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“That’s what we’re all about here at the Men’s Professional Rodeo Circuit of America—family and exceeding expectations. Next up, more rough-stock events. And cut.” Dolly motioned with her hand and the cameraman stopped filming. “Thanks, guys. I appreciate the segment. Dylan, Sierra Boots is going to eat this up.”
“Excuse me for a second,” Dylan said, gently extracting himself from his mother and following Dolly out of the backstage area. “What are we looking at Sierra Boots for?”
“I’m going to shoot for a $50,000-dollar-a-year contract.”
Dylan blinked. Hot damn.
“Minus fifteen percent for me. You’ll need to put their logo on your trailer and gear, though.”
“Can do,” he said.
“And there’s some behavior rules that they’re going to want you and LeAnn to abide by.”
“What type of rules?” He frowned.
“Don’t worry about that now. Let’s wait and see the contract first. Go enjoy some time with your parents. I’ll be in touch when I hear back from them. They may want to meet you in Oklahoma—that’s where their headquarters are—so keep your schedule open.”
“Okay,” Dylan said. He wanted to keep walking with her, but he knew he had to go back and talk to his parents.
When he returned, his uncle had joined him.
“I’m glad it was you,” Lou said, shaking his hand. “But I wouldn’t have shed tears if you had wrecked.”
“Thanks,” Dylan said dryly.
“Are you really all right?” his mother said.
“I’ve been doing this almost half my life, Mom,” he said in an even tone. But he couldn’t resist adding, “Guess all those summers at Uncle Lou’s paid off.” Did he keep the bitterness out of his voice? He wasn’t sure. But his mother seemed comforted by his words, which was odd.
“That’s good.” She gripped his father’s arm. “I’m glad I listened to you all those years ago.”
“Wait,” Dylan said. “What’s this now?”
“After Danny died, I wanted to keep you close,” she said.
“Smother you,” his father added.
“And you were so hell-bent on doing everything dangerous. When you wanted to do the rodeo events in high school, I panicked. We sent you off to Lou’s so you’d either decide it was too much work to be a cowboy…”
“Or you’d get trained like a professional,” his father said.
Lou puffed up with pride. “I think we can all see what happened.”
That wasn’t how Dylan remembered it. “I thought you were glad to get rid of me.”
“No,” his mother said, shaking her head. “It was hard to be away from you after we lost Danny. It was all I could do not to go out there every weekend and call every night to check up on you,” his mother added.
His father nodded. “We just wanted you to be safe and happy,” he said.
Dylan realized that aside from seeing the way his uncle treated the old farm animals, he had been happy. And all that hard work had helped him work through his feelings about Danny’s death. Looking back, he could now see it through his parents’ eyes. Grief made everyone do crazy things. Johnny Montana’s father shot the bull that had thrown his son to his death. Dylan’s father had sacrificed seeing him daily to gain peace of mind that he’d be safe in the rodeo. This was a lot to unpack. Dylan was left feeling like his world had just taken a giant tilt.
“You gave us a scare today,” his mother said.
“But we wanted to let you know that we’re awfully proud of you.” His father nodded.
Had Fever Dream kicked him in the head instead of the chest? Dylan didn’t think he’d ever hear his father say those words to him.
Clearing his throat because it was clogged with emotion, Dylan said, “Thank you.”
