by Dawes, Casey
“Whatever you want.”
“That’s what I want.” Glad she’d brought her own truck, she added, “I think I’m going to say good-bye to Melody and call it a night.”
“You just got here,” Jenny said.
“I’ve hit my limit of wild times.” Bridget smiled. “Let it be, Jen. I need to take care of myself first. I’m the only thing I really have control over. Recovery taught me to pick my battles, and this isn’t one I’m choosing to fight.”
****
Over the next week, two more people approached her about boarding horses, and a girl signed up for barrel racing lessons. When Bridget asked them each how they’d heard of her, they told her someone at the bank had let them know about her operation.
However, when a reporter for the Livingston Enterprise called up to set up a time for an interview and photos, it was time for a trip to town. She needed to get to the bottom of whatever was going on. While she appreciated the help, she wanted to be able to build her business on her own.
When she walked through the bank’s doors she spotted a flyer on the community bulletin board. “Premiere Horse Boarding & Barrel Racing Lessons,” the headline read.
She yanked it from the board and marched directly to Tom Browdy’s open door. “I didn’t ask you to do this!” She flung the paper on his desk.
“Nice to see you, too, Bri.” He stood and shut the door. “Why are you so riled up? I’m trying to help.”
“I don’t need your help.”
“Yes, you do. I’ve looked at your financials, remember?” He leaned his fists on his polished desk.
“I thought that was confidential.” She paced the small office.
“It is. The flyer advertises your skills, not your financial condition.”
“But people will think I begged you for help. Haven’t you done enough to shame me in this town?”
“Sit down, Bri.”
“No.” She increased her speed.
His pen landed on his desk with a clang. “Sit. Down.”
His tone made her stop. She glared at him, but she sat.
“How many people have called?” he asked.
“Five. I’ve got two new boarders and a new student. The other two are thinking about it.”
“Good. See? The flyer is helping.”
She didn’t want it to work. No help needed from Tom Browdy.
“I can do it myself.”
He laughed.
“You always were stubborn. Why can’t you accept a helping hand?”
She leaned forward and placed her arms on his desk. This was the Tom she knew, her friend from years ago, the one she could tell anyone. For a moment she let the intervening years slip away. “You know why. My parents were always getting something from one person or another. I wore hand-me-downs my whole life. I swore when I left that I’d never accept anything from anyone again.” She clenched her fists. “Especially from you.”
He shook his head. “Life doesn’t work that way, Bri. All of us get something from someone. And we give to someone else. Yeah, I was able to go to college with no sweat because my parents had money. Now I’m paying it back by delaying what I really want to do.”
“You mean raising quarter horses?”
“Yeah.”
Muffled sounds from the bank lobby were the only things heard in the room.
“You’re a good teacher,” he said. “I remember all the parents wanted you to babysit because their kids loved you and would listen to you. I’d trust you with any horse in the state, no matter how high strung. You have that gift. All I’m doing is helping people connect with you.”
She swallowed. He was right. She needed the help, but she’d fought hard—first for her independence and then for her sobriety—she hated taking anything from anyone.
“It’s only a flyer. Not a commitment, although I’d give you that, too, if you’d give me a second chance.”
“Aren’t you still involved with Lucy?”
He sighed and sat down. “Lucy doesn’t want to admit that we’re over, but we are.” He drummed his fingers on the desk. “I want to explain exactly what happened and why to you, but not here and not now.”
“I don’t need your explanation. You’ve already told me—young and dumb.” She stretched her lips in what she hoped was a smile. “Thanks for helping out, Tom, but in the future will you ask me first?”
“Young and stupid is only part of the reason I didn’t take you to the prom,” he said. “There’s more.” He glanced at his watch. “Let me take you to dinner. My treat.”
Memories of what once-was warred with the aching pain of what–might-have-been.
She needed to find a new path, somewhere between anger and blind faith, or she’d be alone the rest of her life.
“Okay. But we split it.”
His smile went all the way to his eyes. “You drive a hard bargain, Miss Lawson. Give me a half hour. Meet you at Cob’s Bar and Grill?”
She nodded and stood, her heart less in pain than it had been in over eight years.
For the next half hour, she tended to errands at the general store and post office. The double threat of an intense conversation and available alcohol made her put off going to the grill as long as possible. She hadn’t been in the place since her return six months earlier.
The seductive aromas of whisky and beer teased her nose when she walked into the bar.
God grant me the courage to change the things I can….
She could change her bar drink.
A woman about her age with golden brown hair tied up in a ponytail was behind cash register at the far end of the bar, but no waitress stood at the check-in stand. Bridget crossed the blond-wood floor to the long bar. “Hello. Can I get a couple of menus?”
“Sure.” The woman handed her two laminated menus. “I’m Anna. I don’t remember seeing you in here before. You local?”
Bridget nodded. “I own the Bar-L west of town. I haven’t been in here since I moved back to Willow Creek a few months ago.”
“Oh. You’re the rodeo gal.” Anna looked at her briefly before looking back down at the bar.
Bridget’s stomach sank. What else had Anna heard?
“Sit anywhere you like. Megan should be here any second to wait on you. Can I get you something to drink?”
Bridget eyed the bottle of Jack Daniels on the shelf behind the bar and breathed deeply.
“I’ll take a coke. I’m expecting a guy to join me. Can you let Megan know we want separate tabs?”
“Sure.”
Anna smiled, but there was something about her eyes that was familiar to Bridget. As she pulled out a chair and sat, she realized what it was. Anna’s eyes held the same hunted look that Bridget’s hazel eyes had reflected in the mirror before she became sober.
Bridget stared at the menu, her nerves as taut as they were before she entered an arena. What was she doing here? How could she get past the hurt and pain of the past to even consider dating Tom?
Because he was right. He’d been eighteen and stupid. She’d done enough dumb things while on the circuit to know how fallible human beings could be.
And I still love him.
The door creaked open, and Tom walked in.
Her heart beat a little faster, and the same softness and vulnerability of her teenage years washed over her. Had she ever really fallen out of love with him?
Remember what he did. Her inner senses, honed by dozens of betrayals dished out by bull-riders and calf-ropers, stilled her heart. Teenage crush or not, she’d best be on her guard.
“Thanks for meeting me, Bri.” Tom pulled out a chair.
Anna slid the coke next to Bridget. “Anything to drink, Tom?”
“I’ll have a beer.” He glanc
ed at the coke, but didn’t say anything until after Anna left. “No beer?”
Bridget’s stomach clenched. The only people who knew about her time in rehab were her parents. She’d gotten sober, but it wasn’t anybody else’s business.
She shrugged. “Not in the mood.”
“I see.”
Her heart plummeted for a moment. Had the rumors about her binges made it home to Willow Creek?
He scanned the menu and put it aside. “Burger?”
“Yeah.” She grinned at him. Burgers and cokes had been their standard in high school. It was the one item guaranteed to be on the menu in small Montana towns.
“How’s the application coming?”
“I’ve gotten through the first two hurdles and submitted an online application. Now they want me to do a business plan and cash flow projections, in addition to the financial stuff I had to do for you. Trying to get a loan is hard work.” She traced the sweat on her drink, fighting off the sweet song of Jack Daniels.
The demon never truly went away.
She glanced at Tom. If he knew how low she’d sunk during her rodeo days, he wouldn’t be here. Her past was another good reason to keep him, and any other man, at arm’s length.
A tall young woman with dark hair and a waitress’s apron approached the table. She smiled at Bridget, and then shifted her attention to Tom.
“Hi, Megan,” Tom said. “This is my friend, Bridget.”
“Oh, hi.” She smiled at Bridget before turning back to Tom. “The usual?”
He nodded.
“What can I get you?” she asked Bridget.
“Cheeseburger American cheese, no onion, and extra ketchup.”
“Got it.” The slim waitress hurried off.
“She a good friend of yours?” In spite of her denials, a hard chip of jealousy nicked her gut.
“Nah, I just eat here a lot. Better than trying to get through my mother’s overcooked beef and my dad’s under-appreciation of my life. You should get off the ranch more often.”
“I told you, I have no time for a social life.”
“Yet here we are at dinner.”
“I think you strong-armed me into dinner. You played on my sympathy.”
He laughed. “Maybe a little.”
The place began to fill. People who hadn’t seen her since her return came by to chat, no doubt trying to figure out if she and Tom were back together. By the time they were halfway through their burgers, she still hadn’t had a chance to ask him what he’d meant in the bank about there being more to the story of him and Lucy.
She wasn’t sure she wanted to know.
They were almost finished with dinner when the chance came to bring it up. She toyed with her napkin in her lap, hiding her nerves as she’d always done while competing. “You said you had something to tell me.”
He put his hands on the table. “Yes. It took me about a week after the prom to realize what an idiot I’d been, but by then the damage was done. I was ashamed to even approach you about it. Then graduation came and you were gone.”
“Why did you do it, Tom? And don’t give me the young and stupid line again. There had to be more than that.”
He looked down at his plate. “My dad wanted to know who I was planning to take to the prom. When I told him I intended to ask you, he pressured me to make another choice. He said your family wasn’t in the right class for bankers, and if I wanted to hang with you, maybe I didn’t want to go to college.”
Conflicting emotions made her clench her fists—joy that he had wanted to ask her, anger that he’d caved to his father’s self-righteous opinion.
He took another sip of beer. “He suggested Lucy because her father was on the bank’s board of directors.”
“And had a lot of money.” She tried to keep the bitterness out of her voice.
“That, too. It gets worse. Lucy must have caught wind of my dad’s plans. She upped the ante.” His ears began to turn red, and he looked down at the table. “She told me she’d go all the way with me on prom night if I agreed.”
His words twisted the hardened chip in Bridget’s gut. Her friend had sold her out for money and sex. She fought for air to breathe.
“I’m sorry, Bri. There hasn’t been a day gone by that I haven’t wished I’d had more of a spine.”
“Did you?” She gestured with her hand, unwilling to ask if he’d gone through with Lucy’s proposal.
“Did I what?”
“You know… go all the way?”
He nodded, and then looked toward the door as the heavy click of high heels clicked toward them. “Doggone it. Not now.”
Bridget turned her head just as Lucy stopped at their table.
“What’s this, Tom? You don’t have time for me, but you’re out with rodeo trash?”
Tom opened his mouth to reply.
Lucy turned her attention to Bridget before he said anything. “Don’t think you’ll get him back. You weren’t good enough for him in high school, and you’re not fit for him now. I heard the rumors, Bridget Lawson. Stay away from him, or I’ll ruin you in this town forever.” She kissed Tom on the cheek. “See you later, honey.”
Bridget tried to regroup as Lucy sashayed away. Dinner threatened to make a return appearance, and her hands shook with cold. She looked at the man, the boy, she’d once loved, and placed her napkin on the table. “I think I’d better go.”
He stood as she did. “Bri, don’t let her get to you. We can have this chance. I promise I’ve changed.”
She shook her head. “So have I, Tom. Thanks for dinner.”
Holding her head high, she walked out of the grill.
She was able to hold in her tears until she was halfway home. The sobs forced her to pull off the road.
Once she got home, she saddled up Recovery and headed into the mountains. Montana made up for the gloom of winter with long days of sun in the summer. As long as she headed back in an hour, she’d be home before the sun set around nine.
She urged her horse through the blooming foothills. Tears streamed down her face, and she gave her emotions free rein. Stifling her pain only led to bad behavior and worse consequences.
The sun bathed the snow-capped tips of the Absorkas in pink and gold, and outlined the hard planes of the mountains, revealing the harsh nature of their construction. She paused her headlong rush to take it all in. It was easy to believe in a power greater than herself when she basked in the strength and endurance of nature.
She leaned forward in the saddle. How was she going to handle Lucy’s threat? If word of her abandoned lifestyle on the rodeo circuit ever got out, no parent would let her train their daughter. She might be able to make a living boarding horses, but that life was flat. Her joy came in watching kids grow in confidence as they learned to care for their horse, to control the large animals, and to regard themselves with compassion.
The horsing world in Montana was small. Even if she tried to start over again, her past would catch up with her. And who would she be if she left Willow Creek again? Her community was as much of her soul as the mountains looming in the distance. Even if she didn’t see much of her parents in her headlong rush to build the ranch, they mattered to her.
Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood Him.
The third step of Alcoholics Anonymous echoed in her brain. She had no control over Lucy. Only the reaction to whatever Lucy decided to do. Bridget had climbed out of one pit in her life. She could definitely climb out of another.
But was Tom worth it?
She turned Recovery toward home at a slower pace.
Tom had brought Willow Cat to her because his father scoffed at his dream. He worked at the bank because his father had manipulated him. Pretty clear.
Getting too friendly with Tom Browdy was risky. Would he be a man and stand up to his father and Lucy? Or would he succumb like he’d done before? She’d be better off if she put him out of her life. He was a customer, nothing more.
Decision made, she clicked Recovery into a canter, and headed home, barely noticing the ache still lingering in her heart.
****
Tom showed up around five the next day. She stayed in the house and worked on the loan application. No use in inviting conflict.
When he knocked, she ignored it.
However, when he stood at the open window of her office, she couldn’t avoid him any longer.
“We need to talk, Bri,” he said. “Stop hiding.”
She sighed. “I’ll be out in a minute.” He was not coming into her space.
He sat on one of the plastic Adirondack chairs she’d gotten from one of the big box stores in Bozeman.
She perched on the other one. “I’m here. Talk.”
“I’m not here to say I’m sorry for what happened in high school. I’ve apologized, and if you won’t accept it, there isn’t much I can do.” He paused. “I need to know, Bri. Can you get past that?”
She looked at the barn, corral, and outbuildings of her small ranch. Her lack of a prom date had provided the impetus to get out and prove herself as a barrel racer. She’d hit bottom, survived, and was a stronger person because of it. While it wasn’t the way she would have chosen, Tom’s decision had helped make her who she was.
She’d made plenty of amends as part of her recovery, and she’d had to learn to forgive herself. It was time to extend that forgiveness to someone else.
“Yes, Tom. I forgive you.”
The air eased around them, like a spring breeze whisking away the last chill of winter.
“After you left,” he said, “I was a mess. Lucy told me she was pregnant. My father insisted I marry her. He wanted me to change schools—go to Bozeman and major in accounting. That’s when I got my spine back. I’d marry Lucy—it was the right thing to do, but I was going to go to Dillon and learn about horses.”
