Chapter 17 Amy
SEVENTEEN
AMY
Idropped Cal off in town and headed to my office.
With Mayor Bob Lumley out on sick leave with no known return date, his duties had fallen to me.
Admittedly, I’d been doing most of them for a while now.
According to Laura, Bob had been this town’s mayor since before Jake and Brian were born.
In a town of this size, his role was mostly ceremonial.
Outside of the duties like ribbon cuttings and speech making, he’d spent most of his time—along with the two Bobs who served as part of the town council—schmoozing with the Cattlemen’s Association and keeping the local ranchers happy.
For some, that might seem frivolous, but it was the ranchers who kept this town alive. The workers needed places to live and shop and socialize, and they were the engine that drove the economy.
The amount of messages and queries about everything was overwhelming, so I took Henry’s puzzle piece approach and separated everything out in terms of what it was for and how urgent.
Little by little, I managed to get through the most urgent and then took care of anything that could be handled immediately.
That still left a lengthy to-do list on top of everything rodeo-related.
Six hours later, I wondered what I’d been thinking by agreeing to this date.
When I stood in front of my closet trying to decide on an outfit, there was nothing suitable for a date with a man who made my insides melt.
Which was silly. I was past the age when that should happen.
I wasn’t looking for fireworks and romance, even if the flowers the other night had been a welcome surprise.
I reviewed my choices. Black stretchy knit dress.
I shook my head, too sexy. Red wrap blouse and jeans.
I eyed the outfit, but decided it was too casual.
Something blue. I looked good in blue, maybe even wholesome, which was probably the right look for the evening.
Blue tunic over black leggings with ankle boots.
Hair down around my shoulders, and some makeup, but not full on I’m-going-out makeup. I went into action, getting ready.
“Cal’s here,” Jake called to me. Henry was at the grocery store with Laura or he’d have raced ahead of me to see Cal.
I thought it was nice of Laura to remove part of the audience, hence reducing the awkwardness I was already feeling.
I gave myself one last check in the mirror before going to meet my date.
“Hi, Cal,” I said as I entered the living room, ignoring how fast my heart beat at the sight of him. He was dressed casually in jeans and a western shirt with cowboy boots, and he looked good. “I’m ready to go.”
“I was just telling Cal that you have a midnight curfew.” Jake had his hands on his hips.
“I do?” I said to banter with Jake, who looked like he wasn’t quite joking. I shifted my attention to Cal, whose eyes were sweeping over me with obvious approval. That was a good start to the evening.
“I’ll make sure she gets home safely,” Cal said to Jake, but he didn’t agree to the curfew, I noted.
“Where are we going?” I asked when he opened the truck door for me. He was acting as if this was a real date, which was cute and appreciated.
“Out of town,” he said. “I thought that would be better.”
“Definitely,” I agreed. We drove to Beaumont. It was far enough that folks wouldn’t mistake Cal for Luke.
The place Cal had chosen was a bar I had heard about but never been to called the Tipsy Vandal. It had a funky vibe, caught between the country-western scene and something more urban. I liked the graffiti style wall art and neon lighting. The atmosphere made it easy to relax. The company did, too.
Cal did everything right. Complimented my outfit, held doors, put his hand on the small of my back when we walked through the bar.
I’d known he was charming since I’d had the opportunity to see that in action during interviews, but when he turned that charm exclusively on me, it was very gratifying.
The server dropped off our drinks. We toasted to the success of the rodeo and I added a silent wish for a successful date.
We were interrupted by fans twice. One couple had seen us on the morning show and said they’d just bought tickets to the rodeo.
Another had asked Cal for a selfie and an autograph.
Evidently her son was neurodivergent and a huge fan, and Cal asked her to call him.
He talked to the kid for a few minutes and was incredibly patient with him before handing the phone back to his mom.
“You’re really good at that,” I said. He shrugged off the compliment.
“It comes with the territory. It’s the fans that make rodeos successful. If you piss them off, they won’t come back.”
“While that’s true, I’m sure not all competitors are as kind to the fans as you are. You genuinely seem to like them.”
“Not all of them. Some like to cause trouble or expect you to be at their beck and call. Those kind of people can make it hard,” he admitted.
“Well, tell me some good stories.”
Cal talked about what it was like on the rodeo circuit, constantly moving from town to town.
It sounded exhausting to me, never knowing where you’d sleep next, but he made it all sound fun and interesting.
He talked about competing in Calgary and how busy it was, then he shared a funny story about competing in a rodeo in Australia and the culture clash when he’d managed to put his foot in his mouth.
He made me laugh several times, especially when he pretended to brag about his battle scars from years of competitions.
“I had noticed that one,” I said, tracing my finger over a jagged scar on his right forearm. He usually wore his sleeves down, but he’d rolled them up in the heat of the bar. “Must have been a bad fall.”
“Not at all,” he dismissed it. “The scar itself is way more interesting than how I got it.”
“What happened?” I asked, withdrawing my finger. Touching him was probably not a good idea.
“A steer broke loose when his handlers were trying to load him into his trailer, and I got shoved up against a fence where there was a nail sticking out. Messy, but not serious.”
“Had to hurt,” I said, but he only shrugged and kept the conversation going.
I liked that about him. He knew how to engage others and seemed genuinely interested in learning more about me and Henry and our life in Poplar Springs.
I got so comfortable that I found myself revealing something only a handful of people knew.
“I saw a grief counselor for a year after Luke’s death. I never told Laura, Brian, or Jake.”
“Why not?” His eyes focused on me.
I managed a small smile. “The Thornes don’t do that.
They handle things themselves.” I’d worried that they would judge me for needing help, even though I secretly thought Laura could benefit from talking to someone outside the family as well.
Even with counseling, I still felt guilty about how my relationship with Luke wasn’t what it appeared to everyone, but I’d learned to manage that guilt.
I didn’t tell Cal that, but I did talk about the process of my grief, and it felt good to tell someone.
“Good for you for being brave enough to get help,” he said when I’d talked about my experiences. He’d never interrupted or offered the platitudes that so many people did. He’d just listened.
“I’ve been talking all about my family. Tell me about yours. Do they know you met your birth mom?”
“They do. It was my mom who encouraged me to reach out and say something. Her name is Charlene and my dad’s name is Edmund. I think I already mentioned they run a large construction company down in Austin.”
“You said your sister works there too. You didn’t want to join the family business?”
A shadow passed briefly over his features but it was gone an instant later. “Living in one place isn’t for me. I liked living on the road. Jen likes to tease me, telling me I’m migratory like some bird.”
“I went to school in LA and was planning on finding a job in a major city and living the urban lifestyle,” I said.
He gave me his full attention. “But then I met Luke. The first time he brought me to Poplar Springs, I fell in love with the place and all the people, and it wasn’t long before I couldn’t imagine living anywhere else. ”
“After Luke died, you really never considered moving to a city?”
“I did think about it briefly, just because I thought the career prospects might be better. But the Thornes are my family, and I love my job, and I really do love this town—”
“Which is why you’re working so hard to see the community center rebuilt,” he finished for me.
“Exactly.”
As the bar got more crowded, more patrons recognized him.
A few even came to the table, but he resisted letting anyone make a fuss over him.
He was so different from Luke. Luke loved being the center of attention.
He’d been captain of Pop High’s football team and prom king—in his senior yearbook, he was voted the person most likely to succeed.
When he’d headed off to college, he’d expected that same amount of attention.
He’d gotten it from his fraternity bros, but over time, he’d had to absorb the hard lesson that he wasn’t the big man on campus he’d expected to be.
There were other players who were far better at the sport than he was, and he had to work hard to keep from warming the bench.
On top of that, he’d had to keep his grades up or risk more than a benching.
His football scholarship had been dependent on him maintaining a certain GPA.
I hadn’t known any of that when I’d first met him.
It was partly that strong work ethic and focus he’d learned to exhibit that I’d fallen in love with.
But when I’d moved with him to Poplar Springs, all that had gone away.
I’d been amazed how Luke was revered by seemingly everyone without him having to do much of anything.
Everyone had been happy to talk endlessly about his high school football exploits as if they’d happened days rather than years before.
Many applauded his decision to return home to take over the family ranch, stating how selfless he was to put family first instead of pursuing a professional sports career.
He never bothered to tell anyone that he hadn’t received any offers.
I’d found out about it on accident when I’d seen a text from the assistant coach letting him know that if he wanted to try for the NFL, he’d have to go as a walk on.
One time, when I was pregnant with Henry, we’d argued about his lack of transparency with the town.
I’d told him I knew that he hadn’t gotten any offers, and he’d looked absolutely furious, as if I’d personally betrayed him by bringing up the hard truth instead of letting him live in his little fantasy.
Cal was the exact opposite to Luke. He didn’t focus on making everything about him.
Instead, when we were together, he made me feel important.
That kind of attention was seductive in a way I hadn’t experienced.
The evening wasn’t a practice date, it was a dream one.
Everything about it—the setting, the music, the man.
“How about a dance?” Cal asked after we finished our dinner.
I should say no because dancing with him, being pressed up against him… I shouldn’t. The dream I’d had came back to me again. It had been so visceral that I’d woken up reaching for him across my empty bed. I hesitated for just another second, but I couldn’t resist the temptation.
“I’d like that,” I said. Cal had no idea how difficult it was for me to throw caution to the wind. But I had a feeling he’d be worth it.
He stood and held out his hand to lead me to the dance floor. The music was slow and sultry as he pulled me into his arms. I looped mine around his neck and settled in, feeling that I was meant to be there.
I hadn’t felt this alive in a long time.