Page 56 of Rough Stock
“Roger?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks,” Jensen whispered, overcome with emotion.
“You’re welcome. That’s what friends are for.” With that, the phone went dead and Jensen tossed it onto the little bedside table.
SammyJo and Amber. Roger. Shyanna. His circle was getting bigger, and for that, he was truly thankful.
“You’re not really planningto ride tonight, are you?” Dale asked when Jensen signed the lists the next day for steer wrestling and all the rough stock events.
He’d spent most of the day with Roger, going to the police department and picking up Cobra’s body, then feeding Roger a late lunch so he could head right back to SouthCarolina. He was in no mood to be questioned. “To honor the life of that mount who gave everything he had serving me? Fuck yeah, I’m riding tonight. Wouldn’t do anything else.”
“Well, just be careful. Your heart won’t be in it and you’ll be distracted. Those are the sorts of things that get cowboys hurt,” Dale reminded him. “You riding in the team roping with Owens?” he asked as he saw Jimmy open the door, look in, and then close it again.
“Yep.”
“Well, okay then. Good luck to both of you. I see she signed up for bull riding and bareback bronc too.”
Jensen nodded to him. “Yep. And she’d better not get roughed up over it either. I’ll knock some heads together.”
“Can’t promise you anything,” Dale said, turning away. He knew that woman shouldn’t be riding in those events, but he couldn’t say that to Strader.
“Well, thanks a lot. At least you’re honest,” Strader said as he walked out and slammed the door behind him.
In seconds, the door opened and Jimmy strolled in. “Strader in here crying on your shoulder?”
“Nope. He was in here to sign up for events tonight,” Dale said, taking a seat behind the little desk.
“You didn’t tell him he couldn’t?”
Dale shook his head. “Nope. He’s not injured, and he’s not in violation of any of our rules or bylaws, so there’s nothing I can do about it.”
Jimmy threw himself down in a chair in front of the desk. “Well, so much for that. They think MaxBarlow killed that horse,” he announced.
Dale fixed a piercing glare on Jimmy. “And what do you think?”
Jimmy shrugged. “How the hell would I know?” Regardless what he said, there was something on his face that left Dale with a wildly unsettled feeling in his gut.
“Okay then. I’ve got to get back to work,” Dale said, dismissing Jimmy.
“Have you signed that contract yet?”
“No, and I’m not going to,” Dale answered, never looking up.
“And why not? We need that money!” Jimmy barked at Dale.
Dale’s gaze shot up under his brow and locked with Jimmy’s. “Because there’s something wrong there. I don’t know what it is, but there’s something definitely wrong.” He laid down his pencil. “Did you know the police said whoever killed that horse overdosed it with cocaine? During our event, Jim. Cocaine. Doyou know how that looks, how it’s going to look to everybody when word gets out?”
“Well,wedidn’t do it, so it’s notourfault,” Jimmy answered. “And regardless what everybody says, we have no proof Max did it. But that’s the least of our worries. We need the money this sponsorship will provide, so just sign the goddamn contract already.”
“I’m not signing that contract. Get that right out of your head. It’s not happening,” Dale said, slamming his flattened palm on the desk. “And you can go to the board of directors if you want to, but they’ll side with me. They always do. Unlike their feelings for you, theytrustme,” he said. “Now, like I said, I’ve got to get back to work. We’ve got checks that have to be signed.”
“Fine. But you’re making a huge mistake,” Jimmy said as he got up and left the office. When the door closed behind him, Dale breathed a sigh of relief. There was a feeling in the air, something he couldn’t identify, almost like a crackling of electricity, the kind that hits before a tornado. Something was coming, something bad, and he didn’t know what it was, but he knew it was on its way. He just prayed everybody could survive it.
Max was waitingin an ancillary hallway as Jimmy walked out of the office and he stepped up beside the co-owner of the association. “Well? Is he going to sign that contract or not?”
“First,” Jimmy said, rounding on him and folding his arms across his chest, “the answer to that is a big fat no. Second, I can’t be seen with you. You’ve been accused of overdosing ahorse, Barlow, on cocaine, of all things. Do you know how that looks?”
