Lost and Found (12 page)

Mom had blown up my phone ever since I got to Willow Springs. I’d never answered one of her calls. She’d even left a few voicemails. I didn’t listen to them. She called Rose and left messages with her asking I give her a call back. I never did.

Mom was the reason I was at Willow Springs. It wasn’t that I didn’t like it there. I just felt as if she’d written me off and went with the easiest way to deal with me as she could. When it came to me, Mom was a pro at identifying the avenues that required minimal time and effort on her part. Basically, I’d been a houseplant for the past eighteen years. I was given just enough water and sun to keep me alive, but nothing more. Willow Springs was a classic example. Instead of trying to get to the bottom of why her daughter was floundering through life, she sent me off to ranch boot camp to “prove” myself worthy of art school.

There was so much messed up about that it made my head spin.

It made my head spin so much, I walked as fast as my legs could move. The weather had been cool the past week, and that night was no exception. Thankfully I’d pulled on my hoodie before leaving. Even at my power walk of a pace, my mostly bare legs were on the threshold of goosebumps.

About an hour later, the fairgrounds were in view. From the sounds of it, I guessed the rodeo happenings had started. The noise was as impressive as any concert I’d ever been to, but the sounds were different. Instead of screams and wails, there were a lot of hee-haws and whistling.

After weaving through a caravan of shiny, big trucks, I made my way up to the entrance.

“Hey, hun,” the middle-aged ticket lady said, trying to make her inspection of me casual. “Just one?” She reached for the ticket roll to tear one off.

“Um, Garth Black was supposed to leave a ticket up here for me,” I said. “One ticket for Rowen Sterling.” Garth told me a couple of days ago he got a few free tickets as a perk to competing, and he’d leave one for me at the ticket counter.

From the frown on the lady’s face as she shuffled through a few envelopes in a drawer, I guessed that ticket wasn’t waiting for me.

“Hmm,” she said, pulling one of those envelopes free. “I don’t have one here from Garth Black, but I do have one with your name on it.” She flipped the envelope over so I could see my name scribbled down on it.

My eyebrows came together. “Are you sure that isn’t from Garth?”

“Honey, trust me, I’m sure.” She pulled the ticket out of the envelope and slid it across the counter toward me.

“Because he pretty much looks like the rest of the guys here. Big hat, big belt buckle, big ego . . . that sort of thing.”

“Garth Black may look like the rest of the cowboys out there, but the boy who left you this ticket is something else altogether.” My throat was already going dry when she said, “Jesse Walker left you this ticket.”

“Are you sure?” I tried not to look too flustered.

She chuckled a few notes. “Yeah, I’m sure. When Jesse Walker comes smiling up to your booth, that’s not the kind of thing a girl forgets.”

I knew the feeling.

“Okay.” I took the ticket. “Thanks.”

As I headed into the grandstand area, I tried not to over think the ticket issue. Garth said he’d leave me one and he didn’t. Jesse never said he’d leave me one and he did. I had one big
Why?
to both of those statements and no answers.

In fact, I wasn’t sure I wanted the
Whys
answered.

The grandstand was even bigger than it’d looked from outside. Row upon row of metal bleachers crept up and around the dirt arena, and they were packed to capacity with bodies. A sea of cowboy and cowgirl hats swayed and bobbed in waves. It was an impressive sight. And it was noisy. So much so, I almost wished I had a pair of earplugs handy. A nose-plug would have been useful, too, because the place had that familiar barn smell that leaned more toward the offensive side. That might have been because I walked right past one of the big corrals where a bunch of frothing at the mouth and pawing at the ground bulls were stored. Damn. Someone had to have a death wish to attempt riding one of those things.

I hurried by the bulls and glanced at my ticket. It looked like most of the grandstand area was general seating, but my ticket had a seat number listed. So it wasn’t a cheap seat. Jesse had forked out a little dough to get a good seat at an event that seemed a notch above barbaric for the girl who’d barely known the front of a horse from the back of a horse a week ago.

I still wasn’t sure how I felt about the whole idea.

When I saw where my seat was, an aisle seat without any familiar faces close by, I decided to be grateful for it.

Until I settled into my seat and did a quick scan of the surrounding seats. Jesse was, in fact, close by, although not close enough he’d noticed me. He was about ten rows back and over and surrounded by a mini-harem of peaches-and-cream girls.

They ranged from cute to pretty. One could even be classified as drop dead gorgeous. Dark hair, light hair, red hair, tall, short, brown eyes, blue eyes . . . They were as different as one girl to the next could be, but they shared one similarity: their clear eyes and sweet smiles. Every single last one of the half dozen of them had it, and it wasn’t the contrived kind of sweet either. It was the real deal.

I only knew that because I’d seen every kind of impostor, fabricated kind of sweet out there, so when the real deal came around, it was as clear as the sky was blue.

I couldn’t dislike them, even if I wanted to, which I did because they had Jesse’s attention and I didn’t. They were sitting next to him, and I wasn’t. As much as I wanted to deny the way I felt about Jesse, I couldn’t ignore it. My feelings for him were instinctual, as automatic as blinking my eyes.

Jesse Walker had worked his way inside of my impenetrable walls, and I didn’t know how to shove him out. I wasn’t sure how he’d gotten there in the first place. I wasn’t even sure if I wanted him out.

So much confusion over some guy. I’d officially become my worst nightmare.

If I was being honest with myself, since that seemed to be a new pattern for me, I was confused about more than one guy. As mysterious as Garth liked to come across, he was less of a mystery to me than Jesse was. A guy like Garth had easy to decipher motivations, especially since I was so experienced with his type. They liked to keep people at arm’s length, although they preferred the term “mysterious.” They liked the chase, the immediate reward post-chase, and then they were out. Clean, permanent breaks. Basically, I was the female version.

However, the Jesses of the world were impossible to understand. A good guy was foreign territory to me. I didn’t understand his motives, or his goals, or anything really. I needed to know what to expect so I could maintain control of my world. Getting what I expected from Garth was better than not having a clue what I’d get from Jesse. I’d take a broken heart I knew was coming over one I didn’t see coming from a mile away any day of the week.

I had control over so little in my life that I had to make calculated decisions to keep what control I did have.

Jesse was a big, fat question mark I couldn’t risk.

I’d gotten so lost in my thoughts, I forgot what I’d been staring at the entire time.

Or
who
I’d been staring at.

As soon as I pulled myself out of my head, I noticed Jesse’s eyes were locked onto mine. Those sky blue eyes of his that made my stomach about drop to the ground when they looked at me that way.

He waved and smiled.

Oh, God. Please say he didn’t notice me the whole five minutes I was think-staring at him.

Since I didn’t get a divine answer, I decided to wave and try to smile back. The girls around Jesse stopped their chatter and took notice of who he was waving at. Then, surprising the hell out of me, every last one of them smiled and waved. Some took a little longer, I guess they were trying to move past my clothing or piercings, but they all waved. The drop-dead gorgeous one was the last, but after her gaze moved from Jesse to me a couple of times, she joined in.

The way people did things around there was so different. Almost entirely different. Back in Portland, when a stranger made eye contact with you, you dug your mace out of your purse. Here though, you smiled, waved, and invited said stranger over for steak and potatoes. Even a cynic like myself had to admit it was kind of refreshing.

Jesse said something to the girls, stood, and side-stepped his way down the row. His eyes stayed on mine, but I couldn’t help but notice every single set of female eyes shifting as he passed by them. I suppose if that ass was half a foot in front of my face, my gaze would have dropped for a while, too.

He wore what he wore everyday: tight jeans, snug tee, belt, boots, and hat. Everyone else seemed to be a bit more dressed up. Like watching a bunch of dudes and livestock stomp around in the dirt was worth getting decked out for. I liked that Jesse was who he was every day. He didn’t have the need to be somebody else, rodeo or not. He was just Jesse.

Well, he was
all
Jesse.

He bounded down the aisle, his smile getting a little bigger with each step. I reminded myself I was upset with him. He had a girlfriend, probably one of those six still pining after him with Bambi eyes. Even though he hadn’t told an outright lie, he’d lied by omission.

Thou shalt not ask a girl out if thou hast a girlfriend.

That was the eleventh commandment.

“You made it.” Jesse stopped at the end of my seat and kneeled beside me in the center of the aisle. I’d forgotten how nice those eyes were to look into. It’d been so long since I’d let myself. My heart was already racing, and he’d said three words.

“Thanks for the ticket.” After ignoring him for almost a whole week, those words felt like something of a defeat.

They also felt like a victory.

“I wasn’t sure you’d show up, but I wanted to make sure you had a good seat if you did.”

“Why wouldn’t I show up?” I asked, like I hadn’t been hmmhaw’ing over it all week.

“Because I was here.” Jesse shifted closer to let someone pass him. He didn’t move his arm sharing my armrest once the couple passed.

He has a girlfriend. One named Josie.
It was sad how I had to remind myself every two seconds.

“So is Garth,” I said. “He’s competing in something tonight. Something that has to do with one of those devil creatures over there.” I pointed toward the far end of the arena where the bulls paced around in their corral.

“Garth Black,” he said with a sigh. His expression shadowed for a moment before it cleared. “Have you been seeing a lot of each other?”

“About five seconds more than I’ve seen you this week. You know how it is. If you’re not working, you’re sleeping. This is the first R and R”—I made air quotes—“I’ve had in a week.”

“There’s a reason we’re kept so busy, you know?” Jesse said, his smile recovered.

“What’s that?”

He leaned in closer. So close I smelled the soap on his skin. “To keep us out of trouble.” He laughed a few low notes, and I couldn’t not join in.

“It’s working.” Even if I’d wanted to get into trouble, which was my M.O., I didn’t have enough time or energy. I wondered why they didn’t parole criminals at ranches.

Jesse’s attention shifted to the arena when the M.C. announced the next event: bull riding. At least I knew the official term for it.

“Don’t you compete?” I asked while Jesse watched the arena.

“I used to. Up until I was ten or eleven, I competed in team calf roping.”

Judging that the term “bull riding” perfectly described the event taking place, I made an educated guess on what calf roping entailed.

“Why did you quit?” I guessed there was some tragic reason behind it. One he probably wouldn’t open up about.

“I didn’t quit, Rowen,” he replied as his eyes latched back onto mine. “It’s what I do every single day. I just don’t need some shiny belt buckle to prove I can rope a calf from twenty yards.”

I peaked an eyebrow. “My . . . Either you’re rather full of your calf roping abilities or you’re really just that good. Which one is it?”

“I’m all right,” he said with a small shrug.

“Which means you’re the best there is,” I said under my breath.

His smile pulled higher. “The point is, even if I wanted to rodeo, there isn’t time for it, and at the end of each day, I feel like I’ve competed in my own personal rodeo. It’s not as novel when it’s your life.”

“So why are you here?”

“Because in case you haven’t noticed, there’s not a whole heck of a lot to do around here,” he said, counting the reasons off on his fingers. “Two, because rodeo night is like a family reunion. You don’t miss it unless you want everyone else talking about you. And three . . . I had to swoop in and save the day in case Garth Black forgot to leave that ticket he promised you.”

My eyes narrowed a bit at him. I wasn’t sure if it was because of his number three, or if because I knew number four was that posse of pretty girls still batting their eyes at him from ten rows back.

“Why don’t you like Garth?” I asked, wanting to get to the bottom of it.

Jesse’s shoulders rose and fell slowly. Then those eyes of his flashed with something I couldn’t make out. Whatever it was made me shift in my seat though. “Why do you?”

Answering a question with a question was a familiar defense mechanism. I was its number one fan. “I’m not sure I do yet.”

Jesse’s whole body visibly relaxed. “That’s good, Rowen, and I know I’m probably the last person you want to believe when it comes to Garth, but you should steer clear of him. Really. I wouldn’t tell you that if I didn’t mean it.”

Jesse’s voice and expression held so much sincerity. I didn’t doubt what he said was what he believed, but I wasn’t so sure he was in a position to warn me off guys that were no good for me. I knew what was no good for me, and I was staring at him.

“Says the guy who asked me out and winds up having a girlfriend.” That I didn’t say under my breath.

His eyes didn’t leave mine. “And if you would have given me two minutes to explain everything to you, like I tried a hundred times this past week, you’d be feeling pretty silly making that accusation right about now.”