Page 86 of Take Me Home

Stepping closer to him, I wrap my arms around his waist. He hugs me back, resting his chin on the top of my head. When he pulls back, that sadness I spotted earlier is back. Maybe he’s just bummed that I’m leaving tomorrow.

Before I can ask him if everything’s okay, Hank and Otto come over to greet him. “Linc, I believe you single-handedly funded the new playground for Marmot Elementary,” Otto teases.

Lincoln shakes his head. “Next year it’s Wayne’s turn for this bullshit.”

Hank and Otto laugh.

“Roping starts soon, then barrels. So should we head over and grab some seats to watch Owen and Wayne?” Lincoln asks, not quite looking at me.

“Yeah,” Otto answers. “Let’s get a good spot before they’re all taken.” He and Hank walk off together toward a gigantic metal building where the rodeo takes place.

Blair smiles at me, then rushes to follow them, leaving me alone with Lincoln.

Finally, he looks at me. “You enjoying yourself?”

“Yeah,” I say. “That dunk tank was better than a wet T-shirt contest.”

I’m hoping the joke breaks whatever weird tension is happening. Lincoln chuckles, but it sounds forced. He rests his hand on the small of my back, giving me a gentle nudge toward the rodeo arena.

We walk quietly, and I wonder what the hell happened between this morning when he couldn’t keep his hands off me, and now.

“Is everything okay?” I finally ask, unable to handle the awkwardness.

He blows out a heavy sigh. “Sorry, yeah, I’m just tired.”

Lincoln smiles at me, seeming more himself.

I smile back, looping my arm through his as we make our way down Main Street. The closer we get to the arena, the louder the country music and cheering crowd are. The building is all lit up with a massive Honey Badger Hoedown banner hung above the entrance.

“You know,” I muse. “This actually is my first rodeo.”

Lincoln chuckles, kicking his boot softly against mine. “I could tell by the white boots.”

My head falls back as I laugh. “You sound just like Hank.”

“Linc! Hattie!” someone yells from the bleachers.

We look up to see Jackson waving at us. Hank, Otto, and Blair are with him, so we head toward them.

“Hey, we saved you guys seats,” Jackson says once we’re in their row.

He didn’t bother trying to blend in with the cowboys. Instead, he looks like he came straight from work. He’s wearing gray dress pants, leather shoes, and a light blue button-down.

Lincoln and I scoot in and sit down. Blair trades places with Jackson to sit next to me.

“Is there room for Poppy and Tripp, too?” Lincoln asks the guys.

Jackson’s eyebrows raise, and he absently smooths his hand through his hair. His body language makes me think he’s nervous.

“I think so,” he says. “We can squish.”

Ten minutes later, Poppy and Tripp arrive and the rodeo begins. Tripp settles on Lincoln’s lap, and they’re adorable in their matching hoodies. Lincoln seems to liven up the more the evening goes on. He’s smiling now, tickling his nephew and cheering as the rodeo clowns run into the arena.

It’s fun getting caught up in the booing and cheering of the crowd as each roper makes their debut. The whole scene differs vastly from an equestrian competition. But I like to think a love for horses transcends all equine sports.

When it’s finally Owen’s turn, we all stand and make a ruckus. He smiles up at us, removing his cowboy hat and waving it in the air. But when they hand him the rope, his head goes down, and he’s zoned in. The moment his lasso coils around his fist, Owen is laser focused.

The gates open, a steer darts out into the arena, and before I can say rodeo, Owen has the steer roped. He flies down off his horse, quickly manhandling the steer down onto the soft dirt then hog-tying the legs.