Chapter Twenty-OneThe Reality Show
"Ouch!" Jo exclaims.
I leap up, about to rush past the partition that separates us. "Jo, are you hurt? I can get a doctor or a medic or something."
"No, Clay, that's unnecessary. The young woman fitting my dress accidentally pricked me." I hear small sobs, and Jo shushing the girl. "Relax, Nora, you didn't mean to do it. I'm fine."
"Are you sure?" Those words are followed by a sniffle.
"Positive. Let's keep going."
I'm watching from the other side of the boutique dress shop while my fiancée is getting fitted for the dress I'm not allowed to see---until the wedding, that is.
Once we tie the knot, nothing will stand between us ever again.
She'll be mine, and I'll be hers, forever.
Wedding . The word echoes in my mind, and I get a strange feeling in my chest every time I think about that.
I never imagined I'd be standing in a bridal boutique while Jo gets fitted for her dream gown.
"Mr. McKendrick, would you like something to drink while you wait?" The boutique owner approaches me, wearing a practiced smile. "Champagne, perhaps? It's complimentary for the groom."
"Just water, thanks," I reply, shifting uncomfortably in the plush velvet chair they've designated as the "groom spot."
Jo's parents are footing the bill for everything.
They know my folks could never gather enough dough to do that.
Our moms offered to organize the whole event.
But Jo and I assured them that isn't necessary.
Only then did Meryl and May admit this mega event was a bit much for them to organize, anyway.
Jo peeks around the partition from her perch on the pedestal I'd spied when the wedding planner had put it up earlier. Jo gives me that look---the one that says I'm being too serious again. She's right. I can't help feeling uncomfortable, but I need to relax for Jo's sake.
The shop owner is about to walk away.
"Actually, champagne sounds perfect." I announce. "Might as well celebrate."
Jo grins. "That's a great idea, Clay. Save some bubbly for me."
"Will do."
I already have my tux---a designer number that Jo swears will make me the best-dressed groom ever in the history of rodeo.
But we'll both become something much worse.
We're about to begin our careers in reality television, rodeo style.
Miranda had sweet-talked us into making the wedding a part of the show, and actually, we've been looking forward to beginning two new chapters in our lives---marriage and fame.
Not sure anybody outside of the rodeo circuit will care about the lives of a cowboy and a barrel racer.
But Miranda swears the world is hungry for authentic rodeo romance.
"Trust me," she'd said last week over coffee, while she showed us audience demographics and ratings projections on her tablet. "People want the dust and the glory and the love story beneath it all."
My mind reels back to the present as the shop owner returns with two flutes of champagne. She hands one to me, and I take the other around the partition to Jo without peeking. I hear her giggle, followed by Nora's relieved laughter. At least someone's relaxed now.
I take a sip and let the bubbles dance on my tongue. Not bad for a guy who usually sticks to beer after a long day at the ranch.
"How's it looking back there, Jo?" With all my willpower, I resist the urge to peek. Mom would have my hide if I broke tradition, and the PRCA boys would never let me hear the end of it.
"Almost done, Clay!" she confirms cheerfully. "You're going to flip when you see this dress. It's divine. Like something out of a fairy tale."
I smile, leaning against the wall beside the partition. "I bet you make the dress look good, not the other way around."
The boutique owner passes by with an approving nod.
I can hear the quiet murmurs of Nora and Jo discussing final adjustments.
This whole wedding business still feels surreal.
For months, I was focused solely on making it through the circuit, keeping the ranch afloat, and helping pay for Dad's medical bills.
Winning some events was a bonus. But now I'm standing in a fancy boutique while a camera crew waits outside to capture our "authentic rodeo romance" the minute we step onto the sidewalk.
"Mr. McKendrick," the boutique owner says, returning with a small plate of fancy-looking cookies. "Some refreshments while you wait."
I take one cookie to be polite. "Thanks. How much longer will this take?"
Jo emerges from behind the partition, beaming at me so brightly that it wouldn't surprise me to see a glowing halo above her head.
I jump up from my chair and can't resist teasing her a little bit.
"You're wearing jeans and a denim shirt for the wedding?
I thought you were dead set on a fancy gown. "
Jo rolls her eyes, but she can't hide her smile. "You're hilarious, Clay. And I'd marry you in jeans and boots if that's what it came to."
"We could save your parents a fortune that way." I offer her the champagne flute.
"Don't you dare," the boutique owner gasps, clearly horrified at the thought. "This dress is an absolute masterpiece."
Jo takes a sip of champagne, her eyes meeting mine over the rim of the glass. There's something in that look that makes my heart skip---a mix of mischief and sweetness that's uniquely Jo.
"All done for today, Ms. Callahan," Nora says, emerging with pin-pricked fingers but seeming much calmer. "We'll have the final alterations ready next week."
As we walk out of the boutique, a crowd of reporters clamor to get a good shot and write down anything we might say. Jo and I pose for pictures, but otherwise, we wave off any questions. The camera crew maintains a polite distance from us and the reporters.
"No spoilers about the dress!" Jo calls out as we make our way through the throng.
She grips my hand tightly, pulling me toward the black SUV that's waiting at the curb.
Miranda insisted on providing transportation---another perk of our new "celebrity status.
" But I still don't feel famous. I'm just a cowboy who loves rodeos.
"They act like we're genuinely famous," I grumble, helping Jo into the vehicle before sliding in beside her.
"Well, cowboy, better get used to it." She leans her head against my shoulder, snuggling up to me. "I saw the rough cut of the first episode last night. Miranda says our social media following has already tripled."
The driver pulls away from the curb, leaving the small crowd of entertainment reporters behind.
I wrap my arm around Jo's shoulders, feeling her body relax. "Was it weird? Seeing yourself on TV, I mean?"
"Completely bizarre. But you look darn good on camera." Jo pokes my ribs. "All rugged and mysterious. The camera loves those blue eyes of yours."
I ignore her comment about my eyes. It's...weird. "I'm confused half the time, and ready to elope with you in the dead of night the rest of the time."
"That's part of your charm." Jo sits up and turns to face me, tucking one leg beneath her. "Clay, are you having second thoughts about all this? The cameras, the show, the publicity?"
I consider her question while watching the Colorado countryside roll past the tinted windows. "About marrying you? Never. About turning our lives into entertainment?" I pause, choosing my words carefully. "Sometimes I wonder if we're making a deal with the devil."
"Miranda's hardly the devil. More like a very determined businesswoman in designer cowboy boots."
"You know what I mean, Jo. Once this airs, our lives won't be private anymore. Every fight, every kiss, every time I mess up---it'll be out there for everyone to see."
Jo folds her hands around mine. "Is that what's really bothering you? That people might see you mess up?"
I shift uncomfortably in the leather seat. She knows me too well. "Maybe. Hell, I don't know. Yesterday I was just Clay McKendrick, an unknown cowboy trying to keep his family's ranch from going under. Now I'm supposed to be this romantic hero for millions of viewers."
"You've always been my romantic hero. That hasn't changed."
The SUV hits a pothole, jostling us both. Through the partition, I can hear our driver offering an apology, though his words are muffled.
"What if they don't like us, Jo?" The words slip out before I can stop them. "What if we're boring? What if---"
She squeezes my hand, cutting off my spiral of doubt.
"Then we'll be boring together. And we'll still be getting married, and I'll still love you, and we'll still have the ranch.
" Her green eyes hold mine with that unwavering confidence I've always admired.
"The show is just a means to an end, Clay. It's not the sum total of our lives."
"Are you positive you want to run the McKendrick ranch with me? It's way up there in Montana. Your folks are in Colorado."
Her cheeks dimple, and her eyes sparkle. "I've heard about this weird metal contraption called an airplane that can take you to almost anywhere in the world..."
"You're hilarious, Jo."
"Cheered you up, didn't I?" She kisses my cheek. "Remember what I said."
I pull her closer. "The show is just a means to an end. It's not who we are."
I exhale slowly, and some of the tension melts away. "When did you get so wise?"
"I've always been the Yoda of the West. You were just too busy staring at my ass to notice." She winks, and I can't help but laugh.
The SUV slows as we approach the turnoff to the McKendrick ranch.
I'm home. The place looks a little different---a little better---since the first check from the network cleared.
New paint on the barn, repaired fencing, and Dad's medical bills paid up through next year.
That alone makes this whole reality TV circus worth it.
"Speaking of your ass..." I let my hand drift lower on her back as I whisper in her ear, "Been too long since we knocked boots. Could we sneak away to that place I showed you? The one at the far end of the acreage."
Her lips form a knowing smile. "Two smart people like us can make that happen for sure."
But right now, it's time to paste on our professional smiles and give the press what they want.