Page 98 of Marrying Mr. Majestic

Foster made his way over after finishing a conversation with Judge Whiteplume near Lake and Jackson’s booth. He handed a T-shirt to Camille. “Lake told me to thank you again for your help with Jackson’s ankle.”

Camille held up the shirt. It was the same Majestic Rocks design Way had given me a year ago but in a different color. Foster must have known how much Camille liked mine.

“That was nice of you,” I said, nodding to the shirt.

He shook his head. “Wasn’t me. I think Lake only had that one reprinted because Camille wanted one so badly. They’d updated the design, but Jackson said they sold so many last summer that they’re confident they can sell both versions.”

“What happened to Jackson’s ankle?” I asked. Camille wouldn’t talk about her patients, no matter how small Majestic was, so I had to rely on town gossip like everyone else.

Way lurched forward and tried to slap a hand over Foster’s mouth, but he didn’t cover it in time. “Snakebite.”

“Motherfucker,” Way hissed. “Thanks, asshole.”

Foster shoved Way’s arm off with a laugh. “What?”

“Now Silas isn’t going to go outside all fucking summer.”

“He got bit by a snake?” I hissed before pinning my husband with a glare. “Way told me snakes are rare around here.”

Sheridan and Camille sighed while Foster simply laughed. “Yeah, no. Not so rare. We probably get, what? A handful of snakebites every summer?”

Sheridan shook her head melodramatically. “As long as you wear your steel pants, you’ll be fine, Silas.”

I whipped my head toward my husband. “You told her?”

He bit his lip to keep from laughing.

“You’re dead to me,” I warned.

Bo turned around from where he’d been distracted by a boy selling popcorn. “Speaking of snakebites, didn’t Janice Godfrey get bit by one in her garden last week?”

Sheridan punched him in the shoulder, which only made Bo shoot her a wink.

Camille exchanged a look with Way and snorted again.

“Oh, you fuckers,” I said, realizing I was being had. “You’re making this up.”

Way said, “Do you know there are more venomous snakebites in New York than there are in Wyoming?”

“Not in Manhattan,” I said with a growl.

“Maybe not. But there are, on average, only twenty-one per year in the entire state of Wyoming. And we’ve only ever had to treat two at the clinic here in Majestic.”

“Two too many,” I grumbled.

Camille sighed. “Jackson didn’t get bitten by a snake. That’s all I can tell you.”

Foster nodded. “I was kidding before. He fell off his sex swing.”

Camille’s jaw dropped open. “That is not true!” I could tell she wanted to tell everyone the truth, but her oath prevented her from saying anything more.

Sheridan looked around before lowering her voice. “I heard it from Aunt Blake, who heard it from Kicky Winshaw that he was carrying Lake up to their bedroom and tripped on the stairs.”

Camille’s silence was very telling. When she didn’t correct Sheridan, we all started laughing and gossiping. It didn’t take long for Foster to warn my sister that one day, she’d have to treat her own brother for doing something stupid like that.

“Way, did you hear how Eden did at the North American qualifiers?” Sheridan asked.

Way shook his head. “I haven’t spoken to her in a few weeks. She’s been pretty busy with her new Petzl endorsement deal. And with Kyle,” he added with a grin. “But she’ll be here for the GrandSmash, and hopefully, we’ll catch up then.”

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