A Thousand Tomorrows & Just Beyond the Clouds Omnibus (11 page)

“There’s more.” Her shoulders dropped a notch. “The other cowboy said, ‘You know what happened to Cody, right?’ And the first guy nodded and said, ’Ali Daniels, that’s what happened to him.’ ”

She blinked, searching her mind’s list of possible replies.

“I’m with you all the time in the arena, Ali. Ever since that first night when you and Cody talked, I’ve watched you and seen nothing. Absolutely nothing between you.” She turned her hands palms up. “Have I missed something? Are you dating that boy behind my back?”

Her secret meetings with Cody were never supposed to be anything but temporary, small chances for a friendship that had made the entire last half of the season her best days of all. From the first she’d looked for a way to tell her mother about her time with Cody.

Now she was getting her chance. She cleared her throat. “We’re not dating, obviously. You’d know if I was.”

“Then what? Why would they say that?”

“Because…” The vest made it harder to talk in whole sentences. She didn’t want Cody to come between them. She closed her eyes tight and then opened them, her tone flat. “Because sometimes Cody comes by our trailer at night.”

It took a minute for Ali’s words to sink in. “What?” Her mother’s voice was tight, disbelieving. “After I’m asleep?”

“Yes.” Ali winced. Sometimes she had to remind herself. The vest wasn’t squeezing the life out of her; it was pressing life back into her. “Yes, after you’re asleep he comes by and we… we sit outside in the folding chairs.”

Her mother’s expression was a study in control. Shock and surprise added to the fine lines around her eyes. She wasn’t angry. Hurt, maybe, but not angry. For a while the only sound between them was the steady rhythmic whirring of the vest as it worked on her lungs. What was she thinking? Was she disappointed, frustrated? Was she ready to take the two of them home for good?

Finally Ali couldn’t handle another minute. “Mama? Say something.”

Her mother leaned her elbows on the arms of the chair and looked at Ali. “Do you love him?”

The question made Ali hesitate, and that hesitation terrified her more than anything her mother could’ve said or done. Did she love him? Of course not, right? The idea was absurd, falling in love with a reckless bull rider like Cody Gunner.

But then why did she hesitate?

Ali ran her tongue over her lower lip. “No, Mama, it’s not like that. He’s my friend; nothing more.”

Her mother’s words were calm, deliberate. “Then why hide your visits? Did you think I wouldn’t approve?”

“Do you?” Ali’s answer was sharper than she intended. Her heart melted and she felt her expression soften. “I kept thinking about what you said. Heaven forbid it be someone like Cody Gunner. I didn’t think you’d want me talking to him.”

Her mother drew a slow breath, her eyes searching Ali’s. “How much have you told him?”

If she was going to be honest, she couldn’t stop now. “Everything. He knows about my CF.”

“Well…” her mother slid back in her chair. She turned it so she was facing the opposite window. “It’ll be all over the tour by January, if it’s not already out there. If that’s what you want, then I guess it’s okay if—”

“Mama!” Ali was supposed to relax when the vest was on, work with the compressions so they were more effective. But she was too upset to relax. She flipped the switch and the machine fell silent. “Turn around and look at me. Please!”

Her mother spun around. “Don’t use that tone with me,
young lady. Cody Gunner’s reputation precedes him. In the arena and out. He’s not your type, not our type.”

“Be quiet, Mama.” Ali’s voice rang with passion. “You don’t know him. He won’t tell a soul about my CF.” She pressed her hand against her chest. “He’d do anything for me. Anything at all.”

Her mother’s mouth hung open. “Dear me.” The words were the slightest whisper. “You’re in love with him and you don’t even know it.”

“I’m not in love with him. He’s my friend. The first friend I’ve had since I started riding professionally.” Ali’s throat was tight, her lungs heavier than usual. “Can’t I have that, Mama? One single friend?”

For years, her mother had been forced to hold back her opinions, forced to let Ali make her own decisions about the way she spent her time. Even when those decisions might take years off her life. Now, Ali could see the same struggle playing out. Her mother didn’t want Cody Gunner around any more than she wanted Ali on a horse.

She crossed the small space between them and knelt at Ali’s feet. With gentle movements, while her eyes filled with tears, she put her hand on top of Ali’s knee. “I’m sorry, honey. I never meant to upset you.”

Ali put her arms around her mother’s neck. “I don’t love him, Mama. I promise.” Tears filled her own eyes, because it wasn’t fair. She was twenty years old and she wouldn’t see thirty. Tears because her mother had given so much, and now she was afraid Ali would somehow share what was left of her time with Cody Gunner.

“It’s your life, Ali.” She whispered the words against Ali’s cheek. “I promised you a long time ago—I won’t tell you how to live it.”

There it was. The bottom line, the thing her mother always said whenever they had these discussions. After Anna’s death, when the idea of horseback riding seemed suicidal, time and again when Dr. Cleary insisted that barrel racing would cut years off her life, and now—when Ali wanted the green light for a friendship with Cody Gunner.

Ali closed her eyes and a stream of hot tears spilled onto her cheeks. Her mother’s words ran through her mind again.
It’s your life, Ali… I won’t tell you how to live it
. Exactly what she needed to hear.

“It’s okay, honey.” Her mother took her hand and squeezed it three times. Their silent way of saying the three most important words of all,
I love you
. “It’s okay.”

She sniffed and blinked her eyes open. “Can I have him come earlier tonight? Before you go to bed.”

“Yes.” Her mother reached out and dried her cheeks. “I’d like that.”

Ali took second that night, putting her in position to make a run for the championship. She had only a minute to pull Cody aside and tell him about the conversation with his mother.

“She must hate me for keeping you out late.”

“No.” Ali shook her head. “Give her a chance. She’s on our side, Cody. Really. Come by early tonight; you’ll see.”

At 10:30 he knocked on their trailer door, and Ali let her mother answer it.

“Cody.” Her mother hesitated, but her voice was warm. “Come in.”

From the back of the table where she sat, Ali felt herself relax. Everything was going to be fine, once her mother got to know him.

“Yes, ma’am.” Cody’s voice rang with cowboy respect. “Thank you.”

Ali’s mother stepped back and gestured toward the small table where Ali was sitting. “How’d you ride tonight, Cody?”

“I took third, ma’am. The bull could’ve been better.”

“We’ll be pulling for a better draw tomorrow.” She gave him a smile that eased the tension. “Iced tea?”

“Yes, ma’am, that’d be nice.” Cody shot a nervous glance at Ali. “I appreciate you having me.”

Ali’s mother was at the small refrigerator, pouring three glasses of tea. “Well…” She looked at him over her shoulder. “It’s about time you saw the inside of our trailer.”

The silence was interrupted by Ali’s giggles, and not long after, her mother and Cody joined in. After that, the ice was broken. Their evening visits continued to be early every night that week, and always, sometime around eleven, Ali’s mother would turn in. Ali would get into her sweatshirt, and she and Cody would find their familiar places in the chairs outside.

Over the next few days, most of their talk was about the competition. Cody held a strong second place, but Ali was frustrated with her times. She wasn’t riding as fast as before, and she didn’t know why. Her times had her sitting at fourth
overall, but she would need a few first-place finishes in the remainder of the races if she were to have a chance at the championship.

“You’re still holding your breath?” Cody was sitting beside her, closer than when they first started meeting together.

“Definitely.” She frowned and stared straight ahead. “I do the ride in my mind a hundred times a day; I can’t figure out how to catch that extra step.”

“Hmmm.” Cody stretched his legs out and folded his hands behind his head, the way she was familiar with now. A grin started in his eyes and made its way down to his mouth. “Someone once told me the secret was anticipation.” He bumped her arm with his elbow. “Sound familiar?”

She chuckled, careful to be quiet. “Must’ve been someone smart.”

“Yes.” He tapped her head, letting his fingers run along her hair for a few seconds. “And did I mention focus. She thinks focus helps, too.”

“Ah, yes. Focus.” Ali did an exaggerated frown. Focus had been easier before, back when her mind didn’t share time between racing and thinking about her conversations with Cody Gunner.

At most rodeos they talked for a few hours a weekend. At this one, they were together that long every night. By the sixth day, she met him outside the arena.

“You’re right.” She anchored her hands on her hips and squinted at him. The sky was bright blue, the December day as sunny as any in July.

“Right about what?” He smiled at her, studying her.

“About my focus; it isn’t there.” She shifted her weight, hoping he wouldn’t take this wrong. He needed to understand. “Let’s take a few nights off, turn in early. We can talk when it’s over. Maybe that’ll help me concentrate.”

“I’m a distraction, huh?” He gave a light laugh, but disappointment colored his eyes. He kept his tone upbeat. “Sure, Ali. Whatever helps.”

“You understand, right?” She felt funny trying to explain herself. Neither of them owed the other anything. “This championship means… well, it means everything to me. I’ve waited all my life for it.”

The next four rides were the best either of them had all season. Still, the competition was tough. Ali was in third heading into the final round, Cody a few points shy of first. He was the defending champion, but for him it would come down to the draw.

Minutes before her race, Ali climbed onto Ace and ran her fingers over his coarse blond mane. She spoke to him, low and gentle near his ears, the way she always did before a ride. “Atta boy, Ace. It’s all yours tonight. All yours.”

A million thoughts fought for her attention. Anna sitting by the window looking out at the neighbor’s farm.
I wanna race through the forever hay fields and play hide-and-seek out by the tallest pine trees, and jump on that palomino horse next door
. And her mother agreeing finally to let her have the baby foal.
It’s your life, Ali. I won’t stop you… won’t stop you
. And Cody Gunner with those crazy blue eyes wanting to talk to her.
Just once, Ali. Tell me why you do it; why do you ride so sick?

She cleared her mind.

People in her position talked often about sacrifice, all they’d given up to get where they were. For Ali, of course, the sacrifice was something more than a missed childhood or the cost of spending hours a day on the back of a horse. The sacrifice would come later—in the years of life she would lose for her decision to ride.

From the first time she watched a rider race around barrels she’d believed she was better, faster. That one day the championship would belong to her. And now here she was, minutes away from taking it, owning it. This would be the fastest ride of her life; she could feel it in her bones, in the center of her being.

It was her turn to take her mark.

Like always, Ace was spirited, desperate for the go-ahead, the chance to tear out of the tunnel around the course he loved. He nodded and pranced sideways. “This is it, Ace,” she whispered. “Faster. Faster and stronger.”

She sucked in a full breath and held it just as they tore down the tunnel and into the arena. The two of them flew around the first barrel, cleaner, faster than ever, and Ali knew it was happening. The thing she’d dreamed of since she was eleven years old was happening here and now, and no one could stop them.

Ace pushed himself, his hooves barely making contact with the soft dirt as he rounded the second barrel.
One more, just one more
. Ali pressed into him, willing him to move. They were almost around the third barrel when it happened. Ace’s foot caught the barrel’s edge.

“No!” Ali screamed, and as she did she sucked in a
mouthful of dusty air. She lunged toward the barrel, desperate to keep it upright. But it was too late.

In the corner of her eye she watched the barrel crash onto its side, taking with it her only chance at the title. A spilled barrel was something Ali rarely dealt with; certainly never in a National Finals Rodeo. The mistake meant a five-second penalty, and a score that wouldn’t be in the top six for the round.

She couldn’t feel Ace beneath her as she raced into the tunnel. It was all a nightmare, right? She was dreaming, and any minute she’d wake up and it would be time to go to the arena. Her eyes closed before she came to a stop.
No… no, that didn’t happen. It can’t end this way
.

That’s when she realized something else was wrong. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t draw a breath. Never mind the race or the lost championship, suddenly she couldn’t think about anything but drawing in oxygen, meeting her body’s desperate need for air. She must have taken in too much dust when she took a breath out on the course, and now she couldn’t stop coughing.

She dismounted and grabbed her water bottle. Her knees were weak, and it took all her energy to stay on her feet. Dark spots danced in her eyes and she held on to Ace, coughing with no relief, certain she was about to faint and not sure if it was because her heart was breaking or because she couldn’t quench the burning in her lungs.

She sucked in a long swig of water and forced herself not to draw a breath.
Calm, Ali. Be calm
. The coughing wouldn’t let up, and she sprayed the mouthful of water across the floor.
This had happened one other time, and the doctor had told her above all not to panic.

But even Ace was nervous, whinnying and giving her anxious glances.