“Tonight?” he asked.
I wanted time to prepare, mentally and physically, but maybe it was better to vault back into the saddle before I started second-guessing myself. “Sounds perfect.”
SEVENTEEN
AMY
Idropped Cal off in town and headed to my office. With Mayor Bob Lumley out on sick leave with no known return date, his duties had fallen to me. Admittedly, I’d been doing most of them for a while now. According to Laura, Bob had been this town’s mayor since before Jake and Brian were born. In a town of this size, his role was mostly ceremonial. Outside of the duties like ribbon cuttings and speech making, he’d spent most of his time—along with the two Bobs who served as part of the town council—schmoozing with the Cattlemen’s Association and keeping the local ranchers happy.
For some, that might seem frivolous, but it was the ranchers who kept this town alive. The workers needed places to live and shop and socialize, and they were the engine that drove the economy.
The amount of messages and queries about everything was overwhelming, so I took Henry’s puzzle piece approach and separated everything out in terms of what it was for and how urgent. Little by little, I managed to get through the most urgent and then took care of anything that could be handled immediately. That still left a lengthy to-do list on top of everything rodeo-related.
Six hours later, I wondered what I’d been thinking by agreeing to this date. When I stood in front of my closet trying to decide on an outfit, there was nothing suitable for a date with a man who made my insides melt. Which was silly. I was past the age when that should happen. I wasn’t looking for fireworks and romance, even if the flowers the other night had been a welcome surprise.
I reviewed my choices. Black stretchy knit dress. I shook my head, too sexy. Red wrap blouse and jeans. I eyed the outfit, but decided it was too casual. Something blue. I looked good in blue, maybe even wholesome, which was probably the right look for the evening. Blue tunic over black leggings with ankle boots. Hair down around my shoulders, and some makeup, but not full on I’m-going-out makeup. I went into action, getting ready.
“Cal’s here,” Jake called to me. Henry was at the grocery store with Laura or he’d have raced ahead of me to see Cal. I thought it was nice of Laura to remove part of the audience, hence reducing the awkwardness I was already feeling. I gave myself one last check in the mirror before going to meet my date.
“Hi, Cal,” I said as I entered the living room, ignoring how fast my heart beat at the sight of him. He was dressed casually in jeans and a western shirt with cowboy boots, and he looked good. “I’m ready to go.”
“I was just telling Cal that you have a midnight curfew.” Jake had his hands on his hips.
“I do?” I said to banter with Jake, who looked like he wasn’t quite joking. I shifted my attention to Cal, whose eyes were sweeping over me with obvious approval. That was a good start to the evening.
“I’ll make sure she gets home safely,” Cal said to Jake, but he didn’t agree to the curfew, I noted.
“Where are we going?” I asked when he opened the truck door for me. He was acting as if this was a real date, which was cute and appreciated.
“Out of town,” he said. “I thought that would be better.”
“Definitely,” I agreed. We drove to Beaumont. It was far enough that folks wouldn’t mistake Cal for Luke.
The place Cal had chosen was a bar I had heard about but never been to called the Tipsy Vandal. It had a funky vibe, caught between the country-western scene and something more urban. I liked the graffiti style wall art and neon lighting. The atmosphere made it easy to relax. The company did, too.
Cal did everything right. Complimented my outfit, held doors, put his hand on the small of my back when we walked through the bar. I’d known he was charming since I’d had the opportunity to see that in action during interviews, but when he turned that charm exclusively on me, it was very gratifying.
The server dropped off our drinks. We toasted to the success of the rodeo and I added a silent wish for a successful date.
We were interrupted by fans twice. One couple had seen us on the morning show and said they’d just bought tickets to the rodeo. Another had asked Cal for a selfie and an autograph. Evidently her son was neurodivergent and a huge fan, and Cal asked her to call him. He talked to the kid for a few minutes and was incredibly patient with him before handing the phone back to his mom.
“You’re really good at that,” I said. He shrugged off the compliment.
“It comes with the territory. It’s the fans that make rodeos successful. If you piss them off, they won’t come back.”
“While that’s true, I’m sure not all competitors are as kind to the fans as you are. You genuinely seem to like them.”
“Not all of them. Some like to cause trouble or expect you to be at their beck and call. Those kind of people can make it hard,” he admitted.
“Well, tell me some good stories.”
Cal talked about what it was like on the rodeo circuit, constantly moving from town to town. It sounded exhausting to me, never knowing where you’d sleep next, but he made it all sound fun and interesting. He talked about competing in Calgary and how busy it was, then he shared a funny story about competing in a rodeo in Australia and the culture clash when he’d managed to put his foot in his mouth.
He made me laugh several times, especially when he pretended to brag about his battle scars from years of competitions.
“I had noticed that one,” I said, tracing my finger over a jagged scar on his right forearm. He usually wore his sleeves down, but he’d rolled them up in the heat of the bar. “Must have been a bad fall.”
“Not at all,” he dismissed it. “The scar itself is way more interesting than how I got it.”
