Page 60 of Roping My Rival

“Foster care. To a series of families who probably had good intentions but didn’t know how to deal with me. I missed so much time at school, and I was behind. I had a reading disorder, kids were mean, and I was…well, I was a dickhead. I ran away all the time and kept getting moved to new homes.” He sighs. “The point is, I know what it’s like to feel guilty for things that you shouldn’t. It took me…well, I’m not completely over it, but I’m much better. I know it wasn’t all my fault.”

He’d shared some of this before, and just like then, I’m in awe at how easy it is for him to share something so personal with me. If he can be brave for this stuff, maybe I can too.

“We went for a horseback ride,” I begin. When Warren kisses my head again, it’s the encouragement I need to keep going. “I’d saved enough to help her buy a quality horse. There was a breeder who passed away, and the family wanted them to go to deserving homes. They picked Darla.” Even as I share the memory, I can picture how happy she was. With her money and mine, we weren’t even close to paying the price for such a pedigreed horse, but they liked her. They liked us and felt we were a good match. More people I disappointed along the way.

“The horse was broke, but still needed training. It wasn’t used to trail rides and could spook. We knew that. I knew that.” A warm palm replaces Warren’s fingertips as he squeezes me closer. I don’t deserve his comfort when my beautiful sister has a brain injury because of me. “The horse, it…” Swallowing hard, I force myself to get it out. Maybe Warren is right, and once I tell someone, I’ll feel better. “I told her it would be fine, and it was just a short ride to get the horse used to our property. If it was gonna live here, it needed to be used to the place. It was a perfect day until it wasn’t.”

“Are you okay? You’re shaking.”

I don’t want to stop to assure him I’m fine because I don’t think I am.

“Feral pigs are all over that area, and I’d never seen one until that day, Warren. Three of them ran out of the bushes across the trail. Darla’s horse lost its mind. I thought she had it under control until…” A sob escapes, and Warren’s arm tightens against me. “It reared, and she wasn’t ready. She f-fell off backwards, and I’ll never forget the sound of her head hitting that tree stump. She was so limp. I thought she was dead.”

My words come out with hitched breaths, and tears dampen Warren’s chest, but he just holds me tight. Like I’m meant to share this against his skin, and I’m not the worst brother ever.

“We were ten minutes from the house. Neither of us had a phone. I picked her up and carried her as carefully as I could until I got home so we could call an ambulance. If I had been more responsible and not let her ride until the horse was more predictable, this never would’ve happened. I should’ve made her ride in the barn or…” I can’t say anymore. I hate reliving that moment.

“Hey…” Warren shifts to force me off his chest, and I turn away from him. The embarrassment of admitting all that and crying on his chest is almost as immense as the guilt over my sister’s accident. “Dane…that wasn’t your fault.”

“I knew she shouldn’t be on the horse until we acclimatized it, Warren. I appreciate the vote for my favour, but I should never have let her do that.”

“She’s a woman who wanted to ride her horse, Dane. She was going on it whether you went with her or not.”

My lips quirk into a half smile despite my sadness. “Probably.”

“So you saved her by being there. It’s unfortunate she didn’t have a full recovery, but if you hadn’t been there….”

Warren lets his sentence trail off, and while it’s a scenario I’ve often thought of, it doesn’t make me feel any better. I feel like I’ve already said too much, and now I still have to work alongside Warren while he knows this about me.

“We should probably get on the road soon.” Sliding away from his comfort and warm body, I head to the bathroom. “I’m gonna shower.” I don’t leave it as an invitation to join me, and thankfully, Warren says nothing about it.

After closing the bathroom door behind me, I start the shower and step inside.

I’ve talked more in the last thirty minutes about my life than I ever have. I hate how it’s on the surface again. Warren was wrong. Talking about it didn’t make it any better. It only brought it all to the front of my mind again, and I just hope it won’t interfere with our events.

It can’t.

I won’t fail my sister again.

Jogging up to Dane, I hand him his bib number by slapping it against his chest.

“How’s that for a number?”

He grabs the paper and reads the number before turning an unimpressed stare my way.

“6969. What are you, 12?”

“Wow. Tough crowd.” I pin my less exciting bib on with a snort. “And yes, I am.”

“Why are the numbers so high with such a small field? There’s only one flight of team ropers and half the number of tie-down ropers.”

I noticed that, too. “Probably just saving money and working through old bib numbers. Or maybe there were no shows. Could be anything.”

Dane stands at the rails as we watch the steer wrestlers. Since our explosive sex and his unexpected confession, it’s been hard not to feel the awkwardness between us. He’s kept true to promising not to tease me at events like he used to, but it’s like he’s a brand-new person.

Not that I don’t like this version, but it’s like his spark is missing, and I’m worried about what that will look like in the ring for us.

“So…we’re good, right?”