The Island

by Alice Ward

  “I do too, actually,” James agreed as he cut his chicken fried steak into pieces. It was Monday afternoon and Matt, Lucas, James, and I were having a late lunch in Durango. We’d spent the morning choosing invitations, table linens, and flower arrangements. As soon as we finished eating, I was supposed to meet Renee at the bridal shop to try on dresses.

  Matt turned to James and cocked his eyebrow. “I thought you didn’t care about the details?”

  “I don’t. But I do care that everyone gets to sit back and enjoy themselves. Let’s not make any extra work for anyone, no wagon shuttles and a proper DJ instead of Mason with an MP3 player,” James insisted.

  “Deal,” Matt agreed.

  Lucas swallowed a gulp of his iced tea and turned to James. “So, are we on for Tucson?”

  James choked on a bite of mashed potatoes and reached for his Coke.

  “Tucson?” I asked, twirling fettuccini around my fork. “What’s in Tucson?”

  An ‘oh shit’ look crossed Lucas’s face while James swallowed. He turned to me with a blush.

  “There’s a rodeo in Tucson this weekend… it’s a qualifier.”

  My fork fell to my plate. “You still want to join the tour?” I asked. I did my best to keep my voice more even than my emotions.

  “I was going to talk to you about it, but with the wedding and everything, it just seemed like there was never a good time.”

  “I’m so sorry, Willow,” Lucas interrupted. “I didn’t realize James hadn’t spoken to you yet. Matt and I are going to drive down Friday night. I’m sure our hotel has some empty rooms, if you want to join us.”

  “We could make a weekend of it,” Matt added “I’m dying to check out some of the big city wedding boutiques. I bet we could find some unique pieces for the barn.”

  The men sat in silence, waiting for my reply as I took a long drink of my ice water.

  Of course he still wants to join the tour. But what would that mean for us? He’d be on the road all of the time and I’d have to stay home with the horses. But it’s his dream…

  “I know what you’re thinking,” James broke through the silence. “And I don’t want to be away from you either. I’m not sure I even want to tour, but I have to qualify. I’ve come too close to give up now.”

  I knew he was right. I took his hand, drew in a deep breath and gave him a confident smile. “Then I guess we’re going to Tucson.”

  ***

  Forty-five minutes later, I parked my truck next to Renee’s sedan and stepped out onto the hot asphalt. Renee slid out of her car and greeted me with a hug.

  “How did the shopping go? Did you find lots of stuff?” she asked.

  “We ordered our invitations, linens, and flowers,” I told her. “We hit the antique shop to look for old farm décor, but all we found was junk.”

  “Maybe we can have a girls’ day next week and drive into Denver,” she suggested as we stepped into the bridal shop. A skinny blonde woman with permed hair and hot pink lips was standing behind the counter, her cell phone pressed to her ear. She held the receiver away from her mouth as she greeted us.

  “Hi there. Feel free to look around, I’ll be with you in just a minute.”

  We nodded at her and started for the nearest rack of dresses.

  “Denver sounds good, but I’m not sure I can get away next week,” I explained to Renee. “There’s a qualifier in Tucson on Saturday. Matt, Lucas, James, and I are going to head out Friday afternoon.”

  “That’s just perfect!” Renee exclaimed. I was surprised by her enthusiasm.

  “I hate the idea of him joining the tour,” I confessed. “He said that right now, all he wants to do is qualify. But I know as soon as he does, he won’t be able to stay off the bulls. I hate it, Renee,” I said again, tears filling my eyes. I stared into the rack of dresses without really seeing them. James had nearly been killed by a bull, and the image of him lying bruised and broken in a hospital bed was still burned into my mind.

  “I know, sweetheart,” she said, her voice low and soothing. She wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me to her chest. “I hate it too, believe me. But it’s his dream, Willow. Neither one of us has a right to stand in the way of it.”

  “I know,” I agreed, brushing tears from my eyes. “I just have to have faith that he knows what he’s doing and he won’t get hurt. And to be honest, I love the idea of getting away for the weekend. I think it will do us good to be somewhere where no one knows us. These articles are really starting to get to him.”

  While most of the major news sources had finally seemed to drop our story, the super conservative publications were still crucifying us on a daily basis. So far, a total of twelve women had given interviews about their flings with James. Conveniently, they’d all insisted on remaining anonymous. I was convinced that someone was sitting in front of a computer pulling stories from their ass, but I had no way to prove it.

  “They’re getting to your father too,” Renee admitted with a frown. After a split second, her lips curled up in a smile. “I have a great idea. Your father had a doctor’s appointment this morning, and he’s been cleared to travel. I doubt he’d want to drive that far, but what if we flew to Tucson and joined you for the weekend? We hated missing your big weekend. I’d love to be there for James’s.”

  “That sounds perfect,” I replied with a weak smile.

  She squeezed me tight and then pulled away. “Everything is going to be fine, honey. And if it’s not, we’ll deal with it.”

  It was the first time I really felt like she was talking to me as my mom and I had to fight back another flood of tears. “Thanks, Renee.” I swallowed and turned away, embarrassed by my emotions. I studied the gowns, fingering the lace and admiring the beadwork. I spotted a strapless, tea length one and reached for the hanger, just as the front door opened again.

  “Hey Margie, thanks for covering while I ran out.”

  Renee and I recognized the voice and turned to the door.

  “Sasha, I was hoping you’d be working today,” Renee greeted the shop owner, who’d helped us find her dress. Sasha was two years older than me, two years younger than James. We’d all gone to school together and I knew there was a good chance she was once a notch on my fiancé’s bedpost. I held my breath and waited for her reaction. It was as bad as I’d expected.

  “I’ve heard all about your wedding, and my shop won’t be a part of it,” she said, staring at me defiantly.

  “Excuse me?” Renee said, completely blindsided by her hostility. I put my hand on her back in an effort to calm her.

  “It’s okay, Renee, let’s just leave.” I tried to push her towards the door but she wouldn’t be budged.

  “I’m not going anywhere until she explains what she meant by that,” Renee insisted.

  “You people are unbelievable,” Sasha hissed. “You think that because you’ve got money, you can do whatever the hell you want and call yourselves decent. What’s going on in your house is disgusting. And if that weren’t bad enough, you’re going to prance down the aisle with a couple of queers? To each their own, but my store isn’t going to be a part of it.”

  “Come on, Renee,” I said, pushing her again. “She isn’t worth it. I can get a dress in Tucson.”

  Renee shook off my arm and stared at Sasha. “I remember seeing you at James’s football games. You certainly didn’t seem to find him disgusting when you were wagging your ass in his face.” Her tone was syrupy sweet, in stark contrast to her biting words. I snorted as I fought back laughter.

  Sasha’s face turned bright red. She widened her stance and put her hands on her hips. Margie leaned against the counter and watched the scene in front of her, her mouth wide open.

  “Believe me, if I’d known James was a pervert, I wouldn’t have wasted my time,” she snapped.

  Renee gave her a patronizing smile. “Honey, you’re a horrible liar and jealousy doesn’t become you. You know as well as I do that there’s nothing perverted about Willo
w and James. They started dating before Cole and I did.” I appreciated Renee stretching the truth a little in my defense, but it didn’t pacify Sasha.

  “Well, there’s certainly something perverted about the wedding,” she said, her voice climbing an octave. “Two somethings if the rumors are true.”

  That’s right. She always tensed up when Matt was around. She was never overtly rude to him, but I guess she was just holding her tongue.

  The fake smile disappeared from Renee’s face. She pushed her shoulders back and held her head high.

  “Let’s go, Willow. You were right. There’s no point in arguing with her ignorance.”

  I took Renee’s arm and we walked to the door. We stepped out into the parking lot without turning back.

  ***

  A buzzer sounded and a bucking steer shot out of a shoot. Five seconds later, the far gates opened and James and Lucas rode into the dirt arena. In perfect unison, James’s rope flew around the steer’s horns and Lucas’s captured its legs.

  “I do love it when he rides,” Matt said under his breath as he stared lustfully at Lucas.

  I looked at James and shifted in my seat. I’d been perfectly calm in the hours leading up to the rodeo. Matt, Renee, and I spent the morning shopping. We found my wedding dress and all sorts of antique chandeliers and fixtures for the ceremony. I’d been confident that I could handle watching James on a bull until the moment we arrived at the stadium. From that point on, I’d been a nervous wreck.

  “Don’t worry,” Daddy told me. He squeezed my hand as the scores were announced and the crowds jumped to their feet. James and Lucas had won the event by three tenths of a second.

  “See,” Daddy said as he applauded. “James has got this. He’s going to qualify and he’s going to be just fine.”

  “From your lips to God’s ears,” I groaned as the announcer’s voice filled the arena.

  “All right folks, give us a few minutes to clear the floor and we’ll start the bull riding. While you wait, browse through your programs and take a look at the ads from some of our amazing sponsors.”

  I fidgeted in my seat as the dirt was cleared and the wrangler’s protective blockades were set up.

  “I’ll be right back,” Matt said. He darted off before I could ask where he was going. I leaned forward and looked past Daddy to Renee. She was as much of a wreck as I was.

  “Daddy, would you mind switching seats with Renee?” I said softly.

  He stared back at me, his face a blend of surprise and joy. “Of course not, pumpkin.” He turned to Renee as he stood. “Willow wants to sit by you.”

  For a moment, Renee’s face relaxed and her eyes widened. She slid into Daddy’s seat, took my arm, and held it in her lap. “At least he’s riding first,” she told me. “One way or another, this will be over soon.”

  Matt reappeared with four cans of beer. “I figured we could all use a little help with our nerves,” he explained as he passed out the cans. I cracked mine open and took a long drink.

  “I saw the guys when I went to the concession stand. I’ve never seen James so pumped up. He’s on top of the world, Willow.”

  “I know,” I agreed with a cringe. “But I also know that regardless of how long he stays on, he’s eventually going to hit the ground. I just hope he does it as gracefully as possible.”

  My heart hit my throat as the announcer’s voice boomed through the air again. “Okay, it’s time for everyone’s favorite event of the night, bull riding!” He held the last word at least twelve seconds longer than necessary.

  Oh my God, could you please just get on with it?

  “First in the chute is James Parker on Hellraiser. Parker’s not just riding for the win tonight. He won’t have to stay on too long to qualify for the tour. But can he handle the beast beneath him?”

  The buzzer rang again and the chute flew open. The bull rushed into the arena, contorting its body in fierce determination to throw James from his back. James gripped his strap tightly and stayed steady in his saddle. When Hellraiser kicked his back legs, James leaned forward and vice versa. I kept my eyes fixed on my fiancé, oblivious to everything around me. Suddenly, the buzzer sounded again and James leapt off of the bull.

  “Ladies and gentleman, please give James a round of applause and welcome him to the tour. And with the full eight seconds, he’s going to be hard to beat here tonight.”

  The wranglers herded the bull through a gate while James took off his Stetson and threw it into the air. The crowds rose to their feet in a roar.

  “Oh my God, he did it!” Renee screamed, jumping up and down.

  Relief flooded my body as I watched James take a victory run around the arena. The other riders formed a line on the far side of the stadium and gave him high fives as he passed by. Suddenly, I understood how it was so easy for Renee to support something she didn’t particularly like.

  This is his Triple Crown. There’s no way I can expect him to give it up. I don’t want him to give it up.

  I leaned over the edge of our box as James made his way to our side of the stadium. He rushed over when he spotted me, pulled himself up the short wall, and wrapped me in his arms. The crowds erupted in more cheers as he pressed his lips to mine.

  “Wow, I think they like us,” James teased as he pulled away. “That’s a new experience.”

  I grabbed his face and kissed him again. “I’m so proud of you. And I don’t want you to stop here. I want you to go on the tour and I want you to kick everyone’s asses. We’ll have Stan add a trophy room and build display cabinets for your buckles.”

  A look of awe spread across his face and his lips spread in a wide smile. “Are you sure? About the tour, I mean. I don’t need a trophy room.”

  “I’m absolutely sure.” I backed away and gave Renee a chance to congratulate her son.

  “Can you stay here for the rest of the event, or do you need to go back downstairs?” Renee asked as she and Daddy sandwiched him in a hug.

  “He can stay here,” Lucas answered as he stepped into the box. He and James gripped hands and pulled each other into a quick hug.

  “Congratulations, man,” Lucas told him. “When you get famous, don’t forget us little people.”

  “Oh, leave him alone,” Matt insisted, taking his turn to hug James. My stomach rumbled and everyone laughed.

  “You’ve been too nervous to eat,” James said with a knowing look.

  “I’ll go grab us all snacks,” Matt offered.

  “I’ll help,” Lucas said as he followed him out of the box.

  The next rider was announced and a black bull pummeled into the arena. The rider flew off two seconds out of the gate and I flinched as he hit the ground.

  “It’s not as bad as it looks, baby,” James assured me as he pulled off his chest guards. “The dirt is loose and forgiving, and these things absorb most of the shock.” He sat the guards in a seat behind us and sank into Matt’s chair. Matt and Lucas arrived a few moments later, their arms laden with junk food. He passed me a salted pretzel with cheese and I dug into it like I hadn’t eaten in weeks.

  I was washing down a mouthful of bread with my warm beer when my cell phone chimed. I dug through my purse and retrieved it.

  I wasn’t surprised to see the email icon lit up, but I was surprised by the name in the sender’s line.

  What could the National Thoroughbred Association possibly want? They aren’t voting on the award until next month.

  A few days after Belmont Stakes, I’d received a congratulatory email from the association, notifying me that I’d been nominated for the Rory Sutton Award. The award recognized the most promising up and coming person in the industry and after the Triple Crown, I’d felt certain I was a shoe in to win. For the sake of modesty, I hadn’t told anyone I’d been nominated.

  “Is everything okay?” James asked before shoving a hot dog into his mouth.

  “I don’t know,” I replied. I opened the email and my heart sank. The crowds around me leapt to the
ir feet, but I had no idea why and didn’t care to. I stared at the screen, reading the words over and over again, hoping the message would change.

  Dear Ms. Rogers,

  Several concerning points have been brought to our attention regarding your character and business practices. The information we’ve been given stands in stark contrast to the moral and ethical codes we strive to maintain within the industry. I am writing to inform you that due to this new information, you are no longer in consideration for the Rory Sutton Award.

  Regards,

  Mike Connely

  The National Thoroughbred Association

  Beneath the message was a list of links. I didn’t need to click on them to know what they’d lead to.

  “Willow…? Willow, what’s wrong?” James pressed.

  I couldn’t say the words. I handed him my phone and stared down at the dirty concrete floor.

  “Pumpkin, what’s the matter?” Daddy asked.

  Matt didn’t bother asking. He leaned over James’s shoulder and read the message for himself.

  “Those bastards,” he hissed.

  James looked up from the phone and saw everyone’s confused, concerned faces. He cleared his throat and explained.

  “Willow just got an email from the National Thoroughbred Association. They were considering her for the Rory Sutton Award. She’s been taken out of the running because of those fucking articles.”

  Everyone gasped in appropriate shock and indignation.

  “But those articles aren’t even true!” Renee insisted.

  “It’s no big deal, really,” I said half-heartedly. “I don’t need an award.”

  “Are you sure it’s because of the stories?” Lucas asked.

  James nodded and passed him the phone. “A bunch of them are linked in the email.”

  “Babe, hand me my tablet,” Lucas instructed Matt. “Willow, do you mind if I forward this to myself?”

  I shook my head. “No… what are you thinking?”

  “I’m not sure yet. Something just seems off about all of this, so I’d like to do a little digging.”