by Lori Wilde
Tears glistened in her eyes.
Tension strung between them, tight as a cinch rope. They were both broken and in pain. It was all too much. This had been one of the worst days of his life, and he felt like he had when Widow Maker had scooped him up and thrown him across the arena—hot, sweaty, and scared as hell.
“I don’t know what’s to become of us without her.” Her breathing was shallow.
“What do you mean?” Terror took hold of him.
“We married because of her. We would never have come together otherwise.”
“We’re good together. So damn good.”
“But was that just because of Julie?” Her voice came out crippled and small. “What have we got in common without her?”
“Tea, I—”
She put her index finger over his mouth. “Shh, listen to me. I think there’s a lesson here for me.”
He rocked back on his heels, giving her every drop of his attention. “I’m listening.”
“I’ve had trouble in my life letting go of things. I hold on too tightly. You asked me before why I like helping so much.” She paused, closed her eyes, took a deep breath. “I think I’ve got an answer for you now.”
His stomach and throat twisted. He didn’t say anything and waited for her to continue.
“Taking care of people makes me feel in control of my destiny. I thought I needed that feeling of control because I was afraid of losing everything. And the more things I lost, the tighter I clung to my caregiving ways. But with you, and Julie, I realized that every day is a beautiful gift. And with this gift came another gift.”
“What was that?” he asked, fear beating his heart like a drum.
“The choice to trust that life is good and on my side. I can’t do that if I can’t let go.”
“Are you saying you want to let me go?”
“I’m saying I have to let you go. You quit the circuit because I pressured you. You weren’t ready to leave. I was operating out of fear. Terrified I was going to lose you the way I lost Kit. But if I trust life, I must trust that I am going in the direction that’s best for both of us in the long run. So I can choose to let go of my fears, let go of the past, and trust that life will take us both to where we can be happy and joyful. If I don’t, if I keep hanging on and not trusting, I’m going to stay stuck in my suffering.”
“I don’t understand.”
“My Granny Blue says that because I hear a humming noise when you kiss me that we are destined to be together. I didn’t believe in the legend before you, but then I heard the humming and knew it was true. I have to let you go. I have to let you grow. And I have to go too.”
“But will we ever be together again?”
She cupped his cheek with her palm, her smile filled with love and caring. “If it’s the best thing for us, we will be.”
“And if it’s not?” His voice quaked.
“Then we’ll both have to accept that despite Granny Blue’s humming, it’s not meant to be.”
He blew out his breath. She needed time alone, that much was clear. He had to give her space whether he liked it or not. He had to respect her wishes even as it was eating him up inside.
“You should go back on the road.”
“What will you do? Will you stay here?”
“I can’t.” She shook her head. “I couldn’t bear it without you and Julie.”
“Where will you go?” he asked, completely befuddled by her logic. It didn’t make sense to him, but the earnestness on her face told him she was serious.
“I still have the lease on the duplex. I’ll go back to El Paso. Back to my job. There’s nothing for me here now that Julie’s gone. You’ll be on the road. I’ll have nothing to do but rattle around this house. There are kids in El Paso who need a NICU nurse. I need to be needed, Rhett. You know that about me.”
“Tea, I thought we were a family.”
“We were.” She lifted her shoulders to her ears, let them slump down hard. “And now we’re not. Without Julie, what’s the point? We married because of her and now that she’s gone . . .”
He squatted in front of her, took her hands in his. “You’re just feeling blue.”
She shook her head. “No.”
“Are you saying . . .” He paused, hitched in his breath, braced himself for the answer he dreaded. “Are you saying you don’t want to be married to me?”
“We married in haste. We didn’t marry for love—”
“But we found love. We love each other, right? I love you.” He heard his voice crack like fragile ice on a winter pond. “Do you love me?”
She touched his cheek with her palm. “More than words can say.”
“Do you still hear the hum when I kiss you?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, I do.”
“I’m the one you’re supposed to be with. I’m your soul mate.”
“Soul mates don’t always get to spend a life together.” Her eyes turned misty again, and she ducked her head.
“Tara.” He hooked two fingers under her chin, tilted her head up, forced her to meet his gaze. “I don’t want to go back on the circuit. I want to stay here with you.”
“No. I can’t allow you to do that. The rodeo is everything to you.”
“You are more important than any damn rodeo.”
“It’s your life, your dream, your passion.”
“You’re my passion!”
“I can’t allow you to give up your one chance at greatness for me.”
“Are you breaking up with me?” He couldn’t believe this.
“Rhett, you deserve a woman who can give you children, especially now since you’ve lost Julie. You know how wonderful it is being a parent. I cannot deprive you of that joy.”
“I still have Julie,” he said. “We can still have Julie.”
“Part time. Visitations. She’s won’t be in your life day in and day out when Rhona gets permanent custody.”
He sat down hard on the floor in front of the rocker, feeling devastated, not knowing what to say or do. Nothing could make this better. They’d lost the love of their lives. She was right. What were they without Julie?
He searched her face, saw nothing but sorrow etched there. “We’ll sleep on this. Things will look brighter in the morning. No rash decisions.”
“Says the king of rash decisions.” She laughed, but the sound was as hollow as the hole in his ragtag heart.
She reached out a hand to him. He took it.
He had so many things he wanted to tell her. How he appreciated and respected her. How these past few months with her meant the world to him. How she’d changed him in countless positive ways. But he did not say those things; if he started talking like that, he would start crying too, and she needed him to be strong for her. He would not let her down.
“I miss her already.” She brought the baby blanket to her nose and inhaled deeply.
“I miss her too.”
“This was even harder than I thought it was going to be. This morning, we were so sure we were home free. And tonight, we’re splintered.”
“Oh, Tara.” He pulled her from the rocking chair and into his lap. He kissed away her tears, then claimed her mouth. He should not be kissing her right now. She was too vulnerable. But so was he. Grief sex. It wouldn’t fix anything, but right now, they both needed something to cling to.
She kissed him back with an urgency and desperation born of sorrow and shattered dreams. It was a frantic, hungry kiss. The kiss lovers shared after a funeral to prove they were still alive.
The next thing he knew they were ripping each other’s clothes off. Buttons popped. Shirts floated. Boots flew. Pants unzipped.
Instantly, they were ripe and ready for each other. Her body slick and wet, his hard and strong. They grappled for each other, merging mouths and limbs. He took her right there on the carpet. Neither of them thinking of protection. No condoms. No birth control. Just feral grief sex, raw and aching.
He enjoyed her in a whole new way. A d
eeper, more mature way. Lovemaking filled with regret and sadness, tenderness and tears. And at the back of his mind, this mantra throbbed: You have to let her go. You have to set her free.
It would be so easy to be selfish. To hold on to her. Keep her close. He’d been selfish for twenty-eight years. Until Julie. Until Tara.
They’d taught him so much about what it meant to be a man, a father, and a husband. His own needs did not matter. If Rhona was the better parent as deemed by a court of law, he would accept it. He wasn’t happy about it, but he would make peace with it. Do his best. Father her as much as he could.
Julie came first, always.
And as for Tara, he was going to set her free to find happiness with someone who wasn’t weighed down with so much baggage. He couldn’t give her what she wanted more than anything in the world. A baby of her very own.
What a tragedy!
For almost an hour they made love on the floor of the nursery. Finally, in the end, they came together in one final push. Crying out in unison. Clutching each other. Panting and grasping with salty, sweet sorrow.
When it was over, she rested her head on his shoulder, and he wrapped his arm around her. They stared up at the ceiling, winded and worn out.
Neither of them spoke. Was this, then, really the end of them? Hope could be a dangerous thing, but hope he did.
He stroked her hair from her face. She traced her fingertips over his nipple. He shivered. She laughed. They went at it again.
Sometime later, in the darkness of the room, Tara spoke. “Loss is a part of life.”
“The bad part.”
“Without the rough parts we wouldn’t appreciate the good ones.”
“How did you get so smart?” he asked.
“With great age comes great wisdom,” she teased, and it heartened him to hear the lighter tone in her voice. “Remember, I am four years older than you.”
“Maybe when I’m your age I’ll be as wise as you are.”
“I’ll always be ahead of you, buddy, and don’t you forget it.” She poked him playfully in the side with her elbow, as if they would be together in four years.
“Tara,” he said, “this situation sucks.”
“I know,” she said.
There was a great pause. A chasm of silence neither of them rushed to fill. Rhett rolled away from her, unable to keep this up. The second her body was gone, his chest got tight again.
“For what it’s worth, you’re an amazing wife and mother. I consider myself lucky to have spent time with you.”
“You’re not half bad yourself, Lockhart.” She chucked him on the shoulder with her little fist, her eyes bright, belying the shakiness of her smile. “Do me a favor, will you?”
“Anything. Everything. Just name it.”
“When you get back to the rodeo, beat the pants off Claudio.”
“Now that,” he drawled, “I absolutely intend on doing.” Then he picked her up, took her to bed, and made love to her as if it were the very last time they would ever make love.
When he woke up, it was dawn and Tara was gone.
On her pillow, she’d pinned a note. He unpinned it. Read it.
To my dearest husband,
You have brought so much joy into my life. So much fun and spontaneity. I couldn’t have asked for a better partner. Even when we’re not together, my heart is always with you. Know that. I hate to slip off without saying good-bye, but one good-bye per day is enough, and losing Julie knocked the wind right out of my sails. I hope you understand. Text me when you get to your next destination.
With all my love,
Your soul mate, Tara
Rhett clutched the note to his chest and smiled and cried and vowed he would bring that big-assed gaudy trophy home for her to polish, and then he’d retire and spend the rest of his days trying to make this up to her.
Chapter 27
Seeing daylight: The term used when a cowboy comes loose from a bull far enough for the spectators to see daylight between the cowboy and the animal.
“May I join you?” Katy Jones, one of the other NICU nurses, asked Tara on her second day back at the hospital.
Tara was trying to find her way in a post-Julie, post-Rhett world, and she wanted to be alone. She was on her lunch break, eating by herself in a nearly empty cafeteria at midnight, a container of yogurt, an oversized banana, and a box of animal crackers in front of her.
Katy, who had a plate with scrambled eggs and a pile of bacon from the short-order grill, didn’t even wait for Tara to invite her. She set down her tray and pulled up a chair. She eyed Tara’s food. “That’s a lot of carbs.”
“CareFlite is bringing in a preemie from Big Bend,” Tara said. “The mom went into labor during a weekend camping trip with her family. I need the energy. Thought I’d grab some lunch while I could. They’ll be touching down in twenty.”
“How early is the preemie?”
“Six weeks.”
“Who goes camping in Big Bend when they’re seven and a half months pregnant?” The woman asked the rhetorical question. She placed a strip of bacon on Tara’s plate. “You need fat and protein too.”
“Thanks,” Tara said, crunching the bacon and remembering how Rhett made the best bacon. The right amount of crispy.
“When did you start eating animal crackers?”
“Julie.”
“Oh.” Katy reached a hand across the table, laid it on top of Tara’s. “How are you doing?”
“Good, fine,” she lied.
“So you and Rhett?” The other nurse looked at her ring finger. Tara didn’t wear jewelry beyond a watch at work. “Calling it quits?”
“We’re on hold for now,” Tara said.
“Limbo land, huh? That sucks.”
Tara peeled the banana slowly.
“You love him, right?”
“So much,” Tara murmured.
“Then why are you here? Why aren’t you on the PBR circuit with him, waiting in his trailer for him every night when he gets finished?”
“I’d go stir-crazy.”
“Are you planning on divorcing him?”
Tara nodded again, felt a hot tear hit the back of her hand.
“For God’s sake, why?”
“He deserves a woman who can give him children. He’s an awesome dad. I can’t tie him down when I can’t offer him more kids.”
“What about surgery?”
“It’s no guarantee.”
“That was over two years ago when you got your diagnosis. There have been a lot of advances since then. There’s a new procedure—”
“I don’t want to get my hopes up.”
“Tara Alzate,” her friend scolded. “That is so unlike you. You’re not a quitter and you’re the bravest person I know. Doesn’t he get a say in any of this? What are you so afraid of? Getting pregnant and riding off into the sunset with the love of your life?”
They were legitimate questions. Tara sat there staring at Katy, pondering it. Was she afraid to be happy?
“Omigosh.” Katy leaned forward. “I’ve got it. You’re afraid that if you let yourself be happy something bad will befall you or those you love. You were happy with Kit, and then he died. You were happily pregnant, and then you lost the baby. You were happy to be Julie’s foster mother, and then the rug got pulled out from under you again. Oh, my dear girl! You poor thing.”
Was Katy right? Could it be true? Tara placed a palm over her chest. Was it the reason she’d separated from Rhett? In her distorted fear, did she believe that if she stayed with Rhett something terrible would befall him?
Yes, yes, she did. Mouth agape, she slumped back in her chair, stared at her friend wide-eyed.
“From the look on your face, I’d say I nailed it.” Katy buffed her knuckles against her scrub top. “I missed my calling. I should have gone into psych.”
Tara’s phone pinged a text. It was the NICU telling her CareFlite had landed. “Gotta go.”
The first thing she did when she
got home after her shift was call her gynecologist and schedule an appointment.
With Tara working night shifts, she slept during the day. There wasn’t a good time for Rhett to call her. They did the best they could, but their texts and Skype sessions grew fewer and farther between as the circuit schedule grew more and more intense going into the finals.
After taking off those three weeks for the concussion, Rhett had dropped in the ratings but there was still a possibility he could win if he drew the best bulls and rode his heart out. Claudio was leading the pack.
To keep from getting depressed about losing Julie and not being able to see Tara, Rhett threw himself into a grueling fitness routine. Working out five or six hours a day when he wasn’t riding or driving his trailer from event to event.
Then it was November and they were in Vegas. He’d been here before, one of the rare few thirty-five cowboys. The best bull riders in the world. He was currently ranked at number five. It all came down to this. T-Mobile Arena buzzed with excitement on the final day of the five-day event. Media was everywhere. The Vegas Strip was crowded with revelers wearing cowboy boots and Stetsons and PBR merchandised gear.
Tara had called him early that morning after she got off work to wish him good luck. Just hearing her voice infused him with renewed zeal.
Tonight would be the pinnacle of his career. Tonight he was going to take home the championship. He believed it without a shadow of doubt.
But when it came down to it, when it was his turn to ride, and he went to the chutes, he knew that he did not want to be there. No trophy could make up for what he’d lost. No grandstanding could make things better.
“Ready?” his manager asked. “This is your night to shine.”
Rhett stood there listening to the roar of the crowd, smelled the pungent aroma of the arena, tasted victory that could be his if he wanted. For twenty-eight years he’d dreamed of this. It was his everything.
But now, that dream seemed silly. Like the dreams of a child. Riding was in his blood. He didn’t deny it. But it was just riding.
Tara and Julie were what really mattered. They were his life.
Before the two of them, he was a shadow of a man, a hollow boy who placated himself with bulls and booze and women. He saw so clearly now what others had seen in him that he’d been blind to—he’d been a smooth, charming, fun-loving man-child.