Page 25 of Fragile Heart

“You all right, Bri?” Emily asks.

She stands a few feet away from her, arms tucked into the back pockets of her jeans, her brows furrowed with her concerned frown. Brielle’s posture is softer… and more fragile seeming, at least to my eyes. Her shoulders are slightly rounded, and her arms are crossed over her belly, almost like it’s an involuntary response to something the rest of us haven’t noticed yet.

She bites at her lip before tearing her gaze away from the Arch. Her lips part, but Camden cuts off her response.

“Bri, come climb!” When she looks over at him, he giggles. “Look at how far I can get!”

He’s only a few feet off the ground, not even reaching the bend in the tree as it starts across the trail. But his grin is so wide, his dimple is in full view, and her eyes are bright with his laughter. Fuck, I love that my son is such a happy kid.

After another long moment, she crosses the open space, leaning against the tree, her head tilted so she can still see Camden. Some of her nerves bleed away. I manage to relax, too.

Emily stares at me, her eyes seeing too much, but I ignore her. I pat Maple’s rump as I walk past him and join the others.

Camden, just like always, is happy to do all the talking. It keeps the birds from settling in the clearing, and the deer are far enough away that I can’t even see them through the trees.

Of course, if I wanted a chance to actually see the wildlife on a ride, I wouldn’t bring a four-year-old. Being subtle isn’t really their specialty.

“Bri,” Camden says. His tongue sticks out as he works to find a way higher on the tree. His foot slips, and Brielle takes a step closer, adjusting so she stands underneath him rather than off to the side. “Bri, do you like the rodeo?”

Brielle says, “I’ve never been. Do you like the rodeo?”

Camden looks down at her, his eyes wide in his surprise. “You haven’t ever been? Do they not have rodeos where you were before? Grandma said it was a big city. Is it big like Jackson? That’s a big town.”

Brielle smiles. I lean against a tree, tucking my hands in my pockets, content to watch them interact. Emily pulls a blanket she had rolled on the back of Redwood’s saddle, shaking it out and then settling on it, leaning back until the sun lights across her face.

“It’s bigger than Jackson,” she says. Camden slips again, and he loses his hold on the tree. Brielle catches him without missing a beat before I can even push off the tree I’m leaning against. My breath catches. Three feet isn’t super tall, but it can still break a wrist if the person lands just wrong. “And there’s a rodeo that happens in January every year, but I never went to it.”

Camden nods as she sets him down.

“Papa, do you have a snack?” he asks, looking over at me. Before I can answer, he turns back to Brielle. “I love the rodeo. It’s so fun. One time I got to ride a sheep. I don’t remember what it’s called. We’re going tomorrow ‘cuz Daddy’s friend is riding bulls.”

Brielle’s eyebrow rises, and she glances at Emily.

“Toddlers ride sheep?” she asks, her voice as uncertain as her look.

I can’t decide if she’s appalled at the idea or simply surprised.

Emily laughs. “It’s called mutton busting. And they wear helmets. Cam’s not actually old enough to do it for the event during the rodeo. You have to be five. But Triston let him try it out behind the scenes.”

“Papa, snack?” Camden asks, running up to me.

I take his hand and walk back to Maple, pulling the small snack I’d packed from the bag draped over his saddle. Camden purses his lips as he surveys the options. After a minute, he blows out a breath and races over to where Emily’s laid out on the blanket, plopping down next to her with all the grace of a linebacker.

“Triston?” Brielle asks, perching on a rock that juts out of wildflowers. She picks one of the small white wildflowers growing around its base and twists it into the braid opposite the flower Cam gave her. “He works on the Monroe Ranch, right?”

A possessive growl rumbles through my chest, but I keep it locked down. I lean against Maple’s rump instead of closing the distance, though, not trusting myself to be anything other than an asinine idiot.

“Oh, yeah,” Emily says. “He rides bulls, too. He’s trying to get enough points to get off the amateur circuit. If he wins tomorrow night and Brooks loses by at least two positions, it’ll probably be enough for next season.”

Brielle nods. “I hope it goes well for him, then.”

Camden shoves a pretzel in his mouth and asks, “Are you going, too, Bri?”

Brielle tilts her head. “I’m not sure. Melissa doesn’t really like the rodeo. It makes her sad.”

“Oh, because of my dad,” Camden says without missing a beat. “He liked doing something in it. What’s it called, Papa? What my dad did when I was a baby?”

My throat grows thick. “Roping, bud. It’s called roping. And he did it before you were born.”

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