“But it is.” Bill slunk down in the kitchen chair and put his hands on his face.
“No, it isn’t. My darling, sweet, wonderful husband, it isn’t.”
“If somethin’ happens to him…”
“I agree. If something happens to Billy, I don’t know how I’ll go on, but I will. And even if you forbid him to ride another bronc, something still might happen to him. He could be in a car accident tomorrow and get hurt much worse than if he bucks off of a horse.”
“I know that, but…”
“Bill, look at me.” He looked into Dottie’s eyes. “It brings him such joy. Don’t take it away from him. God gave him to us, but that doesn’t mean we own him. He’s our son, to raise up to be the best man he can be. Let him do this, Bill. Let him for me.”
23
It took Lyric until the last day of the NFR, but she did it. She was on her way to the airport to bring the woman who accused Bullet of fathering her child to the competition tonight. In the end it was King who came up with the idea. It took going back to Colorado Springs, but he’d figured it out. Lyric would be picking him up at the airport too; he was the one bringing her here.
She called Tristan earlier, to tell her. She hadn’t told Bullet yet, and asked Tristan not to either. Tristan did have a job to do, though. She had to get Harris Jones to the Thomas and Mack Center tonight, at the same time Lyric arrived.
“This is Ashleigh,” King introduced Lyric. “She’s the one we met at the bar, you know, that night.”
Ashleigh was quiet, but Lyric didn’t expect her to be any other way. “Let’s go see him, then. If Bullet is your baby’s daddy, you two are gonna need to spend some time gettin’ to know each other.”
The girl’s cheeks turned pink, as Lyric expected them to. It must be awful to be getting ready to “meet” a man you already had sex with.
“I tried to call him…”
“Yeah? He gave you his number that night?” That surprised Lyric. Bullet would be more apt to take her number, and never call, rather than give his number out.
“Not the right one.”
That didn’t sound like Bullet either. He may have slept around, but he was usually upfront about not wanting to see someone again. It wouldn’t be like him to give a girl a wrong phone number intentionally either. But Harris Jones wouldn’t know that.
“Almost there.” Lyric patted Ashleigh’s hand. They sat in the back seat of the cab, King sat in the front with the driver.
As was prearranged, Bullet was out front, waiting for Tristan to arrive. She was already inside, though. She wasn’t supposed to arrive at the same time they were.
“Here we are,” said Lyric, climbing out of the cab. Ashleigh followed behind, got out, and stood on the sidewalk, waiting as King paid the driver. Thankfully, Bullet was looking at his phone and hadn’t noticed them pull up.
When he raised his head and looked at Lyric, she shook her head and put her finger in front of her mouth.
“Okay, you ready to go find my brother?” she asked Ashleigh.
“Yes,” she answered softly and walked right past where Bullet stood. When Ashleigh looked at him, Lyric watched. No recognition. As they passed, King motioned for Bullet to follow.
It took a minute for Lyric’s eyes to adjust from the bright outdoors to the more subdued lighting in the convention center. When they did, she spotted Tristan talking with Harris, near the box office.
“We’ll have to pick up your pass at will call,” Lyric told Ashleigh. “And you’ll have to show your identification.”
Lyric walked slowly, so Ashleigh was beside her. She watched the girl as she looked around. When she spotted Harris, she stopped and put her hand on Lyric’s arm.
“There he is,” she said.
“There who is?”
Ashleigh’s expression was puzzled. She looked at Lyric. “Your brother.”
“Where?” Lyric asked.
“Right there, don’t you see him?” Ashleigh was pointing at Harris, who at that moment, turned away from Tristan and looked at Ashleigh.