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“I’ll check the board after we take care of the horses,” he said, slowing down Buckley to a walk. “How about we do a run-down?”
“Without Pops?” Adam sat back in his saddle, stopping Turbo.
“We shouldn’t bother him. He had treatments today,” Austin said, not wanting to go there, not wanting to think about Pops. He just needed to focus on the rodeo events…that would get him through.
“I think it’d be an excellent distraction for him,” Adam said as he urged Turbo to catch up to him. “Mama said we needed to keep him distracted.”
“Fine, but this evening, after he’s home and resting,” Austin said. “We should go over them first, don’t you think? While it’s still fresh in our mind?”
“Fine,” Adam mimicked, hopping off Turbo and leading him toward the gate. “Let’s go, slave driver.”
“Hey,” Austin said. “I’m not asking more than what we normally do. We always breakdown the event.”
“Why can’t we just enjoy the win for once, bro? Why is it all business to you?” Adam said, then hearing his name being called, he turned.
Austin followed his gaze to a group of girls dressed up and smiling flirtatiously, motioning them over. He took Turbo’s reins from Adam’s hand. “Go. Have your fun, but keep the event fresh in your mind. We’ll do the breakdown when you’re done flirting.”
“I’m not flirting,” he said indignantly. “This is PR.”
Austin smiled despite himself, shaking his head at his younger brother. He led the horses to the stables, playing the competition through his mind, looking for any way to cut off a fraction of a second, or at least to repeat it. That’s the thing. When everything lined up, they hit a mark like this…but when it didn’t line up, they didn’t. How could he ensure everything was lined up every time?
Austin glanced up as he came to Turbo’s stall. A man stood there in a slick black western suit, felt cowboy hat (in the middle of summer), and a cheesy smile. His appearance put Austin off, though his curiosity got the better of him. He tipped his head to the man as he led Turbo into his stall, then walked Buckley around the stranger to his stall.
“Austin Bowman?” the man asked, looking down the aisle. “Is your brother coming?”
“Eventually,” Austin said, shutting the gate and leaning against it to peer at the slick cowboy. “How can I help you?”
“Oh,” the guy said, pulling at his bolo tie. “It’s not how you can help me, but how I can help you and your brother.”
Austin raised an eyebrow. He’d heard of slickers like this pestering the top competitors, but he had never experienced it himself. Yet…he hesitated, needing more information before he made a judgment call. “How’s that?”
“Sponsorship.” The man grinned like he was delivering a brand new rig to Austin.
Austin dropped his shoulders. He hadn’t thought about being sponsored for a long time, but that would give them more money to support Pops’ treatments. “I’m listening.”
“I thought you might,” the man said, holding out his hand. “Bill Holiday.”
Austin shook the hand, instantly recognizing the smooth hand of a man who didn’t do hard work. Well, at least not on a ranch. He wondered if the guy even rode. “What company do you represent?”
“I’m a broker for several, actually. We’ve been watching you and your brother. Rising stars, you are.” Bill winked. “Everyone has their eye on you two, thinking you’ll be breaking the current world record at Nationals.”
Austin folded his arms again. “And if we don’t?”
Bill shrugged. “Everyone will be watching you, whether or not you do. That’s all that matters to the people I represent.”
“Makes sense.” Austin studied the man. He had an instant distrust for salesmen, but the thought of the money helping Pops spurred him on. “So, what are the parameters?”
Bill’s grin grew. “You and your brother just keep doing what you’re doing, but you do it with patches on your jackets or shirts and hats. Of course, a commercial could be considered…?”
A commercial? Austin narrowed his eyes. He’d never considered making a commercial before, and the idea made him feel like he had stepped into a swarm of red ants. “What would we be advertising?”
“Oh, that depends on the deal or deals, I get you. All you have to do is say the word, and I’ll broker you as many deals as you would like. You two are the hot sauce right now.” Bill rubbed his hands together.
“I’ll have to talk to my brother,” Austin said, and check you out. “Who else have you worked with that I’d know?”
Bill’s grin faltered momentarily, but he pulled it right back up. “Oh, I’m sure you know several of my clients.”
“Such as?” Austin stepped toward him.
