Page 22 of The Cowboy's Temporary Solution

"You're going to go get her, right?"

Mom's voice hitches up an octave, sounding almost panicked as she stops dead in the hallway with her load of folded towels and linens and turns back to give me a pointed stare.

"What am I supposed to tell her?"

"Well, if you love her, you make sure she doesn't walk away thinkin' different, Ranger. If she brings up what I said about Bernadine, just tell her I was high."

Mom ends on that note, turns, and heads to put away the laundry, leaving me stuck in place trying to process her last comment.

Kimberly O'Leary might be a rough and tumble country girl, and I'm sure she's got stories that she's never shared with us boys, but "high" is not a thing I'd ever suspect her of being.

I think.

Scrubbing my hand down my face, I try to erase Mom's joke from my memory-- hope it's a joke-- and then my feet get moving.

Ma might have had her facts all screwed up about some things, but she's right about going after Seri-- I can't let her go without letting her know my real feelings.

9

SERENITY

"Idon't know about this." I laugh, in spite of the dull ache inside me. "I feel kind of silly."

"But you look hot."

Singer Kelly gives a low wolf whistle as she looks me over, a grin on her face as wide as the mountain ranges that cage in the Slow River Valley.

"Ranger's a moron, sweetie, let's go get you a real cowboy."

Singer swings the driver side door of her pick up closed with an emphatic thunk and beckons me to follow her.

I'm feeling self-conscious in the cut-off jean shorts that Kimberly had insisted on tossing in with our day's loot, but Singer convinced me that I should get some use out of them before I leave the valley, so here I am, traipsing through a massive dirt parking lot toward the lights and sounds of a genuine, small town, country fair even though my heart is feeling like it's been run through mud.

It didn't take long after I arrived at the Kelly family's Walking Y Ranch, rolling my suitcase behind me, for Singer to deduce that I hadn't asked about staying at the beautifully remodeledbed and breakfast for the sake of mere research into the family history.

As predicted when Ranger first introduced us, Singer makes an easy friend. One who immediately recognized a broken heart and is now determined to show me that there's more than one single cowboy in this valley.

Her mood is infectious, so I find myself grinning as I follow her into the fair where Slow River is celebrating opening night with a live band playing classic country, all things deep fried and delicious, 4-H livestock up for auction, and the rodeo that Singer's eagerly dragging me toward.

She says I haven't met the Lazy P till I've seen them in action.

"You need a beer and a funnel cake," Singer informs me as we pass a concession stand that smells like fry oil.

"That sound awful," I laugh. "I want strawberries on mine."

The funnel cakes are good and go surprisingly well with the beer. Singer assures me that my first rodeo is a far cry from the big competitions, but watching the Pereira brothers ride into the arena on bulls intent on throwing them off is enough to convince me I could never be a rodeo cowboy's wife.

"Jasper's up next." Singer leans over and yells in my ear above the applause that breaks out in the stands around us. "He'll go all eight seconds here, but he's not a serious competitor like Beryl and Slate."

She's right. Jasper easily makes the buzzer and jumps free of the bull just as it goes into a spin.

"They make it look easy."

"Right up till they don't." Singer tips her plastic beer cup back and drains the last drop. "You met Beryl at the memorial, right? You should see the video of his last ride. He's still not sure when he'll be ready to get back on the circuit.

"Want another?" She holds up her empty and one eyebrow.

"I don't think so. I'm going to head for the bathroom."

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