Page 74 of Mountain Time
She loops her arms behind my lower back. “Girlfriend, huh?”
“I mean, I thought that’s what this was. You gonna tell me I’m wrong?” I challenge as I start planting kisses all over her face and neck, causing her to giggle and squirm.
“Yeah, yeah, that’s what this is,boyfriend. But seriously, how long, Knox?”
I lean my head back and sigh. “Thirty minutes. It’s a long drive and we never know how long it will take to get through border security.” When I look back down at her, she’s watching my jaw. I didn’t even realize I was flexing it. I want more time withher, and it’s frustrating I can’t have it. “If it wasn’t the Calgary Stampede, I’d turn out and spend the day with you.”
“Absolutely not. That’s not the mindset I want you to have. You need to go, and you need to win.” Her tone is firm, she means business.
“I know. I just miss you and it’s your birthday.” I lean my forehead against hers. “I don’t want the fact that I miss your birthday, or you have a big roping and I’m not there to support you, to affect our relationship. We don’t even know when we’ll see each other next,” I tell her honestly. It’s hard not to let my thoughts run right to every reason that would cause her to resent me and eventually end this relationship.
She moves her hands up to my face and forces me to lean back and look at her. “So?”
“So?” I repeat, confused by her response.
“So, we don’t know when we’ll see each other next. So, you’re not visiting on my birthday. I never said I needed you there for my birthday, ropings, or anything else. You’re the only one thinking these thoughts. You were honest with me in June. I knew what I was signing up for, and I’m not going anywhere. If I have an issue, I’ll tell you.” She holds my gaze, making sure I see the honesty in her eyes.
“I don’t know what I did right, but getting to call you mine is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” I press a soft kiss to her lips. With her reassurance, I can take my first full breath since this night started. She’s trying so hard to trust me, I have to do the same for her.
“Now that we have that settled,” Kacey says smirking and running her hands down my chest, “how would you like to spend the next twenty-five minutes?”
“It’s your birthday—well, almost—what would you like to do?” I ask with a wink.
We spend the next twenty-five minutes making out like high schoolers.
Chapter 35
Knox
Dodge City, Kansas
The last few weeks have been brutal. Calgary is a progressive format, so when Trey didn’t make it out of his bracket—and I did—we had to split up. I had a break between my bracket and the semifinals, so we drove overnight to Casper, Wyoming. I rode there, then caught a ride back to Calgary for the semifinals with some bronc riders. I didn’t advance out of the semifinals while Trey went to two other rodeos.
At this point, I feel like the living version of the Johnny Cash song “I’ve Been Everywhere.” After Calgary, we had back-to-back rodeos in Salinas, California, Nampa, Idaho, Ogden, Spanish Fork, and Salt Lake City, Utah. We had one day off todrive to the Midwest for a handful of rodeos before heading back to Deadwood South Dakota then Eagle, Colorado.
Kacey was supposed to come to Eagle but got stuck at the ranch when the ranch hands were taken down by a case of bad food poisoning. Now we’re back to square one; not knowing when we’ll see each other next. Trey and I are in the Midwest again this week, then head straight to the Pacific Northwest where we’ll stay for most of August and September.
I’m exhausted, sore, and missing her, but I’ve climbed to number two in the world standings. When Kacey couldn’t make it to Eagle, I was close to turning around and driving to the ranch, but she talked me out of it. Encouraging me to keep going, reminding me I’ll be number one soon and that she’ll get me all to herself starting October first.
Now we’re sitting behind the chutes in Dodge City Kansas, it’s 112 degrees outside with no shade or breeze. I don’t know who thought a rodeo in the middle of Kansas in July was a good idea, but they thought wrong. Every year I complain about this rodeo, but every damn year I enter it again.
“What are the symptoms of heat stroke?” Trey moans next to me where he’s leaning against the fence to the back pens.
“How would I know?” I counter while putting rosin on my rope tied to the fence.
“You’re old. Old people have strokes, so I assumed you knew,” he mouths off without hesitation.
“It’s too hot out to deal with you,” I say as I walk away, searching for more bottled water.
An hour later, I’m on the back of the chutes, pulling Trey’s rope after I’ve ridden my bull for 85 points. “Breathe, Trey. Move with him, you got this,” I say encouragingly.
“Man, this rosin is like fuck’n butter.” He pats the bull’s hump with his gloved hand, trying to use the dirt and hair to keep his rosin sticky.
“I tried to tell you to add some dry rosin, too. But no, the old man doesn’t know shit,” I grunt as I pull with all my strength.
“Yeah, yeah, you were right. That what you want to hear?” He adjusts his hand in the rope before I pull it all the way tight.
“Too late now. Split the pinky and hold on like your life depends on it.” I finish pulling his rope and he takes the suicide wrap. He nods and the gate swings open.
