Page 37 of The Brave and the Reckless

Chapter Twelve

CHARACTER MEET & GREET

From outlaws to sheriffs, meet the walking legends of Bravetown. Snap an unforgettable photo, listen to tales of their Wild West adventures and let them inspire your bravery.

Click herefor Meet & Greet schedules and locations.

NOAH

Summer being in full swing meant more time at the park, less time for the ranch. Usually, I managed to get a few hours out there in the early morning or late afternoon, away from the noise and the people. My family’s ranch was just a few minutes’ drive away, but between the wide green pastures, the tree-lined perimeter and the rolling hills behind it, it was perfectly secluded. Perfectly peaceful. Just me and a few tools. Sometimes Sanny came out to work alongside me. Time moved differently there. Life moved differently. I didn’thatelife at the park, but Ilovedliving on the ranch.

Besides taking up more of my time in general, summer season at Bravetown also meant being roped in at the park with few breaks during normal business hours.

“Please don’t put me on hold again, Sally. I only have about five minutes left,” I pleaded with the woman on theother end of the phone call. Instead of an answer, I got elevator jazz.

I hung up and shoved the phone into the hidden pocket on my holster. Tornado nudged me in the shoulder as I closed the gate to his box. He must have sensed my seething annoyance.

Sally was supposed to tell me which form I had to fill out, so we could accept monetary donations for the ranch. Apparently, I’d filled out the one meant for charities. How hard could it be to get the correct PDF sent to me? I couldn’t afford a lawyer to file all this crap for me yet, but god forbid any government website contain clear instructions. Tomorrow, I’d end up wasting my day off on phone calls and buffering websites instead of mounting new light fixtures in the bedrooms on the ranch like I’d planned.

I rolled my shoulders back and left Tornado with an extra apple before heading off to the side entrance of the park. I’d pick him up in an hour for the show. Anna and CJ were already waiting for me at the gate to accompany me into the crowd. It had seemed ridiculous to me, at first, to have two people shadow my every move. But they were worth their weight in gold as soon as a kid started barfing up their sugar overdose or some fan took their parasocial attachment to Ace Ryder a little too far.

“Can you tie a good solid knot? You know we have to tie people up when we rob banks,” I told the little guy who had proclaimed he wanted to join the outlaws. He was in a gray cowboy costume, save for the eye patch and the three-pointed pirate hat.

“I tie my own shoes,” he huffed with his hands on his hips.

“Hmm, all right.” I lowered myself to one knee. “Can you make a really scary face? A bandit has to be scary.”

He responded with a teeth-baring grimace and clawed-up hands that seemed more appropriate for a Halloween monster costume contest. He even added an angry growl.

“That is mighty scary,” I said. “I have to try that.”

I mirrored him, only for him to lift his claws higher and growl even louder.

There. Photo moment for the parents. I kept my own growl going for a moment or two, then outstretched my hand into the space between us. “All right, Harry, you’re hired. Your bandit name will be Harry the Horrible. Me and the other outlaws are robbing the bank later and I need you to watch very closely, so you know what to do next time, got it?”

“Awesome.” He beamed and slapped his sticky, sugary hand into my palm.

The kids’ enthusiasm never ceased to be infectious. It was so simple. Tiny pirate bandit growling at his enemies to scare them.

“Come here, Horrible Harry,” his mother cooed from the sideline of the photo space.

“It’s Harry the Horrible,” he corrected her, hands propped back on his hips.

“Okay, Harry the Horrible,” she laughed. “Come on, Gracie, your turn.”

“I don’t want to,” a young teen girl with blonde ringlets groaned. “I’m way too old for this.”

Harry cackled and turned back around to me. “She lo-o-oves cowboys.”

“Ohmygod, can we go?” She hid her face in her hands while her mother shoved her closer to me by the shoulders.

“I did not buy you that costume for you not to get a picture, honey.”

I hated these moments. Pushy parents of teenagers who were old enough to make up their own minds. It was a fine balance between coaxing a shy kid into a fun picture and knowing when to stop making it an even more embarrassing moment for them.

This one, however, was in costume indeed. She was dressed like Annie Lou, blue dress and white apron. Ah. The big blonde ringlets made sense. That was how Lindsey used to wear her hair as Annie.

“You look strikingly familiar,” I said and snapped my fingers against my hat to tilt it back. “Have I held you for ransom recently?”

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