"Life is not asured by the number of breaths we take, but by the monts that take our breath away."
— Maya Angelou
They'd landed in Houston just before midnight, exhausted from Detroit and running on fus. The city had three things going for it: the Houston Rodeo was in full swing, a gym equipnt supplier Sabine had connected them with, and a field team called the Roughnecks who'd expressed interest in joining up. Tomorrow's problem. All of it.
Luca had barely gotten his boots off before Emily pulled him into bed. They'd been asleep in minutes.
Which made the banging on his door at five in the morning even more unwelco.
Luca was tangled up with Emily, her back pressed against his chest, her hair in his face, one of his legs wedged between hers. The sheets had migrated sowhere around their ankles during the night. He was warm and comfortable and very much not wearing clothes, and the banging was absolutely not welco.
"Co on, doughboy!" Chris's voice ca through the door. "We're going for a run! Twenty minutes, let's go!"
Emily stirred against him. "I'm going to kill him."
The banging moved to the next door. Then the next. A muffled threat from Zoe. Ryan's voice saying sothing about human rights violations.
Luca tightened his arm around Emily's waist. She was warm and soft and he had zero intention of moving.
"We could ignore him," she mumbled.
"He'll just co back."
She turned in his arms to face him, eyes still half-closed, hair a disaster. The most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.
"Twenty minutes," she said. "Shower."
"Together?"
She laughed and shoved him out of bed.
Twenty-three minutes later, Luca stumbled into the lobby in running shoes and shorts. The rest of the team was already there. Ryan was slumped against a pillar. Zoe was glaring at Chris and Joey with murderous intent. Danny, the traitor, was doing stretches next to Chris like this was a perfectly normal ti to be awake.
Emily stood by the door, already stretching. She looked unfairly awake and unfairly good in running gear. How she'd gotten ready faster than him when they'd been in the sa bed, Luca had no idea.
"I hate you," Luca told Chris.
"You'll thank later."
"I will absolutely not."
"I think it's great," Danny said. "We've been slacking."
Zoe turned her glare on him. "You're dead to ."
They stepped outside and the morning air hit Luca with a pleasant warmth. Houston in March wasn't the brutal heat he'd heard about, but it was definitely warr than what they'd left behind in Detroit. The sun was just starting to paint the sky orange and pink, catching fire on glass and steel.
"Nice," Danny said. "Better than Detroit."
Chris set off at an easy pace, Luca falling in behind him. Then he pushed the pace, and the city woke up around them as they ran, weaving through Houston's streets. Early commuters in pickup trucks. A group of joggers in matching T-shirts. An older couple walking a dog that looked like it had survived a few bar fights.
And everywhere, cowboy hats. On businessn heading to work. On teenagers waiting for the bus. On a guy walking out of a gas station with a breakfast taco in each hand. Houston took its Western heritage seriously.
By the ti they looped back to the hotel, Luca was drenched in sweat and his lungs were burning.
But he felt alive. More awake than he had in days. Angelo's voice echoed in his head. Insurance, not dominance. He was starting to understand what the old man ant.
"Cavender's," Emily said over breakfast, scrolling through her phone. "It's a Houston institution. Boots, hats, the whole thing."
Luca thought about all those cowboy hats they'd passed on their run. The businessn, the teenagers, the guy with the breakfast tacos. When in Ro.
"Sure," he said. "Let's do it."
The place was enormous. Rows and rows of boots lined the walls, cowboy hats filled every display, and racks of belt buckles and pearl-snap shirts competed for attention. Country music played from hidden speakers.
"This is incredible," Emily said. Her eyes were bright as she pulled him toward the hat section. "Co on. We're doing this properly."
Luca let himself be dragged. He'd let Emily drag him pretty much anywhere if she smiled at him like that.
She grabbed a cream-colored cowboy hat from a display and settled it on her head. It was slightly too big, tilting down over one eye, and she looked ridiculous and perfect at the sa ti.
"What do you think?"
"I think you look like you're about to rob a stagecoach."
She swatted his arm. "Try one."
He picked up a black hat, sothing with a classic shape that the display called a "Cattleman." It fit better than expected. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and had to admit, it didn't look terrible.
"Very rugged," Emily said. She was grinning now. "Very cowboy."
"I'm from New Hampshire."
"You're from space now." She adjusted the hat on his head, with a smile, her dimples showing. "This one. Definitely this one."
They worked their way through the store. Emily found a hat she actually liked, a straw one with a subtle pattern in the band that made her look even cuter, accentuating her green eyes. Luca watched her try it on. God, she looked good in that hat.
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God, he loved her. Even in a boot store in Houston at noon. Especially in a boot store in Houston at noon.
"Boots next," she said.
The boot section was overwhelming. A sales associate nad Hank guided them through the options. The guy had to be seventy, with a gaunt face and deep wrinkles carved by decades of Texas sun. Square toe versus round toe. Traditional heel versus walking heel.
They both ended up with classic brown leather boots. Luca's had a subtle tooled pattern on the shaft. Emily's had a slightly lower heel that she declared "practical."
"Now you need a belt," she said.
She found it before he did. A leather belt with a silver buckle with a beautiful image of a bucking horse, its mane flowing behind it as it kicked at the sky. Not too flashy. Just enough detail to catch the eye.
"This one," Emily said. She held it up against him, checking the fit. "It's perfect."
He looked at the price tag and barely registered the number. Twenty-seven million on manufacturing equipnt two days ago. What was a belt buckle after that?
"Sold."
A commotion from the other side of the store caught his attention. Ryan and Chris were standing near a display of saddles, engaged in what looked like a very serious discussion with another sales associate.
Luca walked over with Emily trailing behind him. "What are you two doing?"
Ryan turned around, his expression completely earnest. "We're buying saddles."
"Saddles."
"In case we find sothing we can ride out there." Chris patted one of the saddles like it was a beloved pet. "You know. On New Dawn. Or wherever."
Luca stared at them. "We're going to Alpha Centauri. To rescue aliens. And you want to bring saddles."
"Frontier spirit," Ryan said.
"We might find horses," Chris added.
"Space horses?"
"You don't know." Ryan's jaw was set in that way that ant he'd already made up his mind. "Nobody knows what's out there. And when we find sothing rideable, we're going to be ready."
Luca looked at Emily. She was pressing her lips together, trying not to laugh.
"We've got room in the shuttle," Luca said with a shrug.
Ryan pumped his fist like Luca had just endorsed the idea. Chris was already waving over the sales associate.
Twenty-seven million on equipnt. Cowboy boots and hats for everyone. And now saddles. For space horses.
This was his life now.
The Houston Rodeo BBQ Cook-Off was chaos in the best possible way.
They'd arrived too early for the main rodeo events, but that turned out to be a blessing. The cook-off was in full swing, and the sll hit Luca before he even stepped out of their vehicle. Barbecue smoke and squite and sothing sweet caralizing over open flas.
The entrance was packed shoulder to shoulder, bodies pressing in from every direction as people funneled toward the gates. Luca kept Emily close as they shuffled forward with the crowd, the sll of barbecue growing stronger with every step.
Once past the bottleneck, the crowd spread out across the massive grounds. Team tents stretched in every direction, each one flying sponsor banners and corporate logos. Luca counted at least a dozen major companies represented just in the first row. These weren't backyard grillers. These were serious operations with serious money behind them, elaborate smoker setups that would put anyone's backyard cooking to sha. Maybe they should recruit a few of these teams for Alpha Centauri. Fresh brisket four light-years from Earth. Now that would be sothing.
"We need wristbands to get into the tents," Emily said, reading a sign near the entrance. "Sponsor access only."
Luca looked at the crowd milling around outside the roped-off areas. They could still sll the barbecue, still see the smoke rising, but the actual food was behind velvet ropes and security checkpoints.
Well. They'd figure sothing out.
He walked through the entrance with his crew, all of them in their new boots and hats, and he didn't try to hide. Angelo had taught him sothing in Detroit. They were the crew of the Triumph. They'd flown to another star system and back. They'd fought aliens and portals and saved each other's lives more tis than he could count.
No more hiding. No more ducking their heads. They were who they were.
The crowd here made that easy. Everyone was ard. Pistols on hips, rifles slung over shoulders. Half the people he passed were obviously adventurers, their System gear mixed with cowboy hats and boots. The other half were civilians who'd learned to carry weapons because that was just life now.
They made it maybe thirty feet before soone recognized them.
"Well, I'll be damned." A big guy in a competition team apron was staring at them from behind a security rope, tongs frozen in his hand. His team logo said "Smoke & Mirrors" in fancy script. "That's the Triumph crew."
Luca gave a small wave. "Yeah. That's us."
The guy's face split into a grin. He turned and hollered over his shoulder. "Bobby! Get your ass over here, we got us celebrities!" Then he unclipped the rope and waved them through. "Y'all get in here. My kids watched your broadcast from Alpha Centauri like fifty tis. You're honest-to-God legends." He gestured with the tongs toward the massive tent behind him. "Co on now, co on. Y'all gotta try our brisket. Best in Texas, I swear on my mama's grave."
That set the tone for the afternoon.
Word spread fast. The Triumph crew was at the cook-off. Competition teams kept flagging them down, hollering "Howdy!" and "Y'all co try this!" and offering samples with the kind of aggressive hospitality that apparently ca standard in Texas. Luca's initial discomfort faded as he realized these were regular people. Adventurers and families and barbecue enthusiasts who just wanted to feed them smoked at and hear stories.
Emily stayed close to his side, her arm looped through his. They wandered from tent to tent, getting waved in everywhere they went. "Now don't y'all leave without tryin' our ribs!" "Honey, you ain't had real barbecue 'til you've had ours!" "Sweet tea? It's fresh, darlin'."
Luca lost count of how many plates got shoved into his hands. Brisket and ribs and pulled pork and chicken that made him seriously reconsider every al he'd ever eaten in space.
"This is incredible," Emily said around a mouthful of burnt ends. Sauce was running down her chin and she didn't seem to care.
Luca looked around at the cook-off grounds. The smoke curling up from dozens of smokers. The crowds milling between tents. The sound of country music competing with laughter and conversation. "I keep thinking about what we're trying to build out there. On New Dawn."
"You an cowboys?" Emily was teasing, a smile playing at her lips.
"No, silly." He pulled her closer, his arm around her waist. "This. Humanity. People coming together, enjoying life. Outside of portals and monsters and everything else."
He gestured at the fairgrounds, the food stalls, the families and strangers all sharing the sa space.
"Look at them. The world is broken. Portals are still overflowing. People are still dying every day. And they ca here anyway. To eat barbecue and drink beer and just be happy for a few hours."
Emily was quiet for a mont. Her hand found his and squeezed.
"That's what you want," she said. "For the outpost."
"Yeah." His throat felt tight. "Not just survival. I want them to live. I want them to have cook-offs and rodeos and stupid argunts about whose brisket is better."
She turned to face him, both hands on his chest, looking up from under the brim of her hat. Her eyes were bright.
"Then that's what we'll build," she said. "Partner."
He kissed her. Right there in the middle of the Houston rodeo cook-off, surrounded by barbecue smoke and country music. Her lips tasted like brisket sauce and he loved her so much it hurt.
When they broke apart, she was grinning.
"Co on, cowboy." She grabbed his hand and started pulling him toward the midway. "I saw carnival gas over there and I'm going to win you sothing."
They found the others at the designated eting spot near the main entrance as the evening crowds started to thin.
Everyone looked wrecked in the best possible way. Danny had powdered sugar in his hair and a stuffed armadillo under one arm.
"How was everyone's day?" Luca asked.
A chorus of groans answered him.
"I ate my body weight in brisket," Ryan said. "No regrets."
"I ate my body weight and then so," Danny added. "So regrets."
"They banned from the shooting galleries," Zoe said. She was carrying at least four giant stuffed animals and had a bag full of smaller prizes. "Sothing about 'leaving prizes for the other guests.'" She held up another bag. "Won seven bottles of Hellsmack Carolina Reaper sauce before they caught on."
Luca looked at his team. His family. They were ridiculous. Stuffed full of barbecue, covered in powdered sugar and sauce, wearing cowboy hats that most of them had no business wearing. Ryan and Chris were carrying saddles for animals that didn't exist. Zoe was buried under enough stuffed animals to stock a toy store.
And they were happy. Actually happy. For the first ti in weeks, there was no weight on their shoulders. No recruitnt stress or impossible choices. Just a day at the rodeo with the people who mattered most.
"So," Danny said. "Was Chris's morning run pointless or what?"
"Completely pointless," Zoe confird.
"I've eaten approximately ten thousand calories," Emily added.
Chris shrugged. "Doing it again tomorrow."
Emily's hand found Luca's. She squeezed, and when he looked at her, she was watching him with that soft expression she got when she knew exactly what he was thinking.
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