Page 12 of Roping My Rival

Jesse runs his fingers down the side of his beer can as he smiles, but something has him less relaxed than he was a moment ago.

“I pitched an idea to my brothers for this place. We have a lull two weeks before the rodeo school starts up. Sure, we could use it as downtime for maintenance, but we’ve stayed on top of things well enough.” He takes a drink and bounces his knee. Whatever he needs me for is causing friction with his family.

“Listen, Jesse, you’re a good guy, but whatever your brothers didn’t green-light seems to upset you. Maybe I shouldn’t get involved and just call it a day.”

Especially if it means Warren being extra pissed when he learns I’m involved.

“It’s just…we do so little for the cattle farmers. We train for rodeo, we hire stock contractors for the school, and we send business to the community for hotel bookings and restaurants. There’s an older guy who breeds Angus, and he’s been struggling…”

Jesse and I could be kindred spirits. I recognize the way he hesitates and shifts, like his skin is too tight. No one likes to ask for help.

“Jesse, what does he need?”

“He needs help.” He runs a hand through his messy hair. “Many of the farmers do. The cost to bring cattle to the auction house in the city is high, and a few of the ranchers are getting up there in years. They don’t like to drive, or the cost to hire one cuts into their profits too much. Then some of the other farmers with meat animals heard of my offer and,”—Jesse shrugs—“we can use the building as an auction house for a week, but it’s a lot of work. Clarence is no help, and Warren—”

“Is Warren,” I finish. Jesse doesn’t need to explain. Warren just needs to breathe in my space to unsettle me. I can only imagine what it’s like to have him as a brother.

“He doesn’t like to see animals at auction. He’s been ignoring me about it, and it’s too late to back out. Can you help?”

Warren’s brother wants me to replace him and help. I’m not sure how I feel about it, but I guarantee it won’t make Warren happy.

“I’ll pay you a base pay that was approved for the budget, but I’m offering you a share in the earnings. Rather than charge a set fee, I asked the farmers to pay 20% of their earnings from the auction to the school. I’ll give you 5% of that on top of the wage.”

Quick math has me raise an eyebrow. “You sure about that? Beef prices are high right now.”

“Yeah, I’m sure. It’s a lot of work, and I don’t have enough hands on deck to help with it. I’d like to sleep sometime in the next week.”

This could be such a huge boost to my bank account for Darla. If the auction goes well, the long days will be worth it.

“Can I get your offer in writing?”

Jesse grins and pulls a sheet of paper off the printer. He handwrites the entire offer on it and signs it with a flourish. “Is that good enough for you?”

After reading it, I motion for a pen and sign the bottom with a date. “Want a copy, or can I keep this one?”

Jesse shakes his head. “Keep it. I know what I wrote and that we’re good for it. They’re gonna wish they helped. This is a good thing for everyone in Kissing Ridge.”

We stand and shake hands.

“It’s good for me, and I’m not about to walk away from it. I’m sure the auction will work well, Jesse. It’s nice to care about the community, and I’m happy to help.” Even if it means Warren will be less than pleased.

“You’re a lifesaver, Dane. See you Monday at 6 A.M. The auction starts at 8.”

“I’ll be here.”

After seeing myself out, I step into the darkness of an early April evening. With a hundred dollars in my pocket and a job lined up to bridge the income gap, I figure it’s a great time to take a night to myself for good food and maybe companionship.

After hopping into my truck, I head to the local bar. Renewed optimism blooms in my chest. Perhaps things will work out after all.

How many missed calls do I have from my brother?

I told him I didn’t want to do an auction, and he did it anyway, since Clarence didn’t have the guts to cast a deciding vote. I’m a farm boy. I know this is how beef farmers and pork producers and everyone else make money. I eat meat. It’s not that.

My hand strokes the floppy ears of my bunny, Nibbles. It just makes me sad. The shitty memories attached to auctions are too much for me to get past.

A knock sounds at my bedroom door, interrupting my thoughts. “Come in.”

Dad peeks his head in, no doubt searching for rabbits, before stepping in and closing the door behind him. He immediately sits on the floor across from me. He taps his fingers on the floor, and my other rabbit, Hops, comes to him.