“So, you have an evil streak. Duly noted.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Kate widened her eyes in an adorable, innocent gaze that brought a flush to Rowan’s face. She was grateful when the waitress interrupted to take their order.
As Kate had explained in the car, there were just the two dishes, and the waitress explained the sides that would be brought out. Rowan settled on the beef fajitas while Kate went with the chicken, and they each ordered a margarita to go with their dinners. Rowan sat back and allowed herself a moment to take in the evening. The air was warm, but not scorching. A gentle breeze played lightly across her skin, a beautiful garden . . . and a beautiful woman across from her. Kate wore a white tank top and light-blue jeans tucked into brown leather cowboy boots. Her hair was down for the first time that Rowan had seen, and it fell in soft waves over her back and shoulders, the rust-red accented with gold in the soft evening light. She had struggled to keep her eyes off Kate from the moment Kate had picked her up at her apartment, and the beautiful garden backdrop made the task that much more difficult. A small necklace in the shape of a cross hung over Kate’s throat, a tangible reminder not to flirt with the conservative country girl from the South. Still, she allowed herself an indulgent moment of envisioning how soft the skin beneath that little silver cross would be.
That cross was probably the only thing keeping Rowan from getting herself into some major shit. It kept her grounded in reality when the evening had been confusing otherwise. Kate had picked her up from her apartment by coming up to the door, rather than just parking outside and waiting for her to come down. She’d held the truck door open. Rowan was unsure what to make of it all. Texas’s Southern hospitality was virtually indistinguishable from what she normally would have assumed to be a date.
“So, tell me about Portland,” Kate said, leaning forward. “What do you miss most?”
“My people.” Rowan answered without missing a beat. She didn’t have to think about her answer. “My parents. My friends. I’ve never left home before. I got my culinary degree at the Oregon Culinary School and lived at home while I studied. I’m not used to being so far away from everyone I love.”
The waitress set the margaritas in front of them, and she took a long sip of the tangy lime drink. For the moment she was exactly where she wanted to be. This was the sort of Texas experience she’d been hoping for when she’d moved.
“That’s a big move,” Kate said, and admiration was evident in her gaze.
She nodded. “Yeah, I guess so.”
“Tell me more,” Kate said, and she leaned forward, capturing Rowan with her attention. “Why this job? Why Texas?”
“I applied on a whim,” Rowan said. “My friend, Alycia, saw the call for applications for the position. It was a nationwide call for new talent. I didn’t think I had a hope in hell of landing the job, but I figured it was worth throwing my hat into the ring. Somehow my application progressed to a Skype interview, which progressed to a job offer.”
“And now here you are,” Kate said.
“In Texas.” She tried to make the begrudging statement come across as humorous, but she wasn’t sure she’d managed to inject the right jovial tone into her voice.
“I have no doubt it’s an adjustment,” Kate said. “Texas admittedly has its own very distinct culture.”
“And climate,” Rowan added.
“You’re a bit of a fish-out-of-water here.”
“More like a fish in a frying pan. Does it ever cool off here?”
Kate laughed, her head falling back. “I promise you it does,” she said. “Our winters get quite cold.”
Rowan didn’t believe that for a second. “Define cold.”
“Around freezing,” Kate answered. “It never stays below freezing long enough for snow to stick or anything like that, but it gets cold and wet enough for ice storms. There are usually a few days a year when the roads all shut down because of ice.”
“So, hell does freeze over,” Rowan murmured in amazement.
“Indeed, it does,” Kate said, though she didn’t laugh at Rowan’s joke. Rowan was tempted to explain that she thought of Texas as hell more in terms of heat than the culture or the place itself, but she decided against it.
“I can’t wait,” Rowan said, instead. “It’s hard to even go out to the grocery store. I feel like a vampire, with blackout shades on all of my windows. I thrive being outdoors in the sunshine, but with this heat it’s impossible.”
“I promise you, you’ll acclimate,” Kate said.
“Will I acclimate, or will I just become a frog in boiling water? Surely there has to be a point when the heat is simply too much for the human body.”
“You’re forgetting that I work outdoors,” Kate said with a chuckle. “Trust me, it’s manageable if you drink enough water and take precautions to keep yourself as cool and hydrated as possible. You probably won’t die.”
“Here I thought you were superhuman,” Rowan said.
“Sorry to disappoint.” Kate winked, and Rowan smiled in response.
The waitress interrupted to place their meals in front of them: a plate of meat, grilled vegetables, and rice for each of them. The sour cream, refried beans, and tortilla platter were served family style in the middle of the table. The rich smell of the grilled meats hit Rowan and her stomach growled.
“God, it smells amazing.”
Kate smiled, visibly proud of herself.
Rowan opened the tortilla tray and was impressed to see that the tortillas were hand-rolled and fresh baked. These were not the mass-produced, store-bought kind. She picked one up and set it on her plate, marveling in the soft, warm dough. She added the meat, vegetables, and toppings, then took a bite, moaning out loud from the food that was possibly the best thing she’d ever eaten.
“So, does it live up to the chef’s standards?”
She nodded heartily. “This is incredible.”
Kate’s eyes shone. “This place is a favorite of mine. Daddy used to bring me here on special occasions: birthdays, celebrations . . . As a kid, he’d bring me here to celebrate good report cards, and this was where we came when I was celebrating getting into college. This is Texas, so there are plenty of good Tex-Mex restaurants, but this one, there’s just something special about it.”
“There is,” she agreed, touched that Kate had chosen to share such a special place with her.
Kate had a distant look on her face, and Rowan could see she was still in the memory.
“Tell me about him,” Rowan said.
“My dad?”
Kate had shared openly about her dad a minute earlier, but Rowan saw some hesitancy now that she’d asked about him. She was curious as to what that was about.
“You and he are close?” she pressed gently.
“We are,” Kate said, a smile forming on her lips, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “He’s my best friend. My mom left when I was young, and it’s been the two of us. He took care of the ranch, and I would follow him around, trying to help with the animals. I was more trouble than help when I was little, I’m sure, but he always treated me as his number one ranch hand.”
“And now you’re a rancher with him,” Rowan said.
“Yeah,” Kate answered with a slow nod. “I guess I am.”
Rowan wanted to understand the wistfulness in Kate’s voice. She leaned forward on her elbows and held Kate’s gaze with her own.
“What is it you’re not saying?”
Kate shook her head. “Nothing.”
Rowan rested a hand on Kate’s forearm.
Eventually, Kate met her eyes and exhaled, worry creasing her face. “Just know that our business is as good as ever.”
Rowan furrowed her brows, not understanding the leap, but nodded.
“Daddy was in an accident two months ago,” Kate said. She spoke slowly, reciting the facts. “He was thrown from his horse.”
The words had been spoken matter-of-factly, but the emotional impa
ct hit Rowan like a punch, and she felt her breath catch in her chest. “How bad?” she asked.
“He severed his spine at the T3 nerve. He’s paralyzed from the waist down.”
“I’m so sorry.” She squeezed Kate’s forearm. She could only imagine the toll that accident had taken on Kate.
“Watching the emotional toll it’s taken on him has been the worst,” Kate said. “That part I can’t fix.”
Kate’s shoulders slumped down, as though there was a heavy weight on them, and Rowan quickly connected the dots, realizing what the accident had meant for Kate and her life.
“You stepped in to take care of the ranch,” Rowan said, more of a statement than a question. It was clear to her that Kate had stepped up. Her dad had been injured, and she’d jumped in with two feet, doing what needed to be done.
Kate nodded. For a moment she looked so vulnerable that Rowan wanted to go to her and wrap her arms around her, but then she watched Kate’s defenses fall back in place.
“It doesn’t affect the production of the ranch, I assure you. I grew up working right alongside Daddy. I know his order of operations like the back of my hand.” Concern darkened Kate’s green eyes.
“I don’t care about that,” Rowan said, surprised at the change in direction the conversation had taken. Business was the furthest thing from her mind.
The relief was visible as it washed over Kate, whose shoulders relaxed with her breath.
“Thank you,” Kate whispered.
“Is he still in rehab?” Rowan didn’t want to talk about business or beef. She wanted to know more about Kate.
“He got home last week.”
“How’s that been?”
“An adjustment to say the least,” Kate said. “I think he was as excited as I was that I was going out tonight.”
Kate sighed and Rowan could see the exhaustion in her eyes.
“I want to help,” Kate continued, “but I’ve been in the way more than anything. Everything I do seems to frustrate him more.”
“It’s a big adjustment for him. And for you.”
“Yeah,” Kate said. “Everyone said it would be, but I still downplayed how hard it was going to be.”
“I don’t think there is any way to really prepare yourself.”
Kate nodded. Then she glanced at her watch and changed the subject. “We should get going if we’re going to make the rodeo.”
Rowan didn’t push the subject, grateful for the moment of vulnerability Kate had been willing to share. Instead, she watched as Kate flagged the waitress and insisted on paying for both of them. Once again, Rowan was confused. Southern hospitality or date? How did anyone ever know the difference in Texas?
“Ready?” Kate asked.
For the rodeo? Rowan thought to herself. She wasn’t sure, but she was going to give it a go. She could cross that one off her bucket list, if nothing else.
“Let’s do this.”
❊ ❊ ❊
Rowan walked alongside Kate, her eyes widening as she took in the shops along the narrow entrance to the historic Fort Worth Stockyards. Stores were selling all variety of kitschy Texas wear. Cowboy hats and boots, giant belt buckles in the shape of Texas, postcards, hot sauce, and everything jerky (beef, turkey, antelope, and even alligator). There were gaudy signs with slogans such as “We don’t dial 911” alongside the image of a gun, which struck Rowan as both tacky and terrifying.
“What is this place?” Rowan asked.
Kate laughed. “Right here, this is tourist alley. But the Stockyards are a big part of Fort Worth’s history, and the cattle industry especially. Livestock auctions used to take place here. It was the place for buying and selling cattle back in the day. Now, it’s a tourist destination, a part of Texas culture, and a good place to go see the rodeo.”
Rowan couldn’t help smiling at Kate’s enthusiasm. Her love for her home was evident. “You know, if you ever wanted to get out of ranching, you could be a tour guide, the way you’re ready with all the facts and details about this place.”
“I’ve missed my calling.”
Rowan smiled and bumped Kate with her shoulder. She took in the sea of cowboy hats, and wondered how many of the people wearing them were even from Texas. Young children were dressed to the nines in full Western wear, riding mechanical horses, the type that took a quarter to operate, while parents snapped photos.
“I feel like I’ve stepped into another world,” she admitted, as two children darted past them firing wooden pistols at each other.
“Embrace it,” Kate said. “You know what they say. If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em.”
Rowan, wide-eyed, shook her head, not even sure where to start.
“You know what you need?” Kate asked. “A cowboy hat. C’mon!”
Rowan froze in horror at the idea, but Kate was already headed in the direction of the nearest shop. She started after Kate, trying to figure out how to get her to give up on that idea. Tex-Mex had been a great plan. Going to the rodeo was questionable, but she would give it a shot. A cowboy hat, though? That was where she absolutely, completely, without a doubt, drew the line.
Kate turned back to her and grabbed her hand. “You’re a Texan now,” she said. “You need one. It’s a rite of passage.”
Rowan had her arguments ready, but Kate’s hand was soft in hers. Dammit, that softness distracted her until the next thing she knew Kate set a cowboy hat on her head and clasped her hands together with a delight that told her just how wrong for her the hat was. Large and unwieldy on her head, it even felt wrong. She didn’t often wear any hat, let alone a cowboy hat. It was probably ruining her hair. She could only imagine how ridiculous she looked.
“It’s perfect,” Kate said, barely containing her laughter. “We’re getting it.”
Rowan wanted to take it off. She wanted to put it back on its rack and get out of the shop, and preferably even out of the Stockyards, but Kate’s smile was addicting. If wearing the hat meant getting to see that smile, she’d wear the damn thing all night.
“This doesn’t make me a Texan,” she bit out.
Kate took the hat up to the front, insisting on buying it for Rowan. Then she pulled the price tag off and stepped toward Rowan to put it back on. This time, Rowan was very aware of Kate’s nearness, and she breathed in Kate’s soft floral scent. Kate’s breasts brushed ever-so-slightly against her chest as Kate reached up to place the hat.
She swallowed hard at the light contact. “I guess I’m ready for the rodeo now,” she said.
Kate led her through the rest of tourist alley and out to the main street. Cowboys stood in the evening sun, posing with longhorn cattle for tourist photos. A few brave souls took on a mechanical bull, while others attempted the cattle maze. She had to admit that some of the activities (not the mechanical bull riding) looked like fun. Kate bought their tickets for the rodeo and led her into the arena, which was blissfully cool. They found seats in the bleachers overlooking the dusty, dirt ring below.
“Can I get you anything to drink?” Rowan asked.
“A Dr Pepper would be great,” Kate answered.
Rowan got up and went to the counter to buy a Dr Pepper and a Shiner beer, then returned to sit next to Kate, handing her the drink.
It wasn’t long before the announcer came over the PA welcoming everyone. The lights dimmed and a solo rider came out. She carried the American flag and rode circles around the arena while “God Bless the USA” played. She started with the horse in a walk, then picked up speed as the music built until she was galloping in circles around the arena. The arena was more or less packed, and both the cheers and the music crescendoed. When the song ended, the rider stopped in the center of the arena, and everyone stood for the national anthem. The fanfare of the opening alone left Rowan feeling slightly mesmerized and a lot intimidated. What the hell was she in for?
Her knowledge of rodeos was nonexistent, other than knowing that it was a thing cowboys enjoyed, and it involved bull riding, which Rowan did
n’t think was a particularly animal-friendly or ethical pastime.
The rodeo kicked off with barrel racing, and she found herself enjoying watching the horse racers speed around the barrels. Kate explained that the object was to finish the course, which involved riding circles around barrels in a cloverleaf pattern, with the fastest time. It was fairly easy to understand as a spectator, and she found it oddly exhilarating to watch the speed and athleticism of the horses.
“I used to compete in this,” Kate said.
Rowan watched the rider in the arena, and easily pictured Kate as the one leaning through the turns, her long hair whipping behind her, intense concentration on her face. The image made barrel racing a decidedly sexy sport.
Rowan cringed when the first bull burst out of the holding gate and cheered more for the bull than for the rider when the rider was tossed onto the ground a few seconds later.
Otherwise, she found that overall she was enjoying herself. The showmanship at the rodeo was way overdone, and some of the events seemed downright silly, but she got into the energy, cheering with the crowd. Kate explained the rules and scoring of each event as it came up. She admired the demonstration of skills with each event, and found she could appreciate the athletic ability each required. What she enjoyed most, however, was watching Kate, who leaned forward, rapt with attention. Her enthusiasm for each event was contagious.
At one point— what Rowan assumed to be the half-time portion of the rodeo— children were invited into the arena and started tossing all of their boots into a pile. The announcer gave the kids instructions, explaining the event, in which they all had to race to the center in a mad dash to be the first to find their boots.
“Did you do that as a kid?” Rowan asked.
Kate looked over at her with a wide grin that made Rowan’s stomach flip and nodded. “Of course. I grew up with the rodeo. I started with boot racing, then graduated to mutton busting before finding my passion in barrel racing.”
“What the hell is mutton busting?” Rowan asked. She was fairly certain she was going to find the answer ridiculous, and Kate did not disappoint.
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