Page 42 of Marrying Mr. Majestic

“I understand.” I tried to imagine doing roundup without her help. “You know anyone else who’d want the work next week?”

“Possibly Taza if he can get Jenks to give him the time off.”

Last time I tried to borrow my neighbor’s best hand, Mr. Jenks hadn’t spoken to me for a month. I grunted.

Natana’s answering grin was bright and easy. “Or how about that handsome husband of yours?”

I let out a soft snort. “Silas doesn’t ride.”

Her eyes widened. “No shit?”

“No shit. He’s from New York. He rides the subway, and that’s about it.”

“Then it sounds like we have some work to do! We need to get that man on a horse. I’ll bet I can give him some lessons on Bunny. She’ll go easy on a beginner.”

The idea of Silas out of his comfort zone made me happier than I expected. “I would pay big money to see those lessons.”

We joked the rest of the way to Foster’s office, where I found not only my best friend but also my husband.

“God, he’s handsome,” Natana said on a soft sigh.

“No shit,” I replied without thinking.

Natana reached over and shoved my shoulder. “Lucky dog.”

We entered the office laughing. When Silas caught sight of me, his eyes darkened. At this point, that intense look had a one-way ticket to my dick, so I had to immediately school my thoughts to keep from embarrassing myself in mixed company.

“It’s about time,” Foster said, standing up and stretching. “I was ready to call Bernice and tell her not to bother sending you over since Silas here has already pretty much solved our dilemma.”

My mood soured again as I glared in Silas’s direction. “That so?”

His smile wavered. “I only made some suggestions…”

Thankfully, Natana didn’t notice the tension between us. “Silas, I’ve decided I’m going to teach you to ride. Can you meet me around three at Way’s barn? Wear jeans and shoes with a heel if you have them, and if you have something with a steel toe, even better.”

He looked surprised but nodded anyway.

“Great, see you then. Foster, always good to see you.” She waved before turning and leaving back the way she’d come. Just before exiting the doorway, she turned back. “Way, if I find anyone else who can help with roundup, I’ll let you know. Sorry to bail on you.”

I waved her off and took a seat next to Silas across from Foster’s desk. “I had some thoughts about the traffic diversion,” I began.

Foster shook his head and pointed at Silas. “No need. This guy got us access to ETC. Do you know what that is?”

The confusion on my face must have been answer enough because he continued. “It’s an emergency traffic light control software. Once it’s installed, we’ll be able to control the stoplights electronically based on the needs of emergency vehicles. It’s been on my radar for a while, but it’s not in our municipal budget.”

“I don’t understand,” I admitted, looking between Foster and Silas. “How can we get it if it’s not in our budget?”

Silas’s eyes shifted away. “I do consulting for the company that sold it. They have grants for small towns like Majestic, and I’m confident I can get it approved.”

I glanced back at Foster. “How would that solve our problem during the exhibition?”

“From what Silas says, we can set the lights on Poke to stay on red—with the exception of emergency vehicle access—while reprogramming the lights on Thorpe and Leigh to stay on green…”

As he continued explaining the plan, I realized it solved our problem nicely without the need to bring in outside law enforcement officers to help manage traffic.

“Can it be implemented that fast?”

Silas leaned forward. “Yes, and we can even schedule the training follow-up visit for the week of the exhibition so there’ll be an ETC technician on-site during the event.”

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