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“Bro!” Harry said as he approached the table. Hudson stood up, met his outstretched hand, pulled him in a for a quick hug, a back slap. “Seriously, what are you doing on this side of the pond?”
“Long story,” Hud said as he sat back down. He signaled Audrey, who brought over water and set it in front of Harry.
“Hey, Harry,” she said.
“Audrey.” He glanced at the stage. “Who do we have playing tonight?”
“Oaken Fox. He’s one of Dad’s newest artists, up from Nashville. He’s got an album dropping soon, so he’s working on a tour. Dad wants to get some sound from him onto socials, so he’s playing here this week. Anything besides water?”
“Let me look at the menu. Specials?”
“Sloppy Jacks. And Gray Pony fries are a family basket for three bucks.”
“That’s what I want, but I’ll wait to order until my folks get here.” He set the menu on the table as Audrey walked away.
“So, Dad’s coming?”
“Yep.” Harry leaned back. He wore jeans, boots, and a flannel pullover with the wordsPEAK Rescueon the chest. “Dad was pretty excited.”
“Sure he was.”
“Hud, you need to stop seeing Dad’s reaction to your injury as some sort of rejection. He just didn’t want you getting hurt. Or more hurt.”
“I’m fine.”
Harry gave a tight-lipped nod. “I know. But we’re all just waiting for the day when you’re not.”
Hud shook his head and looked away. But a sigh escaped. He looked back at Harry. “I’m not sure the Vikings have a place on the roster for me next year. And I might have just blown my shot at a team here in the US, and the NFL is such a long shot, so…” He lifted a shoulder. “Maybe I should start working the rust off my cattle-roping abilities.”
Harry laughed. “As if.”
“What? I was a great cowboy.”
“You were eight.” Harry leaned back. “But, Hud, you can do anything you put your mind to—clearly football has taught you that. No one comes back from a TBI and plays pro ball again.”
Audrey came back with the water and potatoes.
“Audrey, this is my brother Hudson. He’s a football player in Europe.”
“You play soccer?”
“American football.”
“In Europe?”
He ran his thumb down his sweaty glass. “Yup.”
“Cool. I’ll get you more napkins.” She walked away as, on stage, the musician set up his stool.
“Audrey is the daughter of local music producer and country music star Ben King.”
“Really.” Hud reached for a potato skin, the smell taking hold of his entire body. He hadn’t eaten since scrambled eggs this morning in a diner near his hotel in Billings. “I’ve heard of him.”
“He’s had a number of hits. He’s married to my chopper pilot over at PEAK Rescue, Kacey.”
“How’s the PEAK gig going?” He nudged the potato plate toward Harry.
“Good,” Harry said. “I think I finally found my footing.”
