Page 34 of Rough Ride

“You’ll see!” I replied cheerfully.

“I can’t let you pay for dinner,” he said as we walked along the cobblestone street. “I’m too much of a gentleman.”

I rolled my eyes at the chivalry. It was cute, but annoying. “I insist. Unlike you, I actuallymademoney today.” I pulled out the wad of bills I had earned from tips.

“Ouch,” Johnny said, clutching his chest.

“Too soon?”

“Depends on how good dinner is,” he replied. “In my experience, a good meal heals all wounds.”

As we walked into the busier section of the Fort Worth Stockyard, Dusty automatically slowed down and walked alongside Johnny’s left leg. He was well-trained. Another good sign.

“Are you sure Dusty’s allowed inside?” Johnny asked, glancing through the windows of a steakhouse as we passed.

“We’re not goinginsideanywhere,” I replied, pointing ahead. “That’s dinner tonight.”

He squinted as we approached a food stand on the side of the walkway, illuminated with bright lights. “Hot dogs?”

“The best in Fort Worth! But if you’re too good to eat hot dogs for dinner…”

Johnny grinned. “Make it a chili dog, and you’ve got a deal. But you have to buy one for Dusty, too.”

I snorted. “Obviously.”

We ordered three chili dogs with extra cheese, then found a nearby bench to sit on while we ate. Dusty wolfed his down in two quick bites, then politely laid down in front of us and watched the crowd, tongue lolling out happily.

“This is a damn fine chili dog,” Johnny admitted.

I popped the last bite into my mouth and held out my palm for Dusty to lick. “Right?” I said with a full mouth. “There’s good people-watching here, too.”

“Lotta rodeo fans,” Johnny said, eyes following the stream of people walking in front of us. “Everyone’s dressed the part. Or at least, tryin’ to dress the part.”

I chuckled. “You hit the nail on the head. We have a saying around here. Dallas is where the working class pretends to be rich, while Fort Worth is where the rich pretend to be working class.”

“I can tell,” he said dryly. “See the woman with the tassels on her vest? Her boots cost ten grand.”

I almost choked on the piece of hotdog in my mouth. “Ten grand? As in, tenthousanddollars?”

“Yes ma’am. Ostrich leather.”

“I’ve heard of that, but didn’t realize it was so expensive. Is it better than regular leather?”

“Not particularly,” he said. “But if you jack the price up on something and call it rare, people’ll buy it.”

“Isn’t that the truth,” I muttered. “I like to play a game when I come here to get a hot dog, especially during the rodeo. I watch the people in the crowd and try to guess what they do for a living.”

“Good game,” Johnny said, leaning closer to me so he could lower his voice to a deep, rumbling whisper. “How about those two men?”

I immediately knew who he was talking about. “Let’s see. Designer jeans. Massive beer bellies. Cowboy hats and boots so new I’m pretty sure they bought them today. They’re a pair of Dallas businessmen visiting Fort Worth to cosplay as cowboys for the weekend.”

“They’re C-suite for sure,” Johnny agreed. “You can tell they haven’t broken in their boots by the way they’re walkin’. They’ll have blisters in the mornin’.”

I nodded at a woman walking alone. “Your turn. What’s she do?”

Johnny squinted. “Older woman, red boots and sequin skirt. This isn’t her first rodeo, you might say.”

I snorted. “I’m going to let that bad joke slide, but you’re on thin ice.”

---