Page 80 of Boston
“Where’d you come from?” Boston asked, hoping to give him a minute to continue to compose himself. “I can’t remember if you said you were going to be in Vegas or Denver.”
“Neither,” Cash said, and he headed toward the building. When Boston had gotten the job at Silver Sage, he’d moved out of the apartment he shared with Cash, and his cousin had helped him move in here, taking precious time from his training schedule to do so.
“So where’d you come from?” Boston said, pressing the issue as he fell into step beside his cousin. “Listen, brother, you’ve got to tell me some stuff while you’re here. Okay?”
Cash cut a look over to him, and his jaw turned tight, but he nodded. “I was actually up in Billings.”
“Oh,” Boston said brightly. “What were you doing up there?”
“I’ve been working with a guy,” Cash said. “An amateur bull rider, hasn’t turned pro yet. He was riding a rodeo up there, and I was coaching him.”
“I didn’t know you coached others,” Boston said.
“He’s the only one,” Cash said. “He doesn’t pay me. It’s like a mentorship more than anything else.”
“So he’s got a coach too?” Boston asked, because while he knew a little bit about the rodeo, he certainly didn’t know all the ins and outs.
“No,” Cash said. “You don’t typically get trainers and coaches until you go pro.”
“Oh, sure,” Boston said.
They reached the bottom of the steps, and Cash let Boston go first. He jogged up them to the second floor and opened the door with a flourish, gesturing with one arm toward hisenormousstudio apartment. He grinned with everything he had. “Welcome to my humble abode.”
Cash finally chuckled, and that set Boston further at ease.
“Thanks for letting me stay here,” he said.
“You’re welcome here any time,” Boston said. “And I’m not only saying that because I managed to get the next two days off to entertain you.”
Cash moved inside the apartment and unshouldered his bag. “You didn’t have to do that. I told you, I’m real good at entertaining myself.” He moved to the back wall, which housed the kitchen. “You guys have a nice pool and restaurants here. And to be real honest, I brought my big bag because it’s the one that has my sleeping pills in it.”
Boston chuckled. “There’s no rest for the weary,” he said, repeating something his father often told him.
Cash looked like he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, in his expression, and all across his forehead. Bostonwanted nothing more than to erase it all from him, and he suddenly knew how his momma and daddy must feel about him, and how Heavenly Father feels about all of His children.
Instead of going around, Boston hopped right over the back of the couch and sank into it. “Come tell me everything.”
Cash sighed, but he moved to the opposite end of the couch and sat down. He swept off his cowboy hat and set it on the front arm of the sofa.
“There’s not much to tell,” Cash said. “It’s a boring drive from Billings to here.”
“Yeah, I don’t mean that,” Boston said. “I mean, why you haven’t answered any of my texts in the past couple of weeks?”
Cash closed his eyes as if he might turn feline and Boston wouldn’t be able to see him that way.
“Or why you’re not doing rodeo this summer,” Boston continued, feeling the spirit tingle through his limbs and telling him to continue. “And anything else you’ve got going on in that smart brain of yours that I can help you figure out.”
“Who says there’s anything?” Cash’s voice sat at a dangerous level of quiet.
“I do,” Boston said. “Because I know you, Cash. Anyone else who does just has to take one look at you, and they’ll be concerned too.”
Cash opened his eyes and stared straight across the room. A TV had been mounted to the wall there that Boston used very little. It sat dark now, and as the seconds slipped by, he thought he might have to be even more forceful to get Cash to start talking. His pulse pinged around his body, because he really didn’t want to have to do that.
Then Cash looked at him, his midnight eyes dark and wide and shockingly pooled with tears. One spilled out of the corner of his right eye, and Cash let it splash against his cheek and flow down his face.
“I had a real bad fight with my daddy,” he said. “And I bought a new phone and left my regular one in my apartment while I went to Montana.”
Boston knew exactly what his father would say aboutthat, but he kept the admonition that it wasn’t safe for anyone to not know where he was to himself. Cash didn’t need to hear it. He’d been living on his own for a while now, and he’d obviously made it to Billings and back alive.
