Tomas: Cowboy Homecoming

by Warren, Linda

  The clowns and cowboys on horseback tried to get Sam away from Beau to no avail. Sam swung snot six ways from Sunday and was ready to take them on.

  “Shit.” Tuf jumped over the rail, followed by Duke. Their appearance startled Sam, and the clowns were able to get in and distract him. The bull charged the clowns, and the handlers had Sam headed toward the open chute in a split second.

  Tuff fell down by Beau in the dirt. “Beau!”

  “It hurts,” Beau moaned.

  A flashback from Afghanistan hit Tuf like a sledgehammer. No! He would not keep fighting that war. That was in the past. This was the present. And Beau was not Frank.

  “Where?” Duke asked as Tuf checked Beau’s dust-covered body.

  “My…my left arm. I can’t move it.”

  Damn. It was probably broken. Tuf realized there was complete quiet in the large stadium. The announcer wasn’t even talking as they waited for news on Beau’s condition.

  “What do you think?” Duke asked.

  “Probably best to get a stretcher,” Tuf replied.

  “No.” Beau vetoed that. “Sierra has to see me get up. Just help me.”

  “Don’t be stupid.” Duke wasn’t having any of it. “That bull gave you a tromping.”

  Beau turned to Tuf. “Help me up.”

  “C’mon, Duke, it’s what he wants. Support his arm while I help him.”

  Beau bent his knees, and Tuf put his hands beneath Beau’s shoulders and lifted while Duke raised Beau’s arm and held it against his chest.

  “Shit. It hurts. What’s my score?” Beau said all in one breath.

  “Look up,” Tuf told him.

  Beau glanced at the JumboTron. “Hot damn. Eighty-nine.”

  A cowboy retrieved Beau’s hat, and Tuf stuffed it on Beau’s head as they made their way out of the arena through the cowboys to a ramp to the locker room. The crowd erupted with loud applause. Colt and Ace met them there, as did the rodeo doctor.

  While Beau was being x-rayed, Tuf hurried to get his truck because he feared Beau’s forearm was broken. It had an S shape. The bull had obviously stepped on it. And he knew Beau was going to fight getting an ambulance every step of the way.

  Tuf’s fears were confirmed, and they got him to the hospital as quickly as possible. Sierra, Uncle Josh and Jordan were meeting them there. Beau was quiet on the ride to the hospital. Everyone was.

  They took Beau in right away and prepped him to get the bone set. Sierra arrived in time to see him before they whisked him away. The rest of the family trickled in and they waited. Sierra came out with tears in her eyes.

  “I’m so sad for him. He knew the cowboys here were good and he’s placed every night, but he wanted to win at least one round.”

  Everyone seemed to reach for his or her phone at the same time. They’d been so worried about Beau they hadn’t checked to see how the bull riding had come out.

  Colt was fastest on the draw. He gave a thumbs-up sign as he talked. “He won,” Colt shouted. “Only two cowboys made their rides, so Beau’s gonna get a big payout on this one.”

  “Oh, that’s good news,” Sierra cried. “I can’t wait to tell him.”

  The doctor decided to keep Beau until morning and Sierra stayed with him. Tuf promised to pick them up in the morning.

  At ten the next morning, Tuf’s cell woke him. In less than five minutes, he was dressed and headed for the door.

  Ace met him in the hall. “Give me your keys. I can collect Sierra and Beau. You need your rest. You have to ride tonight.”

  “I gave my word and I’m going.”

  “You got a thing about giving your word, and it’s nice to be so honorable, but I didn’t see any of that when you ditched Cheyenne.”

  Tuf frowned at his brother, who was usually so calm and rational. Was he goading him? “I didn’t ditch her. I broke up with her to protect her.”

  “Mmm.” Ace nodded. “Or are you protecting yourself?”

  “What?”

  “Cheyenne’s been through her own kind of hell with an abusive husband. She knows what being hit for real feels like. Yet, when you had the nightmare, she was willing to accept you warts and all, but you’re the one who backed out of the relationship. Why? Because you have one foot in that war at all times. It controls you. During the day you’re good at protecting yourself from all those memories. At night there is no protection and the memories torture you. You have to stop protecting whatever bad stuff’s in your head. Let it out, please, and start to live again.”

  Tuf stared at Ace as if he’d grown two heads. Was he that transparent?

  * * *

  TUF HAD BEAU AND SIERRA back at the hotel in no time. Beau looked a little pale, but he seemed okay. He lay in bed and Sierra propped pillows behind his back.

  Their affection for one another got to Tuf. Cheyenne would be upset if he was hurt, too. Because she loves me. He closed his eyes briefly to let that sink in. Was Ace right? Was he protecting himself? Protecting the awful memories? And how did he stop? He didn’t know how to stop.

  He couldn’t think about this now. He pulled up a chair to sit by the bed. “How are you?” he asked.

  “Sore and mad,” Beau replied.

  “I’m sorry your NFR experience ended like this.”

  “Yeah. This broken arm sucks, and I wish I could have walked out of the arena under my own steam after the win, but, man, I’m going home with over sixty thousand dollars. I’m happy about that.” Beau scooted up in bed. “The damn bull stunk and he peed on me.”

  “He marked his territory,” Tuf quipped.

  They laughed and Tuf got to his feet. “I’ll catch y’all later. Right now I’m going to crash for a few hours.”

  When Tuf reached his room, he stripped out of his clothes and fell across his bed. But visions of Cheyenne tortured him. He’d crushed something valuable—her love. And he had to make it right. This wasn’t the time or the place, though. Now he had to concentrate on the rodeo and his commitment to his family.

  That night Tuf won the round on Magic Realm, and Trey won the eighth round. That left two nights, and Tuf would have to win both to win the title. The pressure was on, and it was the buzz around the cowboys. Could Tuf come from behind to win? Or could Trey? Could Cory maintain his lead? Who was going to win?

  On the ninth night, Cory made his ride with an 88.5. Tuf had to beat that to stay in contention. He drew Scarlet Lady, a horse known to buck hard and wild. As he slid onto the reddish-colored mare, the horse immediately tried to jump out of the chute, banging against the pipe. Tuf got off and a man from Pioneer Rodeo who owned the horse tried to calm her.

  Tuf eased onto Scarlet one more time.

  The announcer’s voice came on. “Let’s turn our attention to chute number three. Tuf Hart is ready to ride.”

  Tuf took a deep breath and shut out everything but himself and the spirited horse beneath him. He nodded and the gate swung open. Scarlet leaped out of the gate. Bucking, leaping and kicking, Scarlet showed no mercy. Tuf settled into a hard, rocking rhythm. Five, six. Tuf held on. A wild kick from Scarlet’s back legs almost unseated him, but Tuf managed to stay on. Seven. Eight.

  At the buzzer, Tuf jumped off, lost his balance and staggered backward. And backward until his head hit something and the arena went black.

  Home to Thunder Ranch in a coffin. He saw the coffin clearly draped in an American flag. Saw his mother crying. Saw Cheyenne…Cheyenne! No! He forced his eyes open and saw the people in the stadium, waiting.

  “Tuf!” he heard his munchkins scream.

  Colt and Ace ran toward him, and Tuf lumbered to his feet. The arena swayed as thunderous applause erupted. He blinked, trying to focus, and waved to the girls to let them know he was fine.

  “Are you okay?” Ace asked as he reached him.

  “Yeah. Just lost my balance.”

  “Look at the score,” Colt shouted, handing him his hat.

  Tuf looked up to see 89 stuck on the JumboTron as if it was waiting
for him to notice it. He lifted a fist in the air in acknowledgment and walked out of the arena with his brothers flanking him.

  “The cowboy marine is walking away,” the announcer said. “He’s tough. Congratulations! Tuf Hart wins the round on Scarlet Lady. This sets the stage for a showdown between Tuf and Cory Kinney. It’ll be a nail-biter, so don’t miss bareback riding tomorrow night when we crown a champion. Now get ready for more excitement…”

  The voice faded away as they walked up the ramp to the locker room. Tuf sank onto a bench and took off his spurs. Ace felt Tuf’s head, his neck and his shoulders.

  Tuf pulled away. “Will you stop? I’m not a horse you can practice your vet skills on.”

  “There’s a knot on the back of your head where you hit the advertisement sign. You might have a concussion.”

  “I can handle it.”

  “Yeah, you’re a tough-ass,” Ace snapped. “You can handle everything by yourself.”

  Cowboys walked in and out. Several shouted, “Way to go, Tuf. Good ride.” He lifted a hand in response.

  Colt knelt in front of him. “Why are you so down? You’ve worked all year for this and broke into the top fifteen cowboys in the country. You’re standing toe-to-toe with the best riders in the world and you have a chance to win it all. Every cowboy here wants to be in your boots. Why aren’t you two-stepping across this room in joy?”

  “Because I made a mistake with Cheyenne and I keep making them.”

  “Tuf, we all make mistakes. Why do you think I didn’t see my son until a year ago? I wanted to, but I thought he was better off without me. Big mistake. Give Cheyenne a chance. It won’t be a mistake.”

  Tuf stood, as did Colt. He removed his chaps and protective vest and placed them in his locker. “I need some time alone.”

  “Tuf....”

  He walked away. He was good at that.

  * * *

  CHEYENNE SANK ONTO THE BED as she and Angie returned from another day at the convention center.

  “Why does love hurt so much?”

  Angie sat by her. “I don’t know. Sometimes it just does. Life’s about changes, accepting, forgiving and moving on. I feel your situation with Tuf can be resolved with a simple ‘I’m sorry’ from Tuf.”

  Cheyenne shook her head. “No, it can’t. Tuf doesn’t trust me enough to handle his nightmares. That’s not going to change. He said he’s been having them for over two years and they could get more violent. There’s no way around that.”

  “Unless Tuf lets you into his thoughts.”

  Cheyenne looked at her friend. “That’s not going to happen and…”

  The buzz of her cell interrupted Cheyenne. She rummaged in her purse for it. “It’s a text from Leah.”

  “What does it say?” Angie asked.

  Cheyenne couldn’t speak. She kept staring at the words.

  “Cheyenne…?”

  She read the text word for word because she couldn’t form any of her own. “‘Tuf got hurt. He hit his head on a sign, but he’s okay. Just thought you’d want to know.’”

  Tuf is hurt.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Cheyenne’s first instinct was to run to the arena, but Tuf had made it very clear he didn’t need her comfort or anything else. She hated the ache inside that she couldn’t control.

  “Cheyenne?”

  She turned to her friend. “What?”

  “Are you going to the arena?”

  “No. He hasn’t asked for me.”

  Angie rolled her eyes. “You need an invitation?”

  “Oh, no. The girls are there, and they probably saw what happened.” She called her dad and he answered promptly. “How are the girls?”

  “Fine. Why?”

  “Leah said Tuf got hurt.”

  “Yeah, but they just thought it was part of the rodeo. They were screaming ‘Tuf, get up’ so loud they put them on the large JumboTron. They saw themselves and waved and screamed louder. Tuf waved to them and they were fine. They’re waiting for barrel racing. That’s their favorite next to Tuf riding. Since Beau was injured, they don’t want to watch those mean old bulls, so we’ll be back after barrel racing.”

  “Okay. Thanks, Dad.”

  She dropped her phone into her purse. Tuf was fine. That was all that mattered.

  * * *

  TUF MADE HIS WAY OUT of the arena and started walking. Then he broke into a run like he always did when the walls closed in and he tried to escape the pain inside himself. Through the pounding of his heart, he realized he had to stop running. With extreme effort, he made himself stop, and then he just kept walking. He had no destination in mind, but he wound up back at the hotel. He took the elevator up to his room.

  Cheyenne’s room was next to his, and he paused outside her door. He had to see her. He didn’t care about anything else. For the first time in his life, he needed someone. He couldn’t handle life without Cheyenne. After admitting that, he felt better. They could talk and work this out—if only she’d forgive him.

  He knocked and waited, but there was no response. She had to be out. That was no problem. He’d wait in his room until he heard her come in. All the days they’d been in Vegas, not once had they run into each other. When he woke up, she was already at the convention center. When he came in from the rodeo, she and the girls were asleep.

  Sitting in his room, he listened for a noise next door. He had acute hearing. Something he’d mastered in Afghanistan. The hallway was relatively quiet, though. He could call Cheyenne, but he needed to see her.

  His cell beeped with a text message. It was from Michael Dobbins. Good luck, buddy. Rooting for you all the way. M

  Tuf sat staring at his phone and realized the war was always going to be a part of him. He’d made lifelong friends, and he and Michael had a special connection—a bond that could never be broken. All along he’d been thinking if he could get rid of the bad memories, he could live life again. But it wasn’t like that at all. He had to find a way to live with the memories, and he could only do that with Cheyenne. It was so clear now. He couldn’t fight the memories alone.

  A tap at the door had him on his feet. Maybe it was Cheyenne. His mother stood outside. “Hi, son. How do you feel?”

  “I’m fine.” He opened the door and she came inside. Her hands went immediately to his head. “Oh, you do have a knot. Does it hurt?”

  “Nah,” he lied.

  “We’ve decided to take in a Reba McEntire show and then have dinner. Would you like to come?”

  “Who’s ‘we’?”

  “Earl, Buddy and me. Everyone else is spending this last evening with their spouses, and we thought we’d have some fun, too. Tomorrow night we’ll be busy packing, getting ready to catch a flight home.”

  “No, but have a good time.”

  “I plan to. Now I’m going to change and put on some sparkly earrings I bought from Cheyenne.” She paused. “You do know her room is next door.”

  “Yes, Mom.”

  She hugged him. “I’m so proud of you. Win or lose tomorrow, you’re our hero.”

  The word didn’t bother him like it usually did. “Thanks, Mom. Have a fun evening.”

  After she left, he took off his boots, planning to stay in and order dinner. He didn’t want to leave the room in case he missed Cheyenne.

  His right arm ached so he took two Advil and lay across the bed. Listening. Waiting.

  Thirty minutes later, he felt drowsy and he fought it, but soon sleep claimed him.

  * * *

  THE NEXT MORNING, IT WAS almost noon when he woke up. Damn it! He jumped up, slipped into jeans and yanked a T-shirt over his head. He hurried to the hallway and knocked on Cheyenne’s door, but he knew she was already gone. Slowly, he went back to his room. Sitting on the bed, he slipped on his boots. He had to find Cheyenne.

  Thirty minutes later, he found her. A group of women gathered around her booth trying on earrings, bracelets and necklaces. She was busy and he couldn’t talk to her in front of
a crowd. But he watched her for a moment to get himself through the day. Her hair was up like he’d seen so many times. He’d take it down just to run his fingers through the silky strands and to kiss the warmth of her neck. The taste of her skin was strong on his lips. He turned and walked away. A habit he was beginning to hate.

  Back at the hotel, he took a hot shower to ease his aching muscles. The knot on his head had gone down, so that was good. Before long, he headed over to the arena. He was anxious to get his draw for the night. The horse he’d have to ride would play a big part in his chance for a title.

  He stood with the other fourteen cowboys to get their draw. Tuf was stunned, hardly believing that his year had come down to this.

  “Who’d you draw?” Cory asked.

  “Midnight.”

  “Well, now, my odds just got a little better.”

  “Maybe.”

  “I hope we can still be friends after this,” Cory said.

  “I don’t see why not. We’ll buddy up anytime we can.” Tuf walked off to where his brothers stood.

  “Who’d you get?” Colt asked.

  “Midnight.”

  “You’re shitting me.”

  “Nope. I got the black stallion.”

  “Damn,” Ace said. “What a finale. Just stay focused. You can ride him.”

  “Yeah. You’ve been a little distracted, but now you really have to rein in your emotions,” Colt added.

  “I gotta go. It’s time to ride in.” Reining in his emotions might be the hardest thing he’d ever have to do, and that included riding Midnight.

  In the locker room, Tuf strapped on his chaps and grabbed his Wrangler NFR jacket out of his bag. As he slipped it on, Beau walked in, his arm in a sling.

  “You riding in?” Tuf asked.

  “You bet. This is the last night and I’m not gonna miss it.” He held up his arm in a cast. “I’m not putting on my jacket. Do you think anyone will mind?”

  “Nah. Let’s saddle up.” They headed toward the pens where two horses were waiting. Because of the brace, Beau had to mount from the right side. The horse didn’t seem to mind. They got in line behind other cowboys waiting to ride into the arena. A cowgirl carrying the U.S. flag rode in on a beautiful golden palomino. The lights dimmed and a spotlight shone on the girl as a starlet from Vegas sang the national anthem. He bowed his head and placed his hand over his heart. When the last note died away, the bright lights came on, and the cowboys and cowgirls charged into the arena single file for the last night of the rodeo.