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“Ain’t me refusin’ to talk to him. You’re barkin’ up the wrong twin.”
Jace’s mom came flying out the front door and ran into his father’s waiting arms. He spun her around and gave her a kiss that made Jace blush. That was what he wanted, but doubted he’d ever have—a love so strong that after thirty years, their kisses were still as passionate as when they met.
His father distracted, Jace slipped away from the conversation he didn’t want to have anyway and opened the back of the trailer to unload the bull.
“Gotta come up with a name for ya. Somethin’ fierce is what I’m thinkin’.”
“You talkin’ to bulls, now, instead of your daddy?” Hank was following Jace into the barn. “And don’t you go sayin’ the bull’s got more sense, or I’ll clip you one.”
Jace laughed. “No, I wasn’t gonna say anything like that. But, can we table the Tucker talk? I got nothin’ to say on the subject, and I doubt he did either.”
“Your mama and I aren’t giving up, Jace. You and your brother need to resolve this thing between the two of you. You’re both hurting. In the meantime, you’re missing out on seeing your nephew grow up.”
That was the hardest part for Jace. His brother’s baby was eight months old, and he still hadn’t met him.
“How is Cochran? Growin’ like a weed?”
“He looks just like you.”
Jace laughed again. “Tuck and I are twins, in case you forgot. I’m guessin’ he looks more like his daddy than me.”
Hank raised his eyebrow. “I could tell the difference between you boys from the minute you were born. And I’m tellin’ you; he looks like you, Jace.”
“What do you think of Cowgirl Stinger as a name for this one?” Jace pointed at the bull.
“I like it,” his father smiled. “Seems fitting.”
“Yeah, I like it too. Who knows, maybe it’ll be a female bull rider who’ll be the first to cover him.”
His father put his hand on Jace’s arm. “I’m not letting it go, Jace. We’re gonna talk about Tucker, and we’re gonna do it right now.”
Jace sat down on a bale of hay and settled in for the lecture he knew his daddy was going to give him. Once Hank Rice got something stuck in his craw, there was no dissuading him until he got whatever he had to say off his chest.
The dinner bell rang, a half hour later, otherwise his daddy might’ve talked all night. Both he and Jace knew better than to keep his mama waiting when dinner was on the table.
“What news from Monument?” asked his mother not five minutes into their supper.
“Well, Carol,” his father answered. “There’s a fella in Larkspur I want to go see, and, Jace, you should meet him too. Ty Rinaldo is his name.”
“Heard of him. He’s got a good operation goin’ down there. But, Daddy—”
She rested her hand on his arm. “Jace Porter Rice.”
Jace knew, when his mama used his full name, he’d best keep quiet. Why was it he’d thought living so close to his parents would be a good idea?
“As I was sayin’,” Hank continued. “TZ Bucking Bulls has been a family operation for three generations, and Ty’s gotten in good with the National Western Stock Show. That’s something I’d like us to be a part of. Next year, if we can make it happen.”
Jace wondered if he could come up with an excuse good enough to get out of going to Monument. He doubted it.
Sometime in the middle of the night, Jace heard a raucous coming from the barn. He pulled on his Wranglers and stuck his feet in the boots that were always near his bed. When he got outside, he saw his father headed toward the barn from the other direction. The bulls had broken through the pipe fencing, and there was a fight going on.
In his rush to get to the pen, Jace tripped when his jeans caught on a piece of the broken pipe. When his leg twisted around, he felt a pain he’d hoped never to experience again. The pain was ingrained in his memory, and he had no doubt that an MRI would simply confirm what he already knew. He’d just torn his ACL. Four years prior, he’d torn it skiing. At the time, he doubted he’d ever ski, or ride a bull or a bronc, again in his life. It had been a long road of rehab, most of it self-prescribed, but he’d done it.
Given his injury, Jace and his dad postponed the trip to Larkspur indefinitely. Han
k wouldn’t be able to leave the ranch until Jace recovered, and that might take weeks.
Jace got up and put the brace on his knee. The news hadn’t been as bad as he initially thought it would be. The ligament wasn’t torn completely, only partially. It wasn’t any less painful, but the recovery would be much easier. And quicker.
