Her mouth curved and then trembled. “Am I?”
He nodded, a peculiar pang in his chest. “One in a million.”
*
Erika went to bed and dreamed sweet dreams. Billy had made her feel good last night, something remarkable considering their fight earlier. After she lost her cool, she usually hated herself for a long time, loathing her lack of control, loathing her inability to handle difficult situations. But Billy had been kind to her and comforting, as well. He’d managed to help salvage an evening that could have been disastrous. She was grateful. However, his insights into her were a little too accurate, and a little too unsettling, but since he didn’t seem to mind that she was flawed, then she was going to let go of everything and just try to move forward.
She certainly moved forward in her dreams. She dreamed that she and Billy were together—not necessarily a couple—but they were hanging out and things were fun and there was no Beck. It was just them and they were driving through mountains and everything was bright and glazed with sunshine. She was laughing at something he said and then somehow they were parked and he was kissing her, really kissing her and she was on his lap and she’d never been kissed like that before, where everything felt so good, and so warm, and so perfect.
She woke up still warm, and happy, feeling relaxed, as well as loved.
And then she realized she was in the dark motel room and that warm glowing buoyant feeling was from a dream. There was no wonderful drive through mountains, no gilded light, no wind in her hair, no kiss that made her feel like she was made of glitter and sunshine.
Her eyes burned and she pressed the pillow over her face, overwhelmed by a disappointment she didn’t understand.
*
Two hours later, Erika was changing Beck’s diaper when Billy texted.
“I’ll have a ticket for you at WILL CALL if you want to come today. I understand if you don’t. Either way, let’s go out to eat tonight. Craving a good steak.”
The wobbly sensation returned to her insides, and she felt a little glimmer of the sun she’d felt in her dream. It wasn’t a date tonight but it did sound fun to go out and have a meal somewhere besides her motel room.
She texted back an answer. “Beck and I will be in the stands cheering for you. Good luck!”
It was different arriving at the rodeo fairgrounds today. She felt as if she belonged there, and today, all the fans looked friendly and almost familiar. Erika found herself wishing she had a cowboy hat to wear, just so she could be part of the fun. But Beck’s dad would be competing, and so was his uncle. Despite Billy’s bad day yesterday, he’d still made it into the finals of a couple of his events, and Erika headed for her seat, determined to keep her distance from Billy today so he could concentrate and prepare for his first event.
Seated, she listened to the crowd chatter around her. Everyone was in a good mood. The weather was cooperating with sun and little wind. Erika had forgotten the baby carrier, so she just sat Beck on her lap, and he was happily eating his fist.
Yesterday she’d missed the opening ceremonies but today she saw it all, and then the first event was announced and Erika’s pulse drummed, aware that Tommy would be riding soon. Billy had told her last night that Tommy was having a great weekend, having placed in the finals in every single event he’d entered. She was excited that she’d have two Wyatts to cheer on today, and Tommy did have an excellent time in his first event. The other cowboys, though, didn’t look so lucky. Most were bucked off right and left, few making the eight second buzzer. The challenging rides continued through the early afternoon. It didn’t seem to matter if it was a horse or bull, but the rodeo clown and announcers made it all entertaining, and Erika was surprised she was enjoying herself so much.
Then finally it was Billy’s turn, and he came flying out of the narrow chute on the big chestnut horse, the bronc jumped and bucked, hind legs flying. It was simultaneously spectacular and thrilling as the horse and Billy went up, down, the horse kicking up back legs so high, he went down—all the way to the ground, the horse rolling over on Billy, with Billy still tangled in one stirrup. The crowd gasped and surged to their feet and Erika was on her feet, too.
As if in slow motion, she saw the bronc’s hooves connect with Billy, as they both tried to escape each other. Then the horse was free, still bucking and kicking. Billy struggled to get to his feet but crumpled back to the ground, dirt clouding around him. That was when the crowd went silent, and everyone stood in silence as medics ran out.
Gradually, everyone around her began sitting back down, and Erika slowly sat, too, heart in her throat. Seeing Billy on the ground sent panic through her.
Beck needed his dad.
She needed Beck’s dad.
Billy had to be okay.
Tommy was out there in the arena now, too, and Tommy and one of the medics assisted Billy to his feet, but Billy couldn’t straighten. He stood hunched, his torso bent, left arm hanging limply. He lifted his right hand to the crowd in an attempt to wave, as if reassuring the fans he was fine, but he would have fallen if it weren’t for Tommy holding him up.
Billy was half carried, half dragged from the ring, disappearing behind the tall gates that shut behind him, blocking the view.
The crowd was still quiet and the announcers in the high box began their cheerful chatter again, smoothing over the frightening scene, talking about what a cowboy Billy Wyatt was, that all of the Wyatts were true cowboys, and that the announcer had had the privilege of knowing Billy’s father, JC Wyatt, a legend in his time.
Erika tuned out the announcer and tried to think what she should do. Beck made a little peeping sound and she nodded. Beck was right. Find Billy. That was what she needed to do. With trembling hands, she gathered their things, shifted Beck to the other arm, and made her way through the stands, past the snack and food stands, to the pens where livestock waited. She knew now where the cowboys warmed up, and she went there, slipping between cowboys, heading toward an open ambulance that had someone on the gurney in back. She spotted Tommy then, standing near the ambulance talking to someone in a blue chambray shirt with a stethoscope around his neck. Tommy looked grim, nodding once, and then his head turned and his gaze met hers. He said something to the man and then walked toward her.
“He’s going to be okay,” Tommy said, without preamble. “They’re taking him to the hospital in town, and it’s serious, but doc doesn’t think it’s life-threatening. They’re leaving now, though, and they’ll call me later with updates.”
She looked up into his face, trying to read his expression. “You’re not going?”
“No.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Compete.”
She didn’t understand. The brothers were close, almost inseparable. “You’re still going to ride, even with Billy hurt?”
“He’s going to be in surgery. It will be hours. There’s nothing I can do until later.” Tommy must have seen her confusion, because he added, “This is our agreement. This is what we do. If it’s life-threatening, the other goes. If it’s just some broken bones, punctured lung—”
“Punctured lung?”
“We carry on. It’s the only way competing makes sense. Otherwise, we’d never get any wins, or money, under our belt.”