Losers Weepers by Nicole Williams
I bowed while Jesse heaved a sigh.
“How have the cattle been?” he piped up, obviously wanting the topic shifted away from death wishes. “You need a hand this week with anything?”
“If you know of a way to magically turn fifty head into five hundred, I’d love a hand with that.” I kneeled beside them because I felt weird talking down at them. I guessed I’d learned a few things from riding around in that wheelchair for a month. “Other than that, yes, I’d love a hand. With anything and everything.”
“I can’t believe it.” Rowen shook her head. “You’re becoming Rancher Black. Good for you.”
“I’m not sure you can call the man who’s adding to his herd literally one cow at a time a ‘rancher’ per se, but I’m hoping to get there one day.”
If I hadn’t been looking at her, I wouldn’t have believed that the reason for the glassiness in her eyes was because she was getting . . . emotional? That was a condition Rowen didn’t register—at least not in a form other than anger or irritation.
“Good for you.” She patted my hand. “I’m proud of you.”
When she sniffed and looked away, I guessed to hide the tears forming, I looked at Jesse with a dumbfounded expression. All he did was shrug and keep his lips shut.
After I’d paid all the hospital bills, against all odds, I’d still had enough left in my bank account to purchase a portion of the land we’d planned on and add a handful of cattle to get us started. It was a tenth of what Josie and I had planned on having by this point, but instead of it being a defeat, it felt like a victory. After facing the very real possibility of never walking again, being able to ride a horse and navigate our land and our herd was like finding an unexpected corner of heaven on earth.
“Well, it’s a far cry from where we hope to wind up, but fifty cows are better than zero,” I said, talking to Jesse since Rowen was still looking away, trying to hide her emotions. “After this year, with the money I plan to make riding bulls, we should be able to purchase the rest of what we’d planned on.”
Jesse nodded, the same look flashing across his face that I’d seen on Josie’s lately. He was worried too. He didn’t want to see me get hurt either, but I guessed he was like Josie in that he recognized riding bulls was as much a part of me as Montana and ranching were. To just give it up and walk away would have been like betraying myself.
“And the tweaker? Still nothing?” Jesse wrapped his arm around the back of Rowen’s chair, giving her shoulder a gentle massage.
My upper lip curled at the mention of the piece of shit. After Josie and I had called 911, they’d sent both a police car and an ambulance. He’d left in the ambulance though. He’d had a pretty bashed up face and a few cracked ribs that could have come from me or from living the kind of hard life people like him had, but he’d only been in the hospital for a day. He’d stayed in jail for a few days, and after that . . .
“He’d better keep his sorry ass down in New Mexico because if I ever so much as catch a whiff of him around these parts again, I’m going to do what I should have done instead of calling 911 and bury him alive in an unmarked grave.”
Jesse gave a nod like he approved. We might have been totally different guys, but in one way we were identical—we’d have done anything to protect our families. Even if that included committing murder.
After keeping tabs on whom the prison and hospital had dubbed “John Smith” when he’d refused to give them a name and I’d offered the one of Shithead, I’d been waiting for him on the steps of the prison the day he was released. I gave him a one-way train ticket and a threat that made him skulk away from me as if I were more to fear than the devil himself.
“I think I’d better visit the bathroom one more time before you take center stage, Black. I wouldn’t want to miss it. You’re going to do great tonight—I know it.” Rowen started to shove out of her chair as though it were as complicated and daunting as an obstacle course.
Jesse and I snapped to our feet and each held out a hand to help her the rest of the way up. I stayed quiet when she was standing in front of me, waiting.
“What’s the matter, Black?” she asked around a yawn.
“Nothing, I’m just waiting for the punch line,” I answered.
“What punch line?” she asked, tilting her head at me.
“You know, the sarcastic one peppered with a little smartass I’ve come to expect from you after you direct a few nice words at me.” I gave Jesse another look, like I was wondering where the real Rowen Sterling was hiding. “That punch line.”
She leaned into Jesse as though she needed the support or to help her balance. “No punch line.”
I felt my mouth start to drop open, and that was when she held out her arms and moved toward me.
“Come on. I need a hug, Black,” she said with another sniff. “I want a good, solid hug from you just in case you decide to go and give us a repeat of the last ride we saw.”
When her arms wrapped around me, I froze for a moment. I wasn’t used to being hugged by Rowen. I hadn’t known she was capable of those kinds of expressions of affection when it came to me. That wasn’t the only reason it felt weird though—her basketball of a tummy was shoving into mine, and that felt all sorts of strange too.
“You hug like a little girl,” she muttered as I held her loosely, my hands carefully patting her back.
Behind her, Jesse was trying his damnedest not to smile, but he was failing big time.
“Ah, there she is—the Rowen I know and love.” I tightened my arms around her and returned her strong hug.
“That’s better,” she said before moving out of our embrace and bee-lining for the door. She lifted her hand at Jesse when he started to follow her. “I can’t take you hovering outside of the ladies’ room one more time today. Sorry. A girl’s got to be able to do some things on her own, and going to the bathroom makes that list.” She continued through the door when she saw he was staying. Blowing a quick kiss his way, she hustled toward the bathrooms.
I came up beside Jesse and nudged him. “Rowen just hugged me. Did you see that too? Or was that just my imagination?”
“No, she hugged you all right.” Jesse continued to stare at the door where she’d disappeared.
“Pregnancy messes with a woman big time,” I mused, shaking my head.
“Pregnancy messes with a guy big time,” Jesse said, motioning up and down at himself as though he were all the proof necessary to support his claim.
“Hanging in there still?” I hooked my boot behind the leg of one of the chairs and scooted it toward me before dropping into it.
“At best,” he answered, taking the other seat.
“How’s everything working out being back at Willow Springs? Still going good?”
Jesse’s face cleared some from the shift in conversation. I always did a quick mental health check with him to see how he was getting along with the whole pregnancy thing, but I didn’t linger on it. Rowen’s body was on his mind all day and night, so when we were together, I tried to get his head someplace else for a few minutes.
“It’s still good. We’re heading back to Seattle for a few weeks soon. Then we’ll be back here until Rowen delivers. I don’t want to be going back and forth when she’s in her third trimester.” He was staring at his hands, studying them as if he saw something there I couldn’t.
“Still going to build a little place of your own out here?”
A smile broke across his face. “Yeah, we already broke ground. Our baby might celebrate its third birthday before we find enough time and save enough money to finish it, but yeah, that’s still the plan.”
“I’m sure your mom absolutely hates that you guys will be staying in Montana part of the year.”
Jesse chuckled. “Yeah, doting grandmas really hate having their families a half a mile away.”
“Well, hell, with you helping me out at my place, I’d be one worthless friend if I didn’t return the favor.” I nodded at the guy who’d just s
“Thanks.” Jesse nudged me. “I’ll take you up on that offer. Probably more times than you’ll like.”
I huffed and popped out of the chair to grab what else I needed for my ride. “Yeah, because of the two of us, you’ve always been the one to take advantage of our friendship.”
As I wandered over to my duffel bag to pull out my gloves and everything else, Jesse headed for the door. When he got there, he paused. “Whatever happened to that ring you used to carry around in your back pocket?”
I patted my left ass cheek. “It’s still there.”
Jesse’s brows pulled together, his forehead creasing. “What’s it doing there? Shouldn’t it be on the woman you love’s finger by now?”
I gathered what I needed then headed for the door he was waiting by. “A guy just doesn’t casually slip a ring on a woman’s finger after everything Josie and I have been through. After all of the crap Josie’s had to put up with being with me, I’ve got to do it right, Jess. I can’t just take her out to dinner and propose by popping her ring in the dessert. I’ve got to, like, reserve a flight to the moon or something so we can be the first couple to get engaged in space. Or take her to see all of the Seven Wonders of the World before getting down on my knees in front of the Taj Mahal and begging her to be my wife. I can’t just propose to her the way everyone else gets engaged. Not when she’s so fucking beyond average . . . she deserves the best.” I patted my back pocket once more. “That’s why this ring is still resting in my back pocket.” From the look on Jesse’s face, it was like I was talking gibberish. I waved my finger at his face. “You’ve either got something to say or you’re seriously constipated. Which is it?”
“Just . . . I don’t know . . .” He shrugged. “I guess I just thought that after everything you’ve gone through, after what you just went through, you’d realize that you can’t take the future for granted. You can’t even take the next hour for granted. Especially given you’re climbing onto the back of one of the toughest bulls in this circuit in a few minutes,” he mumbled.
“Don’t you think I know that?”
“No, not really. You’ve had a ring in your back pocket for months, Garth. That means you’ve been planning on proposing for Josie for at least that long, but you still haven’t asked her yet.”
I worked my jaw free. “I’m waiting for the right moment.”
Jesse looked at me. For the first in a long time, he looked like the best friend I remembered growing up with instead of the freaked-out father-to-be. “The right time is right now.” After giving my cheek a few sharp pats, he exited through the door toward the women’s restrooms, where his “right now” was waiting.
Jesse had long since disappeared down the hall before I could shake myself out of the shellshock he’d thrown me into after dropping that on me. “The right time is right now”? Who said something as big as that and just walked away to leave a person to their confoundedness?
I was still standing there shaking my head when someone hollered down the hall that I’d better move my ass unless I wanted to be disqualified. That was enough to get my attention and get me moving again. As I jogged down the hall toward the arena, the sound of my boot-steps echoing around me, Jesse’s words were all I could think about. When I should have been thinking about nothing but the ride, I was thinking about six words that had just come from my best friend’s mouth. Not the way I wanted to go into my first ride in months . . .
When I busted into the arena, the sound of the crowd assaulted me. The smells of the arena, a mixture of dirt and animal and fried food, almost bowled me over. Going from the solitude of that room to this din was a serious shock. Or did the shock have more to do with what Jesse had just said?
“Black!” one of the other riders yelled at me from the chutes. “You’re up!”
Sucking in a breath, I pushed past the roar of the crowd and everything else assaulting my senses and moved forward. After a few steps, I found my stride. I broke into a jog since I was being pretty much told to haul ass or get skipped. In the midst of my sprint, I leaned down enough to snag a handful of dirt from the edge of the arena and let it trickle through my fingers the rest of my journey. Tonight was not the night to give up on time-honored traditions and superstitions.
I leapt onto the fence and was starting to climb it when I caught sight of someone leaning up against the fence on the far end. Her face was sticking through the cracks in the railing, and even from here, I could make out just how hard she was worrying at her lip. Josie had told me that she wouldn’t be able to watch this ride. She’d apologized and promised she would watch the next and the rest that followed, but she just couldn’t watch tonight’s. I didn’t ask her why—I didn’t even feel a flicker of disappointment that she wouldn’t see my comeback ride. I’d just pulled her close and kissed her forehead.
But there she was. Watching me with those big green eyes, looking as though her heart was ready to leap out of her throat. She was there, right then, watching me . . . waiting for me . . . supporting me.
What the hell was I doing climbing a fence toward a bull when I had the most important question of our lives to ask her? Right, apparently, this moment. In my back pocket, that ring burned another hole in my ass.
“Hey, Black. I know it’s been a while since you’ve been on one of these, but here’s a little reminder.” One of the guys manning the chutes lifted his chin. “You don’t have to wait for an invitation. You can just climb on board and get after it.”
Across the arena, Josie noticed me watching her. She stopped worrying her lip long enough to smile. She could only hold it for a moment before she got back to biting at her lip.
I smiled back. Then I jumped off the fence. “Call the next rider. I’ve got something more important to do.” Slapping the guy’s arm, I jogged toward the end of the arena.
“Where in the hell are you going, Black?”
“To do something I should have done a long time ago!” I hollered back, although I wasn’t sure if he could hear me above the crowd.
“And this something can’t wait thirty seconds?” he called back.
I shook my head and kept jogging. “It can’t wait one more second,” I said to myself.
The people in the stands were watching me, probably guessing I was chickening out after what had happened last time or speculating that I’d lost my mind. Some of them were starting to chant my name, but even if every last person on Earth had chanted my name at that very moment, it wouldn’t have kept me from doing what I was about to.
I was getting close to where I’d seen her, and the closer I got, the faster I moved. I wasn’t sure if she’d seen what had happened, but when she finally came into view and her eyes went wide with surprise, I guessed she had no clue I’d just walked away from my first ride of the season.
“Garth?” She pushed back from the fence, her forehead creasing with confusion.
“Hey, Joze.” I was smiling so wide I was surprised I couldn’t feel my ears with the corners of my mouth yet.
“What’s going on? What are you doing? They just called your name.” Her face turned from the center of the arena to where I was making my way toward her.
“There’ll be other rides.”
“But this one. Your first one after your accident . . .” Her forehead creased deeper. “This one was important to you.”
I shook my head as I stopped in front of her. “Not as important as you are to me.” Looking around the arena, I noticed plenty of eyes on us, despite the rider next up being about to start. I loved my fans, I was thankful for every one, but I didn’t want an audience for this.
This part of my life I wanted to keep sacred.
Grabbing Josie’s hands, I pulled her into the tunnel and out of view of the arena. With every step farther from the arena
“What’s going on, Garth? You’ve got me worried.” Josie looked over her shoulder like she was waiting for someone to come haul me back to the arena.
Once we were a good ways inside the tunnel and I knew no one could see us, I reached into my back pocket, curled my pinkie around that ring I’d been in possession of for more than half a year, and pulled it free.
“Something’s come up. That’s what going on. Something I need to tell you.” I got down on one knee and then one more. I wasn’t just prepared to ask for this woman’s hand in marriage—I was prepared to beg.
“Oh my God.” Her eyes went wide, worry spilling into her expression. “Are you okay? Your legs . . .” Her gaze drifted to where I was kneeling, as if my legs had just been chopped off at the knees. “I’m calling Dr. Murphy. Just don’t move. Try to hold still.” She dug around in her purse frantically, searching for her phone.
That I’d just gotten down on two knees in front of my girlfriend and she’d assumed it was because my spine was acting up instead of realizing the real reason told me she’d been expecting this about as much as I had when we’d woken up this morning.
“My legs are fine, Joze,” I assured her, curling my hand around hers still searching for her phone. “My back is too.”
“Then what’s the matter?”
I inhaled and held up the ring between us. “What’s the matter is that I’m afraid if I don’t ask you to marry me right this very moment, nothing will ever be fine again.”
“Oh my God, Garth,” she said again, although this time, she sounded totally different. “Is that what I think it is? Are you asking me what I think you are?” Her face lit up as she went from looking at me to the ring. All of the worry and anxiety melted from her expression, and right then, she looked like she’d never been happier than she was right now, trapped in this tunnel with me while I held her hand.
“I haven’t asked you anything yet.” I lifted a brow at her and twisted the ring so the diamond was facing her. “But I’m about to.”