde to Kingman was about three hours, and my son managed to fill the whole time with questions. Noah was almost shockingly patient with him, answering everything he could and admitting when he didn’t know something. Most of it was rodeo-related, and Noah seemed more than happy to tell stories about his old bronc-riding days. I don’t think he was ever as passionate about the subject as Nicky was, but apparently some of Nicky’s enthusiasm was rubbing off on him. I was looking forward to seeing them together all day, seeing just how much they had in common.
We headed to our hotel first to pick up our keys, since it would probably be late by the time we got back that night. The place was small and homey, not a big chain establishment. The older woman at the desk seemed perplexed by the fact that we were getting two separate rooms, and I could’ve sworn I saw her glance at my left hand and wrinkle her nose disapprovingly. Judgmental old bat.
After putting our bags up, with Nicky bouncing and nagging the whole time, we headed for the fairgrounds. Once we got inside, he went wide-eyed and quiet, trying to take in everything at once. After all, his rodeo fascination had only started earlier that year, so he’d never actually been to one before.
The main events would all take place in a broad, dirt-floored arena. There were rows of bleachers set up on one side to seat the audience and chutes along the fence for broncs and bulls. A few hundred feet behind the bleachers, they had a long white tent set up. Probably a temporary concert hall for the dance after the rodeo events, if I had to guess. There were also plenty of small vendor booths, shacks, and food trucks, all peddling typical fair food: hot dogs, fries, funnel cakes, that sort of thing.
There were plenty of people milling around already, some in t-shirts and shorts, some in sundresses and polos, several in boots and hats like ours. It was easy to spot the difference between people who wore that sort of thing day-to-day and people who were “dressed up” like it was a costume. But over the years, I’d gotten to a point of not begrudging tourists much, so the inauthentic ones didn’t really bother me. Let them have their fun and spend all their money at Boot Barn if that would make the vacation for them. There were kids everywhere too, mostly Nicky’s age or a little older.
My poor little guy seemed kind of overwhelmed, so I patted his shoulder and asked, “Are you hungry?” He nodded silently, so I led him toward the food stands to try to narrow his focus some. “Well, you have to pick something, then.”
“Just out of curiosity,” Noah piped up, content to follow along behind us as Nicky did his browsing, “what’s the policy on drinking around the little guy?”
“As long as you don’t get drunk, I could care less.”
“Yeah, that’s unlikely.”
I couldn’t remember ever seeing Noah get drunk in the past, so I wasn’t too worried. When Nicky told me he wanted a chili dog—no, he wanted two chili dogs—and fries to boot, I didn’t question whether he could eat it all. The boy was like a Hoover, especially when it came to anything meat-based. Watching Noah chow down on no less than three cheeseburgers along with his beer, I couldn’t begin to imagine where Nicky had gotten his appetite from. I thought about pointing out the similarity to him, but I didn’t want to bring the subject up to Nicky until after I’d explained it to Noah and gotten his reaction. Instead, I snacked on a tray of jalapeño-covered nachos while they both devoured their food.
“What happens first?” Nicky asked as he was finishing off the last of his fries.
Since Noah had already finished his food and I was still working on mine, I asked, “Why don’t you check online for the schedule?”
He nodded and reached for his pocket, then frowned and checked the other one. “Damn.”
“What?”
“I think I must have left my phone in the truck. My truck, I mean, in Palo Verde. I don’t remember having it since this morning.”
“Oh,” I frowned. “Is that a problem? What if someone needs to get ahold of you?”
“Well, it’s taken me this long to even notice it was missing,” he pointed out. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll check on it once we get back.”
Using my phone instead, we checked the schedule and found that bareback riding was the first event of the day and would be starting in about fifteen minutes.
“We have to go sit down!” Nicky insisted, shooting up from the picnic table we’d found and hopping around as if he hadn’t just eaten half his body weight.
“Okay, okay, we’re going,” I laughed.
“You ready for a lesson?” Noah asked Nicky, nudging his shoulder as we headed to the bleachers.
“What kind?”
“About bronc riding. What else? You don’t know all the rules yet do you?”
“No,” his eyes were wide again at the thought of learning more. Somehow, this was a topic they hadn’t covered yet. “Can you teach me?”
“Course I can.” I think Noah was really enjoying having someone idolize him so much—but in a way that was endearing, not obnoxious. “It’s pretty tough to learn just by watching. I can tell you about all the little details that go into the scores.”
“Okay!”
Just like I’d hoped, the two of them seemed to be having more fun than usual by sharing this experience. Although I had agreed to take Nicky, I wasn’t the kind of expert on rodeoing that Noah was, and I didn’t have any personal experience with it. It was funny how well their interests lined up. Maybe that was hereditary too.
We found seats on the bleachers pretty close to the front, and Nicky was already telling Noah everything he knew about how the arena was set up, how the chutes worked, where the pickup men would ride in from, etc. His fixation before was bull riding, but since learning about Noah’s previous career, he’d spent the past few days learning as much about bronc riding as he could. And of course, he was happy to hear it from a firsthand source.
“Watch his feet,” Noah was saying as the first rider went out, getting tossed and bucked every which way but managing to hang on. “He gets points for spurring the horse and keeping his feet positioned right.”
“How do the judges see from so far away?”
“They’ll have videos, slow-motion and everything, so they can see exactly how well—ooh,” Noah winced slightly as the rider finally hit the ground and the pickup men rode out to retrieve him and the horse. “See, just staying on isn’t all that matters. You have to get the techniques right too or you won’t get a decent score.”
“Hey, don’t say it like you’re training him for this,” I warned.
“Not for a few more years, maybe,” he said with a devilish grin. “Come on, you always encouraged me, didn’t you?”
“It’s different when we’re talking about my own son.”
“Ouch.”
“Did you go to the rodeo too, Mama?” Seated between us, Nicky scooted back a little so he could see us both.
“I went to support my good friend, yes. Nanny and Papa went too,” I added, referring to my parents.
“I wouldn’t’ve done nearly as well without you three cheering me on,” Noah said.
“Well, except that one year. What was it, two thousand ten? When you got disqualified because of me?”
“It wasn’t because of you,” Noah argued with a scowl.
“What happened?” Nicky piped up.
“Some puffed-up steer wrestler from Tucson was giving your mama a hard time.” There was a snarl curling Noah’s lip just from remembering it. “He was being real ugly, so I taught him that’s not how you treat a lady.”
“By breaking his nose,” I added. Not that I was complaining; the man had been a complete ass, some multi-year champion who thought his reputation could get him whatever he wanted. When he tried that horseshit with me, I told him I didn’t care who he was, he wasn’t entitled to my attention, and his breath stank like chewing tobacco. Not surprisingly, he called me an ugly whore when I rejected him, along with some extra insults for being Mexic
an.
I was ready to ignore him and walk away—but Noah, who had seen him hassling me and started over to get rid of him, heard all that and went berserk. He knocked the guy to the ground and refused to let him up until he apologized, which he did, eventually. Of course, that little outburst got him completely disqualified from all events, meaning his great scores had been all wasted. For my sake.
“He deserved it,” Noah said, unapologetic. “Anyway, my riding was always better when I knew you were watching.” Caught off-guard by that, I glanced in his direction, and he shot me a grin before going back to teaching Nicky. Despite myself, I smiled. Maybe Noah’s presence was helping me enjoy the trip more too.
The three of us being there together felt so natural, almost like we were a real family, just like Maggie said. This was what Nicky and I had been missing out on, not having Noah in our lives. If telling him the truth meant that we could have this more often, then I needed to tell him as soon as possible.
* * *
By the time the rodeo events were all over and the scores were delivered, it was dark out. The fairgrounds were only illuminated by a few tall industrial lamps, but there wasn’t much to see; all the food booths were packing up, and the dust in the arena was still, leaving the place a lot quieter all of a sudden.
“Is it over already?” Nicky asked, sounding devastated.
“Just about. All that’s left now is the dance,” I nodded toward the tent behind the bleachers, which was lit up from the inside and still bustling with people. “And that’s mostly for grown-ups.”
“I wanna go!”
“Honey, it won’t be any fun for you,” I told him. “It’ll just be a band and some people dancing. There’s nothing for kids to do in there.”
“But it’s part of the rodeo,” he insisted. “I don’t wanna miss anything.”
“It won’t hurt anything to take him over there, will it?” Noah asked. With the two of them both giving me puppy eyes like that, it wasn’t long before I broke.
“All right, you can see for yourself, but I’m telling you: you won’t like it.” Regardless, he led the way with as much energy as ever, tugging me along by my hand while Noah walked at my other side.
The tent was enclosed other than an arched doorway opening on either side. At one end, there was a stage set up with a drum set, guitar, bass, and what looked like an electric banjo. Right in front of the stage, there was a temporary dance floor made up of square wood panels, and a few people were already gathered around, ready to start dancing as soon as the music began. At the other end, there was a small bar, and there were a few tables scattered around. There were more kids there than I expected, and it looked like enough people had stuck around that the place was full but not crowded.
“See? What are you gonna do in here?” I looked down at Nicky but found that he had already wandered away and started a conversation with a little boy around his age who was squatting on the floor with a set of plastic barnyard animals inside a little plastic fence. Like kids their age do, they already seemed to be completely engrossed in whatever it was four-year-olds talked about.
“That answers that question,” Noah chuckled.
“Great. Now the question is what are we gonna do in here?”
The little boy’s mother, a young slip of a thing with pink on the ends of her blond hair, caught my eye and smiled. “Is he yours?” she asked, nodding toward Nicky.
“Yes, and outgoing as they come. Is it all right if he—”
“Oh, yes, of course!” she waved off the idea that Nicky visiting with her son could possibly be a problem. “He’s perfectly fine. I’m glad they’re getting along.”
The band came out and introduced themselves, drawing everyone’s attention and some advance applause. The frontman was Latino and boisterously friendly, reminding me of an uncle I had on my dad’s side. As soon as they started playing, people were dancing, either on the dancefloor itself or wherever they stood, at the edges of the tent or by their tables.
“So?” Hands in his pockets, Noah scuffed his boot on the dirt floor. “You gonna dance with me or what?” I was wondering if he would ask. We were reliving a lot of our old rodeo memories that day, so why not this one too?
“Wouldn’t be the first time, I suppose. But…” I glanced back to where Nicky was still on the floor with his new friend, holding a little plastic horse and pointing out different parts of its molded saddle. “I don’t want to take my eyes off him for too long.”
“He looks pretty well occupied to me,” Noah shifted his weight and shrugged. “I understand if you forgot how. I figure it’s probably been a while.”
“That sounds an awful lot like a challenge.”
“Good ear.” Ooh, that cocky little smirk of his drove me crazy.
“All right, cowboy. I don’t mind proving you wrong.” Sneaking one last look at my son, I took Noah’s hand and let him lead me onto the dancefloor. He gave me a twirl and pulled me into his arms, his free hand slid around my waist while mine draped over his shoulder. The rhythm was an easy one to follow, and we both still knew the steps; we fell into motion with the couples around us as easily as ever. I had to tease him, “And what makes you think it’s ‘been a while’? You think I couldn’t’ve gone dancing with some other bronc buster while you were away?”
“Oh, I’m sure you had your pick. But did you?” he raised his eyebrows like he already knew the answer.
“I tried once or twice. Couldn’t find another one who moved just right,” I didn’t look at him as I said it, but I imagined he probably understood what I meant. Even after I’d had Nicky, there were more than a few boys in town who wanted to take me out—but I never got past a second date with any of them. That unexplainable sense of belonging I got from being close to Noah had spoiled me, and I didn’t feel it with anyone else. He wasn’t the first man I’d slept with, but he was the last.
His hold on me tightened a little, his body tensing up against mine, “That’s flattering.”
“How about you?” I asked, even though I knew it was none of my business. “You being a rugged, charming country boy and all; you must’ve been pretty popular with those girls up north.”
He let out a snort and shook his head, “I had a couple interested, sure. They got real disappointed when I told them I had a girl back home.”
“Oh, do you? Have I met her?”
“Well, you know what a ladies’ man I’ve always been,” he drew away, gave me another spin, and pulled me in for a quick dip backward.
Without a bit of hesitation, I followed his lead, letting out a laugh as I dropped my head back. When he righted us and I got my bearings, my fingers found their way up the back of his neck to brush his hairline.
“Yeah, you Wright boys are heartbreakers.” As if. The Wrights didn’t really shop around when it came to dating; they picked a girl, usually a girl they met out of town, and stuck with her. I almost wondered if I was that girl for Noah. If so, he had a funny way of showing it. Though judging by the way he’d been acting all day, it sure seemed like he wanted more from me.
“Speak for yourself. Stringing that Hawthorne guy along like you’re actually interested in him,” he clucked his tongue like he was disappointed in me.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were jealous, honey,” I teased, and Noah rolled his eyes like that was just a ridiculous thought. “Besides, how would you know if I’m actually interested in him or not?”
“He just doesn’t seem like your type, unless you’ve changed a lot since I went away. As far as I can tell, you haven’t.”
Before I could tell him that he hadn’t seen enough of me to make that judgment yet, the song ended, and we broke apart to clap for the band. It was easy to tell who had been drinking for a while already by the volume and length of the crowd’s hollering. Once they’d settled down some, the frontman announced, “All right, we got a request for this next one. Y’all swingers come on up and show us some of your moves so we can Drink to That
All Night.”
As the song started up, the crowd whooped again—me included. This song was one of my favorites! A lot of the couples around us cleared off the floor, but Noah took my hand to keep me there, “Wanna try something a little more daring?”
“Boy, you cannot expect me to remember things I haven’t practiced in five years,” I answered, giving him a skeptical look.
“I bet you’d be surprised how much your body remembers, even if your head doesn’t. Just give it a try,” he encouraged me.
The other couples out there with us had started dancing already, each pair following their own routine, laughing and grinning and making eyes at each other while Noah and I stood by at the edge of the floor.
Noah tried again, “If I steer you wrong, you can always walk off and leave me.”
His part wasn’t the one I was worried about. I checked on Nicky again to be sure he was all right, and it looked like a few other kids his age had joined him and his friend, all talking up a storm.
“All right,” I agreed, stepping close to Noah again. “One more, then I’m done.”
This song was a lot more upbeat than the last, so there wasn’t much time for talking. There was just constant movement: four or five spins in a row, low dips that sent my hair flying, and lots of maneuvering around each other. Maybe we weren’t quite as coordinated and smooth as the other couples, but for being so out of practice, I thought we held our own pretty well.
Noah was right; it was a lot easier to follow his lead than I expected. Muscle memory kicked in to follow him through every lift and dip and twirl. And it was every bit as fun as I remembered. There were cheers and whistles from the crowd surrounding the dancefloor, but I didn’t know if any of them were directed at us. I didn’t care. For those few minutes, my focus stayed completely on Noah and how satisfying it was to be so close to him.
