Chapter 3
For the first fifteen minutes, things went smoothly as the guests trickled in wearing their country finery and driving mostly pickups and SUVs. But then things ramped up. As sweat dripped off his face, Rusty realized a line of cars was forming and threatening to spill into the street, and he was having trouble keeping up with tagging the keys.
As if by magic, Kristy was by his side. “I’ll take the next one.” She grabbed a tag from the stand. Before he could say anything, she had moved to the driver’s side of the next car in line and was taking the key from the guest’s hand.
He ran down to the second car in the row, grabbed the keys, tagged them, and followed behind her, driving into the lot across the street that Kristy had commandeered for the day. He sprinted back, she walked, and slowly, likely due to those spiked heels.
Parking cars would assure she was dead on her feet come the end of the night. Not something he wanted, but he doubted he could persuade her to stop.
This time she followed behind him as they drove the next two vehicles in line. He wanted to wait for her to get out of the car after she parked it, but he didn’t dare, not with the cars cramming the parking lot.
He took the next car and was back at the building before she’d left with a car. And still the cars were piling up. He jumped into the next car in line, and this time, after parking the car, he caught up with her.
“You don’t have to do this. People can wait.”
“And have this be their memory of the wedding? Not a chance. I just wish I had some running shoes or something.
“I’ve got an old pair of sneakers in my truck.” Smelly ones he used for mucking about horse stalls, but they had to be kinder on her feet than spiked heels.
“Get them. Please.” She sounded desperate and relieved at the same time.
He detoured to his truck, which was parked on the nearside of the overflow lot, grabbed the sneakers from the backseat, and despite the heat ran the rest of the way back to catch up with her.
The driver of the next car in line was handing her the keys and she was tagging them when caught her.
Breathing heavy from the run (when had he lost his stamina?), he held up the dirty sneakers. “These are going to be pretty big. I’m a size twelve.”
“Doesn’t matter. They have to be more comfortable than these.” She was already sliding the straps off her heel as the guests hustled into the hall.
He handed her the battered sneakers. She threw them down onto the hot pavement, slipped out of her heels one foot at a time, and stood on the sneakers. She wriggled her slender toes, the nails painted bright pink. By his reckoning, her shoe size couldn’t be more than a size nine.
“Get the next car,” she demanded as she put on the first sneaker.
He did. By the time he’d gotten the keys into the ignition and driven the car by her, she was already in her car. After he’d parked the SUV in the overflow lot, she pulled in next to him.
He couldn’t wait to see those sneakers on her.
She bent and disappeared behind the car door for a second before stepping out.
His gaze shot to her feet, and all he could think of was clown shoes . “You’re going to trip in them.” Laughter bubbled up, and he had to let it out.
“I’m going to be fine.” She huffed. “You wait and see.” She power walked, her strappy heels swinging in her hand.
He jogged to keep up with her. The front of the shoes were slapping against the pavement, making a funny sound reminiscent of a horse’s clip-clop.
“Can you even drive in those?” He forced himself into a chuckle rather than the guffaw that was trying to get out.
Her arms were swinging as her feet clapped out a beat. “If it wasn’t for the hot pavement, I’d go barefoot. But I can’t, so these will do.”
They reached the building, and she flung the heels at the side of the entrance. The line of cars had grown.
She sighed as she surveyed the lot. “I feel like I’m Lucy and you’re Ethel trying to pack chocolate candy on the conveyor belt.”
He guffawed, unable to hold it in anymore. Few people their age would get the reference to the I Love Lucy episode, but he did, having grown up in a house where his mom used to watch the reruns while making lunch.
She pointed. “Get the next car. They’re multiplying faster than chocolate candies.” But she was laughing too.
It took another fifteen minutes before the line had thinned out, and he spotted her checking her watch as they headed back, having parked two more cars. “The reception is officially starting. I really need to go in and make sure everything is okay before the bride and groom arrive. Will you be okay?” She huffed alongside him.
“I will. And thanks. This time it was Kristy to the rescue.”
“I think it was you who rescued me with those sneakers.”
“We made a good team. So that drink I mentioned?”
She shook her head, but there was a smile on her face. “We’ll see. I think your sneakers may have saved my feet so that I’ll be able to go.”
“We’ll have to toast to those sneakers, then.”
Smokey’s wasn’t as busy as he’d imagined, but then it was after eleven on a Friday night. Most people who frequented Smokey’s worked on Saturday, so that could explain it.
The bar was a local hangout that celebrated ranch culture. Booths rimmed the paneled walls with benches covered in faux red leather, while a few round wooden tables and chairs dotted the planked floor between the booths and the bar. A moose head hung over the bar, and various signs announcing everything from cattle crossings to rodeos decorated the walls. In the far corner were a few older cowboys nursing some beers, but otherwise the place was quiet.
They’d driven in separate cars. Seems Kristy hadn’t found a place yet and was still commuting from Cheyenne, so she was staying at one of the hotels by the airport. He would have gladly chauffeured her, but he could appreciate her extra layer of caution since she didn’t really know him.
He hoped after tonight that would change. He glanced over the table at her as she slid into the bench seat. She had to be tired after the day she’d put in, but no one would know it by looking at her. Every hair was in place, and her blue eyes danced under the low-hanging lamp that spread its glow over the table.
She’d been clear when he’d asked her out that she wasn’t interested in a relationship. That suited him just fine. He wasn’t relationship material, even if he hankered for someone to care about and to care about him. Just wasn’t in the cards. But friends with benefits would suffice, as it had for most of his adult life. And Kristy was someone he’d like to be friends with. Smart, pretty, high energy, good work ethic. Couldn’t ask for more.
Charlene, a fixture at the honky-tonk for as long as he could remember, moseyed over, looking like she’d spent the evening parking cars. He guessed waiting on tables was just as tiring. “What’ll you have, my boy?” She set two glasses of water on the table and gave Kristy the once-over as she brushed some graying hairs, escapees from her ponytail, out of her eyes.
“A Yuengling.” He didn’t feel like anything stronger and was glad Charlene had enough sense not to mention his usual—a shot of Jack Daniels. He didn’t want Kristy to get the impression he was a heavy drinker.
Note to self: Moderate my drinking behavior. Air force duty came with more than a few bad habits.
“And you, honey?” It meant something that Charlene acknowledged her directly.
“A glass of chardonnay, if you have it.”
“Kendall-Jackson okay?”
“Fine.”
The fact Charlene bothered to mention the brand suggested something about Kristy had found favor with the seasoned waitress.
“You up for some nachos?” He was starving. He’d taken up the caterer’s offer of some leftover lemon chicken, but it hadn’t been more than a taste and certainly not filling enough for someone who had worked up an appetite. Had Kristy not come with him, he’d probably have ordered one of Smokey’s famous burgers and chowed down, but she’d said just one drink, and he’d keep to that.
“Sure.” She fingered her water glass.
“Coming right up.” Charlene shuffled away.
“This is a homey place. You live out this way?”
“My family had a ranch not too far from here.”
“Had?” She cocked her head.
“Now it’s part of my brother-in-law’s spread. I rent out the house still on the property, just until I get my own place.” Though Cort and Lexi had yet to ask for money, renting sounded better than mooching. He didn’t want Kristy to think he couldn’t pay his own way. He had more than enough money, thanks to the generosity of his parents, who had given each child some of the money from the sale proceeds.
“Convenient. They were neighbors?” The flecks of yellow in her eyes flared. “Were they childhood sweethearts?”
“Kind of. Kind of not.”
Her eyebrows arched. “Sounds like a story.”
“I’ll tell you about it sometime.” But tonight he wanted to learn about her. “So you don’t live in the area?” Finding that she was staying in a hotel had been a disappointment.
“Not yet. Ariel and I are thinking of moving out here, at least for the next few months. Since my boss won the event planning contract for the Boots and Bells August charity gala, there’s a lot to do. As Ariel and I try to build a business in the Casper-Gillette-Sheridan area, we thought we might look for a short-term rental.”
Great news. Especially since his sister Lexi and her husband were on the Boots and Bells committee.
“Tonight seemed to go pretty well. Guests seemed happy when they left.” Which, due to staggered departure times, wasn’t as crazy as the arrivals.
“The bride expressed her thanks, and another couple asked for contact information, so fingers crossed.”
“Gillette’s pretty much in the middle of the two other cities. And you must know that the mayor is trying to bring in more events to the convention center.” Commuting could be a good thing since it would mean she’d definitely not be looking to get serious. On the other hand, if she moved he’d get to see her more often, if she was interested in any type of relationship at all.
“My boss is definitely aware. It’s host to quite a few charity events that might be interested in having a professional event organizer. If you know of anyone…” She sipped her water.
“I might.” He’d check whatever contacts he could if it gave him an excuse to see her again. “What made you decide to pick this area over running the Cheyenne office?” Which was a bigger city and, as the capital, far more likely to have people with the means to throw big events.
Charlene appeared and set down a frosty mug and beer bottle by him and a full wine glass in front of Charlene. “Nachos will be up in a minute.”
Kristy eyed her glass. “Wow. You get a sizable glass of wine around here, don’t you?”
“Smokey’s doesn’t skimp on anything.” He poured his beer into the mug and raised it.
“Let’s toast to those old sneakers saving the day.”
She clanged her wineglass against his mug and took a sip. “Decent wine too.” She set the glass down. “My boss saw potential precisely because of the convention center. That’s the reason she bid on this gala. She felt winning the bid was a good sign.”
“Otherwise you work out of Cheyenne.”
“Marcia, my boss and the company owner, works out of the headquarters in Denver, and I was hired out of college to handle the Cheyenne opportunities. Marcia has built up an excellent reputation over more than twenty years and has pretty much saturated the Denver and Cheyenne markets, so it makes sense to expand into other regions. I’m looking forward to the opportunity. Though if I fail, I don’t know that there would still be a place for me in An Affair to Remember, since she’s already filled my position in Cheyenne.”
“Gutsy move then.”
She chuckled. “So many people have told me that, though I don’t think they viewed gutsy as a compliment. More like a synonym for foolish.”
“You know it takes even more guts to go against what everyone else thinks.”
“Sounds like you’re familiar with doing that.”
He nodded. And as a result, he’d let down his whole family. “I was the one who was supposed to run our ranch. Keep it in the family. Oldest kid. Been in our family since it was first homesteaded by one of my ancestors. But I didn’t want to be a rancher.”
Her eyebrows rose. “I had you pegged for a cowboy, what with the boots and the hat and the swagger.”
He felt his face flush. “Swagger huh?” He’d never thought of himself as having swagger. “Well, I like some things about cowboying. The comfortable clothes. Riding horses. But ranching for a living? Not for me. If I hadn’t gone into the air force, I’d probably have gone into rodeo as a header.”
“A header?”
“Part of a team that ropes cattle. You’ve never been to a rodeo?”
“Oh, I’ve been. Just wasn’t paying all that much attention to the different events. Can’t watch bull riding, for one. Too dangerous for me.”
“For me too.”
She smiled and settled back in her chair. “Takes a real man to admit that.” She took a long draw of wine.
He been in plenty of dangerous situations. And lived to tell the story. No reason to continue to tempt fate.
Charlene arrived with the nachos and set them down on the table with two extra plates and some napkins. “You two okay?”
“We’re good.” The smell of nachos had him salivating.
“So what is it about ranching that turned you off so much that you disappointed your family?” She reached for a plate and loaded up. He did the same.
“Too isolating. I like to be around people. I like being part of a team. I like helping people.” Among other reasons, some of which were still too painful to talk about.
“Rusty to the rescue?”
“Guilty as charged.”
“That’s kind of nice to hear. So many people are cynical or mistrustful these days.”
He shrugged. “I try to see the best in people. Give them the benefit of the doubt. Not that I’m a pushover. I think I have a pretty good BS antennae. In the air force, in my line of work, you learn to read people.” He dug into the nachos and was rewarded with the salty, cheesy, spicy-hot taste.
“And you said you’ll be joining the police force? Police work seems to attract a lot of veterans.” She daintily picked up one nacho and popped it into her mouth. She had a nice mouth, to which she’d obviously applied some shiny red lipstick on the way over. Made him wish he could kiss them to their natural pink color.
“My degree is in criminal justice. Since I was sort of policing the world, seemed a natural fit.”
Her hand with a nacho in her grasp stilled in midair. “Rescuing people?”
“Something like that.” He slid a few nachos onto his plate.
“So are you now the black sheep of your family?” She tossed a nacho into her mouth and grasped two more.
“I have a great family. My father never pressured me. He accepted that it wasn’t for me or, at the time, either of my sisters. So he sold the ranch. Turns out the guy who bought it ended up marrying my oldest sister, so it was a win-win. Ranch is still in the family, and my parents got the money they needed to retire to New Mexico, though they’re up here now, staying in the house with me and doting on my nephew, Parker, Junie’s son.”
“So you live with your parents?” Did she actually smirk?
“Let’s say I’m hosting them.” Though he loved the convenience and the no-rent option, staying in his family home did feel like a step back to his teenage days. Going to college, no job, living with his folks. He couldn’t wait to find out if he’d made it into the academy.
She looked down at the wineglass in her hand. “You’re lucky your father never pressured you.”
“You aren’t so lucky?”
She raised her head with a snort. “Nope. To my father, I’m a disappointment because I didn’t go into law or politics. And an even bigger one for choosing a profession he doesn’t view as professional. And not one in which I’m likely to make a lot of money. He’s sure I’m going to get some ‘ambition’”—she used air quotes—“as he would say, and move into a real job. I’m determined to prove him, and everyone else who has doubted my choices, that they’re wrong.”
She said it with such conviction, he believed her. “Good for you.” He admired her more and more. “But why does he doubt your choices?”
“My father thinks he knows best about…” She waved a hand. “Everything. Particularly about making money and being successful.”
“Sounds mighty sure of himself.”
“That’s because he’s been very successful in his career. He’s a lawyer and a state legislator, and he played hardball to get there and stay there. If he had his way, I’d come work for him as his chief of staff, help him get reelected, and eventually follow in his footsteps.”
“ Senator Winslow is your father?” The man had a high profile in state government.
“Yup.” She finished off her wine. “And we disagree on pretty much everything.”
Made him appreciate his father even more. “You want more?” Rusty pointed to the empty basket. He had just polished off the remaining nachos.
“No thanks.” She closed her eyes and then opened them just as quickly. “Fatigue is setting in, so I best be going.”
He reached across the table and stayed her hand. Her skin was soft and warm. “I’d like to see you again.”
She took a deep breath, her chest rising. She had a nice chest. “I’m not interested in dating or a relationship right now. It’s nothing personal, just that I’ve too much on my plate at the moment. But I am happy I came out tonight. Tired as I am, it was better than sitting in a hotel room.”
Perfect. Pretty, smart, and nothing serious. “I’m not looking for a relationship, at least not a serious relationship, either. Maybe we should at least trade phone numbers? This way if I come across a good apartment, or make a connection you’d be interested in, I can get in touch.”
She hesitated. Stared at him. His heart did a funny dance with skipped beats.
“Sure,” she finally said.
“And if you want another set of eyes when you’re looking for a place…” He was grasping to come up with something, anything that meant he could see her again.
“Rusty to the rescue?”
“If you think I don’t like that nickname, you’re wrong.” It was how he defined himself. The standard he tried to meet.
She grinned. “That’s what I like about you, cowboy. You’re comfortable in your skin.”
He shrugged. At least she liked something about him. “I’ll give you my number, and then you can text me and I’ll have yours.”
She nodded as she picked up her phone. He rattled off his number. His phone buzzed a few seconds later. The text read I had a nice time, Rusty .
He texted back So did I .