Page 52 of Falling for Forever

He lifted his tray out of the way of two children darting through the crowd. Their mother caught the younger one by the shoulder before he could double back. “Sorry,” she called. Chet gave her a smile and kept his drink safely above the boy’s reach.

By the time he reached the bleachers, the announcer was calling the next competitors to get ready. Chet climbed the steps, scanning the benches for somewhere to sit.

He scooted along the bench until he found an open spot. It wasn’t big. There was barely any room between him and another cowboy who was already seated with a bottle of root beer in hand.

The stranger jerked his chin in a nod and offered a smile. Chet did the same.

The stranger moved his boot beneath the bench to give Chet more room. “Careful. That board tips if you put your drink on it.”

Chet caught his cup just as it started to lean. “Appreciate the warning.”

When the first event started, the crowd erupted with cheers. It was a bronc riding competition, but it was for the lower-level adults. If Chet had to guess, a few of these competitors had taken lessons from Tate. That was his specialty, after all.

He leaned a little closer to the stranger. “Do you know if the adolescent age group has competed yet?”

The stranger took a pull from his soda. “Yeah, they wrapped up about twenty minutes ago.” He cut Chet a look briefly. “Sorry if you missed something.”

“Just curious. Thanks.”

“No problem.”

They sat without talking until a rider nearly lost his seat, then recovered. Chet leaned forward, his food forgotten for a moment, and the man beside him made a low sound of encouragement. When the buzzer sounded, they both clapped.

“Thought he was done for,” the stranger said.

Chet smiled. “So did he, probably.”

As the next rider got ready, they fell into conversation. Chet mentioned the years he’d spent competing and the horse-training business he now ran with Jason.

“That’s real awesome, man. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who used to compete but picked differently. Most of the guys who work the rodeo circuit don’t really quit on their terms, you know?”

“Oh, I know,” Chet said. He held out a hand. “Chet.”

“Colt.”

“And what about you? Have you ever considered competing?”

Colt chuckled. “Who hasn’t when they’ve grown up in this kind of world? But, no. I don’t think I’d be any good at it. I’d rather not risk my life on a regular basis.”

They both chuckled. “Is that why you quit?” Colt asked when there was a break between two cowboys. “You didn’t want to get hurt?”

Chet shook his head. “Honestly, no. I got tired of it. All the packing up and driving to the next place. I’d win something, go celebrate, and then it’d be time to leave again.”

“Did you grow up here?”

“I grew up all over. But this place called to me and when I was ready to hang up my spurs, I chose to settle down.” He pictured the barn waiting for him at home and smiled.

“I get you. This place is amazing. I drove through a year or so ago. It stuck with me. I’m thinking of making it a permanent place, too.”

“Why don’t you?” Chet squinted at Colt, his curiosity getting the better of him. “I mean, what’s stopping you?”

Colt shrugged. “Have to find a job first. Can’t exactly try to settle down in a place when there’s no way to put a roof over my head or food on the table, you know?”

“What kind of work are you looking for?”

“Probably just farm work. I’ve got experience being a ranch hand. But even that seems to be a job that not many are hiring for. I’ve asked around a little and I even got sent over to Sagebrush. But they don’t need anyone.”

Chet chuckled. “Yeah, Sagebrush probably has their hands full. From what I understand, it’s been a while, but the owners reached out to their extended family and invited all of them to come help out. It’s an amazing setup. One great big compound.”