Page 7 of Roping My Rival
My mouth drops open. “What? Why?”
“Keep your voice down, Warren.” Jesse looks around, but no one is nearby to hear us. “We aren’t getting along, and I’m not sure how much longer we’ll be together.”
“Shit. I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. I don’t want to talk about it now, okay? This is Dad’s night.”
“Yeah, of course. Just…when you do, I’m here, okay?”
Our other dad, Gabe, who I called Pops because he was always so much bubblier than Dad, sees us and makes his way through the crowd to us.
“Boys, great job. He’s so happy.” He hesitates for a moment. “You told Clarence, right?”
“Yes, we told Clary.” I huff. “And I reminded him this afternoon. He assured me he’d—”
The doors of the building open and slam closed.
“Speak of the devil. Nice, he’s only an hour late this time,” I grumble.
Jesse elbows me. “Be nice, Warren. He has a job too.”
“Hey.” Our youngest brother, Clarence, still in his pressed suit and fancy tie from the office, comes over. Pops hugs him, of course, and so does Jesse. When it’s my turn, I give him a nod.
“Thanks for showing up,” I snap.
“Not now,” Jesses hisses and elbows me again.
“I had an important client. I couldn’t just walk out on him, Warren.”
“You could’ve blocked the whole afternoon off like we did.” Honestly, sometimes I think he looks down on us because we don’t wear suits to work. I know that’s not true, but right now it certainly feels like it.
“I don’t have that luxury.”
“You’re the boss, Clarence!”
“Boys,” Pops cuts in and takes Clarence by the elbow. “Your dad will be happy to see you. Come and wish him congratulations.”
After they’re both out of earshot, Jesse sighs.
“We all have to work together to run this thing now that Dad is officially retired. Are you always going to fight with him? He’s our brother.”
“I’ll try, but…” Jesse’s big brown eyes always get me. “For you, I will,” I concede. He’ll hold me to it like he always does.
“Awesome. Let’s mingle and let these people know we have what it takes to take over from Dad.”
Jesse wanders into the crowd assembled in the rodeo ring. We’d set up the ring with a floating floor, chairs and tables, and even a buffet. Complete with hot dogs just for dad. I’ve yet to meet someone who loves hot dogs more than him.
I head in the opposite direction from Jesse. Away from the familiar faces and into the people who were invited from a guest list Pops gave me.
“Hi, thank you for coming. I’m Warren Burke, Hunter’s oldest son.” I offer my hand to the older man, and he shakes it with a grip as strong as a vise.
“Pleasure to meet you, Warren. I’m Henry Miskew. I used to own the property near the ranch before you boys came along. Your dad helped me out a fair bit when the weather went bad.”
“Oh, I remember Dad telling me about a few Percherons that used to escape into our field. Is that you?”
He booms a hearty laugh. “That’s me. Sometimes I miss those idiots.” He laughs again before taking a drink from his red plastic cup. “This business he’s built is incredible. Many people in this town didn’t think he’d amount to anything, but I knew he had it in him. He’s a good man, your dad.”
I know he’s a good man. Nobody needs to convince me of that.
