Chapter Fourteen
Three days later, Sky was sitting in the makeshift AEBR managerial office in the Phoenix arena on a Skype call with the headquarters, pinching herself. Rather than being upset with her sculpture The Ride, corporate wanted to commission something similar only much larger for the corporate offices. No tattoo. Shirt and vest. Sky had nearly laughed, but now it was all she could do to not jump out of her seat.
She promised to get back to them with some preliminary design sketches soon. She also had an all-access badge to photograph a variety of riders as well as backstage scenes. She couldn’t publish anything without AEBR permission, and they had the right of…blah…blah…blah. They’d send her a contract. Sky would have Kane’s attorney look at it, but she had a commission. And a purpose. She wasn’t just Kane’s wife masquerading as his hanger-on baby mama, girlfriend.
She ended the call and spun around in the chair.
“Yes.” She jumped up and fist pumped the air, but before she could get too fired up, her phone rang. She crossed her fingers hoping it was Kane and that he was done with the autograph signing at a massive western wear and sporting goods store chain so that and she could tell him her great news.
“Hey! Are you done? Guess what?”
“Sky.”
Oops, Jonas.
“How are you? So good to hear from you, Jonas.” She infused her voice with more warmth. “You must be so busy with the auction Saturday night.”
“Tell me you are going to attend. I have a ticket for you.”
“Ahhh.” Sky paused at the door of the office, intending to leave so that she could head back to the hotel. She had planned to attend before Kane had burst back into her life with the subtlety of a bucking bull.
“The answer I’m looking for, Sky, is yes. Bring your cowboy if you must, but he can buy his own ticket.”
“Kane’s riding Saturday night.”
But only if he makes it to the finals.
It was disloyal to even think like that, and if he didn’t make the finals it was because his ass or some other part of him kissed the dirt, and the thought of that really made her ill, although she had seen him tossed off more than she cared to remember. But he always thought he could make it to the bell. Definitely a life lesson there.
“Riding what?”
“A bull.”
“You’re serious.”
“Very. That sculpture really was of him Jonas. He really does that.” Ugh she was practically gushing. “I took a bunch of pictures of him and of other riders the summer I…” she didn’t want to say followed him “…did my research.”
“You did a hell of a lot more than research,” Jonas said drily, and Sky could practically hear him rolling his eyes. “Bring him after. The live auction won’t even start until nine or so. Maybe he can get there early and do a little publicity to gin up the bidding.”
“I’ll talk to him.”
“What, he has you on a leash? You can’t go to promote your own art without him?”
“Jonas,” Sky said, pressing her lips together tightly because she should be able to promote her art, but this thing with Kane was so new she could hardly not watch him ride in his hometown. “I’m watching him ride on Saturday night. I promised, and it’s his hometown. I said I’d talk to him about the auction to see if we can make it, and I will. No promises.”
Long, tense silence. “You still delivering the sculpture series to the gallery tomorrow?”
“Yes,” she said. “Of course.”
“Good. I have a collector in town. He’s very interested and very loaded.”
Sky squeezed the phone, nearly hanging up in the process. “That’s good news, Jonas,” she said aiming for caution but her voice squeaked a little.
“See you tomorrow, and I want to hear a yes about Saturday.” He disconnected before Sky could mutter what had become the theme of her life—does anyone ever ask?
*
Kane headed to the dressing room area where he’d stashed his equipment bag and usual changes of clothes. He’d hated leaving Sky and Montana alone most of the day. The day had seemed flat and dull without them. Hopefully tonight, Sky would agree to attend the sponsor event at Cactus Whiskey Distillery, one of the larger sponsors for the Phoenix AEBR show.
Part of him didn’t want her to come because he knew a lot of the bull riders would be there and some would hit on her reflexively just to fuck with him. And a lot of the sponsors and the employees wouldn’t hesitate to hit on her either. She’d been so shy when they’d first hooked up four years ago that he had kept her apart from most of his world to protect her, but also, he grimaced wryly, he’d discovered he was a possessive and jealous jerk, and he’d wanted to squash that part of his personality. Hard to be jealous when you kept your girl to yourself. But now she was his wife. And he trusted her.
No more keeping his personal life totally separate. He was all in with Sky and he wanted her to be all in with him and his world. And that meant more public events. Together. He had a plan for tonight that she might not love, but it would solve one looming problem that she would hate a lot more.
“Gage.” Kane stopped in surprise. Gage was in the dressing room, straddling a bench and checking his bull rope for any fraying parts, trimming it, and he had some rosin ready. Usually riders worked their ropes Friday and Saturday late afternoon to settle themselves into their routine. Get their head in the game.
Gage bent over his rope, his expression shuttered, obviously deep in thought, and those thoughts were clearly not good. Kane had been there himself more often than not.
“You tight?” he shocked himself by asking.
He wasn’t the last bull rider on the tour who would open up or inspire a confidence, but he definitely wasn’t in the top ten. Or twenty. Gage noticed.
He straightened and looked up, his features smoothed—polite but distant.
“Kane.” He went back to his rope, pocketknife steady as he cut off the stray frayed threads. “Heard you got some changes in your life.”
“That’s a fucking understatement.” Kane laughed, nearly jumping out of his skin to hear it. What the hell? He was happy. Happy. Downright giddy like his first season on the tour when he was learning so much—how to ride, how to focus, how to manage his higher center of gravity and keep his body on the right plane, how to read the bulls and counter each move, how to be tough, pace himself and to take care of himself. Before all the marketing and money bullshit that tried to interfere with the raw exhilaration of the rides.
Weird.
Obviously because Gage stared at him, his hands still on his rope.
“Changes are good, right?” Gage asked cautiously as if he were worried that by asking a follow-up question he would be breaking some kind of personal bull rider code.
“Yeah,” Kane said, feeling like something that had been locked up tight inside him cut loose a little, making it easier to breathe. He never shared his shit with anyone on the tour. He’d been closest to Gramps—Rory Douglas—but Rory seemed to be getting injured more, emotionally pulling away. Kane liked other riders, respected even more, but he’d been so used to keeping his distance in an effort to keep his focus, he’d forgotten the concept of camaraderie, like he’d had when he’d first joined the tour before he’d rocketed up the ranks and the sponsors and money had come pouring in and the target on his back got bigger than a billboard.
“I got a daughter.”
“I heard.” Gage went back to his rope.
Kane pulled on his work gloves and pulled his pocketknife out of its holder hooked to his belt.
“Must have been a shock,” Gage said neutrally.
“Hell yeah, but a good one. I’m going to ask Sky to marry me.”
“That’s good.” Again it sounded like a question.
Kane felt defensive. “She wasn’t a hookup,” he said. “We’ve known each other for years. I was friends with her brother in high school.” Kane stopped splicing off the frayed ends of his rope because he’d likely cut himself or his rope if he didn’t. Now it sounded like he’d taken advantage of Sky—probably because he had. Too late now. Focus on the future. Gage didn’t seem to have the same trouble concentrating. He took off one glove and ran his palm up and down his rope testing the remaining stickiness.
“But you didn’t know about the baby?”
For Gage, who usually kept as much to himself as Kane did, this was one of the longest conversations they’d had and the hint of astonishment in his voice kept Kane talking.
“No. Having more than a little trouble getting over that, but…” he flipped out his knife again and returned to the inspection of his rope “…I will. Have to.”
Gage nodded, thoughtfully. “Not much choice,” he finally said. “A man has to live up to his responsibilities.”
“Damn straight.”
Which he would have done the second she’d told him she was pregnant. Anguish shot through him, but he pushed it down.
Don’t go there.
“Actually…” Kane surprised himself; he was getting downright chatty. “I wanted to ask her to marry me years ago. She traveled on tour with me for a summer. Best time in my life.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“I thought she was too young. Nineteen. In college. Wanted to go for her MFA so I thought I should keep it casual. See her on a few breaks, summers. Wait. Not suck her into this life until I was getting ready to finish with the tour.”
Gage looked shocked at that that admission. TMI no doubt, but he smoothed his features out immediately. Went back to stoic cowboy. Kane knew he should shut up, but he was all in now. Had more shit on his mind that he couldn’t really talk to anyone about. He knew Gage had some pressing parental issues of his own as well as a family tragedy. They sure had that in common. Between his and Sky’s family they had a fucking soap opera playing twenty-four-seven.
“You’re not thinking of walking away at the end of this year are you?” Gage asked still staring.
“Nope.”
“Casey is. Cody is,” Gage said as if testing the words and the concept of leaving. Rumor had it that Gage was here to prove something. Possibly he wasn’t coming back after the finals either. If he made it that far, which it looked like he would since he was hot on Kane’s ass this season. Twice he’d even bumped ahead. Kane hoped he would—make the finals and stay on tour.
Kane would be facing his exit possibly sooner than he was ready, but he had a strategy. Always. No matter how long he rode and his luck held out and his body held up. He knew how much money he needed and what he’d do with the money when he was finished. Only now, those goals were under review. Had to be.
“You know how you have this dream and you keep the dream tucked up tight inside you, and you only take it out and look at it when you’re alone?”
Gage didn’t look up at him, but his hands, busy with his rope, stilled and the rope fell on the bench. Gage’s hands hung there, empty. He stared at the rope, but nodded.
“Well I had this dream, this promise I made to my mother. A vow, really. Sacred. Like a blood oath—she’s my blood, my mother. I owe her. She went through hell for me, and I wanted to do something to bring her peace. I was sixteen. Ten years ago.”
Gage was looking at him now. His face spasmed a little as if Kane were hitting too close to home.
“I’ve been keeping that in my sights since I got on the AEBR. The goal. Always that—win, get the sponsors, do what they want, do what the AEBR wants, carry their water, because I got this goal, this dream I have to achieve. No room for failure.”
Gage’s eyes stayed steady on his. He swallowed almost convulsively. Yeah Gage kept his shit locked up tight, but he had it. They all had it, and it was probably time Kane started acting a bit more like a mentor, instead of a selfish bastard. Bastard. He tasted the word. It was literal for him. But not for his daughter. He’d made sure of that Monday. His first opportunity and he’d seized that fucker and wrung its neck.
He could die tomorrow or Saturday or even tonight driving to the event. No one knew when the reaper came to call, but bull riders were in more peril than any other athlete, period. But Montana would know that she’d mattered to him. That he’d wanted to be her daddy. That he’d loved her mom enough to make a commitment to her. And he was damn straight going to keep it until the day he died.
“But now I got my own family, and my mom’s dream…” Kane shrugged, not quite able to articulate what had been eating at him since he first wrapped his head around the fact that he had a child, that he was going to make Sky his wife. “I don’t know if that dream, that vow’s feasible anymore—all that energy and that time required and nothing left over for me to give to my wife and daughter.”
“Dreams can change,” Gage said, but his voice was heavy, his eyes dark and far away.
“Not easy,” Kane said ruefully after a long beat of silence where they were both probably thinking, somewhat grimly, about their futures, “to give up a dream, even if it’s not mine.”
His mom would be… He couldn’t begin to imagine how angry his mom would be, how dramatic, accusing. He’d never let her down. Ever. Everything she’d wanted, he’d done—except this. But now he had a wife, a child. He wanted more children, and they had to come first.
“Not easy,” he repeated more to himself, “but bull riders don’t live easy.”
“Amen to that,” Gage said. “Afuckingmen.”
*
Saturday night. Packed stadium. The crowd was freakin’ ready to rumble. Kane felt the energy hum through the floor, hit the soles of his boots and shoot through his body, a life current like he was his own personal lightsaber. The anticipation pulsed through the arena. The restless roar was electric. The smell of bulls. Dirt. Sulfur from the accelerant that would be lit to make the lines, all of them leading through the bull riders to the AEBR logo in the middle of the arena.
It was cheesy, but Kane still loved this part. The drama, the tension, the anticipation. The fucking fire. He stood on a line of fire most Friday and Saturday nights. And he was supposed to look like a badass while he did. They all got to pose like none of them had completely left all remnants of childhood behind, yet they were still Men with a capital M. They were goddamn bull riders, the baddest of the bad of cowboys. Kane was one lucky bastard. He was also jacked up. Tonight was his.
Yeah, Sky would probably prefer private, but fuck that. She deserved romance and grand gestures. She was his wife. He was going to propose so that everyone knew he meant it. No more hiding her away. No more pretending. He belonged to her and she belonged to him, and he’d had a ring designed that had cost more than his first truck. He wanted it seen across a room. Hell yeah, she was his. He’d been raking in stupid amounts of money over the past five years, and he’d invested most of it, saving, planning. Felt good to cut a little loose and do something because he wanted to and it felt good and she was his girl.
He lined up in the chute. Fuck there was tension here. The good kind. Riders were focused on their rides, their bulls. Their plan to keep their ass glued to the bull. The small talk and jokes had been shut down like a faucet thirty minutes ago. No drip, drip. Kane usually didn’t talk two to three hours before his ride, but obviously that didn’t fly with a three-year-old and he so didn’t care.
He felt it. He was going to stick it tonight and he was going to win. Tonight would be fucking fantastic. The happiest night of his life. He could feel it in his bones.
Lights went out. The roar of the crowd was deafening and lit up Kane’s blood. It would suck when he had to say good-bye to this. He loved challenges. He loved to grit it out and win.
But he’d find new challenges. No doubt. Just like when he stood on top of the chute looking down at the bull. Definitely no room for doubt there either.
The cowboys filed out to their places on the line. Names announced, tip the hat, cowboy pose and then the fire. It was a primal spectacle that he had yet to tire of. They were modern-day gladiators and the heartland arenas were all fucking coliseums. He felt the energy burn through him, and he wanted to scream from his soul and toss his hat in the air. It felt goddamn awe-inspiring to be alive.
*
Sky was on her feet with the crowd. Montana was in her arms yelling ‘Daddy’ when Kane’s name was announced. Tucker and Laird were beside her cheering Kane on. She wasn’t sure where Colt was. Kane briefly appeared on top of the chute fence looking down.
He was riding a Triple T bull—Dunkirk. It was the bull’s first season in the AEBR, but he was already making a name for himself. No bull rider had yet to stick him. That made Sky nervous but probably thrilled Kane.
Sky had been amazed by the heart and the resourcefulness of her new family and how they had so eagerly welcomed her and Montana into their lives.
Hallelujah.
Sky looked around the arena. Kane must be bursting. His family in the audience. His hometown. His family’s bulls from their growing stock-contracting program. Couldn’t live shinier than that.
“Please be all right, please be all right,” Sky now whispered, the memory of him in the dirt last Saturday still fresh in her mind.
“He’s going to kill it,” Tucker screamed. “Go, Dunkirk!”
“You are not cheering the bull,” Sky whispered.
“Usually,” Tucker said, tossing her long red ponytail.
“Always,” Laird chimed in.
“Well this time I’m cheering the bull and the rider, but my twin and I do like our one hundred percent bulls and we need our AEBR stock to keep scoring high. Our stock company is new to this level. Go, Dunkirk!” she shouted again.
Trying hard not to gnaw on her nails, Sky saw Kane drop down but then he jumped up again. The chute crew seemed to be focused on something.
“Oh God. Oh God.” Sky wanted to hide her head.
“Stay up,” Tucker hissed. “You’re a cowboy’s cowgirl and you have to be tougher than anyone else.”
Kane adjusted his helmet. His hold-hand glove. Handed his rope to his brother, Luke, who’d flown out yesterday. Luke and two men were talking, readjusting the bull. Kane popped down fast.
“I don’t think I can watch,” she whispered. She also didn’t think she could turn away.
“You need to watch,” Tucker said. “This is televised. Kane’s on top again—going into the final in first place in his hometown. Look adoring and smile. Nice dress.”
She did look good. She’d picked out the strapless red dress that was fitted lace on the bodice, but flowing, asymmetrical diaphanous tulle on the bottom. In keeping with the bull rider theme, she’d bought red cowgirl boots with silver details. She’d seen them in one of the boutiques attached to the hotel and though the price was astronomical, she’d charged them to the room. Kane kept reiterating that what was his was hers so she thought she’d give that concept a test run tonight. Kane hadn’t complained. His eyes had glowed with approval and then he’d pulled her in for a kiss.
“I want you to model the boots for me later tonight—just the boots,” he’d growled in her ear.
To keep the theme western, she wore a tight, cropped denim jacket with embroidered red roses and rhinestone details. She’d left her hair down so that it fell in waves.
For a moment she just soaked in the excitement of the arena. The novelty of her new life. Married. The concept no longer sounded or felt so foreign although Kane hadn’t told his family, nor had she and Kane exchanged rings. She knew she shouldn’t care, and it wasn’t like she was jonesing for a diamond, but it was hard to take words like committed and forever seriously without a symbol. Maybe she’d make him a ring for the ceremony with his family.
She saw Kane give the nod and then the gate flew open and the tan bull launched out practically horizontal. It rolled left, spun right and then proceeded to lurch forward, kick its back legs high, coming down hard on the front legs, and then the bull turned a tight circle and balanced on hind legs before kicking off and lifting its hindquarters startlingly high. The turns were wicked sharp and fast and Kane seemed to extend out from the bull, his posture erect, his core aligned with his pelvis so he never got shifted off his plane of balance. His left hand stayed high, never once flopping toward the bull or his body.
Sky felt dizzy just watching, and how the heck could eight seconds last like ten minutes?
“Show-off,” Tucker yelled. “He spurred Dunkirk twice. Rock star.”
The bell and the light went, but Kane stayed on.
“Get off.” Sky felt her throat close off in panic.
And then Kane hurtled off the bull, barely brushed the ground before he was off and vaulting the fence. He waved to the crowd, tossed his helmet to Luke, and took out his mouth guard.
Instead of Kane’s song, there was no music. Jessie was cued up to do the bro-victory stuck the ride dance, but he’d taken off his microphone. As the bull trotted friskily into the chute, Kane jogged over to Jessie. The score flashed. Ninety-two. Kane didn’t even look at it, but several AEBR officials started filing into the arena with the buckle and the check and the speeches.
“I know I usually do a little dance right about now.” Kane spoke into the microphone, his deep voice warm and amused. “It’s my thing, and Jessie is a great dancer and all but, I gotta confess, I found me a new dance partner.”
The women in the audience went crazy. The AEBR staff smiled, a little uncertainly. The PR staff, especially, looked stiff.
“Shit,” Tucker breathed. “He’s going to do it now.”
That didn’t sound good. “Do what?”
“Sky.” Kane looked up at her and crooked his finger.
Her blood washed to her toes. No way. He wouldn’t do this. He wouldn’t do this publicly, would he—well he would, but not to her, right? And without Alicia’s approval?
“Breathe and get out there.” Tucker gave her a push toward the arena fence like she was supposed to vault down there like a real cowgirl.
The cowboy on the horse rode over and before Sky could really process that Kane was going to do something very, very public, the cowboy held out his hand. Laird lifted her over the fence and even if she’d had the inclination to run, and she did, oh she definitely did, she knew she could never leave Kane hanging. She was over the fence and on the ground.
The crowd was cheering and then a Black Keys song came over the loudspeakers. Kane stood center of the arena smiling at her. She covered her mouth with her hand. This wasn’t happening—but it was. A laugh broke out as the first chorus sang out about love keeping you waiting. She used to jam out to the Lonely Boy song while cleaning the trailer or sketching while she waited for Kane to return.
He did a little dance spin and held out his hand. Before she could panic, Sky took a step toward him, then another then she did a ‘slide, roll, down,’ move that got the crowd warmed up.
“So we gonna dance or have a dance-off?” Kane asked. The crowd laughed.
“Dance,” she said softly. “You’re crazy.”
“I think you told me that more than once before and I’m view it as a good thing.”
Gosh, he was so good at this, and when he took her in his arms and did a fast-paced Texas two-step that had them whirling around, Sky let him have his fun and take over. She’d missed this. It had been a long time. Too long. And it felt so good to move with him, and watch him in his element that she almost forgot thousands of other people were watching them.
After sixteen counts, Kane twirled her and then lifted her with one arm so she slid across his back and came to a stop in front of him again. She smiled, still a bit bemused. Kane was lucky they were in public because Kane in chaps was a delectable sight, and she vividly remembered how she used to ask him to put them on when they were alone, just so she could watch him walk, and then she’d take them off him painfully slow until he was cursing with lust and impatience.
Kane dropped to one knee.
The arena was eerily silent considering so many people had been screaming and cheering a minute earlier. A lot of the bull riders were filing out in the chute staring at them. The film crew was getting obnoxiously close.
“Sky Gordon, I wanted to ask you this question four years ago, but my timing left a lot to be desired,” he smiled ruefully. “Sometimes I can be a bit slow.”
A ripple of laughter worked its way around the crowd.
“Sky, would you please make me happy forever by marrying me?” He pulled a ring out from deep in his jeans.
This was happening. Really happening. She was on TV in front of thousands of people getting proposed to by her still-secret husband. Please let this be a commercial break. Sky couldn’t even breathe so she stupidly bobbed her head.
“This is the part where you’re supposed to say yes.” His eyes warmed.
It was silly to feel so undone. They were already married. But the ring was so beautiful and Kane was making a public declaration and all her words seemed to tangle in her throat.
She stuck out her hand. He slid the ring onto her finger, but all she could do was stare at him. He was so beautiful.
“Still hoping for a yes.”
“I love you,” she mouthed.
Something flashed deep in his eyes, and pink stained his high cheekbones—a pale, pale pink under his golden skin.
“Is that a yes?”
She bit her lip and focused only on his face because if she thought about what they were doing right now, she’d probably hyperventilate. “Yes,” she managed to squeeze out through her throat closed tight by emotion. The crowd erupted and Kane stood and pulled her close. She held on like she’d never let him go.
“I already got my prize,” he whispered in her ear. “Getting the buckle and the money and congratulations seems like overkill.”