That was like balm.
He understood. He got it. She hadn’t even had to say any of those dark, ugly things that rolled around inside of her chest. He just knew. He understood.
“Yeah. Well. That would be about the favorite revenge, I have to say. Especially because that version of revenge involves some pretty nice cowgirl boots.”
“If you win the overall prize barrel racing this year, I’ll buy you some boots.”
“I don’t need a man to buy my boots,” she said. “That’s the point.”
“I get that. But maybe it would be nice if there was a man who wanted to buy you boots?”
“Sorry. I don’t think that’s a very good goal either.”
“Why is that?”
“My mama raised me to be independent. At the end of the day, the only person you can depend on is...you.”
She felt sad for herself just saying it, and she waited for him to look at her with pity. But he didn’t. That was the interesting thing about him. He looked her straight in the eye. He looked at her like an equal.
He was a strange sort of man. Not exactly what she’d thought.
Though she was wary of him all the same.
“Can’t you depend on your mom?”
She hesitated. “Yes. Though she is also an independent woman, so she has her own life. We stand for each other, but we mostly stand alone.”
“I see.”
“You have a lot of family, don’t you?”
He nodded. “Yeah, I’m lousy with brothers.” He hesitated for a moment. “And you probably know my sister, Callie. She was barrel racing until pretty recently.”
She nodded. “Yeah, I do know her a bit. We’re close to the same age.”
He winced. “Right.”
“You must never be lonely.”
He chuckled. “I didn’t say that.”
“Oh.”
“I respect that you want to stand on your own feet,” he said, his tone switching abruptly. “But you can’t stop me from buying a pair of boots for you to stand in if you win.”
“I’d have to win,” she pointed out. “And I’m not number one right now. Or did you not notice?”
“I didn’t notice. I was too busy catching you when you tripped.”
He met her gaze for too long. She looked away.
“Okay. So tell me how to win.”
“You have to love nothing more than the moment you’re in. Think about nothing more. Care about nothing more. You didn’t ask me what my dreams were.”
“Okay then... What are your dreams?” she asked.
“I don’t have any.”
“Oh.”
“But that’s why I win. Because it’s very easy for nothing else to matter to me. Nothing but the moment. Nothing but the ride. Nothing else tugging on my attention. Nothing splintering my focus. There’s not a single damn person out there that I care about more than I care about that moment. Not a single thing. Not a truck, not a house. Nothing. That’s how I do it.”
“You don’t... You have a really big family...”
“Yeah. I mean... I love them. I do. But... I’m very good at putting a wall up over my emotions. In fact, I’m not entirely sure that I could get to them now if I wanted to.”
He said it so casually. But she had a feeling that it was true. A deep truth. And one that he probably didn’t go around speaking out loud. And he told her because...because they were able to talk to each other. Because it just worked.
If he wasn’t going to question it, then neither was she.
“I’m not sure that I can do that. I care about too many things. Sometimes I feel like I care about... Everything,” she said.
“You just have to learn to shut it off. Don’t burn so bright with passion that you let it smoke you out.” He snapped his finger. “You have to remember it can work for you. It can get you where you’re at right now. But don’t let it sabotage you either.”
“Thanks.”
She finished her beer. And the two of them stood.
