But had his pitch for the rodeo been merely his excuse to see her?
Calvin was staring at him again.
Obviously, Dallas was on his own with the rodeo. He’d counted on his charm to gain Lizzie’s support, and he knew few other people in town except—the thought suddenly occurred to him—Calvin Stern, who wasn’t working beside him right now without any experience. Dallas had to start somewhere, or his event would never happen.
“You ever do any rodeoing?”
Calvin heaved another bale off the truck, stacked it in the barn with the others, then came back for more, wiping his hands, which were chafed like Dallas’s from the bristly straw, several strands sticking to his palms. “Tried calf roping once, and that’s the operative word.”
“Calf roping. Huh,” Dallas said.
“You don’t have to say it like that. I’m good on a horse, but you bull riders are something else. Daredevils. I’d never risk my neck on the back of one of those ornery critters. That’s a death wish.”
Dallas laughed. “Yeah, you got that right. It can be a rush, though.”
“Well, I’ve had my share of excitement.”
Dallas guessed Calvin must mean his years in the military or his run-in with the law several years ago. Hadley had briefly mentioned Calvin and two of his buddies rustling some cows back then, but Dallas was in no position to judge him.
Calvin grinned. “These days I get my thrills in another arena.” His gaze grew softer, warmer. “My girlfriend’s all I can handle. Most of the time,” he added.
“Maybe one rodeo wasn’t enough to get hooked,” Dallas said, though it had been for him. He unloaded the last hay bale, its sweet, grassy scent filling his nostrils. “You should try again.” He took a breath. “In fact, there’s going to be a rodeo in Barren late this summer.”
Calvin looked skeptical. “A rodeo here? Where would that be?”
He suddenly turned away as if he’d been given a cue, and at the same instant, from the back steps of the main ranch house across the yard, the dinner bell clanged. Standing there in her apron, Clara McMann rang it again to make sure the cowhands didn’t miss the big spread she served every day at noon. Fat chance. Slender, with graying brown hair, she waved at them. “Hurry, now. My famous beef stew will get cold.”
“If so, Clara would heat it up,” Calvin muttered, “but she’s right. That stew should be called famous.” He started toward the house.
His stomach growling, Dallas followed at Calvin’s heels. “I’m telling you, my rodeo’s going to happen,” he said, though he didn’t yet know how.
Calvin stopped walking to gape at him. “You’re putting on the rodeo?”
“You bet.”
Calvin resumed his walk to the house. As if she’d known they would make a dash for the food, Clara had gone inside. “For one thing, you’d need livestock.”
“I’ll have to work on that.” Dallas knew some contractors he might be able to talk into supplying calves, horses and bulls for a reasonable fee.
Calvin shook his head. “We’re off the beaten track here. Who would enter?”
Good question. Dallas hoped a few of his rodeo pals would welcome the chance to show off their skills for a new audience. He had calls to make there too. As they climbed the back steps, he rattled off some other possible names. Local ones. “Grey Wilson, Logan Hunter and his brother, Sawyer, from the Circle H, Cooper Ransom, who’s running the Sutherland ranch with his wife, even Finn Donovan, the sheriff, who I’m told has a small herd of cattle. My brother,” he added.
“Hadley? Good luck with that. You’ll need it.”
Calvin had pulled open the kitchen door, and the smells of beef, potatoes, carrots and onions tempted Dallas’s taste buds. Hadley was already seated at the table, scooping heaping spoonfuls of stew onto his plate. His toddler twins were banging their hands against the trays of their high chairs, barely missing the plastic bowls that contained their lunch. Hadley looked up. “You two talking about me?”
“Sure are.”
“Behind my back,” Hadley murmured, but he didn’t look as unhappy as he had the morning Dallas had begged for a job. Maybe he and Jenna had settled their differences, whatever they were, although she was nowhere to be seen. Probably working at her interior design firm in town.
“I’ve got a proposition for you,” Dallas began, heading for the sink to wash his hands.
Calvin snorted. “Wait till you hear this.”
Dallas tensed. The remark wasn’t the same as being bullied by a pack of eight-year-old boys on a playground, or knocked around in some foster home, yet the words sent him back there anyway, and he was still smarting from Lizzie’s refusal to help. Ace’s suspicions too. No one seemed to believe in him.
“I’m definitely putting you on the roster,” he told Calvin, then launched into an explanation for Hadley. As he took his place at the table, one of the twins—Luke—lobbed a piece of bread at Dallas with a surprisingly accurate arm, making his sister, Grace, giggle then sweep her bowl onto the floor. Clara hurried to pick it up. Dallas had quickly learned that lunchtime was always an adventure.
“A rodeo,” she said, sounding as if the idea appealed to her.
And to Dallas’s surprise, Hadley grinned. “I wouldn’t mind. That would keep you here for a while.” He sobered. “But I can’t see you in any arena soon,
