Page 32 of A Cowboy to Call Her Own

Approval spread across the mayor’s thin face. “I knew your family would not let us down.”

Kelley only hoped she would not let her sisters down.

“It makes my chest swell to see this town coming together,” the mayor stated proudly and studied the parade list once more. “Now, by my count we need one more float to guarantee Gold Finch a spot in the top three. We can’t miss out on being included inMorning Gallop’sNot To Be Missed Round-Upand also highlighted on their website and in their weekend happenings newsletter.”

Excitement filled the diner.

Kelley hesitated. The Munroe sisters had not been the only family not on the parade float list. She could think of one other.

The mayor’s words were pensive and deliberate. “Used to be we could count on all our local families in times like these.”

Silence spread over the dining area like the expectant hush before the bell at the starting gate on derby day.

The mayor tapped his finger against the clipboard. “However, I also don’t see the Blackwells on this list.”

Someone cleared their throat. Another person coughed.

Kelley peered at Asher.

Big E set his hand on Asher’s shoulder.

Asher tapped the brim of his hat higher on his head. His expression was contained. Confidence spread through his words. “Mr. Mayor, you can still count on the Blackwell family. Same as always.”

“I mean no disrespect,” Mayor Corbin said and shifted to face Asher. “But you’re gonna have to prove that.”

Kelley winced.

Asher never flinched. He said mildly, “How much do you need?”

“Son, you can keep your checkbook,” the mayor said, then clutched the clipboard tighter and added, “What we need is a Blackwell float.”

Asher wiped his hand over his mouth and said carefully, “A float.”

The mayor nodded. “There was a time not too long ago when a Blackwell float was in every parade.”

“That was my mom’s doing.” Asher’s gaze tracked straight to Kelley and stuck as if he was only talking to her. “July Fourth was one of my mother’s favorite holidays.”

“What a nice way to honor your mother, then,” Rosalind Sterling murmured.

“Can we count on the Blackwells, then?” the mayor pressed.

Asher held Kelley’s gaze and nodded. “You can.”

That sounded like a private promise to her. Kelley exhaled and remembered she stopped being fanciful and foolish the day she signed her divorce papers. Asher Blackwell was getting involved, but not with Kelley.

Two more rounds of coffee refills and the meeting finally concluded. Mayor Corbin and Rosalind Sterling moved to intercept Asher to shake his hand and thank him for his parade participation. The duo called Kelley over to join them.

“Now then, Asher, you will need an approved parade float. We started the safety inspections a few years back after an unfortunate trailer hitch debacle,” Rosalind explained and tapped her eyeglasses up her nose. “I don’t suppose you have a trailer, do you, Asher?”

Asher glanced at Big E. The older cowboy shrugged, and Asher replied, “It’s doubtful.”

“Herman Whittaker has a backup trailer inspected and ready for duty,” Mayor Corbin offered. “You’ll be wanting to see him this afternoon.”

Asher suddenly looked worried. His nod was more automatic than confident.

“I seem to recall there was some history between Herman and the Blackwell boys,” Lynette Arbor piped up, then quickly waved her hands. “But I’m sure it’s long since forgotten.”

Doubt spread across Asher’s face.