She suppressed a shudder. “No, but there’s a first time for everything. Besides, it’s not like itwould take us forever to solve the case. I can rough it and be a country girl for a few days.”
She said this with a straight face, while sitting on her plush carpet in her million-dollar condo, wearing silk pajamas that required dry cleaning and cost as much as my car, and I lost it. My home town wouldn’t even know what to do with her, and she would probably go into culture shock and die theminute we passed the “Tallest Town in Oregon” sign.
Addison joined me on the sofa. “Stop laughing at me. I could totally survive your home town.”
The hurt look on her face silenced my laughter. “Addie, it’s not you, it’s Lakeview. It’s...difficult to explain. Everyone in town will know we’re there, and we’ll have to deal with my dad, my crazy uncle Ron, my grandma, and that bitch Brandy whoused to torment me.”
“It’s been years since you’ve been back, Dylan. People change. Besides, I’d love to meet Brandy right about now. It would give me a chance to work off some of this rage I feel toward Jake.”
I opened my calendar, wishing some important appointment would appear and make it impossible to leave town, but other than plans made with Asher my schedule was depressingly clear. Thedate piqued my interest, though. “Crap. We can’t go. It’s almost Labor Day.”
“So?” she asked.
“Labor Day weekend is when they hold the fair and Roundup. It’s the biggest event the town has each year. The motels are probably all booked up.”
“Roundup? Isn’t that like a rodeo? Is that where you used to barrel race?” she asked.
A few years after Addison and I had become friends, I’d had a momentof insanity and shown her my barrel racing ribbons. She’d called me “Cowgirl” for months afterward, making me want to lobotomize her so she’d give it a rest. I was no cowgirl, at least, not anymore. I’d moved to Portland to get away from that life. Refusing to associate myself with the answer, I replied, “There is barrel racing during the roundup.”
“Ohmigod!” she squealed. “Dylan, this is justwhat I need to get over Jake.”
Rubbing my temples, I asked, “What is, exactly?”
She looked at me like I was stupid. “Hot cowboys, horseback riding, and a new case. It’s perfect. We will be able to ride horses, right? You know I haven’t ridden in over a year, not since Tizzie died.”
Addison’s beloved Friesian had developed colic and the vets weren’t able to save him. That gelding had helpedher win every jumping and dressage competition all over the country for close to ten years. They were inseparable...partly why she hadn’t had the heart to buy another horse.
“I’m sure we can rent a couple of horses. That would actually be fun. I miss riding,” I admitted.
“Great.” She clapped her hands. “Then you can introduce me to all your hot cowboy friends.”
I groaned, wishing she wouldlet it go. I understood Addison’s infatuation with cowboys, because the media romanticized the hell out of them. But the cowboys I knew usually had Copenhagen dripping down their chins and smelled like stale whisky and horse manure. They did nothing for me. “Addie, a few months ago you couldn’t handle ten minutes in my white-trash apartment, and we’re talking about days—maybe even a week or so—deepin redneck territory.”
“F.Y. information, I was the one who spent almost an hour packing up your apartment. Plus, I love you and it’s where you came from, so how bad could it be?”
How bad indeed. “Bad. Trust me on this one.”
“No. I need out of this city for a while, and those little old ladies clearly need our help. We’re going.”
Knowing there was no way I was getting out of it, I sighed.“Fine. When do you want to leave?”
