Page 33 of Before You Can Blink (Rust Canyon #4)

Jett

July

“Daddy!” The excited cry had me whipping around. It had been months since I’d heard that voice in person instead of over the phone.

A flash of wild red hair caught my eye as Aspen raced toward me. Gone was the little girl I left behind in Rust Canyon back in April, and in her place was a preteen I barely recognized.

How in the world had that happened?

Digging my heels into the dirt, I braced for impact.

My daughter didn’t hesitate. She jumped right into my arms, and I lifted her off the ground, the same as I’d done almost every day for the past eleven years. When she released her hold around my neck, I hefted her weight higher with a grunt.

“Either I’m getting too old for this or you’re getting too big,” I remarked .

A wide grin split her face, and her blue eyes sparkled. “Notice anything different about me?”

She’d grown up so much in the short time we’d spent apart, so my first instinct was to reply that everything about her seemed different, but the way she phrased her question made it clear she was fishing for me to notice a specific change.

Motion in my periphery had my gaze sliding away from Aspen to find that the rest of my family, including Bex, had joined us. Daisy subtly tugged on her earlobe and widened her eyes, giving me the clue I needed.

A quick peek confirmed that my daughter’s ears now featured gold stud earrings.

I tossed a wink at my wife for the assist. “You got your ears pierced.”

Aspen nodded enthusiastically. “And it barely hurt!”

Setting her down, I asked, “What was the occasion?” Daisy wasn’t one to spoil the kids, so there had to be a good reason for her to treat Aspen.

Chest puffing with pride, she announced, “Straight A’s for the whole year.”

“That’s my girl.” I held my hand up for a high-five, and she smacked her palm against mine. “So smart, just like your mama.”

Turning my attention to the rest of the crew, I greeted Bex with a squeeze on her shoulder before addressing Tripp. “Everything ship shape back at home?”

My son gave a slight nod. “Yes, sir.”

“Glad to hear it.”

Stepping past the kids, I curled an arm around Daisy’s waist. “Missed you.” I ducked my head to taste her lips for the first time in what felt like forever, and finally, I could breathe again.

My wife placed a hand to my chest. “Missing’s over now that we’re here.”

Forehead resting against hers, I sighed. “ Thank God for that.”

“Fine-looking crew you’ve got there, Sullivan,” a familiar voice called out from behind me.

Daisy let out a little squeal, pulling out of my arms and rushing into Layla’s. Locked in an embrace, the two of them swayed from side to side.

With how Murph had passed, you’d have thought Layla wouldn’t be able to get away from the rodeo circuit fast enough.

But instead, she declared that makeshift fairground arenas were where she felt closest to him, and she continued to manage a group of up-and-coming bronc riders.

She poured her heart and soul into the sport her late husband had loved, and I had to believe that if there was a Heaven, Murph was up there watching, proud as hell that she was carrying on his legacy.

When the women finally broke apart, Layla surveyed the three kids.

“All right. I know at least one of these little rascals.” She tugged on a strand of Aspen’s copper hair.

“Though, I’ll admit it’s been a while. She was a baby the last time I saw her.

” Her gaze roved over Bex and Tripp. “Don’t remember you having twins, though. ”

I barked out a laugh. Bex was petite while Tripp was tall for his age, so they stood at about the same height. I could see how Layla might confuse them for being twins.

“That’s because we didn’t. This here’s Bex, Aspen’s friend, who decided to come on a little rodeo adventure this summer to see what all the fuss is about.” My hand came down on my son’s shoulder. “And this is Tripp.”

Layla’s breathing audibly hitched. We’d kept in touch, but she had never met Murph’s namesake in person.

Tears filled her green eyes, and Layla crouched down, extending a hand to my boy. “It’s so very nice to meet you, Tripp.”

Since our old friend was practically a stranger to him, my son peeked up at me, unsure .

“Tripp,” I prompted, jerking my chin toward Layla’s hand. He remembered his manners, shaking her hand as I introduced her. “This is Layla. She used to be married to an old rodeo buddy of mine. She’s also Penny’s aunt.”

That perked him right up. “My Penny?”

Layla huffed, making a show of jealousy. “See, now here I was thinking she was my Penny.”

The two of them went back and forth on it until Layla finally conceded that since Tripp saw her every day, he could claim her as his, just so long as he kept a good eye on her. With a serious face, my son gave a firm nod, vowing that he would always take care of Penny.

Layla rose to her full height, her voice growing hoarse. “He might have Murph’s name, but he’s a mini Jett.”

Chuckling, I joked, “Don’t go tellin’ him that. He goes out of his way to be the opposite of me.”

“Bet that drives you up the wall, doesn’t it?”

My eyes lifted to the sky, and I blew out a heavy breath. “You have no idea.”

She didn’t bother to conceal her amusement. “I love it. Consider it karma, evening the score from your hell-raising days.”

“Hey!” I protested. “I wasn’t that bad.”

“You were the biggest pain in my ass. Don’t bother pretending otherwise.”

“Yeah, yeah.” I pulled her in for a hug. “It’s good to see you.”

“You too.” She squeezed me tighter before pulling away. “All right. Best I get back to work. Those young rascals I manage can’t be left to their own devices for too long.” Stepping backward, she retreated with a salute. “Enjoy the show, Sullivans.”

“Don’t be a stranger,” Daisy called to her back .

Layla blew my wife a kiss over her shoulder. “Don’t ask me to make promises I can’t keep.”

She didn’t visit Rust Canyon or the Livingston Ranch. Not since she lost Murph. You’d think she’d want to reconnect with her sister and her niece, but I suppose the memories were too painful. Having lost people I’d loved, I could respect that we all grieved in different ways.

If all we got were passing moments when we happened to attend the same rodeos, that would have to be enough.

The arena lights were nearly blinding, but they didn’t come close to the brilliant stars shining in my daughter’s eyes as she watched the barrel racing competition.

“Did you see how tight they took those turns?” she yelled to Bex beside her.

My daughter’s best friend stared at the display with her mouth hanging open. “Uh-huh.”

“I’m gonna do that when I grow up,” Aspen declared with confidence.

“Like hell you are!” No daughter of mine was going to be slumming it on the rodeo circuit, chasing buckles while the bull and bronc riders chased her.

But I had no clue how to explain that to the eleven-year-old staring at me, glassy-eyed, her lower lip trembling because I rarely raised my voice at her.

“Uh,” Daisy began to cover for me. “I think what your daddy is trying to say is that competing in rodeos is a rough way to make a living. You only get paid when you win, and you’ve played enough games to know you can’t win every time.”

Aspen’s forehead wrinkled. “Is that why Daddy quit?”

My wife and I shared a look over our daughter’s head.

Clearing my throat, I explained, “No, sweetheart. I quit because I got hurt one too many times, and the last injury was enough to make me realize that you and your mama were more important.”

“Oh.” I could see her turning that information over in her mind. Hopping down from her perch on the gate, she ran over to me and threw her arms around my waist. “I’m glad you’re safe now.”

I bent down to kiss the top of her head, murmuring thickly, “Me too, baby girl. Me too.”

This little girl didn’t know it, but she’d saved my life. Who knows if I would have ever given up competing if it hadn’t been for her. And if I hadn’t stopped when I did, I could’ve just as easily ended up in an early grave after a ride gone wrong, like Murph.

I would never stop thanking God for the gift of fatherhood—a gift I never wanted but He knew I needed.