Thankful for You

by Joanna Sims

  After a disappointing show at Fort Worth, Dallas packed up her gear, loaded Blue into her trailer and set a course for San Antonio. She knew the roads well, and for the most part she liked traveling on her own. Many of the other barrel racers would travel together or they had a spouse, friends or assistants travel with them. Clint was the only person she ever traveled with, and that wasn’t all the time. No—she liked the freedom of traveling by herself. It was lonely, but that was also the life she had dreamt about, way back when she was a “barrel racing sensation” as a preteenager.

  “You were fast and you didn’t slice any of the barrels this time.”

  Nick!

  They had been talking on the phone all throughout the week, even if it was just to catch up for a couple of quick minutes, and he had never mentioned that he was even thinking about meeting her in San Antonio. She was completely surprised again, and completely pleased, to see him waiting for her directly outside the exhibitor exit gate.

  “See?” He smiled at her with that charming smile of his. “I’m learning.”

  There it was again—that flip-flop her heart did every time she saw Nick.

  “Welcome to San Antonio.” This was said with a small but happy smile.

  Dallas swung out of the saddle and officially greeted Nick with a long, hard hug.

  “Man, do I love to watch you ride!” Nick fell in beside her as she walked Blue back to his temporary stall.

  “Why?” She laughed, still pleased that he was with her again.

  “I don’t know how to explain it,” Nick replied. “I can’t take my eyes off you.”

  He hung out with her while she tended to Blue, and it seemed to her that he was patiently awaiting his turn for her attention.

  The last item in her post-run ritual was to kiss Blue on the spot on his nose before she gave him a pad of his favorite hay.

  “Do I get one of those too?” Nick asked her.

  Dallas gave him a quick peck on the cheek, but Nick held on to her hand and reeled her back in toward him. He kissed her on the lips—undemanding, simple, honest—a second perfect kiss.

  “Hi,” Nick said after the kiss.

  “Hi.” She loved the feel of his lips on hers.

  “Do you know what occurred to me yesterday?”

  She shook her head, caught up in his ocean-blue eyes.

  “I hadn’t asked you out on a second date.”

  “That is true.”

  Nick reached for her hand and she didn’t have her normal, knee-jerk response when someone touched her without warning—she didn’t pull away from him.

  “Would you go out with me tonight, Dallas?”

  Dallas pretended to think longer than she needed. “I suppose I can make room on my social calendar.”

  * * *

  Nick took her to a downtown nightspot in San Antonio, Deep Ellum, where the small beer brewery reigned supreme. It was a Saturday night and downtown San Antonio was bustling and buzzing with college students and San Antonio young professionals and tourists alike. The sidewalks in the Deep Ellum area were jammed, and Dallas was happy to hold on to Nick’s hand to keep from being separated from him.

  “I’ve already scoped out some microbreweries for us to try.” Nick had an excited gleam in his eye and an energy in his body that he simply didn’t have in the mountains of Montana.

  He thrived in a city like San Antonio—this was the most liberal and cosmopolitan city in Texas and it was dominated by students from the University of Texas at San Antonio, where one of their buildings was so big that it needed its own zip code. Unlike in Lightning Rock, where she was in her element and often led the way, tonight she was following Nick’s lead.

  “I have to compete tomorrow,” she reminded him.

  “We’re going to sample—not chug,” Nick reassured her. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you get home safe and are in good shape to kick ass tomorrow.”

  They started at the Deep Ellum Brewing Company and then just hopped from one microbrewery to the next, sharing a mug of beer, often only taking a couple of sips before they were on to the next stop on the tour Nick had planned for them. Dallas loved walking with Nick, holding his hand—women noticed this man. It was in the way he held himself, the cut and quality of his business-casual clothing—his manners. Yes, he was a handsome man in his own right; he had a strong nose, a strong jawline. He had an alpha male aura that other men seemed to acknowledge. And she was the lucky woman on his arm.

  * * *

  Nick had remembered that Dallas had ordered a beer instead of wine on their first date, so he thought that a great second date would be to take her on his own personal tour of San Antonio’s microbreweries. The side benefit? It was a great excuse to hold her hand. Nick, like most men, had an eye for attractive women. And there were many young, sexy women all over Deep Ellum on a Saturday night. Yet, unlike when he was out on dates with other women, he didn’t have to work to keep his attention on Dallas. She was a magnet for his eyes.

  “So, how do you think our second date is going?”

  He didn’t usually fish for compliments, but he wanted Dallas to like being with him and it was hard to read her signals. Yes, she was smiling more than she did when they were together at Lightning Rock; but he didn’t consider that a good benchmark, because their job at Lightning Rock had been such a somber one—it would be a really bad sign if she weren’t smiling more now.

  “I guess it’s goin’ fine.” Dallas’s eyes had been floating around the room, but she brought them back to his face to answer his question.

  “Fine?” he asked her with feigned shock and hurt. “Fine?”

  “I didn’t mean I was havin’ a bad time,” his date clarified.

  “Oh!” Nick rolled his eyes dramatically. “That’s heartening to know.”

  That made Dallas laugh, which was like winning a jackpot for Nick. He loved to hear her laugh. When she laughed, it made him want to laugh along with her.

  The cowgirl reached out, grabbed his hand and shook it a couple of times. “Quit twistin’ my words, Nick! I meant that I don’t have much to compare it to. I don’t go out on dates all that often.”

  “I’m sure that’s not for a lack of asking.” Nick took a sip of the beer they were sharing.

  Nick remembered how much attention Dallas’s barrel practice had drawn from the cowboys on his uncle’s ranch. He’d also seen how much attention Dallas got from the men at these rodeos. The interest was there, if only one-sided.

  “I get asked.” Dallas fiddled with the small cross on a gold chain hanging around her neck. “Not as much anymore. I’ve said no to just about everyone who’s wanted to ask.”

  Nick processed that information, and once it registered it made him feel better about his grand gestures of catching a plane and flying to Texas.

  He took her hand in his. “You said yes to me. Twice.”

  “I know.” Dallas seemed surprised at her own willingness to say yes to him.

  “Man, it’s taking me every ounce of my self-control and pride not to ask you why you said no to so many cowboys and yes to an attorney from Chicago,” Nick said, only half kidding. He really did want to know. Was this an experiment, or was she feeling the same special chemistry between them that he was?

  He decided to ask anyway. “Why’d you say yes to me, Dallas?” This time, he had a serious bent to his question.

  “You have nice manners,” the cowgirl answered with that honesty he admired. “And kind eyes.”

  Nick wanted to kiss her right there in front of all the microbrewery patrons; he held his ardor because he knew that Dallas wouldn’t want to be kissed out in the open where they were. She was more private about her business. He’d never been all that private, but about his impromptu visits to Texas he hadn’t breathed a word to his family, his friend
s, his coworkers or on social media. And he had to admit that he was glad that Dallas, who was open on social media about her barrel racing experiences, hadn’t shared one post about their first date.

  “Do you have any idea how much I like you, Ms. Dalton?”

  “Not really.” Another honest response. “But it must be a whole heck of a lot for you to come all the way out to Texas two weekends in a row.”

  They found a street vendor that looked semitrustworthy and tried to sop up some of the alcohol in their systems eating frankfurters with the works, hold the onions. The clock was working against him, and he knew it. The nightlife in Deep Ellum was winding up when it was time for Dallas to start winding down. They passed several of Dallas’s contemporaries on the sidewalk, but Nick was more than aware of the cowgirl’s ambitions. He loved her goal-oriented nature, he admired it, but it didn’t help his chances of keeping her out longer on this date.

  “I’ve got to get you back,” Nick said as they stood on a street corner in Deep Ellum.

  Everything about that night had been working in his favor—the Texas late-summer evening was warm but not humid, the sky was clear, and the microbrewery district was brimming with energy and activity. People were happy in Deep Ellum; with Dallas at his side, he was one of those happy people.

  Nick hailed a cab and gave the driver the directions. In the back of the cab, they were both quiet but sat close together, their hands clasped.

  “I’ll be just a minute,” Nick told the cabby when they stopped.

  Holding on to Dallas’s hand, he walked with her back to her trailer. In the dim light cast off by the campground lighting, Nick pulled the cowgirl into his arms. He hugged her, not wanting to let her go this time. “I’ve got this huge suite back at the Omni with a second bed that you could use. I feel like a real jerk dropping you off here.”

  “This is what I’m used to.” Dallas brushed away his concern. “I have everything I need here—a bed, a shower, a fridge.”

  “You know I wouldn’t try to talk you into anything you weren’t ready to do.” Nick had his hands on the top of her muscular arms. “That’s not why I offered.”

  “I know. But I like to keep my edge. I can’t always stay in motels, and I sure as heck can’t stay in hotels like the Omni. No sense getting used to something I can’t have.”

  Nick brought one of his hands up to her face. Such a pretty face—her cheekbones, her lips.

  “Is it a mistake for me to get used to seeing you?” he asked her.

  She hesitated to answer, so he stopped the next words from coming out her mouth by kissing them away.

  Each kiss was a little bit deeper, a little bit longer, a little bit more sensual. This time, he lingered on her lips, tasting her, feeling her, while his arms held her more closely to his body. He wanted more, but the moment he felt her tense, the second he felt her resist, he ended the kiss and let her go.

  “I have to get some sleep,” she said, her hand resting on his chest.

  Was she keeping her at arm’s length with that hand? Was she resting that hand over his heart deliberately?

  With this second date, he had more questions than answers about his relationship with this enigmatic rodeo girl.

  “Thank you, Nick.” Dallas’s hand fell away from him. “For the best date I’ve ever had.”

  * * *

  Dallas left San Antonio on an upswing, emotionally and professionally. She had great rounds, Blue was in top shape and she had done her job to support her horse around the barrels. Her next and last stop was Houston and then she was going to head back to Montana to give Blue a well-deserved rest from the road and competition. Many of the rodeos sanctioned by the Women’s Professional Rodeo Association were in Montana, so she could rest up and then get back to it without much driving.

  On the drive from San Antonio to Houston, she wondered if Nick was going to surprise her again. The rodeo was several weeks away and she was going to be parking on a friend’s land just outside Houston, where she could turn Blue out to graze and keep the barrel racer’s endurance high between competitions. The thought of seeing Nick again excited her in a way that felt odd and foreign. Much like their last kiss. She had kept men in the friend zone for so long—she had focused on her career for so long—all this slow-burning romance with Nick felt fresh and brand-new.

  On her downtime before the next competition, Dallas spoke with Nick several times a week, and they texted regularly every day. He was always so busy with his new job at the law firm and catching up with his friends, whom he’d blown off two weekends in a row. The things that he liked to do on his downtime weren’t her idea of a good time—she didn’t understand why he liked to spend time at his country club golfing, she didn’t understand the attraction of taking a boat out onto the water, parking it for a while and then taking it back to the dock. She wasn’t really a water person, other than swimming in small lakes like Sweet William, but Nick liked boating on Lake Michigan—one of the most dangerous of the Great Lakes. Lake Michigan was too big and too busy and too treacherous for her liking. Yes, she was an adrenaline junky, but she liked to get her adrenaline rushes while on dry land.

  It was in her downtime, thinking about Nick in Chicago, living in his state-of-the-art, best-of-everything, high-rise condo with his fancy country club friends, when she really started to question their relationship. No, they hadn’t crossed any serious boundaries. They were dating but hadn’t made any promises. Nick was free to date while he was in Chicago, and she was just as free to date while she was living her life on the road.

  In her mind, whenever she imagined herself in a serious relationship, it was never with a cowboy. Nick treated her like a lady—he was raised with old-school manners, he was a gentleman and she loved it. He was like his uncle Hank in that way, and it made sense—they were all Brands. Nick was a city Brand, but a Brand nonetheless. When she was out with him, he knew how to order, he taught her about food, and she loved to listen to his stories about his travels in Europe and Asia and the Middle East.

  The attraction was real. The mutual interest was real. But was it sustainable? Doubtful. Highly doubtful. Would that stop her from going out with him again or kissing him again? Doubtful. Highly doubtful.

  * * *

  The week leading up to the Houston rodeo, Nick had been preparing her for the fact that he couldn’t get away. He hadn’t said it directly, but he had been wrapped up in his first big case for the firm and he needed to spend late nights at the office and spend the weekends working. Part of her thought that he was trying to get her off the scent; on the other hand, he had an important job to do and his father’s reputation at the firm to uphold. Either way, her downtime was over and it was time for her to get her head back into her own game. Nick was a distraction; he was a very wonderful, funny, handsome distraction, but still a distraction.

  The Houston rodeo offered an indoor venue, which was one of the reasons she selected it. The money was decent, but the experience Blue would get running barrels indoors was invaluable. Horses always reacted differently running barrels inside versus how they would run in an outdoor arena. The NFR in Las Vegas? Indoor, all the way.

  Dallas was dressed in her competition garb, and Blue was tacked up in his show bridle and show saddle, his legs were wrapped and ready to go, and they were in the line of competitors, waiting their turn to race. Many of the horses were anxious, pacing, moving back and forth, dancing to the side, tossing their heads, and champing at their bits. Some of the riders needed a handler at the horse’s head to get it moving forward. Blue was always calmer than the other horses, which sometimes put Dallas at a disadvantage at the jump. With all the nervous energy coming off the riders and the horses, she had to fight to keep her mind focused on the barrels instead of absorbing all the anxiety crackling in the air around her.

  The line kept moving; barrel racing was a speed sport. On
e by one, the riders in front of her ran their race.

  “Okay, boy,” Dallas said, loud enough for Blue to hear her over the din around them. “It’s time to go to work.”

  The horse in front of them, a huge, gorgeous dappled gray, was fighting the bit, trying to bound forward, rearing up again and again. Barrel racing horses could get sour and act out before they raced. They knew they were about to be asked to go from stop to full steam ahead. If Blue started to act like this in the chute, Dallas would retire him hands down.

  The dappled gray shot out of the chute and the rider had a solid run. A real solid run. Blue started prancing, and the moment she got the signal she let her steed have his head and they started to gallop through the long track out to the arena. Her race around the barrels always happened so quick that it felt like a flash. She couldn’t hear the crowd; she didn’t notice them. All she saw was the barrels. All she felt was the strength and balance of the horse beneath her. If she did her job, she’d work with Blue to curve around those barrels without touching them and get up in the stirrups so he could gallop full speed to the end of the coarse.

  In the span of a couple of seconds, her run was over. She galloped through the long chute out of the arena used to give the horse and rider a chance to ease out of the full-throttle run.

  Blue slowed to a trot and Dallas patted him on his neck to praise him. They’d worked out there just as they should. Her time was solid and she hadn’t touched the barrels. She had a shot at the money and being advanced to the next round.

  “Good boy!” Dallas gave the quarter horse his head on a long rein. “Good boy!”

  She left the arena feeling like she was on a cloud. Her trip to Texas had been a series of professional ups and downs. Blue had always done his part, but she hadn’t always been able to do hers.

  “You! Are! In-credible!”

  That cherry on top of that amazing run—perhaps the best run of her trip to Texas—was seeing Nick Brand waiting for her outside the arena wearing her father’s favorite cowboy hat and holding a small bunch of Montana wildflowers in his hand. Heaven.