“He’s good,” I say. “Real good.”
“That’s the point.” Grant flips the folder closed. “Tex has a strong following, but bringing in someone like Tripp creates hype. Competition makes people talk. People talking means ticket sales.”
Ruth nods. “And if the festival grows, the whole town benefits.”
I tap my boot against the leg of the chair. “Tex won’t like this.”
Grant stiffens for a moment. “He’ll manage.”
“You sure about that?” I ask.
“I’m sure that this is the right call for the festival,” he says. “And Tex is a professional. He’ll rise to the challenge.”
I don’t argue. Not because I agree, but because arguing won’t change where Grant’s aiming. He’s always thinking five years ahead. He’s always looking for what will bring cash and attention to the valley.
And riding against another cowboy isn’t a problem for Tex—unless the guy is famous enough to change the entire energy of an arena.
Ruth smooths the sleeve of her blazer. “I can already imagine the posters. Tripp Hollister in Prairie Pine? That’d get people from two counties over.”
Grant lights up. “Exactly.”
I look between them, then drop my gaze to the folder. Grant didn’t bring me in here to ask permission. He brought me in as a courtesy.
Like telling me ahead of time will help soften the blow when this news gets out. Or when Tex finds out.
Grant’s phone buzzes. He checks it, pockets it, and says, “I’m meeting with Tripp’s agent later this week. If all goes well, we’ll set a date for him to visit the arena, check out the grounds, and meet the sponsor committee.”
Ruth beams. “This could change everything.”
“It could,” Grant echoes.
I take a slow breath, watching Grant’s excitement spark. Watching Ruth picture numbers and benefits. Watching the town they’re trying to grow in ways that didn’t seem possible ten years ago.
“So,” Grant says, folding his hands. “What do you think?”
I choose my words carefully. “I think he’s a hell of a rider.”
Grant nods, expecting more.
“And I think Tex will have opinions.”
Ruth laughs again, softer this time. “Of course he will. He’s Tex.”
“And that’s why I’m telling you now,” Grant adds. “I want to bring in someone who’ll push him. Someone who’ll raise the bar. He’s already good, but this could make him better.”
“He’s not going to see it that way,” I say.
Grant sighs. “Then maybe you talk to him.”
“Me?”
“You know him better than anyone.”
I shift, crossing my arms again. “I’ll talk to him. But I’m not promising he’ll be thrilled.”
“I wouldn’t expect him to be,” Grant says. “Just give him the facts. If I send this out in a newsletter, he’ll feel blindsided. Better he hears it from someone he trusts.”
I grunt in agreement. Ruth looks between the two of us like she knows there’s a storm brewing even before anything has been said out loud.
