He slid her a glance. “I’m assessing my competition.” He pointed his fork at the TV. “That last guy from Guatemala? He was good. Between people like him and those who’ve graduated from some college rodeo program—”
“There’s a degree?” It couldn’t be like majoring in English literature as she had.
“Yep. And a ton of other rodeo schools. Competition is brutal. Gets harder and harder to rise in the standings.”
“What’s your standing?”
He frowned. “I haven’t ridden bulls this season except in Houston, where I didn’t make even six seconds much less the end buzzer before I reinjured my hip.”
She glanced around for his cane, but he hadn’t brought it tonight. “Which is why you’re still here in Barren.” It wasn’t a question.
“Yeah, to recover and to see my brother again. Without going into that right now, we have a lot to catch up on before I rejoin the circuit—and get off the injured list.” He shook his head. “My parents need that prize money more than I do, so for them too, I need to ride.”
A reminder for Elizabeth that he was only here for a short time, not that she wanted a cowboy in her life.
He refocused his gaze on the television. The ads were over and a rider in a gray hat was clinging to the back of a bucking bull with blunted horns. “See that? His balance is off. He’ll be on the ground—” the rider flew through the air “—now,” Dallas finished as the man hit the dirt. “No score.”
Elizabeth shuddered. She refused to look at her neighbor’s strong hands or broad shoulders, his taut overall fitness as a trained athlete. Even so, he couldn’t be a match for such a huge animal. “I’d never let my kids try that.” Not that her oldest didn’t badger her relentlessly about joining the other boys in the local version of junior rodeo.
Dallas studied her. “My mother wasn’t crazy about the idea either, but she and Dad are proud of me.” He paused. “Which brings me to the other reason I’m here tonight.” Not quite looking at her, Dallas told her about his vague plan to put on a rodeo somewhere in town, then asked for her help and whether she knew of a good venue.
“The old fairgrounds might work, but they’ve been closed for years. And, of course, you’d need some kind of permit. From someone.”
“You know everyone in town,” he pointed out.
“Where I am, at the moment, largely persona non grata.”
“This could be your chance to fix that, Lizzie.”
She rolled her eyes. “No one’s called me Lizzie since I was...six years old. Please don’t.”
His gaze warmed. “Elizabeth, then. I’ll try to remember. You know...we’d be good together—working on the rodeo, I mean. You have the contacts. I have the knowledge of the sport. There are a ton of guys in Barren, ranchers and cowboys. Some of them might enter.” Again, he took his time before he went on. “Picture it,” he said. “A summertime festival of sorts. Kids and parents outdoors on a sunny afternoon watching what really is a pretty exciting thing.”
“In your opinion,” she murmured.
“Okay, you’re not wild about the idea yet. How about this?” He arched his dark eyebrows. “What if we make it an event for charity? You pick which one, I don’t care, but all proceeds would go to that except for recouping the cost of putting on the rodeo, and we’d have to carve out some prize money. I’d be getting a chance to ride, you’d be gaining the respect of the people who got all bent out of shape and linked you to the scandal with your husband.” He added, “Even your mother might enjoy the day.”
“I doubt she’d attend. No, Dallas, I’m sorry, I can’t help you.”
She could see the disappointment in his blue eyes. Before Elizabeth spoke again, he changed the topic slightly. “I don’t mean to pry, but why isn’t your mother supportive of you?”
“Ask her. She’ll be glad to tell you.” Elizabeth didn’t want to expand on that. “Are you ready for dessert?” From the bag, she drew a smaller box of profiteroles, the delicate pastry filled with whipped cream and dusted with powdered sugar. Jack had gone all out at the Bon Appetit. But she had to smile... “These don’t look like a cowboy’s choice to end a meal.”
He looked skeptical. “You try one first.”
She did and nearly swooned. “Yum. Outstanding.”
Dallas reached for one, took a first bite. “Right you are,” he agreed. For a long moment he stared at her. “Thanks for having dinner with me.”
“Thank you for bringing such excellent food.” She fumbled for the next words. “Dallas, I’d like to apologize—not only for yesterday but for, um, the day we—you know, when I...”
“I was there too,” he reminded her. “No need to apologize.”
And wasn’t she being presumptuous? Why would Dallas want to repeat that onetime slip? Any more than she did? Still, she couldn’t afford to lose control like that again.
She sure wasn’t going to spend time with him planning some rodeo.
CHAPTER FOUR
“I’LL FINISH HERE if you want,” Calvin said.
At the McMann ranch, Dallas hauled another bale of hay off the delivery truck. He and Calvin Stern had spent all morning unloading, and both had worked up a sweat in the summer heat, but that was physical, hard labor. Dallas’s mind was miles away on Lizzie—Elizabeth—and the dinner they’d shared a few nights ago. When the heavy bale slipped from his grasp, he jerked his thoughts back to the present. Losing focus was a good way to get hurt.
He muttered something about having wet hands. “I’m okay. Let’s get this done.”
Dallas was determined to pull his weight, but his thoughts soon returned to Lizzie anyway. He could hardly blame her for refusing about the rodeo, and he understood that, but was he disappointed? Sure,
