Hold on Tight (Cowboys & Angels Book 1)

by Anjelica Grace

  I pause, drawing my fingers over the tattoo on his shoulder, continuing, “During the summer, they notice you aren’t around. Aubrey especially. She won’t watch you ride; it scares her. So she doesn’t see you at all. You’re just…gone. Maybe that’ll change now that we brought her out here for the week, but it still may not.”

  I don’t know how much time has passed since I finished talking. It’s long enough that I think I’m not going to get an answer from him at all. The only indication I have that he even heard me is the pitter-patter of his heart, speeding up and slowing down, based on what I’m saying.

  “I’ll be there more,” he finally says. “I’ll find ways to get home more. Even if I have to fly in for a day and fly back out. I don’t want the girls to question my love. I don’t want them to ever feel they aren’t the most important parts of my life.”

  I lift my head up and look at him. His eyes are darker now, an Aegean blue instead of ocean blue, and the lines on his face are pulled down with the frown on his lips. “Aubrey’s gymnastics?”

  He combs his fingers through my hair and nods his head. “I will find a way to be there. I’ll fly in right after I finish my ride, and I’ll take a red-eye back to ride the day after.”

  “You will?”

  “Yeah, I will. I don’t want the girls to grow up feeling about me the way you did your dad. I don’t want them to hate rodeo and me because I was absent. I told you I’d be better. And I will.”

  “Oh, Chase…” I scoot up his body and kiss him hard, then hold onto him for dear life. “I promise we will try to be there for you more, too. I’ll ask the girls’ friends if they can spend a couple nights over now and then. I’ll go to rodeos when I can, support you and make the same efforts.”

  I don’t know why that thought didn’t hit me before now, but I can be there for him. I love him more than I hate rodeo and what it stripped from me growing up. I’ve been punishing him for the sins of my own father, and that’s not fair.

  “We’ll make it work, Darlin’. I promise. But don’t feel pressured to come out with me. The girls need you more.”

  “I’ll travel when I can. They need me, yes. But you do, too. More than that, I need you. I need us.”

  He doesn’t say anything to that. He simply kisses me again and hugs me as though letting go means losing me. Though he won’t, I love the feel of his arms around me, cherishing me like I could disappear at any minute.

  Chase

  Nine days, over eighty riders to compete against to start, and here we are, only seventeen of us left. Today is the short go and my final ride of this rodeo. Sixteen other cowboys and I had good enough scores between the first round and second combined to be here right now. Only eight of us will take home a split of the average pot at the end of this.

  I won the first round, and raked in over five grand for my ride. But I finished lower in the standings second round, barely making my eight, and not winning any money for it. That’s all okay. I just need to ride well today, get a good score, and hope Cody and one of the other guys jockeying for the top spot in the average with us don’t beat me. We’re the top three right now. As long as we make our eight, first through third should be ours.

  I’m going to be in the top three. My girls didn’t come out here for nothing. The fight, the words exchanged, the promises made—none of that was for nothing. With them here, cheering me on, I may as well be super human today. I have something to prove to them. And to myself.

  First I have to watch my best friend take his ride.

  I pat Cody hard on the back and watch him nod, starting his ride on top of a fierce bull that has a reputation for bucking riders off. He’s not impossible, but he’s damn hard to stay on. He bucked me off last time I drew him. Cody maneuvers on the bull, moving every way he should to make his time.

  The crowd is loving it. They’re loud and cheering him on. The announcer and lead clown have gotten them going tonight, and all of us riders soak it up.

  Dust flies beneath the force of his bull’s feet with every leap and kick. Snot flies out of the bull’s nose.

  He’s pissed.

  Cody is determined.

  Fans are anxious to see if he’ll make it. The eight seconds fly by for all of us. But I know what Cody is feeling.

  Adrenaline is coursing through his blood. He feels stronger than at any other normal time. He’s hearing nothing but the sound of his heart pounding in his chest and the bull’s body and grunts beneath him. It’s like a tunnel vision he can’t snap out of until he hears the buzzer. He will claw and squeeze his way through until the very end.

  Same as me.

  Same as every rider out here.

  When the buzzer sounds, he works to set himself free. Loosening his grip, and trying to dismount as safely as possible, all so he can avoid being speared, stomped on, kicked, or charged by the fearless animal he’s mounted on.

  He lands hard, but jumps to his feet in a hurry, and he’s able to dart away from the pissed-off bull and climb up on the rails of the gate to avoid any further contact.

  Watching him has only taken twenty or thirty seconds since he left the gate. Riding, for him, has felt like an eternity.

  As he hops off the gate and looks up at the Jumbotron, seeing a damn good score flash over the screen, every decades-long-second he spent on that bull is worth it. The roar of the crowd. The pride in his chest. Knowing he wasn’t bested by the bull—or himself—is what makes us come back and ride day in and out. It makes us get back up on the bull, even if we’ve been bucked off. Even if we’ve gotten hurt.

  It’s why, as I mount my bull right now to take my final ride here in Cheyenne, I know no matter what happens here, I’ll be back at it next weekend and as often as I can be, until I can’t anymore.

  As I look up toward the grandstands, searching out my wife and daughters, finding them and holding my hand up—a distant gesture of our ritual that they return to me—I know, too, that unlike Cody and the others, I will also seek the thrill of fatherhood more often from here on out.

  I will make every ride the most important I’ve ever had, all so I can get big points and big money as often as possible, but still be home for my family. That new plan, my renewed determination to be better everywhere, starts right now. Tonight. On this bull.

  Allie

  Ava is going insane beside me, cheering and hollering for Cody, being his biggest fan like she promised him she would be. Aubrey is playing with her favorite Barbies at my feet, not paying attention to anything going on with the bulls or the cowboys riding them.

  In the nine days we have been here, so much has happened. The girls have grown obsessed with their uncle again. Ava is back on the rodeo wagon, steering it herself, and more determined than ever to compete here one day, too. Chase and I have experienced some of the highest highs and lowest lows we’ve ever had. Especially our fight six days ago. But we’ve come out on top and we have a plan. And it all starts with him winning here.

  Once I see Cody is fine, I turn my attention to Chase getting prepared in the chute and I watch him close.

  “Aubrey,” I say, reaching down to tap her shoulder, “Daddy is about to ride, do you want to see him before he starts? I think he’s going to wave at us.”

  Aubrey stands up and turns toward the chutes, following my and Ava’s lead. If he’s going to do it, it’s going to be just before he gets his rope in place. So I lift Aubrey into my arms and stand up, helping Ava stand on top of our bleacher seats.

  “Daddy’s waving!” Aubrey shouts, throwing her arm in the air excitedly.

  “Yes, he is.”

  Ava and I each raise an arm up, palms facing him, fingers spread as though he could slip his between their gaps, and wait for him to drop his hand again.

  “He did it,” Ava says in awe. “He saw us and he did it again. He’s going to ride so good. I know it.”

  “He’s going to do his best,” I agree, and take my seat again.

  There is very little comfort in knowi
ng Chase is one of the best bull riders in the world, when I also know, sometimes it doesn’t matter how good the rider is. It does nothing to abate the absolute fear that this ride could go wrong. Any ride could.

  I watch Chase adjust his hat on his head then reach his arm out to steady himself, holding on lightly to the gate before he nods once, indicating he’s ready to start.

  The gate pulls open and the dark, chocolate brown bull with big, shaved down horns rips out of the chute. He’s rank. He’s a good bull. Which means he’s a bad-ass that could get Chase a good score, if he stays on, and if he keeps his form.

  With every turn, my stomach drops.

  With every leap and kick, my heart skips a beat.

  Chase’s free hand stays high above him, and he’s staying over the top of his grip well. But one weird turn or hard buck and he could topple over the bull’s head, or get caught up in the rope and not break free.

  Ava is counting the seconds ticking by in the quietest whisper, changing to, “Hold on, Daddy. Hold on,” around the six second mark.

  By seven she’s up to her feet again, and in the second that follows she’s shouting her head off, so excited that he did it.

  Three rides.

  Three scores.

  He will make a good chunk of money and build on his lead in the world rankings.

  Aubrey jumps up with Ava, sensing what happened and cheering him on too, and I stay seated to watch them and let my heart slow down.

  Eight seconds.

  An entire life on the line.

  It doesn’t matter how many times I see him ride and dismount safely, the fear I’ve always had that he will get hurt is the exact same as the first time I watched him.

  He loves the danger.

  He loves the challenge.

  He loves the rush.

  For me, I love the man who chases his dreams with near reckless abandon. Who will go from being one of the shit-talking, bull riding, bad-ass cowboys with the guys right now, to the silly, soft, playful daddy the girls adore when we get back to the hotel later.

  I hope he keeps his word. I hope he puts the girls first. I hope he wins it all this year. If he’s willing to work harder to be what we need, I will damn sure work harder on making it to more of his rodeos and supporting him, fear and all, to see him accomplish everything.

  This week was awful and amazing, and it was the wake-up call we both needed to realize we’ve each made mistakes and we each need to try harder.

  Chase

  Cheyenne was a fantastic rodeo for me this year, for many reasons. I barely beat Cody, one point was all that separated us, but my last ride put me over the edge. To receive the check, the one for winning round one, and the average, to see the proud smiles on my girls’ faces when they saw my new buckle, I feel like the richest cowboy in the world.

  My buckle hasn’t left Ava’s hands since we got home four days ago. She holds onto it as often as she can, tracing the engraving over the buckle, telling me and Allie all about how she’s going to win one day. She’s so in awe. Her new future plans include standing in the Champions Circle with me.

  I have no doubt she will be there one day, but I don’t know if we will ever stand in it together, not in nine more years. My body will probably have long since given out, and I’ll be retired. But I’ll be there, watching her, and so will Allie.

  Speaking of Allie, I can’t fight the smile that hits me when I feel her arms wrap around me from behind. She scratches her nails lightly over my stomach and presses her lips to my back, and I feel lighter than I ever thought I could.

  “Hey, Cowboy,” she says quietly.

  “Hey yourself,” I say back, dropping my jeans in my bag and rubbing my hands over her arms. “Whatcha doin?”

  “I just finished making the girls dinner. I had to put your buckle up on the mantle, she wouldn’t let it go.”

  I laugh and shake my head. “She loves that thing even more than I do.”

  “She’s so proud of you. She got to be there with you when you did it, and it makes it even more special.”

  “It’s more special to me for the same reason.”

  “I’ve been thinking,” she says, stilling her hands on my lower stomach and slipping her arms around as tight as she can until we’re pressed together, my back to her front, with no room between us.

  “About?”

  “What we discussed in Cheyenne.”

  “Which part of what we discussed?”

  “All of it, truthfully.” I feel her cheek press into my back, her hair tickles it a little as it brushes over my bare skin. “I feel like I’ve neglected Ava because I’ve been so hard on rodeo and going to watch you.”

  “You’ve done nothing of the sort…”

  “No, I have. Have you seen her with that buckle? She won’t let it go. She clings to it because she got to be there and be a part of you winning it. She got to hold her hand up before your rides, guarantee you were safe. She felt special. She was so excited and happy.”

  As much as I’d love to keep her behind me, I want to see her while we talk, so I gently peel her arms loose and turn around to face her, guiding her hands behind my back and tight around me again. “She’s always been special,” I say. “And you all being there gave me extra motivation to be the best. But, Allie, you’ve done nothing wrong by giving the girls a stable life here. School, friends, activities, they need those things.”

  “They do. But they need to see that love, support, and loyalty are important too.” She rests her chin on my chest and looks up at me. “I already told you, I’m going to go to more rodeos with you when I can. But when the girls don’t have weekend activities, I think I’ll give them the choice to come too.”

  “I would love that,” I tell her, leaning down to kiss her lips. “You aren’t obligated to come. I don’t want resentment to build because you feel like you have to be there. Okay?”

  Allie shakes her head and closes her eyes, breathing deep before she responds, “There won’t be resentment. I’ll be going because I want to. And the girls will, too. If Aubrey wants to stay home sometimes, we will work something out.”

  “Only if you’re sure,” I say to reiterate this is entirely her call. “I’ll never say no to having you three with me when I ride. Ever.”

  I kiss her lips again, letting it linger and grow, until Aubrey walks into the room. “Ewww,” she says dramatically. “Don’t kiss Mommy, that’s icky.”

  I laugh and let Allie go, then squat down and crook my finger at Aubrey. “Come here, Monkey.”

  Aubrey walks over to me and I grin wide. “I have to kiss your Mommy, ya know why?”

  She shakes her head no and asks, “Why?”

  “Well, because I can’t tickle her like I do you,” I say, as if it were the most logical thing on the planet, right as I draw my hands up and start tickling my little girl relentlessly.

  “Daddy!” she squeals and shrieks, trying to wiggle out of my grip and get away from me. Her laughs fill our bedroom and she doubles over, trying to protect herself from the tickle attack she can’t escape.

  “Say the magic words and I’ll stop,” I say with a chuckle, continuing to tickle her until I hear them.

  “I love you, Daddy,” she manages to get out between laughs.

  I stop tickling her and pull her to me, wrapping her in a hug. “I love you too, Aubrey.”

  “Do you love me bigger than the stars?”

  “I love you bigger than the whole wide universe.”

  She pulls back with wide eyes and an even wider grin. “That’s a lot.”

  “It is. And I’ll always love you that much.”

  “Always, always?”

  “Always, always,” I confirm and kiss her head. “Did you finish your dinner?”

  “Mhmm, ‘cept for the yucky green things.”

  Allie stifles a laugh behind her, and I glance up to see if she wants Aubrey to go back out and finish what I assume are her vegetables.

  “Aubrey, did you eat any o
f your green beans?” Allie asks.

  “They’re not beans, Mommy. They’re long and gross.”

  “You need to eat them so you can grow big and strong and be the best gymnast in the world,” I tell her. “Go back in there and eat half of what your mommy gave you, or no s’mores by the fire for you.”

  Aubrey scrunches her nose in disgust, and I know she’s about to argue. It’s there, on the tip of her tongue, before I cut her off with a pointed look. “Go now, Aubrey Jane. I won’t tell you again.”

  “Okay. But…Daddy?”

  “Yes?”

  “Will you come to my gymnastics this weekend?” she asks innocently.

  “I’ll be there,” I confirm.

  “And Daddy?” she asks again.

  “What Aubrey?” I say, a little irritated, knowing what she’s trying to do.

  “Can I have two s’mores if I eat half my icky green things?”

  “We’ll see. Now go finish dinner.”

  “One more. Daddy?”

  Allie is standing, amused and smirking, behind Aubrey, watching this whole exchange.

  “No more questions. Go eat your dinner. We’ll be in there after I finish packing my bag to make sure you ate what you were supposed to.”

  Aubrey pouts her bottom lip out and turns around, walking past Allie as slowly as she can, literally dragging her feet to put off finishing her vegetable as long as she can.

  “How often does she refuse to finish her dinner?” I look up at Allie and ask.

  “Depends on the night,” she says, shrugging her shoulder. “Some, she eats everything like I’ve starved her for an eternity. Other nights, she refuses to eat anything on her plate. And the rest of the nights are like tonight, where she’ll finish most and then refuse the stuff she really needs to eat.”

  “And the arguments like they’ve been having today?”