Page 1 of Take Me Please, Cowboy
Chapter One
Rye Calhoun’s 1986Chevy Silverado overheated four miles east of Bozeman as the sun began to set.It wasn’t the first time the blue and white truck overheated, and it wouldn’t be the last.But he was so close to Marietta’s rodeo and fairgrounds he could taste it.After nine hours behind the wheel, he just wanted to be there.Parked.Settled.
He hadn’t slept last night, too worried about his younger brother Jasper’s latest respiratory infection.Nineteen-year-old Jasper had been born with cerebral palsy and had struggles, but even with the disease, his infectious smile and endless optimism buoyed the family, lifting them during the darkest times.
Last night had been dark, too.Jasper couldn’t breathe.His vest wasn’t helping.His supplemental oxygen failed to make a difference.Even their mom, normally calm and together, panicked.There was no ambulance to call.No one to step in.So, Rye, once again, stepped in.Crouching in front of his brother’s wheelchair, he gently clasped Jasper’s face, telling Jasper to focus on him, and to breathe with him.Rye held his brother’s gaze.Slow breath in.One, two, three.Exhale, one, two, three.Breathe in, one, two, three, four.Exhale slowly, one, two, three, four.
They faced each other, breathing together.It might have been just a minute or two, but it felt like hours.Breathe with me.One, two, three.
Rye ignored the drama behind him.He blocked out his father’s voice and his mother’s anguish and focused on the only thing that mattered in that moment.Jasper.
Rye didn’t know how long it took before Jasper was breathing, his lips no longer blue.The oxygen kicked in, and Jasper gave Rye a small nod of his head.
Then, and only then, did Rye acknowledge his fear.He’d been afraid.They needed to live closer to a hospital.They needed better care for Jasper.Rye had had it with Eureka, a town on the border of Montana and Canada.It wasn’t the right place for any of them, especially not his younger brother, but Dad had been born and raised in Eureka and was loath to leave his hometown and his company.
Yet Dad didn’t pay the bills anymore.Rye did, and one of these days he and his dad would have to have a serious talk about the future, and Jasper, and his beautiful sisters, twenty-two-year-old Hannah and twenty-year-old Josie, because they had dreams, too.They were smart girls, strong girls, and they never asked anything for themselves, but they should.
Rye had come to realize their dad wouldn’t encourage the girls to pursue their passion, which was why Rye had to.Life had to be more than just survival.Because just surviving wasn’t enough.
Off on the side of the road, Rye lifted the hood of his Chevy.Steam hissed and water bubbled up from beneath the cap on the radiator.It’d be at least twenty minutes before the engine cooled enough to allow him to continue on.Rye should have replaced the radiator last year, but didn’t, not wanting to spend the money, not when it was needed elsewhere.
Pushing back the brim of his cowboy hat, he walked back to the trailer and checked on his horses.Lately, he’d only been traveling with Nickel but one of the barrel racers on the circuit, who’d be competing this weekend in Marietta, had expressed interest in buying five-year-old Topaz, and while Rye was loath to sell a horse he’d hand raised and trained, selling Topaz would help pay Jenna’s tuition for nursing school.
*
Nickle bobbed hishead, acknowledging Rye while Topaz stomped a hoof.Topaz, always impatient and intense, wanted to be free, wanted to run.While Topaz had fire, Nickle was his steady, reliable companion, ideal for roping events.
Rye patted both geldings, giving Topaz one extra because soon he would be gone, before walking back to the front of his truck.Although the steam was slowly evaporating everything still felt dangerously hot.
He felt dangerously hot.Juggling a four-day work week with weekends on the rodeo circuit had worn him down.He didn’t hate roofing—it was his dad’s company after all—but he didn’t enjoy it, and it wasn’t what he wanted for himself.Being a rodeo cowboy wasn’t his future, either.It was hard on the body and hard on the family.But at least being on the road gave him a chance to escape Eureka for a few days and make some extra money, income needed.But it was hard to be away from everyone when Jasper struggled with and suffered infection after infection.
Rye pulled out his phone, checked messages.Zero.No missed calls, either.That was a good sign.But it didn’t ease the hollow ache inside of him.When busy, he was able to ignore the emptiness, pretend it didn’t exist.He’d come to tell himself that the emptiness—part resignation, part dread—wasn’t real, but rather fatigue, and it would pass.When he became more successful.When he made more money.Always this need for money.He’d been responsible for his family for over a decade, but it hadn’t always been so desperate.When his father worked, before his accident, everything had been easier, financially, emotionally.There had never been a lot of money but there had been enough.They had gotten by and even had a few luxuries.Dinners out.A new van that could accommodate Jasper’s wheelchair.His sisters had taken dance classes, and Josie had taken some voice lessons, and while there were no trips to Disneyworld, they would drive up to his grandparents’ farm in Alberta every summer and they’d all enjoyed that.
But once Dad was hurt, the trips stopped, the lessons stopped, the custom van was traded in for an older model that Rye adapted himself for Jasper.
A truck pulled up behind Rye’s on the side of the road.Rye straightened and looked toward the black truck, one of those classic all-purpose work trucks that were neither new nor old, but practical.A man was behind the wheel and a young blonde woman sat beside him.Rye couldn’t help giving the woman a second look.In the setting sun, she appeared gilded, her long gold hair an ethereal halo, her slender frame illuminated.
The man climbed out of the black truck, tall and lean with dark blond hair.He headed toward Rye.“Need help?”he asked, glancing at the propped hood.
Rye swallowed his embarrassment.He hated needing help and did his best to never ask for it.“Overheated but should be okay soon.”
“So, it’s not the first time,” the stranger said sympathetically.
“Unfortunately, not.”
“Jackson Flint,” the other said, extending his hand.
“Rye Calhoun,” Rye answered, shaking Jackson’s hand.
From Jackson’s size and grip, Rye suspected he used to play football.“I’ve put off getting a new radiator long enough.Clearly, it’s time I replaced it.”
“Where are you heading?”
“Marietta.”
“For the Copper Mountain Rodeo?”
Rye nodded.“You know it.”
