by Marin Thomas
Tanya and her folks were staying at a hotel on the strip and had been present every night he’d competed. He’d limited his contact with them—a quick meal after his win before returning to his room—because each time he looked into Tanya’s eyes he lost a little bit of his will to win. He wanted this over with so he could move on with his life. His whole world had been rodeo for so long that when Tanya and Alex had wiggled their way into his heart, they’d opened his eyes to the possibility of a future where he could be at peace with the past.
Tonight was the beginning of tomorrow and every day after with Tanya and Alex. No matter what happened in the arena, this was his final ride. He’d failed Cruz all those years ago, but Alex coming into Vic’s life had given him a new purpose, and that was raising his nephew.
Tonight he was going up against Kenny Higgins. The twenty-one-year-old Irish kid had come out of nowhere this past July and had made a name for himself. His spirited personality matched his red hair and he’d become a crowd favorite. One of them would walk away with the championship buckle. Vic hoped it was him, but no matter the outcome he’d have no regrets when he took his last walk through the cowboy ready area.
Images flashed through his mind at warp speed; him, Cruz and Alonso running the streets of Albuquerque. Ducking behind Dumpsters to avoid the police patrolling their neighborhood. Cruz and Alonso waiting for him when he left the emergency room after he’d received fifty-seven stitches in his face.
Cruz grabbing the gun from his hand.
Cruz sitting in the back of the patrol car.
Cruz being sentenced to prison.
And Vic being sentenced to a rodeo career he’d never wanted. He recalled his first official rodeo where he’d broken his wrist after being tossed by a bronc named Ugly. The second rodeo, the third, the fifteenth...when he’d finally made it to the buzzer. Driving down a deserted stretch of highway to the next event. Sleeping in the backseat of his pickup. His first trophy. First check. First visit to the finals in Vegas...second...third. Tanya stranded on the side of the road in the rain. Her smile. The feel of her soft skin beneath his hands. Alex waving goodbye. Tanya’s worried gaze staring after his pickup.
Vic felt it coming...the slow clenching of his intestines, his chest compressing, his mouth watering... He turned his head and puked. Not once but three times until there was nothing left in his gut.
“You better drink this.”
The back of Vic’s hand froze against his mouth. His sour stomach forgotten, he straightened. A can of soda appeared in front of his eyes. With shaking fingers he accepted the drink. He swished the carbonated beverage around his mouth, then spat it out before chugging several swallows.
Then he turned and faced his past.
“You look like someone pulled you through a knothole backward.”
Vic hadn’t seen or spoken to Cruz all week, but Tanya had mentioned that Cruz and Alonso and their families had arrived the night of his first ride. She’d asked if he’d wanted to visit with them, but he couldn’t face any of them until he ridden his last bronc.
He studied Cruz’s chiseled face—searching for the teenager he’d hung out with years ago, but there wasn’t a hint of boy left in his face or body. His dark brown eyes were guarded. Cruz wasn’t the same homey he’d run wild with in the barrio. Neither was Vic.
“You gonna say something or just stand there looking at me like I’m a ghost?” Cruz asked.
“Sorry.” The apology slipped from Vic’s lips and he winced.
“We can start there. It’s as good a place as any.”
“I should have listened to you that night and not met up with the Los Locos.” Vic dropped his gaze. “But I was determined to make things right for my sister.”
“Maria told me what happened to Camila. I’m sorry.”
“It was all for nothing. Camila took her own life and the baby inside her and you got sent to prison.” Vic poked himself in the chest. “It should have been me serving time, not you.”
“I think my sentence might have been easier than yours.”
“That’s a stupid thing to say.”
Cruz spread his arms wide. “What the hell are you doing, man?”
“Isn’t it obvious? I’m trying to win a buckle.”
“If I recall, you hated rodeo.” Cruz chuckled. “I remember when Riley talked you into getting on the back of Make Believe. Remember that ornery horse with one ear?”
Vic smiled at the memory.
“Damn, that horse had a mean kick. You flew right over its neck and landed on your face. Blood spewed from your nose and you cussed up a storm, swearing you’d rather get shot on the streets than bust another bronc.”
If Vic could go back in time, he’d sure in hell make different choices.
“You’ve dedicated your life to something you hate. Why?”
“Rodeo has grown on me.” There was some truth in the statement. Vic had developed a thirst for the adrenaline rush he experienced when he straddled a bronc, and he liked pitting himself against a wild horse, testing his skills. But he’d never lived or died by his next ride like most rodeo cowboys.
“You threw away a lot of years.”
“No more than you were forced to behind bars.” Vic struggled to keep his voice even. “I stole your future from you.”
Cruz’s eyes widened. “You’re not saying what I think you’re saying, are you?”
“I’ve been trying to win you a buckle...the buckle you would have earned yourself if you’d had the chance.”
“Damn it, Vic.” Cruz whipped off his hat and ran his fingers through his hair. “You can’t know that I would have won a championship if I’d had a rodeo career. Hell, who’s to say I would even have stuck it out after the first year?”
“Don’t patronize me.” Vic jabbed his finger in the air. “You wanted a buckle and you were gonna be good enough to win one. Riley said he’d never seen a guy with your natural talent. You had NFR champion written all over you, Cruz.”
“So you think if you win the buckle tonight, everything will be square between us?”
The blood drained from Vic’s face. “I don’t know. Will it?”
“If you’re looking for forgiveness, Vic, just ask for it.”
That was too easy. “I thought a buckle—”
“A buckle isn’t going to make all those years in prison disappear. I’ll be honest with you. I was angry for a long time after I went away.”
It took more courage to look Cruz in the eye than it ever had to ride a mean bronc.
“But I’ve made peace with the past.” Cruz’s mouth drew down. “But I see now that I wasn’t alone serving my sentence behind bars. You were right there with me every day.”
“I didn’t know how else to make it up to you,” Vic said. “I don’t have anything to give you.”
“What about your friendship?”
“How can you want to be friends with me after what happened to you?”
“Life works in weird ways. I met Sara and she helped me through some pretty dark times when I got out on parole.” He smiled. “There’s nothing like the love of a good woman to show you what’s really important in life.”
That was the truth.
“We’d both do well to let go of the past. Better memories are in front of us, not behind us.”
“I’m going to take your advice after tonight.”
“Good. Maybe now Maria will quit worrying about her three amigos.”
Vic chuckled. “I can’t believe I’ve devoted my life to chasing a buckle that neither one of us gives a crap about.”
“That’s a hell of a confidence booster before the final ride of your career.” Cruz grinned. Then his expression sobered. “I don’t look back often anymore, but when I do, I see now that you had it a lot worse than me and Alo
nso. We all had crappy home lives, but you’re the only one of us who had to carry his childhood scars on his face for the whole world to see.”
Vic rubbed the puckered flesh.
“I think we’ve both suffered enough.”
Vic couldn’t agree more, but it wasn’t easy to let go of the guilt.
“What about Alex?” Cruz asked.
“What about him?”
“Maria told me you’re seeking custody of your nephew.”
“If I want to keep him I have to settle in one place and find permanent employment.”
“There’s room for you and Alex at the boys’ ranch.”
“Maybe.” Vic appreciated Cruz’s blessing to live where he and his wife had put down roots, but Vic wasn’t making any decisions until he knew where he stood with Tanya. If he didn’t win, all Vic had to offer his friend was his humble apology.
“If it’s your last go-around, then I hope you’re riding for the right reason.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve already forgiven you, Vic. If you need to win today, then win for Alex so you can give him the life that you and I never had as kids. And win for you so you can finally forgive yourself.”
“How can I not win after that speech?”
“You better. Everyone, including Judge Hamel, is sitting in the stands watching.” Cruz tipped his hat. “Break a leg, dumb-ass.”
Vic grinned. Dumb-ass had been Cruz’s favorite name to call someone when they were teenagers. They weren’t teenagers anymore and if Cruz was willing to let bygones be bygones, Vic had to respect that. For twelve years he’d been torn up inside over what had happened to his friend, and it had only taken a five-minute conversation with Cruz for the burden of guilt to be lifted from his shoulders.
Vic closed his eyes and willed his body to relax. The culmination of years of hard work and dedication was eight seconds away. He left his hiding place and stood with the other cowboys near the chutes. Then he searched the stands for his fan club. He spotted Tanya first—her auburn hair shining among a mass of muted colors. Alex sat next to her, listening to the Fitzgerald twins chatter in his ear. Farther down the row sat Tanya’s parents with Riley and Maria. A pretty blonde with a brown-haired little girl in her lap sat next to Cruz, and at the end of the row Alonso held a pink-wrapped bundle against his shoulder, his wife and her teenage brother by his side. Vic’s extended family. While he’d been chasing his demons to hell and back across the United States, the people who meant the most to him had shown up tonight—for him. And not because they expected him to win a buckle.
Vic’s path in life had led him to this moment—a rebirth. His final ride was an eight-second baptism—the death and burial of his past and the birth of his future and new life.
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the final round of the saddle-bronc competition here at the Thomas and Mack Center in lucky Las Vegas!”
Vic willed Tanya to look his way. She must have heard his heart call out to her, because their gazes connected. She whispered in Alex’s ear, and he looked Vic’s way. Vic raised a hand, acknowledging that he saw them, then placed his palm against his heart. Tanya pressed her fingers to her mouth and blew him a kiss. No matter who came out the winner tonight—him or the bronc—Vic wasn’t leaving the arena until he proposed to Tanya. He didn’t have a ring. He didn’t have much of a plan. He just had his heart to give to her as a down payment on their life together—if she’d have him.
He turned away, needing to clear his head of her image and focus on the present. He buckled his spurs and pulled on his riding glove.
“This is do-or-die time for these cowboys, and we’ve seen some spectacular rides during this event. One cowboy in particular has blown up the score clock this week.” The crowd quieted as they listened to the announcer’s spiel. “Victor Vicario from Albuquerque, New Mexico, is a rodeo veteran who’s had a lot of success the past few years. This is his fourth appearance at the NFR.” Applause thundered through the crowd.
“Vicario has placed either first or second each time out of the gate this week. He and Kenny Higgins from Jackson Hole, Wyoming, are neck and neck in the race for the buckle tonight.
“Up first is Vicario. This cowboy will be strutting his stuff on Cyclone, a two-time world champion bronc from the Kyle J. Reed Ranch south of Tulsa, Oklahoma.” Images of the bronc flashed across the Jumbotron, and music blared through the loudspeakers. When the noise died down, the announcer finished his commentary. “Cyclone spins like a tornado. Let’s see if Vicario has the stamina to go all the way on this bronc.”
Vic closed his ears to the noise and flexed his sore knee. He wore an elastic bandage beneath his jeans, but after a week of tough rides, the joint ached like hell. He turned his thoughts inward, reminding himself to lean left as he came out of the chute to help keep the pressure off his knee. A rodeo helper called his name and he opened his eyes.
He sucked in a deep breath and climbed the rails, then eased onto Cyclone’s back. The bronc behaved—he’d been to this show before and wasn’t wasting his energy in the chute—he’d save his wild side for when he broke free from his confinement. Vic threaded the rope through his fingers, aware of a subtle difference in the tenseness of his muscles. The adrenaline pumping through his body felt different for this ride—euphoric. Instead of the normal anxiety gripping his gut, there was an eagerness to meet this final challenge head-on.
With his love for Tanya and Alex tucked away inside his heart, he nodded to the gateman.
Cyclone shot into the arena, then delivered a series of explosive kicks, challenging Vic like never before. Riley Fitzgerald’s voice echoed inside Vic’s head.
Lean sideways.
A little more.
There you go.
Watch the knee.
Turn your ankle in when you spur.
That’s it.
He’s coming out of the spin.
Balance.
Watch your right shoulder, it’s too high.
Keep that left arm in the air.
You got this.
He’s tiring.
Finish strong!
After years of going it alone and miles and miles of highway paved with guilt, Vic was nearing the finish line. When the buzzer sounded, he double-downed, finding renewed strength as he waited for an opening to dismount. There it was. He threw himself off Cyclone, hitting the ground hard. He rolled to his feet and scrambled to safety. When the rodeo helpers had control of Cyclone, Vic picked his hat up and stood there, his boot heels sinking in the dirt as rodeo fans came to their feet and applauded, the noise deafening.
Buckle or no buckle, this was a hell of a sendoff. He waved to the crowd, then walked out of the arena for the last time. Nothing to do now but wait to see what Higgins did on his bronc.
When he entered the cowboy ready area, his competitors offered their congratulations and then shifted their attention to the score clock, waiting to see what the judges thought of Vic’s ride.
No matter what number flashed across the Jumbotron, Vic’s journey was at an end and he was at peace.
“Ninety-two!” the announcer shouted. The fans erupted in a frenzy, chanting his name. Vic had landed his highest score of the week on Cyclone.
“Higgins has got his work cut out for him!” The announcer waited for the noise to die down. “This cowboy will need a darn near perfect ride on The Devil’s Due, a veteran bronc known for stealing dreams.”
Vic removed his spurs and riding glove and stuffed them into his gear bag. He didn’t care to watch Higgins’s ride. He needed to see Tanya. He didn’t have to go far to find her and Alex. They were waiting for him right outside the cowboy ready area.
As soon as Alex saw Vic, he smiled and raced toward his uncle. Vic dropped his gear bag and crouched down, ignoring the sharp pain in his k
nee. His nephew’s little body slammed into Vic’s chest and he hugged the boy close.
“Hey, little man. I missed you.” Vic glanced up as Tanya approached, her eyes shining with tears.
“Nothing like showing off for your last ride, cowboy,” she said.
He grinned, not giving a damn how it contorted his mouth. Alex patted Vic’s chest and didn’t stop until Vic gave him his full attention. “What is it?”
“Can you come home?”
Hearing Alex speak out loud only convinced Vic he was doing the right thing by walking away from rodeo. “Yeah, buddy. I’m coming home for good now.” Home. No four-letter word had ever sounded so good. He stood up and held out his hand to Tanya. She stepped into his embrace and he buried his face in her neck. “I love you, Tanya.”
Tanya clutched fistfuls of his shirt. “I love you, too, Vic. So much.”
“I’m giving you fair warning right here...right now. We’re getting married.”
She brushed her mouth against his. “I’m going to hold you to that promise, cowboy.” Her shimmering gaze told him without words that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him and Alex.
“We have a lot to talk about,” he said.
Before either one of them had a chance to say another word, the buzzer sounded and the crowd went crazy. Higgins had made it to eight. Vic and Tanya ignored the commotion, their attention focused on each other.
“I’ve already spoken to Mason,” Tanya said. “It was his idea.”
“What idea?”
“Mason could use an extra ranch hand. Do you think you could be happy at Red Rock?”
“I could be happy anywhere you are, Tanya.” If Vic rode fence the rest of his life, he’d be content as long as Tanya and Alex were happy. He’d seen enough of this great country to last him a lifetime, and he was more than ready to set down roots and call Longmont, Colorado, home.
“Mason said he’d give us ten acres to build a house of our own on.”
“You were pretty sure I was going to propose to you,” he said.
