The Bull Rider's Homecoming

by Allie Pleiter

  A man who really cared for her would have thought about what she wanted. It stung that his first thought upon finding her gone wasn’t concern for her welfare or worry, it was panic that he didn’t have what he needed. I’m ashamed of that, Lord. I don’t want to be that man. I want to be whoever it is that Ruby needs me to be. Only I don’t know what that is or how to make it happen. Maybe that was the faith and transformation Ruby was always talking about. He’d started to feel some of it during his weeks at church, when Pastor Theo talked about men who let themselves be changed by their faith so that they could do the extraordinary tasks God set in front of them.

  I’ve got a whopper of a task in front of me today. I’m gonna be changed by it, either way. I don’t know if I’ve got it in me to trust You without Ruby here to back me up. Some big, clear help right about now would go a long way.

  Luke made himself sit still. Made himself wait and listen for whatever was going to show itself. But there was nothing. No great revelation, no call or text from Ruby, no holy peace or strength or whatever it was men of God were supposed to feel. Just plain old Luke up against a bull.

  Only now it was plain, tired, worried, stressed Luke up against the ride of a lifetime. Talk about odds to make a man shake in his boots. He rubbed his leg, the flare of pain that always came with stress reminding him how his body couldn’t be entirely trusted just yet.

  Luke jumped when his cell phone buzzed in his hands, but it was only the alarm function reminding him he had an interview with Rachel in ten minutes. Once all this started, it would be like a flash flood picking up speed and force until it dropped him, ready or not, on top of JetPak.

  * * *

  Grandpa looked bad. Like a shadow of himself, pale and thin against the impersonal white sheets of the hospital bed. He looked too much like a dying man, as if the life were draining out of him right in front of her eyes. Ruby could see why Mama had spent the last hours in near constant tears—she felt her own throat continually thick with emotion since walking in the hospital doors.

  “Are you Laura’s daughter?” Ruby turned at the question to see the kind face of a doctor behind her.

  “Yes.” Mama had gone for coffee, having been up most of the night, so Ruby took the opportunity to ask the question she most dreaded of the internist. “How is he, really?”

  “It’s touch and go, I admit, but he looks like a fighter.”

  He was, Ruby thought. I’m not so sure anymore. She wiped away a tear. “I’ll be so sorry to lose him.”

  The doctor, a middle-aged woman with the kindest eyes, put a hand on her shoulder. “He might pull through. We’re doing everything we can to speed his healing. Try to keep up hope. And keep encouraging him. Patients can hear even when they seem unresponsive, and it will help him fight.”

  The doctor pulled the stethoscope from her neck and began doing various checkups on Grandpa. Ruby sank into the creaky vinyl chair, the world spinning chaotically around her. She checked her watch. 11:30 a.m. Luke’s family should be in San Antonio by now.

  Please PLEASE call me. She’d seen the text, so she knew he was aware she wasn’t in San Antonio. Was he angry? Concerned? Anxious? She owed him a response. In truth, she wanted to hear his voice, as much as she hoped he wanted to hear hers. The timing of all this seemed so cruel.

  Mama came back in the room just as the doctor was finishing. “Is everything all right?” she nearly gasped.

  “Just a routine check, Mrs. Sheldon,” the doctor said in calm tones. “There’s been no change. Did you get something to eat?”

  Mama set her paper cup of coffee down. “I’m not hungry.”

  The doctor shot Ruby a look. “The best thing you can do for Grandpa right now,” Ruby said as she hauled herself off the chair, “is take care of yourself as well. I need to make a phone call. I’ll go grab us some lunch and bring it back.”

  “Good idea,” said the doctor. “Wise daughter you raised there.”

  “Phone call?” Mama said, one eyebrow cautiously raised.

  “Luke. I didn’t talk to him before I left.” Ruby felt it best not to get any more into that with Mama right now.

  Ducking out of the hospital room, Ruby found a quiet, sunny corner. Give me the words, she prayed, before dialing Luke’s phone number.

  He picked up immediately. “Ruby,” Luke’s voice was filled with relief. She could hear him turn his voice away. “Hey, look guys, I gotta take this. Give me ten minutes, okay?” There was a lot of noise behind him on the line as he came back to her. “Where are you? What’s going on?”

  The sound of his voice brought the tears right back to the surface. She should have told him right away. Why did she make this so complicated when people hurting should be the simplest thing in the world? “It’s Grandpa. Luke, I don’t think he’s gonna make it.”

  “Ruby. Oh, mercy, Ruby, why didn’t you come get me? I went crazy when I found out you’d left.”

  “I told myself I shouldn’t. It’s your big day and all.”

  “I was crazy, Ruby, because I thought I’d driven you away. Look, I need you, I want you here—I won’t lie that I miss you like crazy right now—but I would have told you to go. Helped you to go.”

  Had he changed that much? Had she let her history with him, the way he’d left her back then, cloud what they could have been to each other today? Ruby leaned back against the wall, unable to find words for the tumble of thoughts in her head.

  Luke clearly caught on to the hesitation, for his next words were soft and choked with emotion. “Look, I know you have reasons to doubt me. I left you high and dry all those years ago for all the wrong reasons. So you had every right to think I’d be selfish about today. But I’m not that man anymore. I don’t know how to prove it to you, but I’ll find a way. I need you today, and you need me. And I hate every mile between us right now.”

  That’s exactly how she felt. She loathed the distance between them because right now she craved his arms around her and she knew he craved the same. She’d spent so much time bearing witness to other people’s pain, and now she needed someone beside her in her own. She knew now, deep down, that the person she wanted was Luke. “I don’t know how we do this. Today, the rest of it, any of it.”

  He exhaled. “Me neither. If God has a plan in all this, He hasn’t shared it with me yet.”

  She could almost manage a damp laugh. “You asked?”

  “I begged.”

  Those two words were a comfort to her heart. “I want to be there for you.”

  “I want to be there for you.”

  There was their relationship—in all its power and all its problems—right there in that exchange. They wanted to be there for each other, but the whole world was in the way.

  “Ruby?”

  “Yes?”

  “I love you. I hate that I’m saying it on the phone instead of staring into your eyes, but I figure now’s a good time to lay that on the table.”

  She lost her battle to the tears. “Oh, Luke.”

  “Is that a good ‘Oh, Luke,’ or a bad ‘Oh, Luke’? And before you answer, keep in mind I’m about to risk my future on a huge angry animal in front of thousands of people.”

  She laughed. Oh, how she needed the fearlessness he could bring to her life. “You already know which, you crazy cowboy.”

  “I could use a little affirmation today.”

  “Yes, I love you. I don’t think I ever really stopped.”

  She could almost hear his smile over the phone. “Yeah, I know.” His tone glowed. “Close your eyes and think about me holding you for a moment, will you?”

  She did. For an instant, the miles between them evaporated.

  “Feel that?” he said. “Can you feel it?”

  Ruby wiped the stream of tears sliding down her cheeks. “Yeah, I can.”

&
nbsp; “That’s how we do this.”

  She grabbed a tissue from her pocket. “How are you? I mean, are you ready for the ride?”

  “I’ll get there.” She recognized all he didn’t say in that response.

  A thought popped into her head. “Look around you. Is there anything red?”

  “Huh?”

  “Humor me,” Ruby said, feeling a tiny sliver of strength return. “Is there anything red?”

  “Um...” There was a pause on the line. “One of the guys has a bandana.”

  “Get it.”

  “What?”

  “Get the bandana.”

  After a moment, she heard Luke say, “Hey, Craig, would it be okay if I borrowed that for today? Crazy reason.”

  “Well, okay,” came a voice from across the room.

  Luke returned. “I’ve got it. What am I supposed to do with it?”

  “Hold it. It’s from me. It’s me there with you. Put it someplace where I can see it when you ride. I’ll find a way to watch from here.”

  “You’re crazy, you know that? That’s the wrong color bandana for a Buckton—Blue Thorn Ranch always has a boatload of blue bandanas.”

  “But it’s the right one from me.”

  His laugh was soft and intimate. “I think I just fell for you a little bit more.”

  “Take care, Luke. Ride well, and I’ll be with you no matter what.”

  “I always said, ‘Just give me till tomorrow.’ We’ll find a way to work the rest out.”

  For the first time, she believed it was possible. She had no idea how, but maybe that was why God hadn’t shared yet. “I love you,” she said, crying again. “No matter what happens.”

  “I love you. No matter what happens.”

  He felt close as her heartbeat—until the click of the disconnect.

  Then, Luke felt a million miles away.

  Chapter Twenty

  It all came down to this.

  Luke’s heart was pounding against his ribs as he walked up to the chutes. The tight weight of his safety vest, covered in sponsor insignias, felt familiar and yet heavier than usual. He hadn’t worn the thing since the day of his accident, and it felt significant to feel it on his chest again. Armor for the battle ahead.

  The announcer was making a big sentimental speech about the ride to the audience. Video of his last ride was playing on the screen. The frame froze at the dramatic point of his being thrown from JetPak, mercifully fading to black before he hit the ground in the unnatural twist of limbs that always made his stomach lurch every time he watched it. It wasn’t the kind of thing everyone should see. Kids were in the audience. While it was always good PR to hint at the danger of the sport, it was never smart marketing to actually show damage done. “Keep it at the thrill level,” Nolan would say while coaching Luke to be tightlipped about the specifics of his injuries over the years.

  “A bright, rising star, catapulted into jeopardy earlier this year,” the announcer said in dramatic tones. “A man determined to overcome injury and ride again. A true cowboy, a true hero, ready to prove himself today.”

  Luke used to eat this stuff up. He loved the hyperbole of the rodeo, the spectacle of it all. You couldn’t get much larger than life than the man vs. beast battle of bull riding. Today, he found the whole thing a bit overdone. He loved an audience, loved the cheer that roared through the stadium when he walked out into the arena and lifted his hat. He felt their hoots and applause as a nearly physical sensation, a buzz in his chest that seemed to ignite the skills he’d need to last those eight seconds. But the person he wanted most in that audience was miles away. And right by your side, he reminded himself, letting his fingers graze over the red bandana.

  The live arena camera cut to a shot of JetPak, snorting in the chute behind him. No greenhorn to the theatrics of it all, JetPak tossed his head and bellowed. That animal knew his cue.

  Ten minutes ago, Luke had looked the bull square in the eyes. He’d waited for some kind of hate to boil up—it was a useful emotion in the arena—but his feelings only distilled to a sharp competitive focus. Luke had a job to do. JetPak had a job to do. It was only a matter of who came out the victor when those two jobs clashed.

  It will be me. This is my moment. This is how I take back what I lost.

  Luke walked toward the chutes, giving a moment’s thanks for how he no longer limped. The pain he still felt in that leg was his ally, a sign that the sensation had returned. It hurt—stress always made it hurt worse—but Luke could ride with pain. This, he knew how to do. This was his gift.

  Dramatic battle music swelled on the PA system, full of pounding drums and tension-building crescendos. The lights in the stands went down, placing the arena in a glow of brightly lit attention. Just before the lights went fully down, Luke cast his glance over to the seats where Gran, Ellie and Nash, Gunner and Brooke, Witt and Jana, and even Audie and Trey sat. He let his gaze linger on the one empty seat next to Ellie, fished the red bandana out of his pocket, and made a show of tucking it next to his heart inside his vest.

  See that, Ruby? See me? See you with me? You found a way to be here. That’s why we’re so good together. That’s why we’ll make it.

  There were no points to be awarded, either for him or the animal. This match had just one measure: eight seconds on, or not enough. No judges analyzing style or control of the animal, just a clock.

  Luke climbed up to his place above JetPak, having gone through the near-instinctual process of rosining his bull rope and glove, and picturing his seat on the bull with every jump, twist and spin.

  “You know this bull. You know what he does. You’ve got this,” the flank man said as Luke placed each of his feet on the chute rails on either side above JetPak’s back. The animal gave a snort and reared up as if he’d heard the flank man’s comments and was full bent on challenging them. The guy pulling Luke’s bull rope grabbed him by the vest to steady him as the rails shook.

  “I think he disagrees,” Luke remarked as he began the process of settling his hand into the braided handhold. He adjusted and readjusted, centering his little finger down the spine of the bull. Luke wrapped the rope around his hand, readying himself for the chaos that would be unleashed once the gate was pulled open. He was tired from a poor night’s sleep, hurting from his leg’s response to the stress, but shot through with adrenaline and surprisingly steady. He could feel the red bandana tucked up against his chest. Sure, every member of the Buckton family carried a turquoise bandana as a sign of their allegiance to the Blue Thorn Ranch, but this was different. This was one man’s battle bolstered by one woman’s heart.

  The gate man, waiting to yank on the rope that would pull the gate open, looked up at Luke for the cue. Luke took a deep breath, lowered his legs and moved up on his rope on the beast, and nodded toward the man. “Outside.”

  In less than a second, the world began careening in every direction. Luke’s well-honed reflexes woke up and took over, his brain making predictions and calculations to shift his body at lightning speed. Time both sped up and slowed down simultaneously, one hand raised high while the core of his body shifted and twisted to match the wild movements of the bull.

  It all came down to this.

  * * *

  Ruby sat in the hospital hallway, cradling her cell phone in her hands as the video streamed in from Ellie’s phone in San Antonio. She could hear the Bucktons shouting encouragements. She could hear Granny B praying out loud and in rapid-fire words asking “Lord Jesus, keep that boy on that bull!” which made Ruby laugh.

  Her heart had stuck in her throat as he walked up to the chute. Her heart had burst its seams as she watched him deliberately take the red bandana out of his pocket and put it inside his vest. Next to his heart. He must have known she’d see it—the action felt like his own brand of love letter to her.
Luke was right—they had found ways to cross the miles toward each other. For the first time, a future for them actually felt possible. Not easy, but possible.

  What that future would be, however, might be decided before she took her next breath. The chute was pulled open and JetPak shot out of the gate with Luke on top. She felt Luke’s wild movements—not wild at all, she knew now, but carefully orchestrated counterbalances—in her own ribs, felt the jerks of the bull down her own spine.

  Two seconds...three seconds...

  Her head spun from the tension, the world whittled down to just the jerky image from Ellie’s phone as she cheered a hundred and fifty miles away. The arena commentator was saying something but the phone’s audio was too scratchy to hear it clearly.

  Four seconds...five seconds... Come on Luke, hang in there...

  Six seconds...seven seconds...so close...

  Then everyone made noise and the phone dropped, the screen going dark and jumbled for a moment.

  Ruby yelped and stood up, nearly dropping her own phone. Were those cheers? Shouts of alarm? Her entire body seemed to go white like a strobe light—blanked out at high intensity.

  She heard Ellie’s voice, saw the image of fingers scrambling to pick up the phone. “Sorry,” Ellie shouted into the microphone. Then the image focused on the image of Luke, picking himself up off the arena floor, clearly favoring his left leg. The screen panned up to the clock, stopped at seven point five seconds.

  Seven point five seconds. One half of one second short of the goal.

  “He didn’t make it,” came Audie’s voice from the phone speaker, pitched high in alarm.

  The arena sounded eerily quiet. After a breathless couple of seconds, the announcer said something that made the crowd offer a huge, long cheer. Ruby could hear other people cheering, but no sounds from the family members in the row with Ellie.