Page 11 of Jack of All Trades
Her expression immediately turns wary. "Why?"
"There's a rodeo competition at the fairgrounds. Nothing major, just a local event. But I'm riding, and I thought..." I trail off,suddenly unsure of myself. "You might want to see what it is I actually do. Before you dismiss it as just chasing belt buckles."
Maya looks genuinely surprised by the invitation. "You want me to come watch you ride?"
"If you want," I say, trying to sound casual. "No pressure. Just thought you might be curious."
She's quiet for a moment, considering. "What time?"
Hope flares in my chest. "Event starts at seven. I ride around eight."
"I'll think about it," she says finally, which isn't a no.
"Great. Text me if you decide to come. I can leave your name at the ticket booth."
Maya nods once, then gets into her car and closes the door. As she drives away, I find myself standing in the driveway longer than necessary, watching until her car disappears around the corner.
This is dangerous territory, Morrison, I tell myself. Rex's sister. In town temporarily. Clearly not interested.
But as I head back into the house, I can't help hoping she decides to come tomorrow night. I want her to see me in my element, doing what I love. I want her to understand that there's more to me than the charming cowboy facade she thinks she has all figured out.
I want her to see me, not the caricature her brother has described.
And that realization is more unsettling than I care to admit.
Chapter 4 - Maya
"This is stupid," I mutter to myself as I sit in my rental car outside the Pine Haven Fairgrounds. "So incredibly stupid."
The evening air is filled with the sounds of country music, cheering crowds, and livestock. The scent of fried food and hay drifts through my partially open window, and my stomach twists with a combination of hunger and nerves.
I've been sitting here for fifteen minutes, debating whether to go in or drive away. I told Rex I was going to explore the town, which isn't entirely a lie. I am exploring, just a very specific part of town where a certain cowboy happens to be performing.
My phone buzzes with a text from Jack:
*Not sure if you’re coming tonight, but your name's at the ticket booth if you are.*
I stare at the message, fingers hovering over the keyboard. I could make up an excuse. Say I'm not feeling well. Say I got lost. Say anything that would let me drive away from here and pretend I never considered watching Jack Morrison risk his life on the back of an angry bull.
But something keeps me from typing those excuses. Maybe it's curiosity about what he sees in this so-called sport. Maybe it's a desire to understand what drives him to do something so dangerous. Or maybe, and this is the thought I keep pushing away, maybe I just want to see him again.
*I'm here. Just parking.*
I hit send before I can change my mind, then grab my purse and step out of the car. The fairgrounds are busy but not packed. This is a local event, not a major competition. Still, there's an energy in the air that's undeniably infectious.
At the ticket booth, a middle-aged woman with a weathered face and kind eyes smiles at me. "Name, honey?"
"Maya Torres," I say, feeling oddly self-conscious. "Jack Morrison left my name?"
Her smile widens. "Sure did. You're all set." She hands me a ticket and a small badge that reads "COMPETITOR GUEST."
"Thanks," I murmur, pinning the badge to my jacket.
"Jack’s one of our best," she says. "You picked a good night to come watch."
I open my mouth to explain that I'm not "with" Jack in any meaningful way, that I'm just here out of curiosity, but the woman has already turned to the next person in line.
Inside, the fairgrounds are alive with activity. Food vendors line one side of the dirt pathway, selling everything from corn dogs to funnel cakes. Children dart between adults, some with painted faces and cotton candy. It's like every small-town fair I've ever seen in movies, but somehow more authentic.
