Chapter 13
Maggie
Ipark Betsy in the lot of the lodge and haul my weary ass inside, bag in hand. Mom and Brad sit at the front desk, captivated by something on the check-in computer screen.
“Heya!” I wave and they both jump, jerking away from the screen.
O . . . kay?
“What are you two up to? And hi, I’m back.”
“Hi, sweetheart. How was the trip this time?” Mom rounds the front desk and pulls me into a hug. I peer over her shoulder at Brad, who is now suspiciously clearing his throat while he tidies the immaculate reception desk.
“Oh, I’ve missed you.” Mom squeezes me harder, and the last breath swooshes from my lungs.
“Alright, what is going on here?” I direct the question to Brad, and he squirms where he stands.
“Fine.” Mom sighs. “We were just looking at your rodeo photos.”
I narrow my eyes at her. How is that a state secret?
Oh my god, are they terrible? I dump my bag and rush behind the reception desk. With a few clicks, I have the Pbr site up. I recognize the images immediately.
They are . . . Pretty damn good. There’s a mix of action shots and behind-the-chutes-type pictures. I don’t understand their reaction.
Brad is trying to tamp down a smile. “So, must be a lot of bull riders on the circuit?”
“Obviously.” Hands now squarely resting on my hips, eyes narrowed, I study my parents.
“Oh, could have fooled me. Half the photos are of only one cowboy.” Mom is practically bursting as she leans into Brad.
“What?” I snap my focus back to the screen. Clicking the mouse with enough force to split a wooden stump, I send the images past in a rush.
I finally make it to the end of the gallery and look up at Mom, who has the ‘well now, who’da thought’ look all over her stupid excited face.
“It’s not what you think, Mama.”
“Isn’t it?” she says, so innocently.
“No. Hadley wasn’t drafted. The arena manager and I—”
“Hadley? As in Hadley Jones, who rode Terminator over the weekend?” Brad is barely containing himself.
“One and the same.” The words are so monotone, my brows lowering, Mom bursts out laughing. “Come on you two, this is not what you think it is. He needs a draft pick. We were just trying to help.”
“Uh huh.” Mom winks at me and wanders into the restaurant area.
“Can you tell her, please?” I beg Brad.
There is nothing between Hadley and me. We’re friends. We run in the same circuit—literally. That’s all.
“Ah, let her have her happiness for a minute longer. Then you can crush her fantasies about grandbabies.”
“You are both far too young for grandbabies, Brad.”
He chuckles and kisses my cheek. “Good to have you home. Dinner’s in an hour.”
He follows Mom, and I’m left to wander up to my room to unpack and work on this weekend’s gallery and articles.
The events may only span a few hours, but the work of editing, write-ups, and all that goes into putting up the best publicity for the Pbr and its cowboys takes days.
All that tiresome work will have to wait till Monday, because this girl is exhausted.
Dumping my bag on my bed, I pull out my camera gear and laptop and set them on my desk before heading to the shower. Hours on the road have me feeling the need to shower and pass out. This time, at least I had company.
Hadley and I decided to meet up in Calgary. Apparently, Kayley has a supply run and offered a ride. Hadley should have the part he needs for his truck by then. We swapped cell numbers to keep things streamlined. It’s nice to know I don’t have to go all those miles by myself.
Turning on the taps, I wait until steam fills the small space. Once under the heated spray, every muscle relaxes as warmth sinks into my body. I sigh, letting the weekend melt away and swirl down the drain with the water.
Did I overdo it with the shots of Hadley?
I mean, it was Levi’s idea. I didn’t get carried away . . .
Did I?
Shit.
Shit shit shit.
I was trying to help. If other competitors pick up on the singularity of the last shoot, will Hadley be targeted?
My mind shoots to Knox.
I turn off the tap, fingers frozen around the hardware as I flip through the images from the last rodeo in my head. I can’t shake the feeling maybe we’ve made things worse for Hadley, not better.
Wet hair dangling around my shoulders, I step out of the shower. Toweling dry, I slip on my sleep shorts and a tank. I grab my laptop and fire it up as I sink onto the bed.
The last thing I want to do after hours of driving is more work, but I can’t let this all blow up in our—Hadley’s face.
The website loads quickly and I navigate through the shots.
Sure enough, the comment section is littered with comments about the photographer’s fascination with the great Hadley Jones.
One goes as far as to say that Terminator was a practice run for what I’m going to get when Hadley fuc—
I slam the laptop shut.
“Oh no.”
I rush the desk, swiping my phone up, and dial Levi’s number. He picks up on the third ring.
“You saw the response, I take it.” His voice is rough, annoyance lancing the tone.
“I did. Can the comments be taken down?”
“We’re working on it. This is not what I wanted for Jones.” He sighs, and I can imagine him running his hand through his dark hair the way he does when he’s frustrated in the arena.
“Do we take down the images, also?” I ask quietly. “Did they do more harm than good?”
He mumbles something before, “No. Fuck them. Jonesy needs this. He can ride this out. Scouts have been calling me about him since Terminator. I have a good feeling about this, Maggie.”
I’m glad he can see the silver lining.
“When will you know for sure if he gets a draft pick?”
Oddly, I’m fully invested in this now. Like I’m waiting with bated breath for a friend to finally accomplish something big, something they’ve waited for, for years.
“By tomorrow morning. The website should reflect the change by the end of the day if they decide to take him on.”
“Can you tell me which team?”
“Possibly Alberta Bravos. But nothing’s confirmed.”
“The same one as Knox.”
Levi huffs a half-amused sound. “Should be interesting.”
“Night, Levi. Sorry for the late call.”
“No worries, my phone never stops. I’ll keep you updated. Have a good night, Maggie.”
“You too.”
I tap the hang-up button and toss the phone on the bed.
Crisis averted.
Let’s hope.
By Tuesday my email is overflowing, and it takes me hours to respond to—slash move to trash—over two hundred messages and spammy garbage. Apparently having my name on a site that blew up over something that was supposed to be a favor for a friend ends like this.
I tap a message out to Hadley.
I wonder if he made the Bravos.
Hey Hadley. Tell me, are you brave?
Nope. I delete the ridiculous message and try again.
Morning. How’s the weather in Alberta?
Good lord, Maggie.
I tap the delete button so fast, the phone slips from my hand.
Seriously, why is this so hard?
We’re friends. Friends keep in touch over stuff like this, right?
Urgh, this is why I don’t have friends, let alone male ones.
My phone buzzes on the rug.
I drop to my seat, leaning against the bed. Phone in hand, I slide the message open. It’s Levi.
Guess who made the Alberta team! He’s officially on the books.
Yes! Thank the heavens.
I start a reply.
I’m so excited for Jo—
Frowning, I hit the backspace button.
Flipping heck, what has gotten into me? Since when am I barely able to communicate? Words, telling stories and recounting events, sharing is what I do. For a living.
After three failed attempts to sound happy but not overeager, I decide to leave it at . . .
Wonderful news.
I feel like a terrible human. I know how hard Hadley’s worked for that spot. How desperately he needs it and needs to keep it.
It doesn’t feel like enough . . .
I check the website and sure enough, Hadley Jones appears on the list of riders for the Alberta Bravos.
I can’t wipe the smile from my face.
Eat dirt, Knox.
Everyone in those comments can go find a short pier and take a long fucking walk.
Good on you, bud.
What a way to start the day. Beaming, I take the stairs two at a time down to the foyer of the lodge. I find Mom in the restaurant, clearing tables. I file in beside her and do the same.
“Some one’s happy this morning,” she says, her smile matching mine.
“Had some great news.”
“Oh, fantastic! What was it?”
“That rider, the one with all the photos, he made a team.”
Mom tilts her head, her eyes squinting with amusement. “Careful, sweetheart, they’re growing on you.”
My mouth gapes. “No, they are absolutely not.”
The second the words leave my mouth I know that’s a lie. And it’s not just Hadley, either. Brady, Spencer, and even Levi, they are all incredible men, sportsman and kind, respectful humans.
They haven’t just grown on me, they’ve dug in, roots and all.
Shit.
I follow Mom into the kitchen, arms loaded with plates, bowls, and dirty cutlery. Terrance winks at me when I dump them by the sink.
“Morning, Maggie. Out snapping the world today?”
“Maybe. I have some work to catch up on first.”
“Always bringing something to the world’s attention. What would we do without you?”
“Live under a rock?” I give him a cheeky smile.
A tea towel flies through the air at my head.
The old man chuckles as he starts another batch of scrambled eggs for the guests who’ve filled the dining room this morning. His food is one of the best parts of this old lodge, and he was one of Mom’s first hires when she took over.
Terrance meets my gaze. “Need a little lunch to-go later?”
“Sure, I could use some mountain air.” I sneak a spoonful of eggs and he spins around, holding out a slice of toast, butter already melted to perfection and glistening on the triangle of golden bread.
I take it, not able to make it last as I wander to the buffet and grab a cup of coffee to wash down the toast.
“Need some company on your walk today?” Mom asks, now back at the front desk.
With work, the lodge, and all my travel, the time to just be with Mom is rarer and rarer. “Sure, Mama. I’d love that.”
“Good. Brad can man the desk for the day, hey. Just us two girls in the wilderness.”
I laugh before sipping the coffee. “I’ll alert the bears.” Waving a hand through the air like a mock commercial announcer, I add, “Meredith Gallagher, out in the wild. The first and last warning for all bears of Yoho.”
She gives me a sarcastic look before rolling her eyes. “I was the outdoorsy type once. You try and keep up.”
“Oh, game on, old lady.”
The look of feigned horror as she clutches her invisible pearls almost has the coffee snorting out my nose.
“Take lunch with?” Mom says over her shoulder as I head for the stairs.
“Sure, Mama. Be down in a few hours.”
Her smile is the pure definition of happiness. The sight fills my chest with warmth.
I’m loving today already.