33. Grace
Grace
Day of the Rodeo
“I cannot believe the day is finally here! And we sold out!” Whit screeches as she bounds over to me once I pull into the parking lot behind the arena. The sun is putting on one hell of a show rising in the distance behind her, coating her auburn curls in a golden hue.
I woke up to an email from our ticket hosting domain declaring our event a sellout. Despite it still being dark out, I phoned Whit immediately to share the news, and I’ve been riding the high ever since.
“We made it, Whit.” We wrap one another in a tight hug, rocking from side to side with glee. “Let’s smash this out the park so we can let our hair down tonight and enjoy our hard work.”
“Sounds like a damn plan.” With a crisp high five, it’s lights out and away we go.
The morning passes in the most spectacular of busy blurs, and before we know it, it’s noon.
The first half of the day was spent running around the entire festival, doing last minute double and triple checks.
After Whit and I were satisfied that everything was in place and ready to go, we split up—I went around every stall to check in, make sure they were still all good after setting up yesterday, and to see if they needed anything else.
While I was kept busy with the stall checks, Whit went around interviewing different stall holders and business owners to put into a post-event highlight reel.
When she showed me a few clips afterwards, it’s clear she’s a natural both in front of the camera and behind it.
“Dec thought it would be better if I stood next to the person to interview them, said it might make them more comfortable than just holding the camera in their face, so he told one of his apprentices to trail me and record,” she told me when the videos changed from just the stall holder, to Whitney and the stall holder.
Dec had a point—people definitely seemed more open and comfortable when Whit was beside them.
Once the interviews and stall holder check ins were done, we met back up in the main arena for the Junior Rodeo Event.
We’d roped in Sonny to host and announce this one, as Tucker was needed behind the chute for coaching and pep talks for the kids.
As the kids were lining up for their appearances, I caught my first glimpse of Tucker.
Would I ever not get butterflies when I looked at him?
God, I’d hope not. He looked so sharp in his Beaumont Rodeo School branded pearl snap shirt and dark blue jeans, and the black cowboy hat atop his head was the cherry on top.
The fact that he looked so at home and right in his element with the kids only added to his appeal.
Whitney and I had watched from the sidelines as the lineup of twenty rodeo school kids competed across their mix of events—bull riding, calf roping, steer riding, and team roping.
A lot of the crowd flooded into the stands to watch the kids, which was so damn heartwarming to see.
Tucker and Rhett had worked so hard with those kids; they all deserved the attention.
Right now, we’re having a late lunch of burgers and fries from one of the food trucks, settling in to watch the Cowboy Demos shortly.
Well, I’m eating. Whitney is still glued to the camera in her hand, snapping candids of the crowd as they file in and find seats.
She’s been doing an amazing job of capturing content—I’ve hardly seen her without her phone or camera in hand so far today.
She doesn’t own her own professional camera yet, so she had to borrow this one from Caroline, a local photographer.
When I asked why Caroline wasn’t just shooting the event herself, Whit got a little awkward and said uhh, it’s not really her…
scene, so I decided to leave it at that.
I’m once again painfully aware of the distinct lack of Tucker. Arriving home yesterday to the irises on the porch, after the mammoth day we’d had, just broke me in the best way.
An incoming text gets my attention.
“Is that Carson again?” Whit asks, her face glued to the view finder.
I glance down at my phone and giggle. “Certainly is.”
Carson
I’m jealous y’all get to watch the cowboys. That was meant to be my entertainment. Not sure I’ll ever forgive you for scheduling things like this so I couldn’t see Rhett riding a horse.
Me
You’re making out like I purposely did that.
Carson
Of course you did. Probably worried I’d make him fall off his horse.
Me
Wouldn’t you though?
Carson
I’d certainly try my best.
“She’s really got it out for your brother,” I say, turning the phone so Whit can read our text exchange.
She lets out a belly laugh that ripples through the surrounding crowd. “She ain’t wrong, though. Rhett’s completely enamored by Cars—he’d for sure fuck up out there if he caught sight of her. It’s for the best she’s stuck backstage.”
Carson
Remind me—Cowboy Auction is how long after I finish?
“Oh no,” I mutter under my breath. Or at least I thought, but apparently it was loud enough for Whit to hear, because she whips her face away from the camera.
“What now?”
I show her Carson’s latest message. Her hazel eyes are wide when she looks up at me.
“You’re thinking what I’m thinking, aren’t you?”
Whit nods.
“She really might put him in an early grave if she bids on him. Because I know Cars, and she’d be bidding to win.” I quickly type out a text and get Whit’s approval before hitting send.
Me
I regret to inform you that you’re banned from participating in the bidding side of the Cowboy Auction. I don’t make the rules, the committee does.
We wait with bated breath as those three little dots pop up and disappear more than once.
Carson
We’ll see about that.
Our eyes meet over the phone, and Whit’s raised brows and creased forehead mirror the way I feel—mildly concerned.
“Well, a very good afternoon to you, ladies and gentleman, and welcome back to the main arena.”
Tucker’s voice might be echoing through the whole arena, but with the way my heart kicks up a notch and my breathing shallows, he might as well be whispering sweet nothings in my ear right here. My hand strays to my neck when I feel a flush of warmth creep up along my throat.
“We’ve got quite the line-up for y’all this afternoon, showcasing some of the best cowboy talent in the world right now, who also happen to be Beaumont Ridge locals.
Let’s give it up for the guys—Elliott and Mason Cartwright, Tāne Tawhiri, and last but certainly not least, my own brother, Rhett Beaumont! ”
The crowd goes wild, hooting and cheering as the guys file out into the arena.
They smile and wave as they circle the dirt stage a couple of times.
Whit and I cheer extra loud when Rhett passes our side, and he tips his hat at us with a broad grin.
The people around us start waving and cheering, and I look over to see our section being highlighted on the big screen.
My phone buzzes on my lap a moment later, and I smile when I see who it is.
Cowboy
Should I be concerned you’re switching to another Beaumont?
Me
Caught my cheering on the big screen, hey?
Cowboy
You look beautiful. I can’t wait to see how you top that tonight.
A hot flush washes across my skin, the way it always seems to when Tucker compliments me.
Me
I’m practically wearing a cowboy’s uniform right now, so I’d hope a ball gown will top that
Cowboy
No spoilers please
I’m sure it’s a beautiful ball gown, but I can’t wait to see it on the floor when I strip it off you later
I giggle, and Whit looks over curiously. When she sees who I’m texting, she scrunches up her nose. “I don’t wanna know.”
Me
No spoilers, promise. I can’t wait to see you in a suit again, though. It’s been a damn long time since prom.
Cowboy
It’s a damn good suit
Got work to do, but I’ll see you tonight
For the next hour, Whit remains solely focused on capturing as much of the demos on camera and film as she can.
She takes a few small breaks to show me some shots—which look incredible—but for the most part she’s occupied.
Which is fine by me, because I’m having a blast watching the show.
I’ve missed this—the atmosphere, the rodeo events, even the smell—so much.
Nobody does it like Tennessee, and especially not Chicago.
I think I’ve been to two rodeos since I left, and neither were even close to this caliber.
As Tucker gets the crowd to give one final round of applause for the cowboys, my phone pings.
Carson
Y’all comin’ backstage or what?
I nudge Whit with my elbow. “Wanna head backstage for Cars?”
“Is the sky blue? Let’s go!” She’s on her feet in an instant, grabbing my hand and politely excusing our way through the crowd until we make it backstage.
When I get a glimpse of Carson, I almost squeal.
She looks fucking incredible. The all black trouser and suit jacket set fits her like a glove, with a chunky black and gold belt cinching in the jacket around her hourglass figure.
Only a black bra is worn beneath, which is shown off perfectly in the deep V of the jacket front.
And that black cowboy hat atop her dark curls is somehow sexy and sophisticated.
“Jesus Christ, you could put a man in his grave in this outfit.”
“The team did good, right?” she says, giving us a twirl.
“Rhett will never recover from this,” Whit mumbles under her breath, shaking her head. “You look so hot, Cars.”
“I feel it too.” The broad smile she gives us warms my heart. “Better get out there, I guess; show’s about to start.” With a wink, she struts out to center stage.
“How we doin’, Beaumont Ridge?” The crowd erupts in response and Carson kicks off her performance.
We’re three songs in when footsteps approach. When we turn, we find Rhett frozen in place behind us.
“Careful, old man, you’ll trip over that jaw of yours if it drops any lower.” I cough out a laugh as Whit raises a brow at her brother, biting back a smirk with her arms crossed over her chest.