Lacey nudged him with her elbow. “Where’s that signature move? Your fans are waiting.”
He shot her a grin from under the brim of his hat, a move he’d made hundreds of times for the cameras, and she laughed.
“There it is. Give the people what they want.” She picked up her hat by the crown and waved it as they passed a few people sitting in their front yard with what looked like a bag of boiled peanuts.
He snickered. “Talk about a signature move.”
She gave him a saucy shrug as she placed her hat back on her head. “Just how does this thing end?”
Devin waved to a few kids who were shouting his name and then leaned close to her ear so she could hear him. “At the town square for a barbecue.”
As the parade passed, people would walk behind it, or get in their cars and drive to the square. There were inflatables and games for the kids and a band playing music for dancing.
The sun was starting to set as they pulled into the parking lot. The string lights had been turned on over the dance floor and Mayor Grant was there to meet them. She helped Lacey out of the car and said, “You guys are almost off the hook. I’m just going to introduce y’all and then we’ll have the opening dance and you’ll be released to eat as much barbecue as you like—on the house.
“Wait...dance?” Lacey’s feet stalled out and she shot him a get-me-out-of-this look.
“Mayor, I think you and your husband should open the dance floor, as the ‘first couple’ of Red Hill Springs.” Devin looked down at his cane. He wasn’t sure exactly how he was going to be able to pull this off.
“It’s tradition that the marshal opens the dance floor.” Wynn Grant glanced down as she followed his gaze to his cane and her words trailed off. “I mean, unless you don’t think you can?”
He had no idea if he could, really, and that fact was galling. “No, I’m fine. Of course we’ll do it.”
Devin limped onto the stage with Lacey beside him as the remainder of the parade stragglers gathered around. The screams and laughter of kids jumping in the bouncy houses filtered through the band’s soft country music.
Wynn tapped the mic and cleared her throat. “Now, some of y’all know that we asked these rodeo sweethearts to be the marshals of the parade at the very last minute and they were nice enough to agree. So, I’d like to introduce four-time world champion barrel racer Lacey Jenkins and three-time world champion saddle bronc rider Devin Cole.”
There were some whistles and cheers. Devin took off his hat and gave a little head bow. He held his hand out to Lacey, who curtsied to the crowd.
Mayor Grant said, “I’ve just learned that Devin and Lacey are newlyweds, so how awesome is it that they’ll be opening the dance floor for us tonight?” She half turned to the band. “Take it away, boys.”
As the band started to play, Devin wanted to fall straight through the dance floor. He was pretty sure that if there were an award for World Champion of Awkward Moments, he would be sporting a brand-new belt buckle. He painstakingly made his way down the stairs and leaned his cane against the stage.
As he held his hands out to Lacey, he knew she was thinking he’d never turn away from a challenge, even when it was the right thing to do. She had every right to be mad, but she didn’t leave him standing there. Instead, she stepped into his arms as the band sang about forever.
He looked into her eyes and smiled, shaken as his memory transported him back to Vegas. The same song was playing, but Lacey’d had a very different look in her eyes then. Instead of wariness, there was trust. Instead of careful conversation, there’d been laughter. Devin had twirled her out and when she spun back into his arms, she’d fit like she belonged there.
He’d blacked out almost everything that happened that night—the night they got married—but this moment he remembered. Because from the time he entered rehab, that dance became his anchor.
The moment before he hit rock bottom.
How was it that marrying Lacey was both the best and worst thing he’d ever done? His heart ached, his chest tight with emotion. She was his forever person. He knew it. But he also knew that back then he hadn’t owned what it took to stick around.
She knew it, too. And that’s why he couldn’t be offended that she looked like she’d rather be in a pit of snakes than dance with him in front of the whole town. Or kiss him in the kitchen.
Of course she didn’t want to be with him. Because he was definitely the worst decision she’d ever made.
He led her into a twirl under his arm and brought her back in, lacing his fingers with hers with a smile just for her. When she laid her head on his shoulder, he slid his hand up the small of her back and just held her.
Devin didn’t know what the future held. But he loved her. That much, at least, he knew.
A firecracker popped a few feet away and as Devin jerked his head around his feet stumbled. Without missing a beat, Lacey caught him, balancing the both of them. And in that second, his resolve stumbled, too.
He could stay sober, but he couldn’t fix what was broken. His grandpa used to say, “Devin, you can’t make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear.” As a kid, he’d thought that was ridiculous. Because who wanted a silk purse anyway?
But Devin wanted Lacey to have the silk purse. He wanted her to have everything she needed, the best of everything. As much as he wanted to deny it, he couldn’t. He wasn’t the best. At anything.
And Lacey deserved so much more.
Chapter Eight
Lacey arranged small bunches of daisies in the buckets lining the bed of the old red Chevy truck. She finished the scene off with a chalkboard sign that indicated two dollars. The weather was warm and humid but the breeze kept it from being oppressive.
Devin was being uncharacteristically quiet. Perched precariously on a step stool, he leaned forward to hang her handmade-quilt-square bunting from the edges of the tin roof.
He wobbled as he reached out with the staple gun, and she flinched. “Maybe we should wait for Garrett to put that up.”
“I don’t need you to baby me, Lacey. I can put up the bunting without you hovering every second.”
She pressed her lips together to keep from saying what she wanted to say, which was that he was an idiot. Instead, she took a deep breath and tried another tack. “What I mean is that with two sets of hands, it would be easier.”
Not to mention safer.
“No.”
Okay, then. She mentally raised her hands in defeat as she backed away from the building, but she didn’t exhale until Devin had the bunting secured without killing himself.
She gave it a critical eye. “The bunting is really cute. It gives the place the feeling that it’s been here awhile. I think the truck needs to come back about a foot, but other than that, once the vegetables are in the bins, we’re ready to go.”
He got off the step stool, hopping on his good foot until he had his balance. He was so stubborn. “I’ll push the truck back.”
“Devin, wait. Let Tanner help you.” She bit her bottom lip, waiting for the response. She knew her comment wasn’t going to go over well.
He shot her a glaring look. “No.”
Lacey put herself between Devin and the truck. “Look. I don’t know what you’re trying to prove, but what you’re about to prove is that your ankle can’t handle the pressure and you’re going to be in so much pain that you won’t be able to walk at all.”
She gave him the look she’d gotten from her dad a million and one times. The look that said, you better think before you argue.
He held her gaze another ten seconds before he dropped his head with a sigh. “I’m sorry. I’m just so...frustrated. I almost fell at the dance last night. I would have if you hadn’t caught me.”
Hands on hips, she said, “And?”
He shrugged. “I guess I wanted to prove to you that I can do wha
t you need me to do. And I know I can’t. I work around the farm all day and do what has to be done, but by the time I get home from my meeting I’m exhausted. My ankle hurts. And I can’t sleep.”
“Why didn’t you say something before now?”
He looked so miserable. “Because I don’t know how I’m going to do this.”
“What, Dev?” She was so afraid he was going to say be sober. She couldn’t imagine how much pain he was in, but she felt like she was seeing the real Devin for the first time and it would kill her to lose him now.
And that thought itself was something she needed to put away for later. Right now Devin needed her to focus.
“We’re about to have two babies. How am I going to help you? I can barely move by nine o’clock at night. And how will I walk a baby? If I have one hand on my cane, I can’t pat a baby or even hold it right.”
“Devin, no.” She shook her head, reaching for him, but he stepped away.
“I’m serious, Lacey. What if I stumble or, God forbid, fall while I’m holding one of them and you’re not there to catch me?”
She could think of only one way to allay his fears. Show him that he could do it. “Come in the house with me right now.”
“I don’t want to go in the house. I’m moving the truck because that’s what you said you wanted. So that’s what I’m doing.” He scowled. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”
“Come in the house. This is more important than the truck.” She started for the house without looking back and after a minute she could hear his uneven gait as he followed her across the lawn, grumbling under his breath.
When they got into the house, she went into the kitchen and poured a glass of milk and picked up a cookie from the ones she’d made this morning. She handed him the cookie. “Here. Eat this. I think maybe your blood sugar is low. You’re acting kind of hangry.”
He narrowed his eyes at her as she started digging through the basket of clothes that Jordan had brought over, but he took a bite.
“I know that thing’s in here somewhere.” She dumped out the basket. “Ah. Here it is.”
She held up a limp loop of fabric. “This is how you hold a baby when you don’t have any hands.”
“I’m...not sure I’m following you.”
“Just give me a second, Devin.” He huffed out a breath and she had to smother a giggle. He sounded exactly like his pouty horse when Reggie was miffed about something. “Hold your arms out.”
“I thought you wanted me to eat the cookie.”
She stopped and raised one eyebrow.
He shoved the whole thing in his mouth.
“That’s mature. Now hold your arms out.”
This time he did as she asked, one corner of his mouth pulling into an unwilling smile.
She held up the wrap. “I watched a video. It’s not as hard as it seems.” She talked out the steps as she acted them out. “Put the tag in the middle of your stomach. Flip the ends around your back and over the opposite shoulders.”
He stared at a spot on the wall behind her. “It would be great if I knew what you were doing.”
Muttering to herself, she shoved the ends under the first strap she’d made, crossed them around his back again and tied them in the front, all the while trying not to breathe, as his familiar woodsy scent came up to tickle her nose.
She stepped back and looked. Now that she’d done it, she was kind of skeptical that it would work at all. “I think that’s right.”
Devin opened his mouth and she put up a finger. “Wait. Just let me try it.”
Lacey grabbed a couple of shirts and wadded them up into approximately the size of a newborn baby. She made a pouch from the straps across his front and shoved the baby-shaped figure inside. When she secured the “baby” with the original layer of fabric, his mouth dropped open.
Her gaze went to his.
“Look, Ma, no hands,” she whispered.
His eyes were dark pools, his lips tight with emotion.
“You’re going to be a great dad, Devin. Having a cane isn’t going to change that.”
He sucked in a shaky breath, took the wrap off over his head and tossed it onto the couch. When he spoke, his voice was husky. “What if they’re sad that I’m not like other dads? That I can’t shag balls for them or run plays in the front yard?”
“Well, first of all, our kids are not doing anything as dangerous as football...” When he snorted a laugh, she felt vindicated. “You’re right. You might not be able to do those things... But you can teach them how to fish. You can tell stories about the rodeo and show them how to ride. How to play guitar. Things only you can teach them.”
She faced him, holding him by both arms. “Have you ever seen a kid happier than when their daddy’s truck pulls up in the driveway? Babies love their mamas but they lose their minds with joy when daddy gets home. That’s not about what you do, it’s about who you are.”
He looked away, his throat working.
Lacey reached down, picked up the glass of milk from the coffee table and handed it to him. “We have a lot to work through, Dev, but I’m not worried about the kind of dad you’re going to be. I know you’re going to be amazing.”
* * *
Devin stood still, the glass in his lax fingers, until he heard the door close behind him. His mind had been buzzing with all the ways he was going to stink as a dad, and she’d answered every one of them with flawless logic.
He was still scared. But maybe he wasn’t going to be an utter failure. Maybe he just had to be a little creative.
When he opened the door again, Lacey was sitting in the swing on the front porch with a book. He sat down beside her and toed the swing into motion.
He wanted to say thank you for what she’d said—and done—to help quiet his fears. Instead what came out was, “Your cookies are good.”
She gave him a quizzical look, but she smiled. “That makes me happy. Even the colored frosting is all organic, like our produce. I’ve been thinking we could do flags in July, apples for back to school, pumpkins in the fall, you know, seasonal stuff.”
“You’re so talented and so creative. Is there anything you’ve ever done that you’re not good at?”
Lacey looked down at her book. She took a quick breath, then paused again before meeting his eyes with a direct, serious look. “I don’t think I was a very good friend.”
“No, you were a good friend. I was just a really good liar.” He sat back and rocked them in silence for a minute, all the tension draining out of his body. “I don’t want to lie anymore, Lacey. I don’t want to pretend to be something I’m not.”
“You don’t have to.”
He tapped the armrest of the wooden swing with his thumb before saying, “Buck Williams from Rodeo Roundup magazine called a few days ago. He wants to do a feature on me and come here to do the interview. I said yes.”
Her face flushed and she pushed out of the swing, launching herself to her feet, leaving the pages of her book to flutter in the wind.
“What are you thinking?” he asked.
“I’m not even sure. I want to be happy for you but I’m worried. I’m afraid you haven’t given yourself enough time to heal emotionally. And, to be honest, I’m not thrilled about what it means for us when the entire rodeo universe is gossiping about us.”
When she turned around, he nodded. “I understand your concern. And I’m not going to talk about us, I promise. I want—need, really—to share about rehab.”
“I’d like some time to process this.”
The regaining of his feet wasn’t as graceful as hers, but he did it, grabbing his cane from the wall for balance. He walked to the other end of the porch and stood beside her, looking out over the grassy pasture where Reggie casually grazed. “Look, Lacey, I’m not ashamed about this.”
He paused. “Tha
t’s not right. I am, but shame is what keeps people from seeking help. Getting addicted to painkillers after an injury happens a lot. People hide the fact that they’re addicted because they think it’s a personal failing. In reality, it’s much more complicated than that.”
Her eyebrows drew together in thought, but still she didn’t say anything. And suddenly, he was doubting himself all over again. Doubting them. How could it possibly work out with Lacey? She’d acted like she understood him, but maybe she was just waiting for him to fail. Or maybe she’d never had any intention of trying to make things work.
But that was the fear talking again. He remembered the way she’d wrapped the baby sling around him a few minutes ago and released the breath he’d been holding. “I promise you this. Doing the interview is not about fame and it’s not about getting back in the game. It’s about letting other people like me know they’re not alone.”
Her hand was on her stomach, where their babies were growing, and tears gathered in her eyes. “Okay. If this is important to you, then I support you. When is he coming?”
“Tomorrow.”
* * *
Devin paced the floor inside the farmhouse as he waited for the reporter to arrive. He’d done hundreds of interviews, but none of them had been as important, or as tricky, as this one would be.
He hadn’t seen Lacey this morning. He wasn’t surprised. Being with him came with a whole lot of baggage that she didn’t want to unpack in public. And honestly, he didn’t blame her.
In his mind, he ran over the points he wanted to make as he answered questions about his time in rehab. Even though he’d been waiting for it, the knock surprised him.
He took a deep breath, said his millionth prayer and pulled open the door.
“Buck! Man, I’ve missed you.” Devin gave his friend a one-armed hug.
“I’ve missed you, too. I don’t have nearly as much fun now that you’re retired. That is, if you’re retired?” Buck gave him a speculative look.
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