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“Don’t worry about them,” Beth said. “Though that’s easier said than done. Austin isn’t the type to flirt…I mean, with fans.”
Charlotte felt like she floated on cloud nine, and when she called out to God to help her, she felt more like He only gave her permission to fly. “You’re right. Austin’s not one to flirt. He leaves that to his brother.”
“You gonna make him come find you?” Josie asked, motioning with her head. “Come on. You’ve got to rescue him from the crowd.”
Charlotte laughed as she followed the gals through the throng of fans. Adam leaned over from his dancing horse, signing autographs and smiling for pictures, but Austin carefully controlled his horse, as he rode him out of the throng and toward the cool-down arena, though his eyes searched the crowd. They didn’t rest until they fell upon her.
She walked at a safe distance alongside him in silence, just that intensity between them and an unspoken shift…or was it more of an opening? Something about being near Beth and Josie, two rodeo wives who seemed to love their lives, filled her with a freedom she hadn’t allowed herself to feel before. Maybe a happy medium was possible…maybe they could make something work.
She waited at the railing while Austin cooled down his horse; then he hopped off next to her and pulled her into a hug. Several intakes of breath and disappointed gasps sounded behind her, but she didn’t even turn to see the girls as their footsteps told her they left.
“You found the focus,” she said, her words muffled by his neck, and her senses swimming from the scent of him that filled her.
“I did,” he said. “You give good advice.”
She shrugged. “I understand what it means to compete.”
“You always have. Just now we’re competing in the same arena.”
“Well, sometimes,” she said, making sure her voice sounded more teasing than disappointed.
“Vaulting’s popularity is growing. Soon they’ll offer it at every rodeo.” He stood back and ran a hand down his horse’s neck. “Maybe you should pull Apollo out and put on a little performance, get people excited about it.”
Charlotte laughed at the idea of her doing such a brazen act. “No. It’s fine. I don’t need to compete all the time. Sometimes it’s nice just to come as a supporter.”
He cupped her cheek, sliding a thumb along her jaw. “I’m just glad you’re here.”
“Bro!” Adam called to him, leading his horse into the practice arena. “You did it! You did it again!”
“No, brother.” Austin let go of her to bear hug his brother. “We did it!”
“Just a few more and we’re going to Nationals!” Adam whooped, startling his horse, who he quickly soothed. “Call Pops!”
Charlotte nodded to Austin to go ahead, staying close to offer support. Many times, after talking with Pops, Austin would sink into worry. That’s when he needed her the most.
“Hey, Pops, yeah, we sure did,” Austin said.
“Put him on speaker, bro!” Adam said, waiting for Austin to comply. “We did it again, Pops! Three and eight!”
“Wow, boys, I’m so proud of you two. You’ve worked so hard for this.” Pops sounded winded and tired, his voice strained. “Nationals is just around the corner. You boys are gonna do it this year.”
Austin and Adam looked at each other, the glee draining from their faces. “What’s going on, Pops?” Austin asked, his eyes flickering briefly to Charlotte, who slipped through the railings to be at his side.
“Now’s not the time,” Pops said, but they could hear Mama’s murmured words, though unclear, until finally, she picked up the phone.
“He doesn’t want to tell you boys, but I feel like we need to.” Her voice became muffled as she covered the phone, then she spoke to them again. “I know it’s not a good time, but it never will be a good time.”
“Mama, just spit it out,” Austin said. “Nothing else matters.”
“Pops has…cancer.”
Austin’s hand dropped, the phone sliding out from it. Charlotte caught it before it hit the ground and held it back up between them as she clung to Austin, knowing that was just about the worst news he could have ever received.
“You boys there?”
Neither Austin nor Adam responded. “We’re here, Mama,” Charlotte said, her voice choked with grief. “What can we do?”
“Oh, sweetie! I’m so glad you’re there with my boys.” Mama sniffed. “We’re holding up. Pops starts treatment next week. They say it’s treatable…that there’s hope.”
