The wind was gusty today, tugging at the spindly branches of the rose bush.
“Not sure how this is supposed to go. Most of the things online dealt with loving memories, long talks about how wonderful the dearly departed had been, and that kind of shit. Don’t think any of that applies here.” I shot Jesse a glance. He shook his head after removing his hat. Guess that was as far as my stoic little brother was going. Which was cool. My hat stayed on my head.
“So, uhm, I wrote this poem. I think it’s good. I’ll read it then we can dump the ashes.” My sight moved over the other three gathered. “Unless anyone has anything they want to say?”
“Nope. I got nothing to say. He’s gone. Our lives will be better for his passing.”
I nodded at my brother. Silent, strong, but shaking ever so slightly. Lucas stepped closer to Jesse to offer gentle support.
“Okay, I’ll read this then we can move on with our lives.”
The lid on the basic metal urn unscrewed with ease. I dumped some ash into the wind then passed what was left back to my brother. Aubrey handed me my journal; the page marked with a thin black ribbon. Opening the book, the wind got feisty, swirling around us.
“His horse waits, moonlight on red hairs,
Listening for the whistle that’ll never come,
Stars are out like whispered prayers,
Another cowboy rides home.”
Jesse scattered the rest of our father over the land. No one said a word for a long moment before my brother turned to me, his face tight.
“I’d like this to be a new beginning for us,” Jesse said then held out his hand. “I know we got lots of work to do, emotions, things that we both carried for too long. Fears. Shit, all of that but it feels like a weight has been lifted off me. The air smells fresher. The stink of bigotry blown away with his ashes. Can we stay in touch when you leave for the circuit?”
“I’d like that.” With a choked sound I brushed his hand aside to hug him. Hard. The embrace was returned with equal strength. We stood there for a long time, just holding each other, listening to the birds and the chickens as a Colorado zephyr blew the past away.
Chapter 14
Aubrey
Today was the day.
June fifteenth. Hoyt’s fortieth birthday.
We were heading to Oklahoma to get Adobe. I was bouncing around the house like a hyperactive shrew. A glorious Saturday lay ahead and I couldn’t wait to do this for Hoyt!
So I guess our vows of celibacy have been tossed aside?
Yes, they have. I am no longer bound in the robes of an acolyte. I have cast off my fears and shall revel in the arms of the man I love forevermore. Fare thee well, abbot!
Even if we had rolled out of bed at three in the morning for an early start. Knox men were nothing if not known for getting up with the chickens. Farm living and all that…
This was perhaps the most difficult secret I had ever kept. My propensity to talk all the time plus my adoration of Hoyt made it so hard to not spill the beans. He’d been odd lately, not exactly sad but…unsettled I suppose. My man, my love, my sexy bull rider—I did not have falling head over heels for a reticent cowboy on my bingo card for this year or any other—was seeking solitude even more frequently than usual. Perhaps it was due to the loss of his father but I thought not. If anything,Abel’s passing seemed to have given the Knox brothers a new lease on their lives, and their relationships. Yet Hoyt was distant. Knowing we all required time to just be at one with ourselves, I gave him all the time he needed and then some. Whatever it was that he was gnawing on he would either work out on his own or come to me, probably as we lay tight together in my bed, in the wee hours of the night.
Those moments in the dark with a fan and two cats in our bed were frequent now. His thoughts tumbling out on subjects varied and sometimes frivolous. It occurred to me after the fourth time he rolled to me to whisper about some random thing he’d seen on the internet that this man had never had this before. He’d never once had a lover he could share inane things with as they cuddled in bed. So when he stirred me to wakefulness with a comment, concern, or just an observation, I curled up tight to him and let him talk to me as long as he wished. Many times he would drift off, his arm resting on my hip, sometimes we would fiddle about sexually, and just the other night we ended up outside looking at the sky as he went on about shooting stars. We didn’t see one but that hour seated on the grass as the chickens snoozed in their coop was precious to me. They all were. Which was why when he returned home from rehab I always plastered on a cheery face. This time with him was growing short. He would soon be able to return to the rodeo. And I would be here in Chance wondering how I would ever recover from this second heartbreak. The first one had nearly done me in…
The rattle of a horse trailer being pulled by a truck with some exhaust problems broke into my worries. Today was going to be amazing. Tomorrow was a day away. Just call me Annie.
Racing to the front door, I bounded outside, dressed in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt that readBull Riders have a lot of meat between their legswhich was quite true. Hoyt had done a classicspit-take the first time I’d worn it around the house. Then he had peeled it off me, much to my delight and used his calloused hands to get us both off. Jesse was driving and Hoyt was just exiting the truck when I arrived at the passenger door with my travel bag of snacks, some suntan lotion, and a grin.
“Hey, handsome men,” I gushed, climbing up into the cab then got myself settled on the torn bench seat. “This is so exciting. I’ve never been to a horse auction before.” I peered over my shoulder at the pink trailer we were pulling. “Is that big enough for horses?”
“We’re just looking for a couple new trail horses,” Jesse fibbed as I buckled my seat belt then wiggled over to make room for Hoyt. There was no auction. We were headed to see Mr. Ken Langdon to purchase Adobe back for Hoyt. We’d split the cost of the horse and would divvy up gas expenses on the fourteen-hour ride. A night in a hotel near where Ken Langdon lived was on the docket tonight. Tomorrow morning we’d set out for Snow Creek Ranch with that red roan horse in the back. “Our other trailer, the bigger one, has a flat tire.” That was true but only because Jesse had let the air out of it last night so we could load Adobe into the trailer he remembered.
“Two max,” Hoyt announced as he tugged the dirty buckle out from under the seat then snapped his belt into place. “Not sure why we have to make this trek to Oklahoma when we have a sale barn on the other side of Boulder.”
I shot a look at Jesse who was all sorts of cucumber-cool, his cowboy hat riding low on his brow, his fingers tapping the wheel. Why wasn’t Hoyt driving? Was his shoulder acting up? He had been hitting rehab workouts at home hard. In a hurry to get back to the bulls and chaps. I pouted internally.
