Serenity Falls(35)

He nods in understanding. “I did. I had a great childhood, but my dad and I weren’t as close as we are now. He was strict. It was always focus on school, 4H, bull riding, and the ranch. There was always so much pressure put on me from him.” He takes a deep breath before adding. “And in turn, I put a lot of pressure on myself by trying my damndest to be the man he wanted me to be. I’m the only child my parents have. I never wanted to be a disappointment to them, but in the end, I turned out that way, anyhow. As soon as I left the ranch, I went crazy with drinking and partying, which led to sleeping with women I didn’t even know. After everything that happened, it’s the reason I’m taking a break from life… my life in Dallas. I need to get my shit straight before I return. I want to be a person my parents are proud of.”

I reach out with both hands and cup his cheeks as I make him look at me. At the contact, he turns into my touch and kisses my palm. “Nobody’s perfect, Wes. Some mess up more than others do, but that’s life. You’ve made your choices and survived the consequences. People can change. I’ve seen it happen. And you are not a disappointment, so please, never say that again,” I reply softly as I lean into him.

“You have a lot of faith in someone you barely know,” he replies. Wes’ eyes search mine as I kiss his cheek.

“Everyone deserves someone having some type of faith in them. You can change, Wes, but you have to want to, and you have to want to do it for yourself.”

“I know.”

“See, you’ve already taken the first step.”

“Thank you for believing in me,” he mumbles softly against my lips. Wes changes the subject and asks, “So, what brought you out here last summer?”

I shrug my shoulders and take a drink of my beer. “I used to suffer from depression when I was a kid, and my Aunt practically forced me into learning how to horseback ride.” And now it’s my turn to look away from him and out the windows of the tree house.

“So, that’s why you take to the horses so well and them to you,” he says as if he’s putting the pieces of a puzzle together.

My gaze swings his direction. Normally when I talk about how I suffered from depression, people ask all sorts of questions. What made you fall into a depression to begin with? Don’t you still suffer from depression? What kind of medication did you take when you were suffering? I can understand people’s curiosity, but after a while, the same repetitive questions begin to become mundane and annoying. I answer truthfully. “It’s the best thing my Aunt ever did for me. I didn’t want to be on medication, and she didn’t want me on it either. When I started to learn how to horseback ride, it was my escape from the past, present, and future. It’s like how people run and their brain just switches off. Horseback riding does the same thing for me.”

“Is being here at the ranch kind of like your way of paying it forward then?”

“I never thought of it like that, but yeah, I guess it is. I might not suffer from the same diseases or disabilities that the kids that come to Operation Love do, but I have suffered, and the smile that I see on their faces makes me feel genuinely happy. It’s like nothing else matters for them, except the here and now. I don’t really know how to explain it, but I love the kids that come here, and I love seeing the bonds they build with the horses. In a way, it’s like I can see myself through their eyes,” I answer.

“Are you happy now?”

I thought so, until you came along.

My eyes search his face. They move over the contours of this Adonis who sits in front of me. I can’t think of one single reason for me not to be happy now. I’ve been getting better with each day that passes. And sitting here staring at Wes, I can’t help but think how much happier I can get. “I am.”

He places his arm over my shoulders and tucks me into his side as he whispers against my temple. “Good.”





A couple of nights ago in the treehouse, we talked until the sun began to rise. Wes told me about how he came into professional bull riding. It all started when he was a part of the 4-H program in his elementary school. At the age of eight, he started raising a calf. By the time he was ten, he’d won first place. He collected his first blue ribbon when he sold that same calf. After that, as Wes grew older, he traveled out to different ranches and help herd cattle. One day, his friend Reid dared him to jump on the bare back of a bull, and the rest was history.

I told him about my life in Conroe. How I grew up living with my aunt. He didn’t ask questions about my parents, where they were, or why I didn’t live with them. He just sat and listened intently. I told him about how the ranch owner where I rode horses approached me about learning how to barrel race. Jim, the owner, told me how he had never seen his horses trust someone the way they trusted me. After his proposal, my mind pondered the idea. I didn’t want to race horses professionally, so, of course, I declined his offer. The connection I shared with them was just fine by me. Now, I look back and wonder if I could have gone through with it. Maybe if I had taken Jim up on his offer, I would have met Wes before now.