Page 12 of Austin
Someone who could help.
Austin.
Bad idea.Verybad idea.
He’d offered to help… Had he meant it?
Even if he had, she’d tossed his offer right back at him. Would he want to help now?
Would it hurt to ask?
According to the American Extreme Bull Riders schedule, he was going to Salt Lake City for his next tour stop. Maybe…
Kristen pulled out her phone and pulled up a search engine. There was a small touring bus line that ran a route from SLC to Livingston, passing through Marietta on its way. It was called Montana…something.
Montana Vista Tour Line.
And the ticket was a quarter of the cost of the other ticket. Almost affordable.
“Do you have an idea?” Lynn asked.
Kristen looked up from her phone. “I might.” What in the world did she have to lose by asking Austin for a lift to Salt Lake? Her pride? She’d dropped that along the wayside when she’d climbed into that saloon girl outfit and pasted a fake smile on her face for money.
And maybe she owed Austin some penance, too.
He probably thought so.
“I ran into a hometown acquaintance at the casino yesterday. He’s going to Salt Lake City soon. He might be able to help me out.”
“Ask him,” Lynn said with an encouraging smile. “What would it hurt?”
“Right. I’ll ask him,” Kristen said. Why not? All it would take was exactly what her sister had suggested—a huge portion of humble pie.
*
Austin smiled athis last signee, a kid in his early teens, dressed in beat-up cowboy boots and jeans and a brand new American Extreme Bull Riders ball cap. It’d been a busy signing day for his sponsor—a couple of hours at the local Boot Barn that afternoon, and then an hour on the concourse before the big event. Now it was get-into-his-head time.
“Austin.”
His back stiffened at the sound of the familiar voice.Son of a bitch.Really?
He turned to find Kristen Alexander walking toward him across the concourse, wearing worn jeans and an oversized Nevada Wolf Pack sweatshirt. She slowed as she approached, looking both determined and nervous.
“You want an autograph?” he asked as she came to a stop a few feet away from him.
“I have nothing to sign.” She pushed her long reddish-brown hair over her shoulder, looking patently self-conscious. Had she come to apologize? To ask him once again to keep his mouth shut?
“That doesn’t slow a lot of women down.” He’d been asked to sign some interesting things…and places.
She caught his meaning, tipped up her chin. “Thank you. I don’t need an autograph.”
He shifted his weight onto his good hip, folded his arms over his chest. Basically took on his in-your-face bull rider stance. “Whatdoyou need?”
“I need a ride to Salt Lake City.”
Not anything close to what he’d been expecting. “Why?”
“I got fired. Again.” The words barely made it out of her mouth before she pressed it tightly shut again and swallowed. She was going to cry. If it had been anyone else, he would have been more affected. She blinked a few times and managed to regain her composure. “I need to go home.”
