Page 81 of Boston
But not well.
“I’m so sorry,” Boston said. “What was it about?”
“Oh, just stupid stuff,” Cash said, waving one big hand through the air at nothing. “Stuff I know we can’t control. Stuff that I didn’t even know I was mad about.” He looked down at his hands and picked at his fingernails. “Cousin stuff, you know?”
Cousin stuff.
So feeling left out. Left behind. Unwanted. Alone. Isolated.
Boston knew the “cousin stuff.”
“Like, I see all these other guys on the circuit with their daddies and brothers, and I don’t have anything like that,” Cash said.
Boston suddenly wanted to quit the one and only job he’d ever liked and go on the road with Cash, simply so he wouldn’t have to be alone.
“Then my manager moved,” Cash said. “And he didn’t take me with him, and I guess that affected me more than I thought it would. Then another buddy of mine broke his leg doing bareback at the end of April. And I don’t know, combined with everything, being by myself, talking to Ty in Texas as he pieces his life back together, I just can’t do the rodeo right now.”
His voice had risen an octave too high as he fought and spoke through his emotions. He drew in a deep breath, and Boston watched him settle himself. One second was all it took, and Boston admired his mental and physical strength.
“So when my daddy just sat and questioned me and questioned me andquestionedme….” He looked over to Boston again and gave a wobbly, watery smile. “You know how they are. They never let up.”
“No, they don’t,” Boston said, and yes, his own parents had irritated him on many occasions with their needling questions, especially to things Boston didn’t have answers for.
“And instead of telling him about the rodeo, and that I’m scared of being injured, and that I don’t know why I can’t do it right now, or why I feel like God wants me to be in Coral Canyon, I just let all the other stuff out. It was stupid, but I don’t know how to go to him and apologize.”
He shook his head and took a few more breaths. Boston gave him the space and time and silence that he required, because now that Cash had started talking, he’d see it through to the end.
“I’ve got to go over there,” Cash said. “I’m just going to have to act like he’s the bull, and I’m going to get on the fence, and I’m going to face it.”
“If there’s anything I know about your dad,” Boston said. “It’s that he’s one of the most forgiving men on the planet.”
Cash looked over to him, curiosity zipping through his expression, and questions being asked that he didn’t verbalize.
“It’s true,” Boston said, fighting his own emotions. This was not about him, and he didn’t want to overshadow Cash’s pain. “Your daddy’s done some things in his life that he’s not proud of. He’s hurt people. Heck, from what I heard, he was real mean to Aunt Faith when they were dating.”
Cash nodded, his teeth gritted tightly together. “He was.”
“But he made it right,” Boston said. “He takes off his hat, and he holds it in front of him, and he humbles himself before God, and then he goes to that person, and he makes it right.” He sniffed, simply to pull back on his emotions again.
“And you’re his son,” Boston said. “You have that gene inside you too, and I know your daddy, and he only wants you to come back.”
“Yeah,” Cash said, but the word didn’t carry any conviction.
“How many times has he texted you?” Boston asked.
“I think there was a thirty-seven next to his name.”
“Any calls?”
“Ten.”
“That’s not a man who’s not going to forgive you.”
“I know,” Cash said. “But what it also is, is a man who I hurt, and I can’t take back the words I said, even if I didn’t mean them ten seconds later.” He looked over to Boston with such hope in his eyes. “Have you ever done that?”
“Said something I didn’t mean that I regretted immediately?” Boston chuckled. “All the time, brother. Every day.”
“Yeah, I don’t think so.” Cash gave him a smile and shook his head. “But thanks for playing.”
