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TJ thought that, in another life, he would have liked that too. But just then, with a bright-pink hat on his head, he didn’t feel the gaping hole he’d expected, knowing that he’d certainly never run a barrel pattern again. ‘You didn’t let him down. You gave each other your best, and that’s all you can ever do.’
As if the universe wanted to affirm his point, another rider walked past on her horse and, seeing Skye, said, ‘Damn, girl, you two were hauling ass! Good run!’
Skye blushed. She raised a hand to wave, said, ‘Thanks.’
Once the rider had moved past, TJ asked, ‘Ready to head back, check on Smokey?’
‘Yes.’
They fell into step, Kai on TJ’s one side, Skye on the other. As they walked to the trailer, Skye linked her fingers with his unprompted. She let her head fall to his shoulder, said, ‘I really like that hat on you, TJ.’
‘Thanks. I’m thinking I’ll keep it.’
‘That so?’
‘Oh yeah.’ He squeezed her hand. ‘I like the way she looks on me.’
When Skye peered up at him and asked, ‘How are you feeling?’ TJ didn’t get angry as he would have only a week before.
He rolled his neck gently, testing out his pain level. ‘I’m down to a five right now,’ he said.
‘I’ll stretch you out once the animals are settled in for the night.’
TJ didn’t argue. There’d be no point. Skye was as ruthless about his physical therapy schedule as she was about her own barrel racing one. So, he just shrugged.
Skye tied Kai to the side of the trailer so that she could untack him, and when TJ moved to help by uncinching the saddle, she hip-checked him out of the way. ‘I’ve got it. Why don’t you heat the truck up?’
TJ wasn’t even annoyed. He moved behind her, wrapped his arms around her waist, leaned down, and gently bit her neck. ‘You’re so bossy.’
‘You like it,’ she shot back, and when he didn’t move, just kept working his lips over the soft column of her throat, she pressed her ass back into him, asked, ‘You sure you wanna start this here, cowboy?’
TJ actually looked up to check who was around, making Skye laugh. But when he saw the flood of contestants and animals going about their business, he sighed. ‘I’ll drive,’ he said, because he knew he’d get back to the fairgrounds faster.
Skye rolled her eyes playfully.
He let her go and walked around the driver’s side of the truck.
He stopped. His heart slammed hard against his ribs. His blood iced in his veins. Because there, placed on the windshield, was a single black rose with frost-tipped petals.
TJ picked it up, careful to avoid the sharp thorns. The rose was fresh. It was perfect, the bloom half-open but fat, the colour rich black with red undertones. And it was a clear threat.
A single note had been tied to the stem with black ribbon. TJ opened it, read the florist’s typed letter:
Skye,
Good luck with your barrel race today. I was sad to hear about Smoking Barrel’s passing; however, I trust that your replacement will work out for you temporarily. Try to remember to wear a riding helmet. I would hate if something completely avoidable happened to you.
Only a few weeks until your birthday. Your mother and I will make a point to visit.
Love,
Dad
TJ exhaled tightly. The chill in his veins warmed as rage filled him. The letter wasn’t just a warning. It was a taunt. Look how much I know. You can’t hide from me. I’m coming for you.
Well, not if TJ had anything to say about it.
He momentarily considered destroying the rose, maybe tearing the letter into a dozen little pieces. But he didn’t for one reason: Skye needed to understand that Holden was escalating, and hiding the threats wasn’t going to keep her sharp.
