Broken Strings

Twenty-One

Travis

Thinking will not overcome fear but action will – W. Clement Stone

The Tishomingo Rodeo Classic rolled into town with the force of a thunderstorm. Swift and sure, as electric as the lightning that sparked through a smattering of black clouds. Around town, people were abuzz with the excitement and all of the motels and hotels in the area slowly filled to capacity.

Things were no less quiet at the Grant ranch. In the week leading up to the rodeo's arrival, Travis spent his days working both on the land and with Guac who had decided his stubborn streak was here to stay. But Travis' mornings were spent training for the upcoming rodeo. He focused on his core until planks and crunches and leg drops filled his dreams.

They weren't the only thing that filled his dreams but...

Travis tried not to think of the other thing at all. Tried to keep his mind firmly off of the other thing.

He'd even gone so far as to avoid visiting his sister for the last few days just so he didn't have to see the other thing that was Brock Mason. The man that Travis had said way too much to as they'd lounged by the creek for hours together.

It had been odd for Travis that night after leaving the creek. He felt like the other Travis. The one who existed in shady motel rooms with Sam Kline except...

There had been less shame with Brock. Sam was engaged and there was something about the act of slinking into each other's rooms using the darkness and flickering motel lights to cover them that always left Travis feeling a little uncomfortable the next day. As if he'd done something wrong even if those nights with Sam...Those were the only times that Travis ever truly felt right.

And somehow, in a way that Travis couldn't comprehend, he'd felt more than right sitting with Brock. He'd also felt seen and known and understood which also didn't make sense because Brock Mason didn't really know who Travis was. He couldn't. Not considering the small amount of time that they'd actually known each other and yet it was the truth.

It was also the reason that Travis had been avoiding Brock because he wasn't sure he could even keep functioning properly if he saw the other man again. Didn't have any inclination as to how he could begin to keep his wits about him if Brock kept staring at him with those deep, knowing and soulful sea-green eyes.

The eyes were what Travis dreamed about the most. Well, the eyes and the lips and what it would feel like if—

No.

Travis shook the thoughts away, even as gooseflesh rose on his arms. It was really not the time to be daydreaming.

Before him, the road stretched towards the rising sun as Travis sped in his truck toward the rodeo grounds. He always liked to get to the rodeo early in the morning whenever he competed. Liked to sit in the lot with the windows rolled down for a spell before signing in just to let the comforting country air bring some semblance of balance to his system. He'd always found it calming, like the act of sitting in his truck and listening to the squabble on the radio and the distant sounds of horses and cattle, could chase away the nerves.

Yet when Travis arrived at the rodeo grounds, typically only filled with volunteers and workers preparing for the crowds and the first events of the day, he didn't have the time to sit in his truck alone for a familiar frame was leaning against the nearby arena. He cut the engine and paused, staring in the silence of the cab, as Brock Mason lifted his head away from his cell phone only to stare in Travis's direction.