33. For Pete’s Sake

Chapter 33

For Pete’s Sake

M aeve could only assume Tucker had lost his mind as she turned to address his challenge. She couldn’t help but tilt her head, raising an eyebrow at his sheer audacity. Before she could collect her response, Dallas stepped between them.

“Back in line, Tuck,” he warned.

“Or what?” Tucker sneered. “Your lady’s going to show me who’s boss?”

“She won’t,” Dallas’ voice dropped to a low growl, “but I might.”

Tucker hesitated, appearing to gauge just how much danger he was really in. “Aren’t you a pastor or something?”

“Or something,” Dallas replied, taking up the space in a way that made Tucker backpedal. “Don’t mess with my girl.”

Maeve leaned her elbows on the railing, not bothering to hide her satisfaction. Not only did it feel rewarding to have someone come to her defense, but it had been some time since she’d been referred to as someone’s girl .

“All right, you two — settle down,” Maeve finally intervened, grasping their attention. “Crew’s up next.”

Wholly distracted, she hadn’t noticed that Oakleigh was no longer beside her. She pushed off the railing, searching for the young woman on the crowded platform.

“Um, Maeve!” Oakleigh’s voice rose above the raucous sounds of the audience, and blaring music being pumped through the speakers. “Help!”

Maeve squeezed through the crowd around them, finally laying eyes on another brewing conflict.

Harper had Sam against the wall, and was pointing a sharp finger squarely in his face.

“What in the —” Maeve’s eyes went wide. Clearly, Oakleigh had done her best to mediate, but had little success against her mother’s hot temper.

Maeve calmly excused herself as she navigated through her colleagues gathered on the platform, letting each of them know she would be available to talk at some point in the evening. The eyes of the packed stadium were on them, and her only hope was to reach the situation without drawing more attention to the heated dispute.

Arriving at arms reach, she pulled Oakleigh to her side.

“Oakleigh, what’s going on?” she demanded.

“Oh, just the usual,” Oakleigh exclaimed, flinging a hand toward them. “He’s mad that the town was packed over the weekend, and for what I said about Stetson,” she listed. “and how Mom scared the bear onto his property. ”

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” Maeve sighed. “Harper!”

Harper had grabbed Sam by the collar and forced the sun-weathered, scowling man on his tip-toes.

“And don’t you ever,” Harper shouted, “And I mean ever, say anything like that about my daughter again, do you hear me?” She roughly yanked his collar again, lowering her voice to a dangerous tenor. “Or I’ll do to you exactly what I did to that bear, but this time — I’ll be sure not to miss.”

Maeve winced, pulling her fingers across her brow as she stepped between them. “All right,” she announced. Taking Harper by the shoulders, Maeve gently steered her away. “That’s enough now, I think he understands.”

“And that goes for my sister, too!” Harper flung over her shoulder.

Even though Maeve knew pacifying her grumpy neighbor would come at a hefty price, there was something healing in her sister’s sharp defense on her behalf. Walking back to her place beside Dallas, she could still hear Sam grumbling the same old insults she had heard for decades.

Feeling Harper pivot, Maeve stepped firmly in her path, pulling her along in the opposite direction.

“Nope,” Maeve insisted. “We’re all done fighting for the day.”

“I’m sick of that guy,” Harper muttered under her breath.

“Oh, trust me, you don’t know the half of it,” Maeve acknowledged, knowing if Harper knew the whole history of their challenges with Sam, it would lead to yet another heated exchange.

Oakleigh came beside them, giving Maeve an apologetic glance as she mouthed a quick —

“Sorry.”

Maeve shrugged, intertwining her arm with hers. “Let’s focus on Crew now,” she suggested. “I’ll deal with Sam later.”

She felt Dallas nudge her with his shoulder.

“How 'bout’ I take care of this one?”

“Would you, really?” Maeve sighed, relieved at the thought of one less fire to stomp out.

“You bet,” Dallas replied, leaning over and giving her a peck on the lips. “I’ve been trying to get that old grouch to church for a while now,” he chuckled. “Now’s as good a time as any to have a long talk.”

Maeve nuzzled into his soft shirt, pulling him in for one last kiss before he made his way across the platform.

“Although I’m incredibly supportive of this whole honeymoon, newlywed phase,” Oakleigh chimed in. “I’d just like to remind you that I’m still standing right here.”

Maeve exchanged a side-long glance with Dallas and a quick smile, giving his hand a squeeze before bringing her attention back to the arena.

Crew was below them in the chutes as they prepared Callaway Ranch’s star bull. The handsome cowboy adjusted his signature black cowboy hat, and stood with his hands on his hips as he listened to Sawyer bark a few last-minute strategies .

Maeve observed Big Slim’s bulky, muscular body nearly filling the entire chute. The bull’s glassy eyes brought to mind the vivid memory of Crew’s accident. She recalled the pounding of hooves, and the ominous clang of the bull’s horns against the iron fence as she assessed whether Crew was alive or dead.

She knew that Oakleigh was nervous, the young woman had every right to be. They had bred the beast to be a cowboy killer, and he had earned the reputation as the industry’s fiercest bull. In all his years of competition, Big Slim had yet to be ridden for a full eight seconds.

As Crew prepared to mount up, Big Slim was already bucking fiercely in the chute. Colton and Wade went to work, doing their best to steady the raging animal enough for Crew to settle in, and grip the rope. The moment the seat of his Wranglers touched the beast’s broad back, Big Slim bucked and twisted. Crew snatched the rails, leaping to safety before he could be bucked off in the dangerously tight quarters.

Maeve felt Oakleigh squeeze her arm tight.

“It’s going to be okay,” Maeve reassured again, finding she was also attempting to convince herself.

Harper slipped beside them. “What’s the big deal anyway?” she chimed, obnoxiously. “Isn’t he trained for this sort of thing?”

It was time to decide if Crew was going to ride or forfeit.

When it came to the boy she had practically raised, Maeve knew forfeiting was never an option .

Crew confidently swung his leg over the irate bull, and tightened his grip on the rope. Before Big Slim could react, he flung his hand in the air, and the gate swung open.

Big Slim launched violently into the arena. The beast’s hooves left the ground, his massive body furiously twisting and thrashing mercilessly.

Despite the abuse, Crew held strong.

Three seconds.

Big Slim kicked its hind legs, propelling Crew toward its horns.

Five seconds.

The beast pivoted sharply, causing Crew’s firm bicep to flex on the rope.

Seven seconds.

With one last leap, Big Slim contorted, pushing Crew’s strained grip to the limit. The rope slipped from his grasp, and he was sent high into the air, his legs and arms splayed like the night of the horrible accident.

Oakleigh’s eyes went wide as she turned away, burying her head in Maeve’s shoulder.

Maeve couldn’t look away, not for a second, as she watched him hit the ground with a sickening thud.

The crowd’s cheers turned to low gasps as the bull stomped and gored. The bullfighters put their best efforts into distracting the raging beast’s attention away from the lifeless cowboy. Big Slim had finally had enough with Crew, and made his way around the dirt arena. The bull chased anyone in its path, even throwing a sharp horn at the cameraman attempting to capture every harrowing moment. Finally, a cowboy on horseback rode out, swinging a rope high over his head. He caught the fierce animal around the horns, and led him back to the safety of the chutes.

The stadium fell silent.

Before the medic team rushed onto the dirt, Maeve and Oakleigh’s boots had already hit the metal staircase. Oakleigh arrived first, hitting her knees beside her injured cowboy. Maeve took Crew’s hand in hers while the medics worked.

The minutes ticked by before his bright blue eyes fluttered open, contrasting the purple bruises that were forming around them.

“Hey there, love,” he rasped, flashing his white grin that was noticeably now lacking a front tooth. “Did I do it?”

Oakleigh’s eyes filled with tears as she cried out in relief.

“Did you do what?”

“Eight seconds?” he asked, flipping his attention to Sawyer and Maeve.

Maeve looked to the judges huddled together, giving the footage of his ride a second glance.

With a thumbs up, Crew’s name flashed across the bright arena screens. The cheers rose as they replayed his successful ride from every angle.

“I can’t believe it,” Sawyer exclaimed. Pushing up the brim of his hat, he pulled his fingers across his brow .

Maeve’s proud smile traveled all the way to the corners of her eyes. “You did it, son,”

“I did?” Crew propped himself on his elbows with a groan. “I’m okay, help me up.”

The medics lifted the cowboy to his feet, and a roar of applause from his devoted fans echoed through the stadium.

“How bout we give it up for Crew Beckett,” the announcer called out through the speakers.

“I did it!” Crew shouted, bringing Oakleigh close, intending to plant a long kiss on her lips.

“Oh — love?” Oakleigh winced. Pulling away, she wrapped her arms tightly around his middle. “Not until we get this taken care of,” she said, gesturing to his battered face.

He grinned again, showing off his toothless smile.

“I love you,” she whispered. “And I’m so proud of you.”

Crew limped off the arena dirt with the Callaway Ranch team by his side.

Oakleigh slid up beside Maeve, whispering under her breath. “We’re getting that tooth situation fixed, right?”

Maeve smiled as she pulled out her phone, sending a quick text to their family dentist, who was always just a phone call away. “Already on it.”

Returning to the platform, Maeve found her place next to Dallas.

“He’s going to be okay?” Dallas asked, leaning into her shoulder .

“Oh yeah, he’ll be fine,” Maeve confirmed, letting out a burst of laughter as she considered. “But that knucklehead broke our streak.”

Sawyer came up the metal stairs, joining them on the platform. “Well, he’ll be sore for a while,” he chuckled, “but he’ll live.”

Maeve put her arm around her son’s shoulder. “You trained him well.”

“Thanks, Mom,” he replied with a glimmer of pride. He took a breath and steadied himself as though he were gathering his nerve.

Knowing Sawyer better than he knew himself, Maeve finally spoke up. “Something on your mind?”

“Now’s not the time,” he shrugged.

She gave him a long glance.

“Well,” he stumbled over the words, “you know I’m committed to the family and the business no matter what,” he said. “I know you need me — and I don’t want to let you down.”

“Spit it out, Sawyer,” she chuckled.

“I want her,” he announced. “I want to be with Bethany.”

She looked at her son there beside her. He was all grown up now from the timid and distant little boy she had adopted so long ago. She and Abel had worked hard to earn his trust, and nurture a bond that broke down his high walls. She loved being Sawyer’s mom, counting it as the most tremendous success of her life.

“What’s the Lord calling you to do? ”

“Mom—“ he sighed.

“I’m not a fragile little teacup,” she reassured. “You know you can always be honest with me.”

“I suppose,” he said, crossing his arms on the railing, “I’m a good coach.”

“You’re a great coach,” she affirmed.

“I could make a good living,” he stated. “And the rest of the year, well —“ He looked at her as if gauging her reaction.

“You’ll play worship at church,” Maeve answered for him. “And you’ll build a life with Bethany.” She nodded, considering.

“If that’s what the Lord is calling you to do,” she gave his arm a firm pat. “Then I want you to do just that.”

“You’re not mad?” he asked, lifting an eyebrow.

Maeve picked a little dirt from under her nails as she considered. “When you marry that girl,” she said, choosing her words carefully. “She’s your priority.”

She put an arm around her son.

“You don’t ever sit at a table where she’s not welcome, even mine.”

Sawyer took in her words, giving her a firm nudge with his elbow. “I know she’d always be welcome at your table.”

Maeve smiled.

“You’re right about that,” she paused, clearing the lump of emotion suddenly caught in her throat. “Your dad would be so proud of you, Sawyer — and so am I.”

His lip quivered at the unexpected acknowledgment, but the stern cowboy wouldn’t allow a tear to fall.

“Thanks, Mom.”

“You’re not going to worry a bit about me, or the ranch,” she ordered. “The Lord brought us Dallas.”

She hesitated.

“And as much as you’re going to hate me saying it,” she chuckled. “He brought me Oakleigh, too.”

Sawyer responded predictably with a deep eye roll as he muttered under his breath.

“She’s come a long way,” Maeve said. “And she’s got a vision for the ranch that reminds me of, well,” she smiled as she considered, “It reminds me of your dad — full of big ideas and zero practicality.”

“Dad at least had some sense,” Sawyer blustered. “She is the most —”

Receiving a subtle glance from Maeve, Sawyer conceded. “She’s come a long way,” he admitted, running his fingers down his mustache and over his short beard. “I’ll give her that,” he sighed. “You think she’s really up for the task?”

“Oh, I’ll have to hire a few more hands,” she acknowledged. “But I should have done that a long time ago.” She pressed her lips together, giving Sawyer a knowing glance.

“You’re irreplaceable, son — I hope you know that.”

Surrounded by Team Callaway, Maeve considered her blessings. She said a quick prayer of thankfulness as she looked around at the family the Lord had given her .

Putting her arm around Sawyer, she gave him a reassuring squeeze. “The Lord provided beyond what I could’ve ever imagined,” she said. “And he’ll do the same for you.”