Home > Round Up (Lost Creek Rodeo #1)(3)

Round Up (Lost Creek Rodeo #1)(3)
Author: Rebecca Connolly

The Original Six had been a name given to him and five other guys that had formed the first rodeo team at their university, a small agricultural school not far from Lost Creek, less than an hour away. Not only had they started it, but that first year, they had taken regionals, starting the tradition of star rodeo teams there. Lost Creek was now the home of that team, and the event was always a fun exhibition for current and former riders to take part in.

Ryan had done it every year.

Up until last year, anyway.

And this one, now that his career was over.

Would they come down? Did he want them to?

“I don’t know,” he said again, with a long swig of coffee. “But I could find out.”

 

 

“Thank you for calling Memories by Melanie. This is Talia, how may I help you?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I think I have the wrong number.”

“No problem, have a nice day.”

Talia pushed the call button on the side of her headset and stared at her computer screen with the same blankness with which she’d answered the phone. It was the fourth wrong number call she’d had today, which didn’t bother her all that much.

Less conversation.

Quicker return to quiet.

Less work to do.

Her job wasn’t horrible; she simply didn’t enjoy it. It wasn’t such a crime to feel that way. Most people probably did, unless they had managed to find their dream jobs in this world. It was a good enough job, and it paid her bills.

That had been enough once.

The hours were fantastic, not that it mattered anymore. She could take time off pretty much whenever she needed, which had helped in the past. It was a small photography business, meaning she wasn’t a cog in a machine, but it didn’t stop her from feeling like a robot now.

It was the only thing she felt like now.

One foot in front of the other, one call after another, one tick of the clock at a time. One by one by one, and eventually, the day ended and she could go home. Where time stopped, and she was only ever cold. Eventually, she would sleep, and then she would wake up. Toss, turn, roll over, sleep again. She might even go to her bed, if she felt like it, but the couch was good. Her alarm would go off, and she would shower, eat, and take the train to the office.

Day after day.

She was even working the weekends now, which her boss did not like, but she needed time to pass without tears, without emptiness, and without feeling sick.

She needed purpose, even if it wasn’t fulfilling. All she needed was something to fill her time and her days.

Which this did.

“Talia.”

She blinked at the sound of her name and glanced up. Her boss, Melanie, stood there, hands on her hips, brow wrinkled in concern. “Hi. You need something?”

Melanie pursed her lips, shaking her head. “No, I’m fine. Talia … it’s five-thirty.”

Talia blinked again. “Is it?” She looked at the clock on the wall across from her, the time registering but having no effect on her. “Oh.”

“You should have left hours ago.” There was no accusation in the statement, which was a change from what it would have been last year. Where once there would have been concerns about overtime, now it was simply a concern.

And an unspoken question that no one had ever asked aloud.

Talia hated that question. Everyone had it. Everyone.

And she didn’t have an answer. When would she be okay? She didn’t know. When would she be better? She didn’t know. When would she get over it?

Never.

How did anyone get over the loss of a child?

“I guess I’ll go now,” Talia murmured, turning back to her computer and clicking out of the windows there, logging into the timeclock and punching out.

“That wasn’t what I meant,” her boss insisted in an awkward tone, though it was clear she did mean it.

Everybody meant it.

Talia forced a smile and shook her head. “I lost track of the time, that’s all. See you tomorrow.” She started to walk away, fiddling in her bag as though for her keys.

It was all part of the act.

“Talia.”

She stopped, the reluctance in that tone making her go cold.

Don’t say it. Don’t say it.

“Do you need to take some time off?”

Talia closed her eyes, exhaling slowly. Was it always this difficult for childless parents to go back to work after the loss? Or was she just a special case?

She glanced over her shoulder, not turning. “I’m fine.”

“Take some time off, Talia,” Melanie said firmly, leaving absolutely no room for questioning. “I’ve already worked it into the schedule—you’ll get paid time off.”

Talia swallowed, slowly losing feeling in her legs. “I don’t have that many hours banked.”

“We’ve arranged it,” Melanie replied. “You have all that you need.”

That wasn’t possible, and that wasn’t accurate.

What she needed was Austin.

What she was getting was basically a suspension to get her act together.

“How long?” Talia asked quietly, trying to ignore how dry her throat was becoming.

“Three weeks. More if you need it.”

Talia exhaled a sarcastic laugh. “You can’t hold my job for three weeks, Melanie. Not at this time of year.”

“I’ve worked it out. If you come back in here tomorrow, I’ll fire you, and I don’t want to do that.”

And yet, the threat was there.

Talia bit back a sigh and nodded. “Okay. Thanks, I guess.” She nodded and walked out of the office, heading for the back of the building and the employee entrance.

She didn’t mean to sound like she had an attitude problem, and honestly, her boss was probably right. She needed time off, needed to get her head on straight, needed to find a way through her life without her boy, but she didn’t know how to do anything except go through the motions.

What was she supposed to do? Find a guidebook on grieving the most incredible seven-year-old and memorize the thing?

Pulling her phone out of her back pocket, she tapped out a quick text. I need pancakes and a hug. Someone in town?

She hadn’t even tucked the phone back into her pocket before she had a response.

Grizz: Yes. Where?

Talia struggled to swallow, emotion rising as she stared at the straightforward message from her cousin. Grizz McCarthy was an all-star pro-baseball player here in Chicago, and despite his fame, fortune, and popularity, he always had time for her.

They’d all grown up together, a mass of McCarthy-spawned cousins racing around backyards and parks, if not all of Chicago. Grizz was one of four boys. They had four other McCarthy uncles with varying numbers of kids, and Talia’s mom had been the only McCarthy girl, meaning Talia had been the only kid at family gatherings without the matching last name. Not one of her cousins had ever made her feel like she was anything less than a part of the group, which was a feat, considering she was the baby of the family.

She was starting to type out a reply to Grizz when another response popped up.

Clint: Same. Turnsberry Waffle House?

Now she was completely baffled, and she gaped at the screen as she walked the sidewalk in the early evening light. Clint was in town, too?

Clint was Grizz’s younger brother, and a pro-hockey player based out of St. Louis. It was easy enough to assume Grizz would be in town in March, but Clint …

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