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Carson laughed. “You’re still hooked on Law and Order, aren’t you?”
“They’ve got the reruns on cable,” Grandad said. “I already paid for the service; I just need you to hook everything up.”
“You know, the cable company can do that for you.”
“Not when my boy’s coming in town.”
Right . . .
“Lunch is ready,” Grandad announced, pouring two even bowls of the bubbling chili. Then he proceeded to crush the soda crackers over the top like a garnish.
Carson dug in. It wasn’t bad for canned chili, and although he didn’t add Tabasco sauce like Grandad did, it hit the spot.
“Oh, hey, I almost forgot. Mrs. Prosper invited us for dinner tonight. I said I’d talk to you first.”
Grandad’s brow wrinkled. “How did that invitation come about?”
So Carson told him the basics of giving Evie Prosper a ride.
“Evie? I haven’t met her. I met the other sister, Cara or something, and she’s not your type.”
Carson almost choked on his current spoonful of chili. He swallowed and cleared his throat. “I’m not looking for a girlfriend, Grandad.”
Grandad set down his spoon, then took a long swig from his water glass. “It’s been two years, son. You haven’t dated anyone since Stacee.”
Carson blinked. Grandad had never mentioned Stacee before, at least not since they broke up after Rhett died. He didn’t realize it was something Grandad had been thinking about.
“How do you know I haven’t been dating?” Carson asked, feeling a bit defensive.
Grandad’s brown eyes had lost all their twinkle. “I know you better than you think, boy. It’s in your demeanor when I see you, your tone when we talk on the phone.”
“That I’m not dating?” Carson said, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “How so?”
Grandad merely grunted, then turned from the counter and rustled for something in the pantry. “Here you go,” he said, producing an old, beat-up cowboy hat. The only redeeming quality was that it was in better shape than the one Grandad currently wore. “Got ya something. It’ll keep the sun off that lily-white face of yours.”
“Uh, thanks,” Carson said, taking the hat, then setting it atop his head. It had been a while since he’d donned a cowboy hat. He had his brother’s in his apartment back in San Antonio.
“Now you look like you belong in Prosper,” Grandad said.
“About that,” Carson said. “You know this visit is not a commitment yet, right?”
Grandad waved a calloused hand. “Finish your chili, then we’ve got to get moving. Why don’t you drive?”
“Sure thing,” Carson said. And that’s how it was between him and Grandad.
The rodeo arena was larger than Carson expected, and as he walked around it, Grandad talked about upgrading the concessions, adding an extra parking lot on the south side, and other things, but Carson’s attention had been distracted by the framed photos in the manager’s office.
A couple of the pictures were of a bull rider named Knox Prosper.
Carson studied the action shots. This was Evie’s older brother.
“You’ve heard of Knox Prosper?” Grandad asked, coming to stand by him.
“Not until I met Evie,” Carson said. “I guess I’m not up to date on the rodeo circuit.”
“Knox Prosper is a legend in this town, or at least he was until he had a falling out with his father.”
“The mayor? Really?”
