Page 163 of Knot Your Problem, Cowboy
“Only every night since we started this fundraiser.”
“I keep seeing it,” he admits quietly. “The moment I can’t hold on. The moment I fall. The moment I fail all of you.”
“Ridge—”
“We’re so close, Sophia. Four hundred thousand as of tonight. I know the donation is what counts, but what if I fail again, fall off in front of everyone coming to support us?”
“They’re not paying for a show,” I interrupt, putting my hand over his. His skin is cold despite the warm night. “They’re paying to support us. To save the ranch. To stick it to developers and banks and assholes like Ronan.”
“They’re paying to see Ridge Colter ride again.” His tone turns bitter. “The comeback kid. The fallen champion rising from the ashes.”
“So?”
He looks at me then, really looks at me, and I can see the fear he’s been hiding. “What if I’m not him anymore? What if that Ridge died in that arena three years ago?”
“Then the Ridge sitting next to me is enough,” I say firmly. “The one who’s spent every day for weeks training until he could barely walk. The one who comforted me through my heat and protected me from Ronan. The one who staysup fixing fences and managing horses and keeps this ranch running.ThatRidge doesn’t need eight seconds on a bull to prove his worth.”
“The bank doesn’t care about that Ridge.”
“Fuck the bank.” I take the bottle, managing a longer sip this time. “You know what I see when I look at you?”
“A washed-up cowboy drinking alone in the dark?” he says.
“A man who was willing to risk everything for his family. Who didn’t hesitate when we needed a solution. Who literally put his body on the line for the people he loves.” I turn to face him fully. “You already saved us, Ridge. Just by being willing to try.”
His jaw works, that muscle ticking that means he’s fighting emotion. “What if my hip gives out? It’s been screaming for three days.”
“Then it gives out.”
“What if I freeze? What if I get up there and can’t?—”
I stop his words by kissing him. It’s soft at first, just pressure and promise, but then he makes this broken sound and pulls me closer. He tastes like whiskey and fear, his hands tangling in my hair with desperate need.
“You won’t freeze,” I whisper against his lips. “You’re Ridge fucking Colter. You’re going to climb on that bull tomorrow, and for eight seconds, you’re going to remind everyone why you’re a champion. And thenyou’re going to come home to us, whole and victorious.”
“You sound very sure.”
“Iamsure. Because I know you. Because I’ve watched you fight through pain every single day. Because you’re the strongest person I’ve ever met, and I don’t mean physically.”
He kisses me again, deeper this time, like he’s trying to draw certainty from my mouth. When we break apart, we’re both breathing hard.
“I fucking love you,” he says quietly. “However tomorrow goes, I need you to know that. I love you more than I thought possible.”
“I love you too. We all do.”
As if on cue, we hear footsteps approaching. Two sets, one heavier than the other. Cash and Walker materialize from the darkness, both in sweats and T-shirts, looking rumpled from sleep.
“Thought we’d find you here,” Walker says, settling on Ridge’s other side.
“Can’t have a pity party without us,” Cash adds, dropping to sit on the ground, leaning back against my legs. “Pass the whiskey.”
Ridge hands him the bottle. “Who says this is a pity party?”
“The brooding alone in the dark gave it away.” Cash takes a swig. “Very dramatic. Very on-brand for you.”
“Fuck that,” Ridge teases.
“You’re definitely brooding,” Walker adds, accepting the bottle from Cash.
