The Cowboy Meets His Match. Leann Harris

The Cowboy Meets His Match - Leann  Harris


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had been the final tally of the board members? She knew Melvin hadn’t voted for her. Of course, his daughter thought Erin was a cross between Godzilla and Cinderella’s stepmother, but that stemmed from Traci’s unreasonable fear that Erin would steal back Traci’s husband, since he’d been Erin’s high school sweetheart. Andy had wanted to marry Erin, but she hadn’t wanted to settle down so soon. Going to college had been her goal but, no matter what she said to Andy, he never took her seriously. Traci often told Erin what a good catch Andy was and why not marry him? Traci thought Erin had lost her marbles not to take up Andy’s offer. The instant he broke up with Erin, Traci swept in and captured her man. Erin had not been invited to the wedding even though it had been a Christmas affair. When Erin returned home the first time after she started college, Traci made it clear their friendship was over, much to Erin’s surprise. Why Traci acted the way she did, Erin didn’t understand. She got her man and Erin got to go to college.

      How many other members of the board had followed Mel’s lead in voting for Sawyer? Why had they voted for an outsider instead of a hometown girl? That’s what hurt the most.

      It’s business, the logical part of her brain argued, but her heart said the vote was against her personally, not her proposal.

      Pulling off the main road, she drove down the drive to the ranch house and parked her truck under the covered carport and breezeway that ran from the kitchen to the barn.

      She didn’t go into the house, and instead walked to the corral behind the barn to see her horse, Wind Dancer. The moment the horse saw Erin, she trotted over to the fence and head butted her.

      Reaching out, Erin stroked the horse’s neck. “Did you miss me, girl? I’m sure Santo took care of you.” The horse arched her neck and then raced around the ring, coming to a stop in front of her.

      Looking down at her long skirt and boots, she realized she needed to change. “Give me a minute, Dancer, and I’ll be back.”

      It took less than five minutes for her to grab her bag from the truck, change into jeans and race back outside. Her brother, Tate, hadn’t come home from school yet, and Erin didn’t know where her aunt Betty was, but they’d show up.

      Erin didn’t bother with a saddle. She grabbed reins and a halter, opened the gate and slipped them on Dancer. Erin hopped on Dancer and rode out of the corral. Horse and rider started slowly, and then Erin leaned close to the horse’s neck as Dancer picked up speed. They were in their element, racing across the high desert, dancing on the wind.

      Erin could feel herself touch the face of heaven, giving up her wound and the hurt of not winning the contract to reorganize the rodeo.

      Finally, Dancer slowed to a walk and stopped. Leaning over, Erin rested her head on the horse’s neck. “I was blindsided when I walked into that meeting, girl. Felt as naked as the day I was born.” She sat up. “So what am I going to do now?” She looked to heaven. “I need some direction here, Lord. I don’t know what to do, but I know I’m not giving up.” She thought for a moment and remembered the look of admiration in Sawyer’s eyes when she’d initially faced off with Mel. There was something about the man that intrigued her and drew her. It didn’t make sense, but then nothing in the past few days did. It was one of those times when you just held on to God and knew He’d guide you through the storm.

      “Of course, Bob did set up the meeting tonight, so I need some wisdom there.”

      The instant the words were out of her mouth, she knew what she needed to do and that wasn’t feeling sorry for herself.

      * * *

      Sawyer finished storing his things in the room and remembered how Erin had watched him as he’d registered at the historic motel and surveyed his room. If he didn’t miss his guess, she’d thought he’d call uncle and go to one of the newer chains. As he’d played along and taken the room, he’d discovered that he liked it. She intrigued him. He didn’t know what he’d expected when she’d appeared in the conference room, but it wasn’t the woman he encountered. He didn’t know quite what to make of her, but he had a feeling he’d find out. He’d walk cautiously around her until he knew what to expect. Would she be fair—or fight dirty like his mom and last girlfriend? He’d had enough of clingy and manipulative women.

      Walking back to the lobby, Sawyer found Lencho hadn’t moved from the desk and his homework.

      “Is the room okay?”

      Oddly enough, the room had the feeling of home—strong, sturdy, something that would be there for a long time. He hadn’t had that experience growing up until his big brother had taken responsibility for the two of them. “It’s great.”

      The kid studied him as if he didn’t believe his ears.

      “What I need are directions to the rodeo fairgrounds.”

      Lencho pointed to the brochure stand in the corner of the room. “You’ll find maps there.”

      Sawyer retrieved a brochure and laid it out on the counter.

      “So you beat out Erin for the rodeo job?”

      Sawyer looked up and studied the youth. “I did.”

      “I’m surprised. I mean, everyone in town knows if you need something done, Erin’s the one who can do it. And she always comes through.”

      “So I hear.” He had his work cut out for him to win people over. “But maybe the board wanted someone who isn’t familiar with anything here to look at the situation with new eyes. Suppose you’re looking at one of your equations and can’t see how to solve it. You’ve worked and worked on how to get the answer, then someone else looks at it and sees where you’ve gone wrong and points it out. The same is true with the rodeo. Maybe someone who’s not familiar with it can see a problem, or even just do it a different way, and solve the situation.”

      Lencho thought about it. “That makes sense.”

      Sawyer studied the map to orient himself with the streets.

      Pointing to where they were, Lencho said, “Go down to First Street, turn right, and when you get to US 66, turn west and on the outskirts of town you should find the fairgrounds.”

      “Thanks.”

      He followed Lencho’s directions and, within ten minutes, found the grounds. On the north side sat the rodeo arena with chutes and corrals, and on the south side stood the football field. In between the two sat a midway with accompanying food stands and game booths.

      After parking his truck, he walked through the grounds, inspecting the facility. It wasn’t in bad shape but needed upgrades. He pulled out his cell phone and took pictures to document the conditions. As he stood on the bleachers, he could imagine Erin on her horse, flying around the barrels in the main arena. He would have liked to see that.

      The thought caught him off guard. He was the last person on earth she’d want to run into, he imagined, unless it was an opportunity to offer her suggestions. Still, he would’ve loved to watch her race. Maybe he could in the future.

      He sat and pulled a small notebook out of his shirt pocket and jotted some notes. Later, when he was back in his room, he’d update his PowerPoint, giving his initial thoughts, and incorporate the pictures he took this afternoon, pointing out how he’d redo the midway and food stands. He put the phone in his shirt pocket and headed back to his truck. He wanted to assess the roads leading into the rodeo grounds, which needed to be included in his overall plan, but as he drove away, he kept thinking of seeing Erin ride. When he worked on a rodeo, he never let his personal feelings interfere. There were a couple of times when the ladies he’d worked with wanted to take the relationship to another level, but he never did.

      But this time—he stopped the thought cold.

      What was wrong with him? Since his brother’s wedding, Sawyer had been having all sorts of weird thoughts, and he chalked up his reaction to Erin as post-wedding blues. Did men get those? Surely that was the explanation.

      * * *


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