Page 19 of The Scars We Heal

“Go after Whitley, Ellie girl. We don’t need a hangry mama,” he added with a wink, earning himself an eyeroll and the middle finger.

“Birthday girl gets food first!” Colter handed Whitley a burger that was cut into perfectly sized quarters. I gave him a grateful look as I led her to the table with fruit kabobs shaped like wands and sides, adding small amounts of everything to her plate.

“Mommy, I don’t like macaroni salad. It’s ’gusting.” She pouted, glaring at her plate.

“You’ve never had it before, bug. How do you know you don’t like it?” I asked.

“I just know. It’s ’gusting. Bleh.”

“Ah, but macaroni salad is my favorite,” Jake’s voice rumbled behind us. “Can’t you try a little bit for your mom?” He made a show of taking a big bite of his salad and humming his approval, a sound that came out too much like a moan for my comfort.

“No.” Whitley wrinkled her nose.

“Didn’t you say you wanted to be big and tall like me, though?” He continued his attempts to sell the salad to my child.

Her eyes narrowed as though she was debating it in her head. “Hmph, fine.”

My eyes widened as Whit took a spoonful of the salad and shoved it in her mouth.

“It’s good, isn’t it?” Jake took another bite of his.

“It’s okay.”

Well, okay was better than ’gusting in my eyes, so I would consider it a win.

Thank you, I mouthed to Jake. Normally, it would have stung for her to listen to someone else and not me, but all I felt in this moment was gratitude and a little bit of relief.

Maybe asking for help wasn’t so bad.

CHAPTER EIGHT

jake

Ready?” I looked up at Colter and Reid from my spot behind the roping boxes.

The five of us frequently gathered at Reid’s place, because he had an arena we could practice in. Granted, a few practice runs often turned into hours spent drinking beers in the driveway and bullshitting with each other. Play hard after working hard, or whatever the saying is.

Reid’s chin dipped in response as Colter glanced over at him. Then Colter nodded, and I opened the chute, letting the steer run free. Dust flew in the air as Colter’s horse, Bullet, took off after the steer. His rope twirled in the air as he waited for the perfect moment to throw his loop.

Reid wasn’t far behind, and when Colter caught the steer’s horns and turned around the corner, he threw his own rope, catching the hind legs with ease.

“Six-point-three, boys!” Mikey called out after pressing the button on his stopwatch. The time probably wasn’t accurate. It seemed a bit slow, but that was what happened when you trusted Mikey to keep time.

“You sure that’s right?” Colter asked, a teasing glint in his eye. “Seems a bit slow.”

Mikey waved him off. “Shave off half a second and it’s probably fine. I’m a man, not a machine, Carson.”

Reid let out a snort, shaking his head, but the two of them let it go. “Anyone else up for a run or two?” he asked as he circled his horse around. “Hayden? Jake?”

“Sure, why the hell not.” I stood, brushing the dust off my pants. “Wouldn’t hurt to get in a little practice before the rodeo in Goldfinch in a couple weeks.”

“That’s the spirit.” Reid clasped his hands together in approval. “Who do you wanna ride today?”

I didn’t have a horse of my own, so Reid, Colter, and I usually shared when we practiced. Occasionally, I’d borrow one of their horses at events, too, or another competitor who I was close with would let me run theirs.

While Colter, Reid, and Hayden were team ropers, I was a tie-down roper, so the event was a little different. Instead of having a partner, I roped solo, and rather than a steer, the animal I roped was a calf.

“I’ll just run Bullet since you tied up your horse,” I told Reid as Colter rode Bullet over to the fence line.