She watched the rest of the show until it was time for her to do the final routine with the whole crew. A montage of the best tricks from the night as everybody rode through the arena quickly and did a little exhibition to some rollicking country music.
And then, it was time for the shoot-out, which was essentially a finely tuned stunt show.
Her brother was playing the part of Austin Wilder tonight, which she thought might be weird for Flynn. West stood up at the very top of a second-story building facade that was made to look like the main street of town.
“You’ll never take me alive, Sheriff.”
The sheriff had been altered in their little show, and was now a mustache-twirling villain, while Austin was painted as a heroic figure.
“You’ll have to shoot me dead if you think you’re going to take me.”
“That can be arranged.”
Their stunt gun popped off several shots, and West clutched his chest, falling straight out of the window, onto some dust-colored mats below.
The whole crowd cheered, and Jessie rode her horse back into the arena along with another line of riders, doing some rapid-firestunts. And then West’s horse trotted out to him, and he got on the back of it, standing and waving at the crowd. “Legends never die.”
And then he rode off into the sunset. Just as it should be.
It made her sad to think he meant to leave this behind. Made her feel lonely.
She needed to talk to him.
But she looked into the crowd and saw Flynn, standing there in the front row, clapping for her.
And her heart leapt up into her throat.
Oh, Flynn.
She put her horse away and then hurried out the back exit, into the crowd.
She never mixed with the audience. Usually, she avoided crowds. But this time, she was meeting potential constituents. And this time, Flynn was waiting for her.
She had to stop and talk to all the people who recognized her from her announcement and from her campaign signs. She hadn’t expected this response. But it was enthusiastic. To say the least.
“All I can say,” she quipped, signing a hat for a small child, “is it’s much cooler to have a mayor who can do trick riding, isn’t it?”
Then Flynn came to her side and kissed her on the cheek. And she thought her heart might burst through her chest. When they finally broke away from the crowd, her heart was pounding hard. “I meant all of that,” she said.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“I meant all the things I said to everybody. I wasn’t doing a bit. I just feel … I feel confident. I feel like myself tonight in a way that I can’t really explain. I’m just … I feel different. And it isn’t because you ‘made me a woman,’” she said.
He looked a little bit as if she had hit him in the side of the face with a two-by-four. And then he recovered. “I did, though,” he said.
“Absolutely not. None of that caveman stuff.”
“Oh, please. You’re walking around with a new pep in your step, and you were foolish enough to tell me about it. You must want me to be a little bit of a caveman about it.”
She thought about it. “Yeah. I guess I do. A little.”
Because while she had been a secret virgin, Flynn definitely wasn’t. So maybe she did like the fact that he might feel a little pleased about the way they had come together. Possessive even.
When he wrapped his arm around her and walked with her toward the staging area at the back of the arena where her family was standing, she felt small. Feminine and protected. Which was different from feeling lusted over. It was just different.
“Great show,” Flynn said.
“Thank you,” her dad said, clapping Flynn on the back.
