35. Arizona
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Arizona
I step onto the rodeo stage as Riley finishes introducing me, and one look at the packed grandstands tells me Colter Creek has turned out in full force.
The annual rodeo has every inch of the grounds buzzing.
Trucks and horse trailers fill the fields outside the gates, campers stretch toward the tree line, and families crowd the bleachers with paper trays piled high with barbecue, funnel cakes, and popcorn.
Kids weave between vendor tents with sticky lemonade cups while barrel racers warm up beyond the arena and broncs stomp inside the chutes waiting for the evening events to begin.
Sammy Brooks marches across the dirt with a clipboard tucked beneath his arm, pointing one crew toward the stock trailers before waving another toward the holding pens.
“Those trailers need moving before the next load comes in,” he calls without breaking stride. “Kane, quit making those kids laugh and help.”
Willy salutes from the fence where he’s entertaining a cluster of children with exaggerated rodeo stories. “I can multitask.”
“I’ve seen you try.”
The kids burst into giggles while Willy hops off the fence and ambles toward the trailers, still talking over his shoulder as though he’d planned to help all along.
Sheriff Hank Miller and two deputies work their way through the crowd, greeting visitors while keeping an eye on the busy walkways. Betty Lou has a line halfway around the church pie booth, with Carrie Jo weaving between customers balancing coffee and paper plates without spilling a drop.
Tommy Jones and Terry Johnson are already arguing beside the feed store display, drawing a crowd of ranchers who seem just as interested in the debate as the products.
“The ribbon should’ve been mine,” Tommy insists.
Terry folds his arms. “Only if they’re judging by stubbornness.”
A few ranchers laugh as Mayor Hannah Richards steps onto the announcer’s platform to welcome everyone before handing the microphone back to Riley.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Riley says, his grin spreading across the arena, “welcome to another Colter Creek Rodeo!”
The grandstands answer with whistles and applause.
“And before we turn a bunch of cowboys loose on livestock with attitude problems, we’ve got somebody you’ve all been asking for.”
He sweeps an arm toward me.
“You’ve heard her at The Silver Bit. Tonight I managed to persuade her to sing under the rodeo lights. Give it up for Arizona McCay.”
The applause swells as I settle my guitar against my hip.
“I was going to make a speech,” I tell the crowd, “but Riley already covered the important part.”
He gives a proud wave to the crowd, and I laugh as I strike the opening chord.
The audience settles with me.
I’ve played festivals, bars, and roadside stages where people barely noticed the music, but this crowd listens. Boots tap beneath the bleachers, couples drift closer to the stage, and children dance in front of the arena fence while I lose myself in the song.
Before I can finish the second one, I spot Sadie racing across the open space with Charlie close behind, her pink cowboy boots throwing dirt with every step.
“There she is!” she yells, pointing at me as though nobody else has noticed.
Emmett catches her before she reaches the stage, lifting her onto his hip with an easy laugh.
“You keep charging the stage like that,” he says, “and Riley’s gonna put you on the payroll.”
“I’m helping.”
“You’re helping me get gray hair.”
Sadie giggles, wraps her arms around his neck, then twists around to wave both hands at me. I wave back without missing the next lyric, and she beams before Emmett sets her down again.
She grabs Charlie’s hand, and the two of them spin through the grass while Dakota watches with Olivia asleep against her shoulder.
Clint stands beside her talking with Marshall, Reid appears carrying enough lemonade for half their group, and Cody shakes his head at whatever Duke has just said before both of them crack up laughing.
Jesse jogs after his twins before they disappear beneath the arena fence, while Wyatt checks one of the pickup horses waiting behind the chutes.
The whole town seems stitched together in one place, and somehow I’ve found myself woven into it.
Applause rolls across the grounds as I move into the next song, and my gaze slips toward the arena.
Red stands beside Silas near the bucking chutes with one arm resting on the top rail. He says something to Silas, then looks my way, and every other face around him fades into the background.
My fingers almost miss the next chord, but years of playing through busted speakers and rowdy bars carry me through before anyone notices.
Anyone except Willy.
He catches me looking, flashes that crooked grin, and bumps Red with his shoulder. Red doesn’t even glance at him.
Heat creeps into my cheeks, so I force myself to look elsewhere and find Emmett leaning against the fence with a ridiculous mountain of nachos balanced in one hand.
He catches my eye, lifts a chip in salute, and takes a bite with the satisfied look of a man who’s made the best decision of the evening.
A laugh escapes me in the middle of the chorus.
The crowd laughs with me, thinking it’s all part of the performance, and I let the music carry us through to the final song.
When the last chord fades, the grandstands erupt into applause. Sadie jumps up and down, clapping so hard I swear she’s determined to outdo everyone else.
Riley steps back onto the stage with his microphone raised. “One more time for Arizona McCay!”
The cheers follow me as I sling my guitar over my shoulder and step down into the crowd. I barely make it off the stage before Riley intercepts me with a bottle of water and his clipboard tucked beneath one arm.
“You’ve got twenty minutes,” he says, checking the schedule. “Bronc riding starts after your next set.”
“I’ll be back.”
“You’d better. I’ve already told everyone you’re worth waiting for.”
He disappears toward the announcer’s stand before someone else can steal his attention.
The midway has grown even busier while I’ve been playing. Families fill every walkway, vendors call out fresh barbecue and homemade pie, kids dart between carnival games with stuffed prizes tucked under their arms, and tourists stop every few feet to admire the horses standing outside the barns.
“Arizona!”
Sadie crashes into my legs with enough enthusiasm to make me laugh.
“There you are,” I say, hugging her before she can wriggle away.
“You were amazing.”
“I’ve sung for you before.”
She shakes her head. “This was the rodeo.”
That explains everything.
Charlie ambles over carrying a funnel cake that’s losing the battle against powdered sugar while Dakota follows with Olivia asleep against her shoulder.
“I think you’ve created a superfan,” Dakota says.
“I can see that.”
Sadie grabs my hand and tugs me toward the children’s arena. “I won a ribbon.” She proudly taps the blue ribbon pinned across her shirt before standing a little taller. “I came third. I would’ve won if Charlie hadn’t bumped me.”
Charlie grins through another bite of funnel cake. “My horse was faster.”
Dakota smiles. “I watched the race. You were both too busy arguing to notice the finish line.”
Clint joins us carrying two lemonades, hands one to Dakota, then ruffles Charlie’s hair. “You practicing for junior bull riding next year?”
Charlie nods without hesitation. “I’m gonna beat everybody.”
Clint laughs. “I like the confidence.”
Before Charlie can promise another championship, Emmett walks over, shaking his head as he watches Sadie pull me farther down the midway.
“I leave her alone for five minutes,” he says.
“She found me.”
“I noticed.”
He brushes dust off Sadie’s shoulder before she catches one of his hands and keeps hold of mine, leading us toward the livestock barns as though she’s responsible for the entire tour.
Rows of horses poke curious noses over their stall doors while visitors stop to admire them. Wyatt finishes checking a pickup horse’s front leg before tightening the wrap around its ankle.
“Everything holding together?” Emmett asks.
Wyatt pats the horse’s neck. “So far. I want every horse ready for this weekend.”
The championship finals.
The reminder settles in the back of my mind before Jesse jogs past chasing his twins. “If either one of you climbs that fence,” he calls after them, “you’re cleaning stalls all week.”
One boy glances over his shoulder. “What if Charlie climbs it?”
“Then Charlie’s helping.”
Charlie wisely decides to stay where he is.
Willy appears carrying two oversized bags of kettle corn and tosses one toward Jesse. “Bribery works better than threats.”
Jesse catches the bag with one hand. “You’ve never met my kids.”
I laugh. “This town keeps everybody busy.”
“It does,” Emmett says. “Nobody gets bored around here.”
A whistle cuts across the grounds, followed by applause rolling out of the arena as the next event wraps up.
Emmett checks the announcer’s stand. “Riley’s about to come looking for you.”
“I should head back.”
Sadie squeezes my hand. “You’ve got more songs?”
“A couple.”
She races back toward Dakota and Clint with Charlie close behind. Emmett follows, already calling after them to stay out of the livestock pens.
I turn toward the performer tents, weaving through the crowd until Annie steps into my path with her camera hanging from one shoulder.
“I’ve been trying to catch you,” she says, lifting the camera with a smile. “Come here. I want to show you what I’ve been shooting all day.”
Annie catches me outside the performer tent and hooks a thumb toward a pair of folding chairs.
“Sit down for a minute.”
She drops into one chair, camera already in her hands, while I take the one beside her. Another burst of applause rolls across the arena as she starts scrolling.
“I’ve been chasing people around these grounds since sunrise.”
“I’m guessing you caught a few.”
“I caught most of them.”
The first photo fills the screen.
Riley stands on the announcer’s platform with both hands flying as he works the crowd.
I laugh. “He looks like he’s directing traffic.”
“He nearly smacked me with the microphone.”
“I believe that.”
She flicks to the next picture.
Betty Lou slides a slice of pie across the church booth while tourists crowd the table deciding whether one slice is enough.
“She sold out twice,” Annie says.
“I’m surprised she had any left for the judges.”
Another swipe brings up Sadie charging across the stick horse course with Charlie racing after her while Clint doubles over laughing. Dakota stands at the finish line with Olivia asleep against her shoulder, completely unfazed by the cheering around her.
I smile. “She’ll be talking about that ribbon for weeks.”
“I’ve already heard the victory speech three times.”
The next picture catches Red crouched in front of a nervous little boy, tightening the strap on an oversized boot before sending him toward the mutton-busting gate.
I shake my head. “Delete that.”
“Why?”
“He’s worked too hard convincing everybody he’s tough.”
“I think the secret’s out.”
She keeps scrolling.
Willy appears next, balanced on the arena fence while half a dozen kids hang on every word he’s saying.
“He could start charging admission,” Annie says.
“He’d probably try.”
Then Emmett fills the screen. He’s walking a horse through the equipment lane with one hand resting against its neck, and the gelding follows him without needing a lead rope.
The whole town looks exactly the way it feels today… busy, happy, proud to be here.
Then Annie stops.
The smile slips from my face as I lean closer.
The picture shows the equipment barns after dark. Floodlights spill across the service road, and a chain link gate blocks the entrance beneath a RESTRICTED ACCESS sign.
“When was this taken?”
“Last night,” Annie says. “The setup crews were finishing, so I wandered over.”
“Zoom in.”
She enlarges the image, and my stomach twists the second Beau comes into focus beside Travis Mercer at the equipment yard gate. Neither of them has any business being there this late.
“What time was this?” I ask, keeping my eyes on the screen.
“A little after eleven,” Annie says as she passes me the camera.
I zoom through the rest of the sequence. Travis stands beside the control box in one frame before Beau walks over to join him. The next shot catches Travis gesturing toward the stock trailers while Beau watches. In the last image, they both look down the service road, then disappear into the dark.
“They stayed there several minutes,” Annie says, leaning over my shoulder. “I figured they were just checking equipment until I looked closer.”
“He wasn’t.”
Every conversation I’ve overheard with Beau over the past week crashes together.
He wanted to know which riders had drawn which chutes. He asked when the stock would be moved from one holding area to another.
He kept circling back to the championship finals, acting curious enough that no one questioned it.
He wasn’t making conversation. He was collecting information.
I hand the camera back and stare toward the equipment barns beyond the tent.
“This weekend the entire crowd will be focused on the arena,” I say. “The loading yard won’t have many eyes on it.”
Annie follows my gaze before looking back at me. “You think they’ve timed whatever they’re doing to the finals?”
“I’m convinced they have.”
Another roar rolls through the grandstands as the next ride begins. Families line the fence, kids holler for their favorite cowboys, and the rodeo keeps rolling as if everything is exactly the way it should be while the answers sit inside Annie’s camera.
I shove my chair back and head for the opening of the tent.
“We’re going to find out what Travis and Beau are planning before the weekend,” I say, already moving. “Once those finals begin, they’ll have every distraction they need.”