“You made a joke.” She chuckled. “Funny.”
Inside the house was simple but comfortable. A leather sofa sat on a rug, worn in soft places. An extra-large TV sat against the far wall as Wyatt’s hand slipped against the small of her back. “Make sure you don’t adjust the blinds.” He pointed. “They are angled so no one can see silhouettes at night.”
She set her bag down. It seemed strange when everything finally caught up to her, the fire, the threats, and the sudden shift from researcher to someone who needed protection.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“You don’t look okay.”
She laughed softly. “That’s because I’m thinking about how quickly my life pivoted.”
He paused as he grabbed a glass out of the cupboard and filled it with water. Walking over, he presented it to her as he sat down at the kitchen island. “It won’t pivot again without you knowing.”
She exhaled and dropped onto the side of the sofa. “You’ve done this before.”
“Protection?”
“No,” she whispered. “Relocation.”
His jaw flexed. “Yeah.”
Letty waited as the silence stretched. She walked to the counter and palmed the coin he had set down with his wallet. “What’s it remind you of?”
He set his forehead against his hand, bent against the counter and sighed. “I grew up outside Flagstaff… Arizona.”
She nodded. “Go on.”
“Rodeo circuit family.” He chuckled. “Junior champion. Roping. Bronc riding.”
So, the rope burn was just a small part of his rodeo life.
“My father,” he continued, “… always pushed.”
Her chest tightened. “Based on what you said, he pushed you hard.”
“Hard enough that winning didn’t feel like winning.”
I’ve spent years studying the aftermath of disasters, but listening to him, I know his damage hasn’t come from storms or fire. It came from people, like my mother. She studied him as her mind recalled the bio she’d read about him, provided by Cal. “What happened?”
“I was sixteen. Broke my arm in a regional final. I couldn’t grip.” His expression didn’t change. “He told me to tape it and ride anyway.”
Her stomach twisted. “You did?”
He bobbed his head once. “For one round.”
She waited, studying him. “And?”
“I hit the dirt hard.” He took a breath and blew it out. “I realized after I caught my breath in the dirt that I wasn’t afraid of the pain or being trampled by the horse.” He paused. “I was afraid of becoming him.”
Her breath slowed. “That’s why you enlisted?”
“Yes. It took me a few years to find the courage to do it.”
She chewed her bottom lip. “Just like that?”
“No, not just like that. I competed in the National High School Finals Rodeo and won. I enlisted when we got back to town.”
