Page 1 of The Trail Boss

1

ROXIE

The room hummed with energy, laughter bouncing off the scuffed hardwood floors and worn walls. Roxie Albright gripped the pole in the center front of the small studio, her hands steady despite the slight shake in her legs. She could fake stamina better than most. Her body might have been screaming for rest, but no one here would ever know it.

“That’s it, ladies!” she called out, her voice bright and encouraging. “Use your core, not just your arms. You’re not just spinning; you’re flying.”

“Flying, huh?” Susannah, one of her regulars, puffed as she clung to the pole for dear life. “I feel more like I’m crash-landing.”

The others laughed, and Roxie joined in, the sound coming easier than she expected. “We all start there. Trust me. The bruises are proof you’re doing it right. Show them off like battle scars.”

Susannah grinned and gave the move another try, wobbling a little less this time. Roxie clapped, the sound loud in the cramped space. “That’s it! You’ve got it. Now, one more spin and land gracefully. Own it, Susannah!”

The woman completed the move, her ponytail whipping around as she dismounted with a little hop. She flushed with pride as the others clapped for her.

“See?” Roxie said, hands on her hips. “Easy as pie.”

“Maybe for you,” another voice chimed in from the back, a middle-aged woman who had been trying the same spin for weeks without success.

“It was for me,” Roxie teased, a mischievous glint in her eye, “after about a thousand attempts. You’re closer than you think, Alice.”

As the group practiced, Roxie paced the room, adjusting stances here, correcting grips there. She threw herself into her role with practiced ease, each word of encouragement a small defiance against the load she carried. These women didn’t need to know about the late nights, the bills piling up, or the way her body ached in places she hadn’t realized could hurt. She’d built this class to be a sanctuary—for them and for herself.

When the hour ended, Roxie gathered the group into a loose circle, handing out bottles of water. “Great job today. Remember, the pole doesn’t care if you’re strong or weak, experienced or new. It just wants you to show up.”

“That’s deep,” Susannah joked, but her smile said she appreciated it.

“It’s true,” Roxie replied with a grin. “I’ll see you all next week.”

One by one, her students filed out, their chatter fading as the door shut behind them. The silence was deafening, but Roxie welcomed it, letting out a long, slow breath. She leaned against the nearest pole, closing her eyes before peeling herself away and heading to the corner of the room where her bag waited.

Her notebook was there, tucked between a half-empty water bottle and a spare towel. Roxie pulled it out, her fingers tracingthe worn edges of the cover. She flipped to a blank page and stared at it, the emptiness both inviting and daunting.

The words she’d scribbled the night before sat in her mind, fragments of a story that felt almost like a lifeline. A hero. A woman who didn’t need saving but found love anyway. A world far removed from this one.

Her pen hovered above the page, but her thoughts refused to settle. Instead, they circled back to a name she tried not to think about. Jeremiah. His face was still sharp in her memory, even though he’d been gone for over two years. The accident had taken him, but it was his parents who had finished the job—ruining what little stability she’d had left. She closed her eyes and let the past roll over her once more.

Two Years Ago

The hum of the tires on the highway was steady, almost hypnotic, as Roxie stared out the passenger window into the inky black night. The faint smell of whiskey lingered in the air, mixing with the artificial scent of the pine-scented air freshener dangling from the rearview mirror. Jeremiah’s voice broke through the silence, slightly slurred but still tinged with his usual bravado.

“Relax, Rox,” he said, one hand loosely gripping the wheel while the other reached for the stereo dial. “I’m fine. It was just a couple of drinks. I can handle this.”

Roxie’s stomach churned, her nerves stretched tight. “You’re swerving, Jeremiah,” she said, her voice sharp with worry. “Maybe we should pull over and...”

“I said I’m fine!” he snapped, his words sharper now, his knuckles whitening on the wheel.

Her heart pounded as she gripped the door handle, every instinct screaming that something was wrong. The yellow lines on the road blurred under the SUV’s erratic movements, and a knot of fear twisted tighter in her gut.

The headlights of an oncoming semi loomed ahead, growing brighter by the second. Roxie’s breath caught. “Jeremiah, watch out!”

But it was too late.

The impact was deafening—a bone-shaking explosion of metal and glass. Roxie’s world turned into a chaotic blur of screeching tires, shattering glass, and the sickening crunch of steel collapsing in on itself. The SUV spun violently, her body slamming against the seatbelt as they careened off the road.

Her scream was torn from her throat as the vehicle hit the embankment, flipping once, twice, before the momentum launched her from her seat. The seatbelt gave way, and she was weightless for a moment before pain exploded through her as she hit the ground hard, rolling to a stop in the cold, damp grass.

For a moment, the world was silent except for the ringing in her ears. Her chest heaved as she gasped for breath, every muscle screaming in protest. Blood trickled down her temple, the metallic taste of it lingering on her lips.

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