Page 140 of We Drank the Dawn

“Bea.” Tag’s voice came like a quiet plea. “It’s alright. Peter is gonna be fine.”

“I can’t watch him almost die again, Tag.” The rims of her eyes went pink, welling up.

“Let’s talk about it later, alright?”

Slowly, I sat down at the table, feeling guilty even though I wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t my responsibility to make sure Peter didn’t get hurt again. He was a full grown man who wanted to do this.

In icy silence, Bea served the rest of the food and we loaded our plates. When she came to sit at the table, she wouldn’t look at either of us and I could tell she was fighting for her life to not cry. Tag could tell too, because he kept gently rubbing her back and pressed a kiss to her forehead twice.

Aside from a few updates from Tag and Jesse, the table was eerily quiet, and I couldn’t help but feel like I’d done something wrong. When we finished up, Tag said, “Cooper, can you stay back for a minute?”

My heart sank. “Uh, yeah, sure.”

Peter, Rudy, Cody, and Harlan dumped their plates and cleared out, leaving me sitting across from Bea, Tag, and Jesse. My stomach turned in my gut.

Tag asked, “Who’s idea was it?”

I reiterated, “Peter’s.”

“You do realize how dangerous it is, right?”

I nodded. “It wasn’t my decision.”

Jesse shook his head. “Coop, you can’t just throw Peter up on a bronc and hope he figures it out.”

I rolled my eyes. “Give me a little credit, Jesse. I’m not an idiot. Harlan has been drilling him on the fundamentals for days now.”

“Has he?” Jesse looked impressed.

“Yeah, he’s been practicing. He’s not half bad either.”

“I don’t think you understand.” Bea shook her head. “There’s no way of really knowing the exact stage of healing in his brain. If, for some reason, he isn’t fully healed, the results of a second injury could be life threatening⁠—”

I turned my eyes to her, suddenly angry for my friend. “So, what, Bea? You want him to live in a bubble the rest of his life?”

“No, I never said that.” She shook her head. “I’m not even a fan of him helping with the schedule.”

“But you can’t deny how much more relaxed he has seemed over the last couple weeks. He loves riding.” Frustration built in my chest. It felt wrong, having this conversation without Peter here to say his peace. I didn’t know how much Peter had shared with Bea, and I didn’t want to overshare on his behalf. “All of you know the therapeutic benefit of working with horses. They ground people, and Peter has needed that.”

“Riding is one thing. Rodeo is another,” Jesse said.

“Regardless, Peter chose to do it, so I don’t see how a conversation behind his back helps.”

“I’m not trying to talk behind his back,” Bea said. “But if you helped him open this can of worms, I think you should try to talk him out of it.”

We held eye contact. “I’m not going to do that, Bea.”

“Why? Peter is risking his brain out there.”

Tag shot me a warning look and I softened my tone, remembering I was talking to his wife. “Because I’m not his mom or his doctor. If you’re concerned then you talk him out of it.” I lifted my hat, the roots of my hair suddenly prickling with angry heat. “You know how emasculated Peter probably feels from everything that’s gone down over the last two years? If he wants to go out there and risk his neck to feel powerful again, I’ll be the last one to stop him.”

Bea went silent at that, blinking a couple times.

And for a while, we all sat there, thinking it through.

Finally, Bea asked, “What about Sarah?”

“What about her?”