Page 61 of Rogue Cowboy
Sarah strode away, not toward the lost and found, but toward the lot where all the rigs were.She waved the bra above her head like a prize she’d won.
“What was that about?”Arlo demanded.
“Gram’s kinda weird,” Petal explained.
“The bra was fire.I’d like a pink bra.”Arlo looked at her mom, who raised her eyebrows and smirked at her husband.
“Aaaaand, I’m out,” Cross said.
“Coward,” Shane called after her husband as he stalked toward the exhibition area.
“Girls, let’s go.”Riley used what she hoped was an I’m-in-control teacher voice and headed to the small arena, holding on to what little of her dignity remained.
Do you ever have dreams of flying?
Flying symbolizes freedom, liberation.Rising above challenges.
Riley hit send.She didn’t want to tell him she had dreams of drowning.Flying sounded much better.She wondered if she could will it—lucid dreaming so she could fly.
Are you feeling free?
Thinking about mustering out.Coming home.
Her heart leapt as she read the words.What did it mean?What did she want it to mean?
Chapter Thirteen
Cole stared atthe giant, piping-hot whatever—a pastry—that Riley handed to him after pulling off a chunk for herself.He tore a piece off.Riley laughed and nudged him with her shoulder.
The second trick-riding exhibition had gone what his maw-maw would have called swimmingly, which had never made sense to him, but the phrase popped into his head.Riley had shared her contact information with several parents, and he was beginning to realize that taking her to Texas was not going to be as straightforward as he’d imagined.
Some of his quandary must have showed on his face, though he tried to keep his thoughts and concerns to himself.
“Don’t worry.It’s called an elephant ear, but it’s not really from an elephant.Pass it down.”
“I know,” he said wondering when was the last time he’d indulged in something sweet.At the Jameson Ranch, his granddad often brought a few pies home from Char-Pie, a dessert café in town.He’d bring them to the bunkhouse for the ranch hands and whatever grandson was around.It was his secret—as if his wife of fifty-five years didn’t know what he was up to.
But he had loved those rare slices of pie.
Did Riley like pie?
He handed the pastry to Arlo, who shared it with Petal.He took a bite, and the warm cinnamon, sugar, butter and pastry practically melted in his mouth.
“Good,” he murmured as Riley was clearly waiting for a response.It felt strange being surrounded by her family when he’d spent so much time feeling alone.Cross, a former Special Forces soldier, once called Ghost, had shared deets of a business he and some friends—all ex Special Forces—were building.And he’d sent a link to their website.
It was like they expected him to stay in Montana.
And he got that.It was beautiful.Riley’s family and career were here.
And he was hardly dialed in to the Jameson Ranch anymore.
But he owed his family his loyalty.Cole had met with the Wilders and toured their ranch.It wasn’t as big as the Jameson Ranch, but the wild beauty of snow-capped peaks, alpine forests and endless dark blue sky held an appeal he felt was disloyal.
He’d taken notes and pictures and had discussed the business his grandfather had asked him to.Even as he set up a follow-up Zoom meeting next week after the rodeo, promised his granddad he’d attend in person, when all he’d wanted to focus on was Riley.
His granddad had raised him.He deserved his best, not his half-assed.He had an invitation to the Telford Ranch and Three Trees later in the week.But Texas was home, and he couldn’t help but speculate that Riley might heal better in a different setting.
The announcements had started up, and he ignored them.Most rodeos had a similar rhythm—local dignitaries spoke, the mayor, the heads of this, that, and the other thing.Sponsors.He wasn’t aware of anything but Riley—the slight shock filtered with a soft warmth in her eyes, her beautiful lips softly pursed, open, and her hand, napkin balled, still near his face as she dapped at some of the pastry crumbs.
