Page 46 of September’s Cowboy Travis

Most weeks, I wanted to be here more than I'd expected.

Travis finished half the sandwich in three bites and glanced at my laptop. “Are you almost done?”

“With lunch?”

“Work.”

“I have a call at one, then I'm free.”

“Good.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Why?”

“I need help in town.”

“With what?”

He took another bite. “Getting ready for the Harvest festival.”

I closed my laptop halfway. “Anything specific?”

“Beau needs help with the wagon.”

“He’s about as big as Paul Bunyan. What could he possibly need my help with?”

Travis pointed the last piece of sandwich at me. “Don't tell him that. His head's big enough.”

“I thought you liked Beau.”

“I do. Doesn't mean I want him getting too cocky around my girl.”

I smiled and reopened my laptop. “So what are we helping with?”

“Nothing complicated. The committee needs people setting up around the Mercantile, and Beau's bringing the Clydesdales in so they can get used to the route.”

“You could have led with Clydesdales.”

“I'll remember that.” He stood and carried the empty plate to the sink, then kissed me properly before heading back outside.

I watched him through the kitchen window until he disappeared toward the barn. Then I made myself go back to work.

Mustang Mountain had started changing for fall almost as soon as the rodeo ended. The trees along Main Street had started turning yellow at the edges, and pumpkins had appeared outside the Mercantile. Someone had already hung a banner across the road announcing the festival, even though the event was still more than two weeks away.

By the time Travis and I reached town that afternoon, several committee members were arguing over where to put hay bales without blocking parking.

Beau stood next to a long stock trailer near the edge of the street. He was unloading a pair of Clydesdales that made Travis's horses look tiny by comparison. The first stepped down carefully, the feathering around his hooves brushing the ramp, then stood next to Beau with his head well above the man's shoulder.

I stopped walking.

Travis looked at me. “Haven’t you ever seen a draft horse?”

“Not up this close and definitely not one that could carry my car.”

“He probably could.”

Beau glanced over. “Are you two planning to help or just stand there insulting my horses?”

“I didn't insult them,” I said. “I insulted my car.”