Coming Home to Maverick

by Sophia Summers

  “I said I would, didn’t I?”

  “Yes, you did.”

  “And I am needed for other things, too.”

  “Oh, right, of course.”

  He stood and slid out of the booth. They did the same, and he very nearly leaned forward to kiss her, a quick peck just like old times. Before it became too obvious what he’d been about to do, he straightened and waved as he walked away.

  She was as much a habit for him as she was new. But he couldn’t be too embarrassed for his awkwardness. Everything around him seemed much more enjoyable. Even the prospect of getting on a bull again in front of his whole town. And it was all because Bailey was back. Could one person really have so much power over his happiness? He knew she could.

  His heart clenched at the question that lingered whenever he thought of her. Was she here to stay?

  Chapter 6

  Bailey found two tickets waiting for her at the ticket booth for the closing-out show of the county fair. And the nostalgic pangs came back full force. The Dawson family tickets. She looked across the arena to a family of hands waving in her direction. She lifted Gracie so she could see, and the two waved back. She laughed and thought her heart might burst with happiness. Why had she ever thought this life confining? How could she have left?

  They made their way around the stand, and she waved at a person here and there. They were good people. Not a single one had pressed her about why she’d left. They seemed ready to give her the space she needed. How had she been so blessed?

  Then a jarring voice threw that sentiment out into the muck bin. “What on earth are you doing back here?”

  “Tiff. Hey, how’re you doing?”

  “Just fine. We’re all the same as we ever were. Picking up the pieces, comforting when necessary. This town has a good heart.” She smirked and exchanged glances with the woman at her side, who Bailey didn’t know.

  “Well, great. Hey, I’m gonna go get our seats.” Bailey hurried away, picking up Gracie so they could navigate the aisles faster.

  “Who was that mean lady, Mom?” Gracie was so much more intuitive than Bailey would have thought any child could be.

  “No one you need to be worrying about, that’s for sure. She might not be so bad. She didn’t say anything really mean, did she?” Her words sounded hollow. Tiff was probably as bad as ever. Bailey wondered—just like she undoubtedly wanted her to—if Tiff had run to comfort Maverick when Bailey left and how much Maverick had enjoyed the attention.

  She shook her head. Bailey had no right to even entertain the thoughts running through her mind. Not after what she’d done, not after what felt like an even larger betrayal now that she was back home with everyone.

  As they approached the family, the Dawsons scooted to make room for her and Gracie right in the middle of their group—right next to Maverick’s mother. She sucked in her breath.

  Under full scrutiny from one of the women she respected most in the world, she cowered. Mrs. Dawson’s eyes stared into her face, making her feel as naked as their days skinny-dipping at the lake. She didn’t deserve this woman’s kindness nor her forgiveness.

  Her eyes remained distant for a moment, calculating, but then she smiled, and her face filled with light. “Welcome home, child.”

  “Oh, Mrs. Dawson.” She reached forward to wrap an arm across her shoulders, but the woman pulled her into a full embrace.

  “It’s Mama to you, even still.”

  As she melted into the woman’s strong softness, Bailey’s worries slipped away for a moment.

  “It’s good to see you, honey.”

  When she finally pulled away, Bailey had to wipe away tears. Then she sucked in a breath before turning to her daughter. “And this is my daughter, Gracie. Honey, this is…” She turned, unsure. If Maverick was going to be an uncle…

  Mrs. Dawson jumped in. “Call me Grandma Dawson.”

  “I have another grandma?” Gracie’s eyes widened like she’d met a princess.

  “Not a for-real grandma. But I don’t have any grandkids of my own yet, so I was wondering if I could practice on you for a while?”

  Gracie’s grin looked like it would break her face. “Yes, ma’am, I mean, Grandma.”

  Nash and Decker chuckled. And Nash winked. “She’s a real charmer. Mama’s gonna be smitten.” He reached out for a fist bump. “Maybe it’ll keep her happy enough she forgets we’re the one barricade to her having heaps of her own grandkids.”

  “I hear you, Nash,” his mom said. “And this is just going to make us all realize even more how important family is. Including marriage and all the blessings that come with it.”

  Nash sat back and shrugged.

  Then the lights dimmed and flashed across the audience. The announcer shouted into his microphone, “And now, we are pleased to present Willow Creek’s one and only Maverick Dawson!”

  The crowd went crazy, the strobe lights flashed, and confetti fell from the ceiling. And then Maverick stepped up to the microphone.

  “Wow, what a welcome! Hello, Willow Creek!”

  Everyone cheered. As Bailey’s gaze traveled over the crowd and saw the families all together, the happiness in every corner, she hoped her daughter would finally have something good in her life.

  “It’s Friday night. You’re at our hometown rodeo. It just doesn’t get any better than this.” Maverick’s head turned, and she felt his gaze. This was the moment he used to salute her when he was riding, but this time, he just looked. She brought a hand up to her mouth and stopped herself from blowing a kiss, but just barely.

  Then she watched as he honored good people in their town, talked up the 4-H program, and read announcements from the local church. Everyone loved him just like they had his father. Her heart swelled with pride. And a mean streak of insecurity.

  She shrank into her seat, grateful that Gracie was playing around with Nash and Decker. Maverick deserved better than what she’d given him. She couldn’t just show up in his life and hope that her messed-up pieces would mesh with their put-together pictures.

  She thought she could do anything for Gracie, but as she looked at the amazing man in front of her, her parade of failures just about ground her down to the dust covering the arena floor.

  How could she explain Daniel to anyone? How could she ever explain him to Maverick? The creep had offered her the world, all her dreams, fame, the ability to sing. She’d been naïve.

  She shook her head. She’d tried to get past this. She’d left him, hadn’t she? Sort of. She’d crawled away from him, a complete failure. No one had wanted to sign a deal with her. Daniel said he’d tried, but she just wasn’t what they were looking for. And then he’d moved on. She started smelling perfume on him. She’d looked at herself in the mirror one morning after another night alone and told herself she’d gone as low as she was willing to go. She’d packed her bags and headed to a motel.

  She squeezed her eyes tight against the tears that wanted to come.

  Mrs. Dawson’s soft hand reached around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. “Now don’t you worry. You’re home now. Whatever it is, we can make it right.”

  Bailey shook her head, but she leaned into this strong woman who she’d always loved and whispered, “Thanks.”

  Then Maverick announced the first event: calf roping. “And to start us off, three-time rodeo champion with the second-place world record, doing a special presentation just for our audience tonight, let’s hear it for Dylan Dawson!”

  The crowd went crazy, and a group of women across the way screamed, “Dylan!” and held up a huge banner with his name on it.

  Bailey laughed, and Mrs. Dawson clucked. “Oh, that’s no way to win my Dylan.”

  Then the calf raced out into the arena with Dylan right behind him, spinning a lasso up above his head. It spun once, twice, then he threw it, caught the calf, jumped off his horse, wrapped the calf’s legs, and stood.

  “Wow, that’s incredible!”

  “He’s gotten even faster. W
e think he might win that first-place record.”

  Bailey nodded.

  Nash and Decker stood. “We need to go get set up backstage.” Nash high-fived Gracie. “I’ll see you later, princess.”

  Bailey smiled. Gracie wouldn’t know what her real name was anymore with all the pet names she had acquired.

  The clowns came out, and Gracie waved and squealed and jumped up and down. When they gave her a carnation, she thought her life was made. Then Maverick stepped back up to the microphone. “We will now announce the mutton bustin’ contestants. As you know, seven lucky children from the audience will get to compete tonight, riding on the back of the sheep of their choice. The mutton buster who stays on longest wins a trophy and a new pair of Black Paw cowboy or cowgirl boots.”

  Everyone cheered, and Gracie asked, ‘What’s this?”

  “It’s fun! The kids get to ride a sheep.”

  “I wanna do it.”

  “Next time. We have to enter your name before the event.”

  Maverick read off the names: Tommy Rose, Julie Cadwell, Sally Jo Finway. Then he paused and looked right at Bailey. “Gracie Hempstead.”

  “What! Did he say my name, Mama?”

  “Yes, he did, darling. That means you get to ride a sheep if you want to.” Had Maverick added her name at the last minute?

  “I want to!” She jumped up, and Bailey joined her.

  “Could all the children please meet down by the mutton bustin’ chutes near the Black Paw Boots sign.”

  Gracie skipped forward, pulling on her hand, and Bailey had to follow her. When they arrived at the sign, the arena staff gave each child a helmet and vest and then went over how things were going to go. Bailey hardly heard a word. Gracie jumped up and down with excitement until the first child was lowered down into a tall wooden slip and onto the back of a sheep.

  Gracie’s worried voice tugged at Bailey’s awareness. “I don’t want to, Mommy.”

  “Oh, what? Well, honey, that’s okay.”

  Maverick approached. “What did I hear? Is our Gracie about to be a star?”

  “A star?”

  “Sure! Did you know that all the contestants are gonna be on TV today?”

  “Really? Like, will Grandma see me?”

  “She sure will. Come here, let me show you how this works. I’ve got some tips on how to win this thing.” He winked at Bailey and brought her daughter over to the chute. They peeked down while the second contestant was lowered onto the next sheep.

  As Bailey watched, her love for Maverick grew. The familiarity and love from her younger years expanded. Such a good man did not deserve someone like her, and he sure didn’t deserve what she’d done to him. Why hadn’t younger Bailey seen what was so obvious to her now?

  On the day of their wedding, she had stared and stared at his picture in her bridal room. She willed him to be enough, prayed he’d be enough, wished, cried, and hoped she could find satisfaction in this life, in a small-town home with Maverick. But something inside had turned away and grabbed the selfish path, had reached for her dream. Wasn’t that what people said to do? Go after your dream, or you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.

  So she had, and what did she regret? She looked down. She regretted ever leaving in the first place. But as she watched her daughter, she realized she couldn’t regret everything.

  And then it was time for Gracie to sit on the sheep. When Gracie shook her head no, Bailey was about to rescue her from Maverick’s encouragement, but he held up a finger, so she waited. And then a moment later, Gracie nodded, gave Maverick a fist bump, and allowed the staff to lower her down onto the back of a sheep.

  Bailey ran forward. “You got this, honey. You can do this. Just listen to Uncle Maverick.”

  Her little girl grabbed onto the sheep’s fleece, closed her eyes, and buried her head into the side of the animal.

  Bailey’s fists clenched as the gate opened and the sheep tore out into the arena. The announcer called out, “Gracie Hempstead on the back of sheep number five.”

  Huge cheers tore out from the Dawson brothers backstage, and Bailey watched the clock. “What does she have to beat?”

  “Six seconds.”

  “That’s it?”

  “It’s harder than it looks. But she’s a rock star. And the youngest one out there.”

  Her sheep tore out across to the far end of the arena. It kicked up its back legs, and Bailey thought for sure Gracie would be thrown, but she clung on.

  “Yes!” Maverick cheered under his breath.

  The clock counted, four, five, six…

  The sheep tore back toward them, racing faster and faster.

  Seven, eight… The crowd erupted in cheers. Nine. Ten.

  Her sheep stopped abruptly, and Gracie toppled to the ground. The clowns ran forward and dusted her off. Over the loudspeaker, they all heard, “Gracie Hempstead, from right here in Willow Creek, is the winner and this year’s new record holder with an amazing score of ten seconds. Congratulations, Gracie Hempstead!”

  They led her back, and as she walked out of the arena, she turned and waved to Grandma Dawson. Then she picked up her feet and came tearing through the gate and up into Bailey’s arms. “I did it! I did it!”

  “You sure did, honey. I’m so proud of you.”

  “I am too.” Maverick rested a hand on her back. “Did you hear? You’re a county champ now.”

  “I am?”

  “You sure are. You get to stand on the podium next to Uncle Dylan and receive your trophy.”

  Her eyes widened. “Wow.”

  They laughed. And Bailey said, “Thank you. She’ll never forget this.”

  “Oh, there’s more to come. She’s a natural. We’re gonna get her riding horses. Maybe she can be a barrel racer like her mom.” He paused. “Anyway, it was special to get to help her like that. Thanks.” He nodded his head and turned away.

  She knew he was busy—he had another event to announce—but she also knew he was running away because things had gotten too personal. And she couldn’t blame him. She was a mess, and he deserved better.

  Chapter 7

  Maverick was a mess. He was finally ready to admit it. Every new event he announced, he kept looking at his girl in the stands just like he used to. Only she wasn’t his girl. What even were they? She hadn’t explained why she left, and he didn’t know how long she was staying.

  Why did he ask her out? To torture himself. If his brothers could hear his thoughts, they’d send him away on a horse to figure himself out. He laughed. That’s what his dad used to do to them. Any time they were not acting like themselves, they were sent off on a horse to figure it out. Looking back, he saw the wisdom in that. He wondered if he’d ever be half the man his father was.

  He wondered if he’d ever get to be a father. For many years, he’d almost given up on the idea. But now…

  He shook his head.

  Nash and Decker and Dylan approached. Nash had just wasted the world record for bronc riding, and Decker had thoroughly entertained everyone on the back of a bull.

  “You’re going in tonight,” Decker said.

  Maverick bristled. He’d already been thinking about it, and he’d promised Gracie. So why was Decker coming at him like this? “Oh yeah?”

  Nash faced him on Decker’s other side. “Yeah. It’s time you got off your duff and took the reins on the sort of life you actually want.”

  Fire bubbled up from out of nowhere. “Because it’s so easy to just selfishly do whatever I want.”

  “You saying I’m selfish?” Nash bristled.

  “I’m not saying anything. If you went there, you should take a look in the mirror.”

  Decker stepped closer. “Hey, now. Whoa. This was meant to be funny. We have an idea to get Bailey out there, too.”

  Maverick listened—the idea had merit. He nodded. “We’ll do it next time. Tonight’s not the night for that kind of stuff.”

  Nash was about to argue, but Maverick cut him off. �
�I said I’d do it. If you want Bailey involved, though, you need to give her some time.”

  They high-fived each other, and as his brothers walked away, Nash’s voice carried back to him. “Maverick Dawson, back in the saddle.”

  He sure liked the sound of that. He liked being on the rodeo floor. That’s why he agreed to emcee the county rodeos as often as he did. He loved the energy. He loved the whole show, and if he could be a part of it, he was not gonna turn down the opportunity. But ride a bull? Gracie’s wide eyes looking up at him floated back across his mind’s eye. He’d told the little girl he would ride. So he was gonna ride.

  He made his way down a long hall and into the costume shop. Somewhere in here was his old gear.

  “What can I get for you, darling?” Nellie sat at a table, mending clothing. She’d been here as long as he could remember. She’s what kept them looking good.

  “I’m looking for my old gear. Or any costume, something to wear out there.”

  She jumped up out of her seat and rushed to the back. Then she returned, carrying the costume he’d worn during his last two rodeo circuits.

  “Wow, it still looks like new.”

  “I’ve been taking care of it for you.”

  “Someone else could have worn it. I donated it.”

  “And here you are, needing it again. You just trust that Nellie knows her stuff.” She pushed the glasses up on her nose. “Besides, no one would ever wear your gear. It’s yours, same as that record of yours no one can touch.”

  He chuckled. “Well, thank you. I appreciate you taking care of this for me.”

  She nodded and went back to work, but her small smile told him how happy she was. She was a dear old lady, an icon of the rodeo.

  He slipped into a dressing room. He used to have one with his name on it. The dim lighting, the wall full of mirrors, the smell. He closed his eyes. Horses, manure, popcorn, and barbecue. What a mixture.

  As soon as he had himself all spiffed up, he took a moment to review his mental game before getting on the bull. Be lithe, be soft, grip the straps, move with the animal. Know when to let go.