Page 44 of Rogue Cowboy
Lot of nothing.Too much time to think.
Do you write your thoughts down?I always do.Still.Have since I was little and got my first song journal.
I make notes.Since I met you.
A happy heart face was his answer.
Chapter Nine
“The rodeo ismy second favorite time in Marietta,” Riley informed him after they’d finished eating their fill of roasted chicken, Caesar and fruit salads, baked beans and corn.They walked toward the Graff Hotel where there was a large roped-off area and alcohol tent set up for local distilleries, breweries and even a few wineries to show off their offerings.
Cole enjoyed the occasional beer or whiskey with his cousins but didn’t intend to drink around Riley, as she’d told him she’d never drink again after that night.He intended to push her to talk to her parents and would even attend counseling sessions with her if she wanted him to but didn’t feel there was a need to encourage her to drink if she didn’t feel comfortable.He didn’t miss it.But she wanted to support Tucker and Laird, who were pouring their whiskey brand and new beer, lager and cider selections.
“Christmas in Marietta is magical.The snow.The lights.The Stroll.The gingerbread house competition, and the Christmas-tree decorating and auction.Telford Family Ranch always submits one—and we buy ours.”She laughed up at him.Her enthusiasm was contagious.“And a couple of years ago, the chamber and city started sponsoring a Christmas light display in Crawford Park and along the riverfront park.It’s magical.”
“A lot of magical going around.”He tugged on her messy braid in a style he’d never seen before.He craved the contact—unexpected as he’d never been a particularly physical person.
Was she trying to stress the geographical distance between them?He already knew Last Stand to Marietta was fifteen hundred miles north on I-25.Couple long days driving or a day of travel on a plane.Not insurmountable when he’d spent most of the past few years on the other side of the globe for months at a time.
They said hi to Tucker.Riley took a sniff of a whiskey shot and made an adorable yuck face that had made Laird double over laughing and urge her to leave as she was a bad advertisement.She handed it to Cole.
“Do you like it?”she asked him anxiously.“I don’t want to be rude.”
“You trying to peer pressure me?”Cole asked.
“C’mon, Texas, show Riley how to shoot whiskey,” Laird called out.
“I don’t need to drink to have a good time with you, Riley,” he said in a quiet voice.“I want you to feel safe.”
“I’m safe with you,” she said.Sighed.“I never drank until LA.There I tried to fit in, but I didn’t like it.Not ever.”
He touched her cheek with a knuckle.“Do what you want, Riley.Do what feels right.”
She searched his eyes and must have found what she was looking for because a smile quirked her lips and she tipped the shot glass against her lips but didn’t swallow.
“Woohoo it burns,” she sang out.“Laird Wilder, you are the best whiskey brewer in the west.”
She executed a little dance move and jazzed her hands.Cole laughed and barely resisted pulling her into his arms.
“That’s what I’m talking about.”Laird laughed at her silly.
The first band tuned up.
“You up for some two-stepping Cole?”Riley asked.“The first set is kind of a lesson or review so families can dance together before the kids have to go home to bed.”
“Always.”
*
“This is crazy.”Riley laughed as Bowen Ballantyne, a local rancher who moonlighted as a country music songwriter and occasionally played open mics, joined the band and began calling out—badly sometimes—the moves to some popular country dances.They were in the middle of the electric slide.The street was packed.Most people were in loose lines trying to follow the music and the steps, but others were freestyling or watching and calling out encouragement and a few kids ran around dodging in and out between the couples.
As Riley and Cole and a few other couples weren’t tripping over themselves or others, they soon found themselves in the front toward the stage.
Riley was already sweaty when the band swung into a country song and Bowen, accompanied by his cousin Bodhi, who’d finished medical school and had set up his first-year rotation at the Marietta Hospital, hopped up on stage to help Bowen out.Bodhi loved the crowd and the adulation—home boys and former pro rodeo stars always ate up the attention.
“Hey, girl,” Bodhi tagged Riley in the middle of the song.“Get on up here with your partner and show these folks how it’s done.”
“What?”She stared up at him, thinking Bodhi had lost his mind or her ears had gone crazy.
