Page 66 of Don't Burn Bridges
The thought nearly made him snort.
What the hell did he know about being someone’s boyfriend? He hadn't had a quote-unquote girlfriend since high school, and that felt like a lifetime ago.
Before he could decide whether to ask, the last of the storefronts and houses gave way to open fields and pastureland. Shylo let out a slow breath, some of the tension easing from her shoulders as she looked out across the countryside. “So, does the Rodeo Bonanza create much extra work for the ranch?”
The change was immediate. Her entire demeanor had brightened. Whatever had been on her mind in town seemed to have loosened its grip.
The question he'd been about to ask quietly faded away.
“Not really. We all pitch in somewhere—most of the town does—and except for daily chores, things are put on hold at the Triple-R for a few days.” He lifted a hand to the driver of an approaching pickup. Shane's best friend, Drake Hadley, returned the wave as they passed each other.
“I heard a few locals compete in some of the events. Anyone from the ranch?”
“Tucker does. He's in the bronc riding every year.”
“Really? He's that good?”
“Yeah. He could've gone pro years ago if he'd wanted to. Won enough buckles and prize money to prove it at the semi-pro level. But the pro circuit would've kept him on the road most of the year, and family comes first with Tucker.”
“That doesn't surprise me.” She shifted in her seat, angling herself toward him. “What about you? Do you compete?”
He shook his head. “Not anymore. I broke my collarbone getting tossed by a bronc years ago and decided I'd rather keep all my bones where they belong. Getting back on an animal that doesn't want me on its back stopped sounding like a good idea.”
“Probably a wise decision.”
“One of the other ranch hands, Finn McAllister, competes in the bull riding, though,” he said. “And don't let Lou fool you. She'll spend all year acting like barrel racing is no big deal, then go out there and make half the competition look bad.”
A grin tugged at Shylo's lips. “I heard something like that. I'll have to make sure I catch her run. And Tucker's ride.”
“You won't have any trouble. Half the town shows up for both.”
“So, what do you do at the rodeo if you’re not competing?”
He shrugged. “Whatever Marla Oberman or anyone else on the Bonanza committee tells me to do. Parking, cleanup, hauling supplies, setting up fencing... if it needs doing, somebody does it. Paige usually ends up in the ticket booth with Nicole and Tucker's sister, Lila.”
“It sounds like everybody gets involved.”
“They do. That's part of what makes it such a big deal around here.”
The conversation drifted from there to everything else the Rodeo Bonanza had to offer. Seth described the carnival rides, the food vendors, and the little kids trying to hang on to a sheep during mutton busting while proud parents cheered louder than anyone else in the arena. He told her about the pie and chili competitions, the FFA livestock judging, and the rows of prize-winning pigs, sheep, and calves that drew as much interest from some folks as the rodeo itself.
By the time the entrance to the Triple-R came into view, the conversation flowed as naturally as it had during their dinner in Wexler, her laughter coming just as easily.
He liked to think being with him had something to do with it. That, for a little while at least, he could distract her from whatever had been troubling her.
“I'll probably wander over to Bar None's booth a few times,” he said as he parked the truck in his usual spot beside the bunkhouse.
She arched an eyebrow. “To check on me?”
“I was thinking more about the chili.”
“Liar.”
He chuckled. “Maybe a little.”
She was still smiling as they headed toward the main house.
The familiar scent of brisket and fresh-baked rolls greeted them the moment they stepped inside.
