Page 119 of Wild Rose
“Um, I’ll let you know. Never know what trouble I’ll be up to that night.”
He chuckles. “Always time to get into trouble after you eat. Come on by, Dad and Wilder are cooking, and you can listen toyour brother play judge.”
“Well then, I’ll be there.”
“Terrific, Wilder will pick you up.” Then he hands the phone back to my boss.
“Hey.”
“I’m going to get back to work,” I say quickly, convincing myself—and maybe him—that I don’t need his reaction to the invitation.
“Rose,” he starts, a warning in his tone. “Don’t engage with the guys. If they’re not doing what they’re supposed to be, just let me know when I get back, all right?”
“How is that productive, Wilder?”
He sighs. “You know what, forget it, I’ve got a buddy in town—I’ll ask him to do it.”
“Wow, that’s not insulting at all.”
Another sigh. “A drive-by. That’s it,” he growls.
“Go be with your brother. I’ll see you later.”
He grumbles when I don’t give him my promise.
After we hang up, I work on my usual morning tasks, going through mail, following up with vendors and preparing a blank rotation schedule for next week for Wilder to fill in later.
Adrive-by.
How is a drive-by discreet? I’ll go on foot.
Leaving my golf cart in front of the Saddle Room, I head to the stables. I’ll just go see if Randy and Barry are there and then head back. Just like Wilder asked.
When I reach the building, I move carefully along the side, eyes roaming the edge to where the cowboys are supposed to be mucking out stalls.
I hear a lot of what sounds like shit-talking, but I can’t decipher who it’s about. Until I do.
“This is some bullshit, I tell you. I’ve been here sixteen years—back when Connor had rodeos at least once a season.”
I frown. “What?” I cover my mouth, then move around toward the front to see if I can hear more. What I’m not hearing is any shoveling.
“Maybe they don’t got the money for it now. It ain’t cheap,” Barry points out.
“But it brings in business. I always liked Dallas, but he’s getting weak. They all are. Perhaps it’s time to move on.”
“His fiancée just died.”
“I meant for me.”
Barry grumbles in response then pulls himself off the floor where he and Randy have been resting.
Randy doesn’t stand; he’s picking at his fingernails, and I wonder how much work everyone else does while he just sits around.
With a heavy sigh, I turn to leave before anyone sees me. Then a voice drawls behind me.
“Y’know, if you wanted to watch me sweat, darlin’, you could’ve just pulled up a chair.”
Heat floods my cheeks as I spin around.
