Chapter 2 #2
“It’s an unwinnable game, babe,” said Flynn. “Trust me on this. You’re not going to be able to impress her, whatever you do. You might as well just ignore her.”
“Easier said than done,” Jessie Jane said.
“Well, you’re only one person,” said Cassidy. “You can’t be everywhere at once.”
“I know,” said Jessie. “But I didn’t run for mayor thinking I would have to. We have a big Christmas show coming up. And West is trying to extricate himself from the Wild West Show so that he can get his new ranch up and running.”
Cassidy didn’t know much about the dynamic of the Hancock family, she never had, and she wasn’t any more enlightened for having Jessie Jane as future sister-in-law. West was an enigma. Inaccessible and … other.
Because she had lived in this town for so long, very few men were mysterious. Very few people in general. But he was.
“I didn’t know he was … starting a ranch?
” She wasn’t entirely sure whether that was the right vocabulary.
Funny, maybe, because she was from a ranching family, but that was the thing—their ranch had belonged to the Wilders the whole time.
They hadn’t started it. It had been in their family for generations.
“Yeah,” Jessie Jane said. “And he wants to taper off performing in the shows, but the Christmas one is so big, and … I’m going to mess it up. I’m not going to have time to make the rehearsals we need …”
“I could do it,” Cassidy said, without a single thought crossing her mind before the words exited her mouth.
Jessie turned around to look at her, and even Flynn rotated as much as he could while keeping his eyes on the road. “You … you could?”
“Yeah,” said Cassidy.
She had seen the Wild West Show, and no, she had never done tricks quite as magnificent as Jessie Jane did, but surely she could learn?
She was an excellent horsewoman. That was one of the biggest things that had changed about her when she had moved to Rustler Mountain.
She had gone from having never seen a horse in person to riding one every day.
She could drive a team that was pulling a wagon—and had done for the Gold Rush Days celebration that Millie coordinated every year.
She could ride the most difficult horse, and make it seem easy.
After seeing the show for the first time, she had tried to do some of the things that Jessie Jane did, and been more or less successful at it. She could pick the skills up. She had every confidence in herself.
Because she had moved to this place when she was nine years old, hadn’t known anything about ranching, about living in the country, about family, really, and she had learned.
If there was one quality she was really proud of, it was her ability to learn.
Everything that had happened before she had come to Rustler Mountain didn’t matter.
What mattered was being here, the stability she had here, the foundation, which had never existed in her life before, but was so strong now.
It gave her confidence. And that confidence drove her now.
“It’s a pretty intense performance.”
“I’m intense. Or at least, intensity doesn’t frighten me.”
“I don’t like it,” said Flynn.
“Why not?”
“Because it’s dangerous.”
“Your actual fiancée does the exact same thing?”
“Yes, and she has been doing it for years, and built to the skill level of today’s performance. You haven’t built a damn thing, squirt.”
“Well, I’m not going to compete on her level, and I’m not going to pretend that I could. But I know I can handle trick riding to some degree or another.”
Jessie Jane made a thoughtful sound. “I would feel terrible bailing on West. But a little bit less terrible if I had a replacement at the ready.”
Performing in the Wild West Show didn’t exactly make sense with her decision to try to seduce Dalton, or maybe it did.
Maybe this would be part of getting him to see her in a new light.
Not that she really thought he was going to see her do a handstand on a horse and be overcome by lust …
Nonetheless, she could step in and help Jessie out.
That was the thing. She could be someone who actively took care of her family, rather than just someone who was handled with kid gloves.
The truth was, she was guilty of allowing herself to be coddled.
It was a strange mix with her brothers. Because they might give her freedom on the ranch like one of the boys, and let her go with them to the local dive bar, and they had never been overprotective about her love life—actually, she didn’t have one, but that had nothing to do with them—but they were much gentler with her than they were with each other.
They made it clear that they thought she was delicate in some ways.
And while she fought half-heartedly against this treatment, she also sort of liked it.
They treated her as if she was special. And after the life she’d had, part of her treasured that.
But maybe it was time to push past it.
“I’ve got this,” she said. “Let me help you out,” she continued, putting her hand on Jessie’s shoulder. “Both of you. Honestly.”
Flynn grunted. “I still don’t know.”
“Well, West won’t let me do anything that’s going to get my neck broken, will he?” she asked, directing the question at Jessie.
“No,” Jessie Jane said.
“That requires me to trust that West Hancock is a good judge of what may or may not be too dangerous for you,” Flynn said.
“I’m not worried about Cassidy’s safety,” Jessie Jane said. “I’m more worried West won’t think she can do it at all.”
“Well, I can. I just need a chance to prove it. If West says that what I’m doing looks safe, and also that I don’t look like an idiot, will you chill out?” she asked Flynn.
“Maybe.”
“He’s your future brother-in-law.”
“True. But also a Hancock.”
“I think I’m offended by that,” Jessie Jane said.
“Well. That’s not the first time I’ve offended you, and it probably won’t be the last.”
Just then, Flynn eased his truck up against the curb in front of The Watering Hole.
The neon sign with the busty cowgirl leading her horse to a pool of water was glimmering like a cheeky beacon on the main street, letting everyone who drove through town know that this was not the bar for you if you wanted a nice family-friendly evening on the town.
This was the outlaw bar. For the bikers, the lowlifes, and the rabble-rousers.
Basically, tailor-made for the Wilders and the Hancocks.
Cassidy scrabbled over the back seat after Flynn and Jessie Jane got out of the truck and followed the two of them into the bar. It was already packed full of people, probably not all of whom had been out at the earlier festivities. This was their own version of a festive gathering.
It was interesting, the way her family existed between these two groups now. And she supposed the same was true for the Hancock family, what with Jessie Jane being the newly minted incoming mayor and all.
But the bar itself felt like home in many ways, including its scarred wooden floor and equally jacked-up bar top, with stickers and posters and bounced checks tacked up to the back wall behind it—redneck wallpaper at its finest.
Gus, the bartender, waved at them as soon as they walked in and gestured toward a table in the back, where Carson and Perry were already seated and waiting for them.
Dalton wasn’t there, and Cassidy frowned, until he walked out from the hall where the bathrooms were. She felt relief rising inside her.
“I’ll order us a round,” Flynn said, gesturing for Cassidy and Jessie Jane toward the table.
Cassidy went maybe a little bit faster than was strictly necessary, but she was pleased to be reunited with Dalton.
All the same, the earlier conversation with Flynn and Jessie continued to play through her mind.
Taking part in the Wild West Show. A little bit of anxiety roiled through her stomach.
Because actually the idea of trick riding seemed a little scary.
In true Cassidy fashion, she’d led with confidence, and then had deeper thoughts later.
She was not backing down, though. Because Jessie Jane needed her. And Cassidy wasn’t a coward.
“You look a bit frazzled,” Perry said, directing her comment at Jessie Jane.
Jessie huffed and sat at the table, reaching across to steal a french fry out of Perry’s basket. “You’ll have to pay extra tax for that comment.”
“Taxation without representation,” Perry countered.
“I’m the mayor. I will be representing you.”
“Touché.”
“She was feeling stressed about having too many commitments,” Cassidy said, feeling pleased at the opportunity to bring the subject up while Dalton was present. “But I offered to help.”
“Did you?” Dalton asked, and she felt as if the sun was shining upon her.
“Yes. I’m going to ride in the Wild West Show.”
Suddenly, she became aware of a presence. A shadow, nearly, cast long over the table they were sitting at, which was impossible, because there was no sunlight in the bar. So there couldn’t be a shadow. And yet, there was. Metaphorically. When she looked up, it became clear why.
West Dalton was there.
“I think I missed some of this,” he said, his blue eyes about as unfriendly as a clear sky when the land was in need of rain.