Chapter 8 Billy #2
“Wouldn’t miss it,” I say, shutting the door behind me.
Ruth lifts her travel mug toward me. “Morning. Hope you recovered from the festival. You all worked harder than anyone.”
“It was a good turnout,” I say, lowering into the empty chair. “Crowds were bigger than last year.”
“Bigger than the last three,” she confirms. “Vendors sold out on the first night. Music stage ran smooth. The lighting they put up on Main Street brought in so many families for the evening market.”
Grant clears his throat, pride rolling through him. “This town hasn’t seen numbers like that in a long while. Couldn’t have done it without the ranch’s help. You and your brothers kept everything moving. Parking, livestock prep, security volunteer hours. Folks were talking about it all weekend.”
I nod. “Always happy to help.”
Honestly, I’m glad the festival went as well as it did. Prairie Pine needed a win. Stores have been struggling. The feed warehouse almost closed last winter. People needed a reason to show up, to remember why they love this place.
Grant sits back down, flipping open a folder. “So. Let’s get to it. We’re already planning next year, and I’ve been talking to a few sponsors from out of town. There’s a chance to expand the rodeo part of the festival, maybe even make it two nights instead of one.”
Ruth brightens. “Tourism numbers shot up this season. If we lean into it, we could bring more business into the valley. We’ve got the land, the arenas, the crowd draw. And let’s be honest—people come out because the rodeo performers know how to put on a show.”
I shrug, but a small smile tugs at my mouth. “Tex does most of that. I just hold the gates.”
Ruth laughs. “Don’t undersell yourself. Folks love watching you ride Whiskey Jack.”
“Whiskey Jack loves attention,” I say. “Always has.”
Grant cuts in, flipping to another page. “Speaking of rodeo talent… I’ve got someone new I want to bring in next year.”
Ruth’s eyebrows lift, interested. Mine twitch, curious. Grant leans forward, palms pressed to the folder like he’s about to reveal a state secret.
“Tripp Hollister.”
The name hits the air like a thrown lasso. Ruth gasps, delighted. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope,” Grant says. “He’s interested in coming down for the festival. Maybe performing in the arena. Maybe a short demo. Maybe signing autographs.”
“Tripp Hollister?” Ruth repeats, like she can’t believe it. “The Tripp Hollister?”
Grant grins. “The one who did that Wrangler Jeans campaign last year. The one who ended up on the cover of Western Life Magazine. The one who rode in Vegas and had that viral clip of him jumping the rails.”
I know exactly who he means. The guy’s everywhere lately. Lean, blond, loud. Good at the sport, no denying that. But he’s also the kind of rider who knows which camera to wink at.
Grant turns to me. “You’ve seen him, right?”
“Yeah,” I say. “I’ve seen him on TV.”
Ruth is still buzzing. “He’s practically a celebrity. People love him. He’d bring a huge crowd.”
“He’d also bring the sponsors with deeper pockets,” Grant says. “Wrangler, maybe Ariat, maybe a feed brand or two. Could help cover festival costs. Could help the arena get the upgrades it needs.”
I cross my arms, leaning back. “What’s the catch?”
“No catch,” Grant says. “He’s young, he’s got fans, and he wants to make a tour of smaller towns. Prairie Pine is small, but it’s beautiful, it’s safe, and it’s got the ranches. He likes the idea of that.”
He says it all like good news. Like this is going to change everything in a way that only benefits us. And maybe he’s right.
But I can already hear Tex cursing if he finds out someone else is about to roll into town and steal his spotlight.
“He’s good,” I say. “Real good.”
“That’s the point.” Grant flips the folder closed. “Tex has a strong following, but bringing in someone like Tripp creates hype. Competition makes people talk. People talking means ticket sales.”
Ruth nods. “And if the festival grows, the whole town benefits.”
I tap my boot against the leg of the chair. “Tex won’t like this.”
Grant stiffens for a moment. “He’ll manage.”
“You sure about that?” I ask.
“I’m sure that this is the right call for the festival,” he says. “And Tex is a professional. He’ll rise to the challenge.”
I don’t argue. Not because I agree, but because arguing won’t change where Grant’s aiming. He’s always thinking five years ahead. He’s always looking for what will bring cash and attention to the valley.
And riding against another cowboy isn’t a problem for Tex—unless the guy is famous enough to change the entire energy of an arena.
Ruth smooths the sleeve of her blazer. “I can already imagine the posters. Tripp Hollister in Prairie Pine? That’d get people from two counties over.”
Grant lights up. “Exactly.”
I look between them, then drop my gaze to the folder. Grant didn’t bring me in here to ask permission. He brought me in as a courtesy.
Like telling me ahead of time will help soften the blow when this news gets out. Or when Tex finds out.
Grant’s phone buzzes. He checks it, pockets it, and says, “I’m meeting with Tripp’s agent later this week. If all goes well, we’ll set a date for him to visit the arena, check out the grounds, and meet the sponsor committee.”
Ruth beams. “This could change everything.”
“It could,” Grant echoes.
I take a slow breath, watching Grant’s excitement spark. Watching Ruth picture numbers and benefits. Watching the town they’re trying to grow in ways that didn’t seem possible ten years ago.
“So,” Grant says, folding his hands. “What do you think?”
I choose my words carefully. “I think he’s a hell of a rider.”
Grant nods, expecting more.
“And I think Tex will have opinions.”
Ruth laughs again, softer this time. “Of course he will. He’s Tex.”
“And that’s why I’m telling you now,” Grant adds. “I want to bring in someone who’ll push him. Someone who’ll raise the bar. He’s already good, but this could make him better.”
“He’s not going to see it that way,” I say.
Grant sighs. “Then maybe you talk to him.”
“Me?”
“You know him better than anyone.”
I shift, crossing my arms again. “I’ll talk to him. But I’m not promising he’ll be thrilled.”
“I wouldn’t expect him to be,” Grant says. “Just give him the facts. If I send this out in a newsletter, he’ll feel blindsided. Better he hears it from someone he trusts.”
I grunt in agreement. Ruth looks between the two of us like she knows there’s a storm brewing even before anything has been said out loud.
Grant stands, signaling the meeting is wrapping up. “The festival was a win. This is another chance to keep that momentum going. Tripp Hollister could help put Prairie Pine on the map.”
I rise from the chair. Ruth does the same, tucking her mug under her arm.
“I’ll talk to Tex,” I say.
“Good,” Grant says. “And Billy?”
“Yeah?”
He gives me a knowing smile. “Try not to make it sound like bad news.”
I huff out a breath. “I’ll try.”
Ruth pats my arm as she moves to the door. “Tell your brothers I said hi. And tell Tex he’d better be ready. Competition keeps a man sharp.”
I follow them out into the hall. Grant goes back into his office. Ruth heads toward the stairs. I stand there for a moment, hands on my hips, drawing in a slow breath.
Tex isn’t going to like this.
But that’s a problem for later.