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“Then you mooned the state cop,” Merry said. “It’s kind of hard to come back from flashing your ass and spending the night in the drunk tank.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Been there, done that.” Merry grinned.
“Yeah, but you can get away with that because you’re a Wild Grayson Sister.”
“You just have to find out who you are. Maybe we can make you an honorary Grayson sister,” Dolly said, thoughtfully.
“No,” Reba said firmly. “She’s our sister and she’s just fine the way she is. To hell with Sierra Boots.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Merry said.
“To hell with them,” LeAnn agreed, clinking glasses with them again.
“There are other sponsors,” Merry said. “You should try Cowboy Couture. They like a little outlaw cowgirl attitude.”
“Why didn’t you have them as a sponsor?” LeAnn asked.
“They wanted someone a little more family friendly.”
That could be her. LeAnn looked over at Dolly, but she didn’t seem to be focusing on the details right now. That was okay. They could work on that angle over the next few rodeos.
Chapter Nineteen
Montana—August
The next few weeks were grueling as they went from rodeo to rodeo. Some nights Dylan and LeAnn spent huddled together in a cheap hotel room. Other nights they drove in their separate trucks straight on to the next event, taking turns calling each other to make sure they both stayed awake.
Dylan was worried about LeAnn. She was winning, but she was pushing herself too hard. It was difficult not to see shades of Johnny Montana in the way she was driven to ride stronger and harder.
The arrived in Montana after spending most of the week driving so there hadn’t been a lot of time to train, but he was confident that LeAnn’s head was in the game. As for himself, the pain in his ribs had faded to a dull ache that never quite went away and he had developed a slight limp when it rained and his knees ached. It worried him only because the money was running out, even with his salary from Mr. Hickory, and he needed to work harder to win more events.
He stopped charging LeAnn for coaching, though. It didn’t seem right now that they were in a relationship. Besides, he had given her a binder with exercises and practice routines to go through. All she had to do was stick to it and he’d be happy to give her feedback and pointers for free.
She complained at first, but he told her he’d just spend the money on her anyway, and he would have trained her whether she was paying him or not. LeAnn made him promise to look for another coaching job, but for the moment, the salary Mr. Hickory was paying him was keeping them both afloat. The long hours on the highway were beginning to take a toll on him and all he wanted to do was sleep.
When they got to Montana, his uncle had been waiting for him with a fancy-looking horse.
“Who’s this beauty?” Dylan said, rubbing the palomino’s neck.
“That’s Queenie. She cost a fortune, so don’t break her.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” She wasn’t Lola and never would be, but she was young and spirited.
“She knows her stuff too. Your aunt picked her out.”
“I’ll call her later and thank her.” Dylan didn’t want to push his luck, but his father hadn’t called him back. He had sent the business plan out to him a month ago. He’d called and left a message to make sure he received it, but his father hadn’t responded. “Have you spoken to Dad lately?”
“Yeah, the other day. He’s looking at resorts in Montego Bay to take your mom to this winter.”
But he’d said nothing about the ranch. Dylan should have known not to get his hopes up. His father could have at least had the decency to turn him down rather than ghost him. But he couldn’t complain, not when his uncle had just given him a gorgeous new horse to use in bulldogging and other events.
“Thanks,” Dylan said.
“You can thank me with a percentage check,” Lou said and gave him a wave.
Mr. Hickory had flown out to Montana and was in his spiffy brand-new cowboy boots and jeans when they met at the corral later that day. Dylan felt like an unmade bed next to him. He needed another cup of coffee and probably a shave, but it was more important to let Mr. Hickory know what he’d decided about his bulls.
