Page 81 of Homebound

The rodeo—it’s ruthless.

It breaks us all at some point, and that time, it broke Nash.

33

TAKE IT ALL

WYATT

She’s late, so I’m panicking.

I’m pacing by the barn door, my heartbeat battering in my chest while I glance at the rooster clock every five seconds. I squint at the ticking needle.

Are those hands moving slower?

It’s almost nine, so Dakota should be home from the rodeo by now. Vi is finally asleep in her crib, but it took forever to get her there. She could probably sense my anxiety, so I read her five bedtime stories—complete with voices for Tommy the Turtle—just to calm her down. Now the silence feels unbearable as I wait, worry gnawing at me.

Moonlight crawls higher and higher on the wood floorboards while crickets chirp through the open window, and it would be peaceful if my ears weren’t ringing. It’s always like this when I can’t watch her.

See her.

When I don’t know if she’s safe.

Suddenly, gravel crunches on the driveway, and a minute later, the front door swings open, bringing with it a rush of warm night air and a sight that makes my stomach clench.

Dakota stumbles in, supported by her dad, his strong arm around her waist. She’s covered in dirt, sweat, and… is that blood? I’m going to lose my shit if that’s her blood. Her face is pale, and her brown eyes are glossed over like she’s seen a ghost.

I rush to her side, and she doesn’t even look at me, just stares blankly at the floorboards. “What’s wrong?” I panic. “Did something happen? Is she okay?”

Colt’s face is grim, his brow furrowed deeply as he gently, so gently, brushes a strand of Dakota’s brown hair off her face. “We had a bit of a scare at the rodeo, and I think she’s in shock. Hell, I’m in shock, but one of us had to drive Daisy Blue home.”

“What happened?” I ask, scanning her for injuries. “Did she get hurt?”

“No, but one of our boys got speared by a horn, and it wasn’t a pretty sight.” Colt winces. “He’ll live, but he won’t be the same.”

I rush out a breath of relief that she’s okay, but then I feel guilty for not thinking of the guy.

I clasp my hands behind my neck. “Shit, that’s brutal.”

Dakota pushes Colt off her and heads straight to the liquor cabinet, her movements jerky and unsteady. She yanks out a bottle of tequila and pours herself a hefty shot with trembling hands.

Colt and I exchange worried glances when she downs it in one go. She goes to pour another, but he stops her with a hand on top of the bottle.

“One shot will dull those feelings, darlin’, but two? That’ll make those emotions a hell of a lot worse. Trust me. It’s a slippery slope when it comes to drinkin’ away your problems, and it normally just ends with you feeling all those things you tried to dull in the first place.”

She blinks at him, blinks again, and then she slowly lowers the tequila bottle. He kisses her forehead, and watching them be so raw with each other, so real, it’s exactly the type of relationship I want to grow with my daughter.

“There you go,” he rasps. “Go shower off and get a good night’s sleep, alright? A good night of sleep can solve almost any problem.”

She nods but doesn’t say anything. Colt spins in his boots and crooks a finger at me. I strut up to him but keep my focus on Dakota breathing hard in my periphery.

He peers at me, those dark eyes even darker with concern. “You’ll take care of my girl?”

I fight the urge to say she’s mine too and nod instead. “Always, sir.”

He seems to soften at that, and maybe I’ve cracked his hard exterior. “Good man. I always knew you were a good one.”

After stepping back, he murmurs something low and soothing in Dakota’s ear and wraps her in a tight hug, his rugged hands gently patting her. She doesn’t hug him back, just lets her arms dangle at her sides like a rag doll. After a moment, Colt sighs and heads out the door, the heavy wooden slab creaking shut behind him.