Page 93 of Homebound

KEEP THOSE BOOTS ON

DAKOTA

Wyatt’s late.

That man’s always ten minutes early. He’s more reliable than my Flo app, so something must be wrong. But in a petty twist of fate, Boone’s competing, so unfortunately, he’s by my side while I pace the Tejas rodeo grounds, waiting for them.

“Have you seen Wyatt?” I grunt at Boone, my eyes darting across the crowded stands, searching for any sign of my family here at the rodeo. “Or my Dad? Or Lana? They should be here by now.”

“No, I haven’t,” he replies, tugging me to a stop by the sheep pens.

I’ve been trying to avoid him, still vacillating over whether I actually want to hear him out, but our paths keep crossing in this dusty rodeo maze of corrals and trailers. His navy eyes, shadowed by the brim of his straw Stetson, search my face as if trying to read my thoughts.

“Can we talk now?” he murmurs over the jingle of spurs. “I still need to get my jacket back from you. I had to borrow someone else’s.”

“No,” I hiss, yanking my arm out of his grasp. “We’re not talking right now, or ever. I have to concentrate.”

He holds up his hands. “Okay, I get it. How about we do dinner? I’ve missed you. Next week or—”

My phone vibrates, cutting him off mid-sentence, and I’m grateful for the interruption. I quickly dig into my pocket, pulling it out to see Wyatt’s name flashing on the screen, and lift it to my cheek. “Hey, where are you? I was—”

“Our tire blew out,” he shouts, and I jerk, startled by the panic in those few words.

I’ve never heard Wyatt sound so stressed. It takes a lot to get him riled up, and by a lot, I mean a category-five hurricane striking during a nuclear explosion.

“Okay, back up. What happened?” I hammer out, stomping away from Boone to find a private hay barrel by the goats. “Are you okay? Is Vi okay?”

My little devil better be okay.

“No, I’m not.” He pants, sounding out of breath like he’s pacing. “The truck got a flat, so we’re all stranded on some backcountry road, waiting for a tow to come pick us up since we don’t have a spare, and now the babysitter just called me freaking the fuck out because she invited her lame fucking boyfriend over to ‘watch a movie,’ and like a fuckwit, he invited his even lamer friends, and now the babysitter’s panicking because our barn’s turning into a fucking rager, and she can’t get them to leave. I’m worried as fuck about Vi, but I can’t go get her because I’m fucking stuck, and I should’ve vetted the babysitter more. Fuck! This is all my fault.”

I don’t think I’ve ever heard him say fuck so many times in one paragraph, so I try to keep my voice soothing.

“Wyatt, it’s not your fault. You did vet the babysitter. Your mom got a recommendation from someone in town,” I reassure him, even though I’m feeling just as worried over Vienna, but one of us has to stay calm.

“And I can go check on her,” I offer.

He pauses. “No, you can’t. You’ve got the rodeo.”

Wyatt has been doing so much for me this summer, helping me train, that I want to be there for him. Not to mention the thought of something bad happening to Vi is actually making me a little murderous.

I’ll get another chance to impress the scout.

Wyatt and Vi are more important.

“Let me do this for you,” I say. “You do so much for everyone else that I want to help.”

“Are you sure?” he says, and the relief in his tone is palpable. I can practically hear his shoulders falling.

“Yeah, I’m sure. I think I’d do anything for you and Vi at this point,” I admit honestly, heading to the parking lot. “I’m already getting in Daisy Blue. Want me to pick you up?”

He pauses again, longer this time, like he’s thinking. “No, we took the backroads here, so we’re out of the way. You’re closer. I’ll feel better knowing you’re at home with her. Thank you, Dakota,” he breathes, his voice finally easing for the first time since he picked up the call.

“Of course, I’ll be back at the barn in thirty minutes.”

“You have no idea how much this means to me,” he murmurs again before hanging up.

“Anything for you, summer boy,” I whisper into the sunset air, not that he can hear.