by Linda Warren
He was dog tired some days and other days he just didn’t care. The rodeo took all of his energy and that was the way he wanted it. At night he fell into a dead sleep, but her image was right there torturing him, even with the darkness surrounding him.
Chapter Fifteen
In June it was Remi’s birthday and she wanted to spend it in Horseshoe with her grandmother. She went a day early to help Gran. Paxton’s memory was everywhere, but she was better equipped to deal with it now. It still hurt, but she was clinging to her decision with every ounce of strength in her.
In the afternoon she went over and visited Rosie. They talked on the patio while Jake and Dixie, Rosie’s dog, played in a small swimming pool Rosie had bought at Walmart. She was babysitting John, Falcon’s son, and the two boys were splashing around yelling and having fun with the dog. They talked about family and kids. Rosie didn’t mention Paxton and neither did Remi. It was one subject she didn’t want to talk about.
On Saturday her parents came and Ruger did, too. Gran had made a feast, including strawberry shortcake, Remi’s favorite. It was a family day and everyone seemed to enjoy it, even her brother. They were talking at the kitchen table when someone knocked at the door.
Remi stood up. “I’ll get it.”
She opened the door to a FedEx man. “I have a package for Ms. Remi Roberts.”
“That’s me.”
He stuck out a gadget for her to sign. Who was it from? She couldn’t think of anyone who would send her something at her grandmother’s. The family came into the living room to see what was going on.
Ruger brought the box inside and placed it in the middle of the floor. “It’s from Kincaid Boots,” he announced.
Boots! Only one person would send her boots.
Paxton.
Ruger took out his pocket knife and ripped open the box. Remi knelt down and with a shaky hand she lifted the lid. There were three boxes inside. She pulled out the first one and opened it. Inside was a pair of black leather boots with no more than a half inch heel. They were gorgeous and soft and had a zipper up the side for easy access. She ran her hand over the smooth leather and a sob caught in her throat.
She swallowed hard and pulled out the second box, which were camel-colored boots with filigree up the side. They were gorgeous. Hardly breathing, she pulled out the third box. Inside was a pair of cowgirl boots. The most beautiful boots she’d ever seen. The top was turquoise and glittered with rhinestones. The foot part was a light brown with turquoise filigree on the side. She held them to her chest. She liked them the most because they reminded her of him.
No one asked who the boots were from. She gathered them up and carried them to her room. Sitting on the side of the bed, she tried to figure out what to do. Should she thank him? Or just let it go? Or maybe she should send them back. Everything in her screamed no. She wouldn’t hurt him that way again.
She reached for her phone and touched his name. She sent a simple text: Thank you! Then she put on her cowgirl boots and walked into the living room. They fit perfectly and didn’t hurt her feet. How did he know her size? Her black boots were missing and she’d thought she had probably taken them to the nurses by mistake. But she had a sneaky idea that Paxton had taken them.
She twirled around in the living room. “What do y’all think?”
“I think Handsome has good taste,” her grandmother replied.
“Are you okay, sweetheart?” her mother asked.
“I don’t know,” she answered honestly. “I feel like a leaf floating on water and I don’t know which way I’m going to go. Other forces seem to be guiding me.”
“Oh, sweetheart.” Her dad wrapped his arms around her, and she felt safe and secure once again. But she was an adult now and she needed more. She just didn’t know how to make it work with a clear conscience. Standing in her beautiful cowgirl boots, her mind drifted with thoughts of fairy tales and happy endings. Maybe, like Mrs. Ashbury, having a child didn’t matter to Paxton. Maybe love was all they needed.
Could that be possible?
* * *
PAXTON LAY IN bed resting for the rodeo tonight. Keeping up with the younger guys was taking a toll on all of them. Cole and Dakota were asleep also. His phone binged and he rolled over to see who it was. Remi! He jumped up and grabbed his phone, but it was only a text. Thank you! She’d gotten the boots. Why couldn’t she call him? Why couldn’t she at least have called him?
Frustrated, he slammed the phone on the nightstand. So many thoughts ran through his mind, but he had to do what Phoenix had said. He had to wait on her to make the right decision. He now knew what his brother had gone through all those months ago. He never dreamed he could hurt like this.
Unable to resist, he reached for his phone and looked at all the pictures of Annie that Remi had sent him. He had been resisting doing this, but now he let the pain rip through him. Annie should be theirs. He went to sleep with a photo of Remi on his phone clutched tight in his hand.
* * *
AS ALWAYS, HE threw himself into the rodeo. They were either driving to a rodeo or they were at a rodeo. There was no time to go home or time to do anything else. The focus was on rodeo and Vegas. They closed out July with Cheyenne Frontier Days. He beat Barron on the last day and that did a lot for his confidence and his goals for Vegas. Barron had been unlucky and had drawn the bull Misfit. Paxton hadn’t ridden him yet, but he was known to be brutal. Everyone knew the bull was going to be bull of the year and Paxton was hoping to get a chance to ride him before Vegas. Turn It On was another bull known to buck cowboys into the dirt. Top-Notch was another that wreaked havoc. Everyone was at the top of their game and so were the bulls.
July faded into August and the cowboys were getting injured. Paxton hurt his arm in Cheyenne, but with a little ice it was as good as new. Cole broke his finger and Dakota hit his head on a fence, but they were back the next night to ride. That was the way cowboys were. They were always ready.
When the season ended, Paxton relaxed. He’d made the top fifteen, which had been his goal. Barron was still at the top of the standings with Paxton second. Goodready was third followed by Hightower, Cole, Haaz and Dakota. More cowboys followed. They were all headed for Vegas.
Paxton’s bones ached and his chest hurt so he went home to rest for a few days. He had made a lot of money this season so he didn’t feel guilty about not working. But once he was home he couldn’t sit around. He helped Elias build a fence on some land he had cleared. Later he thought of going to see Miss Bertie, but Remi might be there and he had to wait. The waiting was killing him.
September arrived with cooler temperatures and Paxton and his friends hit the circuit again to stay fresh. They were all addicted to the ride. This would be his last season. He was getting older and his body couldn’t take it anymore. That was a hard pill to swallow, but sometimes a man had to admit the truth.
He had Thanksgiving with the family and he and his friends flew out to Vegas for the big show. As always, it was a lot of excitement and flash and glitter and anything else you wanted to see. They got in early to rest and to stay focused. His friends went out drinking and to party. They begged Paxton to go, but that part of his life was over and he had no interest in spending most of the night in a bar with some girl he had never met before hanging on him. He stayed in his room and watched television, wondering where Remi was and if she was thinking of him.
* * *
IN AUGUST, REMI went back to teaching and a lot of things changed in her life. She didn’t have time to volunteer at the hospital anymore and she ended her therapy sessions. She had achieved all of her goals and she was healthy again. Her time now was filled with fresh faces, trusting eyes and hearts full of love. She would miss her elderly patients. A nurse had called and said that Mrs. Dixon had passed away. Remi was sad for a few days, but she knew wherever Mrs. Dixon was
she now had a cigarette.
She was busy and the days passed quickly. Soon Thanksgiving arrived and the family planned to spend it at Gran’s because Ruger wouldn’t come to Houston. Gran mentioned that Paxton was home for Thanksgiving, as if to nudge her. He was just a few miles away and she was tempted, but she held fast.
The National Finals Rodeo was coming up and Remi packed her things and headed for Gran’s. It was the end of the first week in December and they were going to watch the start of the rodeo together. She was so excited that Paxton had made it and she was going to watch every second. She didn’t analyze why it was so important to her. She just had to do it. The show started with a bang and a lot of talk about the younger guys against the older guys.
Who were they calling old?
She saw Paxton as he rode out with the other participants of the rodeo. Cole and Dakota were beside him. “To the left are his friends he travels with,” she pointed out to Gran.
The camera zeroed in on Paxton and the announcer said it was going to be a dogfight between Paxton and Barron Flynn. The announcers talked back and forth and questioned how much juice Paxton had left in the tank. He’d been rodeoing for years and they wondered if this would be his last season.
She wondered that, too.
It seemed like forever before the bull riding came on. It was the last event and Remi’s eyes were glued to the screen. Paxton was the second to last to ride. She held her breath as he slid onto the bull. Paxton appeared strong, vital and all male. Her heart beat a little faster at the thought. Phoenix was on the chute talking to him and helping him with the bull rope. Cole was on the other side. It amazed her that the cowboys competed against each other yet supported one another when they rode. She guessed it was the cowboy way. When Paxton scored a ninety, she jumped up and shouted.
Gran glanced at her. “Have you asked yourself why you’re so excited about Handsome riding?”
“Don’t start, Gran.” Remi resumed her seat and waited for Barron Flynn to ride. She hadn’t watched Paxton ride all season because it would’ve been too painful. She was giving him a chance, was the way she looked at it, but as each day passed she was more conflicted than ever. It had been months and she wondered if he was seeing other girls. She didn’t really want to know the answer.
Barron scored an eighty-nine, and Remi stood and cheered again. Gran gave her a sideways look. Paxton won the night and she was happy for him. But the second night Barron won and Remi had to wonder how long Paxton could keep up the pace with the young kid. But her money was on Paxton all the way.
Sunday night she packed her things and headed back to Houston. She had to teach the next day, but every night during the week she was glued to the TV and she could see what the announcers were talking about. Paxton and Barron were trading wins back and forth. A guy named Goodready was in there and so were Cole and Dakota. But the dogfight was between Paxton and Barron. Paxton had won three nights and so had Barron. They were neck and neck going into the last two days.
On Thursday school let out for the holidays and Remi went back to Gran’s to watch the final two nights. Brady Haaz won and it all came down to Saturday. Who was going to walk away with the title? The announcers were upping the tension. It would either be Paxton or Barron and Remi could hardly wait. For the first time she thought about Paxton losing and her heart ached. She didn’t want him to lose. She wanted him to always win. That was a sobering thought.
The next morning Remi walked out to the pond to watch Henry and Henny. They sat on the bank squawking at each other. She was sure they had a language all their own. Several other geese were on the other side of the pond, but Henry and Henny ignored them. Henny pecked in the dry, brittle grass and seemed oblivious to the forty-degree temperature. Suddenly, Henny stood up and flapped her one good wing. Henry did the same. Henny sank to the grass and Henry followed. He was always there with her. Always.
Remi huddled in her jacket trying to come to grips with everything she was feeling. She loved Paxton; there was no doubt about that. Could they have a life together? Could they have a happy life?
Henny squawked at Henry and Remi stared at the male goose. “Why do you stay here? You can fly. You can be with other geese, but yet you stay with Henny and her broken wing. Why don’t you fly away, Henry?” The goose stood and flapped his wings in an aggressive manner. The other geese were swimming toward them and Henry was on guard.
Why don’t you fly away, Henry? Then it hit her. They mated for life. They were soul mates, just like her and Paxton. Henry didn’t want to fly away because that meant he would have to leave Henny. She was his love. His only love.
Paxton had said the same words to her.
She got up and hurried toward the house, Sadie at her heels. She stopped at the oak tree and remembered the day Paxton had made her the cane. He’d loved her when she’d been pale and thin. He’d loved her all scarred and broken. He’d loved her unconditionally.
How could she have been so blind?
* * *
SATURDAY NIGHT ARRIVED faster than Paxton had really wanted. His body was tired and his bones ached but tonight would be the most important night of his life. Almost. Without Remi, it didn’t mean too much. But he’d worked hard for this and he planned to go out a winner. There was one problem, though. He’d drawn the bull Misfit, the bull only a couple of cowboys had ridden all season. How could his luck be so bad?
Paxton sat in the locker room putting on his chaps and spurs. Phoenix was there, too. Only personnel and cowboys were allowed in the cowboy area, but everyone knew Phoenix and no one said a thing.
“You have to focus, Pax.” Phoenix had been preaching to him about an hour and Paxton was growing tired of it.
“Give it a rest,” Paxton said. “I know what I have to do.”
“I don’t think you do. You look like your dog died or something. You seem to be somewhere else.”
Paxton stood and straightened his chaps. “I just wish she was here. It would mean so much more if Remi was here.”
“Don’t you think she’s watching?”
“What?” He never thought of her watching the rodeo. When she said it was over, he assumed that was it. “Do you think she’s watching?”
“Uh, um, sure.” There was something in Phoenix’s voice, and Paxton knew he was lying.
“You’re lying.”
Phoenix stood. “Okay. Remi’s watching.”
“How do you know that?”
“From Rosie.”
Three little words—Remi is watching—lifted his spirits and riding Misfit became more important than ever. He had to ride for her and his confidence was high. He just had to focus, as Phoenix had said. Grabbing his duffel bag out of his locker, a small smile played with the corners of his mouth. Oh, yeah, he could do this. He turned and came face-to-face with Barron.
An arrogant grin stretched across the kid’s face. “You might as well bow out of this one, old man. That title is mine.”
“You better learn...” Paxton put up a hand to stop Phoenix.
“Actions speak louder than words, kid.” He walked out with Phoenix behind him, feeling ten feet tall and bulletproof.
It was time for the last event of the night—bull riding. The Thomas and Mack Center in Las Vegas, Nevada, was packed with eager fans shouting and yelling, but Paxton didn’t look. He hated seeing all the girls with Heartthrob and Paxton on their T-shirts. His whole family and Jericho were here for the big event. Later, they planned a big celebration, win or lose.
Phoenix stood beside him as they watched the first bull rider take a nosedive into the dirt. Barron was standing six feet away from Paxton. But he made no move to speak to him again, which was just as well. Cole and Dakota flanked Paxton on the other side. Before Cole had to ride, the highest score was eighty-five. Paxton walked with Cole to the chute to help him get ready. His mi
nd now was totally on the rodeo.
Cole scored an eighty-seven and next was Dakota, who scored an eighty-eight. Goodready was next and Paxton watched along with his friends to see what the young man could do at his first National Finals Rodeo. He’d drawn the bull Turn It Up. It was a good ride and everyone waited for the score. Eighty-nine popped up—the highest score of the night. Goodready had set the bar high. Paxton was next. He took a deep breath and walked to the chute.
Cole and Dakota were on one side and Phoenix on the other as they adjusted Paxton’s bull rope around Misfit’s chest. He didn’t want to hear any more advice. He just wanted to ride. But Misfit was shaking the chute trying to get out. They waited for him to calm down and then Paxton slid onto the bull’s back. Misfit began to struggle again. Paxton had to get off as the handlers tried to calm him once again. It was putting a strain on his focus.
Once again he got the signal and slid onto the bull. Beneath him, he felt the power of eighteen hundred pounds of muscle and strength. The speckle white bull with sawed-off horns stank of rawhide, sweat and manure. Paxton was used to that, though. Bulls did not smell like a rose garden. The bull twisted his head agitatedly and snot dripped off the steel bars of the chute. Paxton worked his rosined gloved hand into the handle of his bull rope, flexing his fingers and testing his strength.
“You got it, Pax,” Cole said.
“Just stay focused,” Dakota added.
Paxton didn’t reply. He was shutting everything out. Everything but Misfit.
“Ready?” Phoenix asked.
This time Paxton raised his left arm and nodded. The gate swung open and Misfit reared up on his back legs and vaulted into the arena like a wild bronc. Kicking out with his back legs, the bull went into a spin and then changed directions. Paxton’s head was spinning but he held on, maintaining his position. Just when he thought he couldn’t hold on one second longer, he heard the buzz. Eight seconds. Done. He leaped from the bull, turned a flip and managed to get to his feet. The bullfighters quickly got him out of the way of Misfit, who was charging toward them. Paxton jumped over the fence, safe.
