His Last Rodeo

Lila’s eyes rolled in Kit’s direction. Kit’s answering shrug was the embodiment of whatever.

Yeah, he was really firing them up. Any more enthusiasm and they’d be asleep.

Ernie raised a beefy hand and Tyler nodded to him, relieved that finally someone cared.

“Does this mean we’ll get more hours?”

Hallelujah for something he could say yes to. “Once we’ve renovated and we’re up and running, you’ll definitely have more hours if you want them.”

Mario, one of the part-time bartenders, yawned. So much for wowing them. Tyler’s gaze went to Kit with a will of its own. She was staring somewhere over his shoulder. He followed the direction of her gaze. She was watching the clock.

This chat wasn’t working, but he didn’t know what else to do except keep going. “We’ll have a lot to offer once the renovations are complete. I’d like to add a restaurant with an outdoor barbecue area. And a stage and a dance floor. I’m going to restore the barn and build a small arena. I’m hoping to start a rodeo school. Any questions?”

Of course not.

Then a hand came up. Not one he wanted to choose. “Kit?”

She gave him a smile laced with ice. “Are you gonna give us a raise?”

Damn it. Trust her to ask what he couldn’t answer. “I’m still going over the figures. I’ll know more after I draw up cost projections, revenue estimates, stuff like that.”

She gave him a cool look. “It just seems like if you have all this money to transform the Dusty Saddle into a one-stop cowboy experience, you must have enough to compensate the people who’ll be doing all the work.”

Ouch. Her cutting summation of his plans stung. She was walking a thin line, but he’d be cool about it, for now. “I’ll work hard, too. And I won’t pay myself until we’re profitable. I’ll certainly consider raises once we start making some money.”

There was a slight stirring among the staff, an exhaled breath of relief. It must have been the right thing to say. Or as close to right as he’d gotten so far. But it was clear he was missing something here. Some chance. He could feel it as sure he knew a bull would shift left or right.

His palms were damp. He wasn’t used to talking like this, trying to inspire others. Put him on a bull and he’d inspire. With actions. With stamina. But with words, he was out of his league. “Look, you all probably know I’ve spent the past few years hitting the rodeos. But I also spent a lot of time with corporate sponsors, doing promotion, stuff like that.”

“‘Me and my Wranglers,’” Lila purred. “Yeah, we saw the commercial.”

Heat crept from his collar to his jaw. In the commercial Lila referred to, the camera had been mainly focused on his ass. “I may not have experience owning a bar. But I learned some stuff about business along the way. I’m no expert, but I have a feeling about this place.”

He paused, gratified to see a few nods from the bouncers and Mario. “I’ve thought my plans through and I know I can make this place profitable. I just need good people around me to do it. I need you, if you’ll give it a try with me.”

“What if we like the Saddle the way it is?” Kit leaned forward, her elbows on the table and, oh boy, her neckline had slid down, treating him to an eyeful of what he should not be looking at. When he raised his glance he saw the fierce emotion in her eyes. She wasn’t giving him a hard time for the heck of it. For some reason, she loved this place, ripped vinyl, filthy floor and all.

“There’s history here. I get that. But let’s be honest, most customers don’t appreciate it. The bar is empty most weeknights.”

“It’s a small town. No one’s out drinking,” Kit shot back.

“It’s a growing town, and the High Country is packed. Look, if we can’t bring more customers in, this place will go under. Chris knew it. He told me himself when he sold it to me. And Kit, weren’t you just asking me about raises?”

She looked at him sharply and he knew he’d hit a nerve.

“You can’t have it both ways,” he said. “You can’t keep the Dusty Saddle the way it’s always been and expect a living wage from it. So we’re going to need to make changes.”

“Don’t get all sentimental, Kit.” Loomis finally looked up from his boot. “More money sounds pretty good to me.”

“Amen,” Ernie added, and Tyler saw several other heads nod around the room.

At least he’d gotten one thing right. He didn’t need everyone on board—and clearly Kit wasn’t signing up for the Tyler Ellis fan club anytime soon—but he needed some of the staff with him. He looked at Kit. “Not all change is bad. It might even be fun.”

“Depends on your idea of fun,” Kit murmured, ostensibly to Lila but loud enough for him to hear, too.

“Any questions?” Tyler deliberately looked over Kit’s head.

“You gonna change the name?” Tim, a bartender, glanced around. “The Dusty Saddle doesn’t really fit what you’re describing.”

“I hadn’t thought about it yet.”

“How about the Last Rodeo?” Kit asked, fluttering her eyelashes innocently when he glared at her. “I mean, since you just had yours, right?”

“Ouch,” Mario murmured.

“Isn’t that a little depressing?” Tim nudged Kit with his elbow. “Not sure we’ll get people in the party spirit with that one.”

“I kind of like it,” Lila countered. “It’s mysterious. Like Tyler’s rodeo days are over and so what comes next?”

“Dance floors and big-screen TVs, apparently,” Kit tossed in. “Not very mysterious, really.”

“Let’s not worry about it now.” A weariness crawled up Tyler’s spine, threatening to bring on the headaches he sometimes got from too many falls in the arena. “Plenty of time to come up with a name. For now, you’ll all pull schedules similar to what you’ve been doing. If you want to change that, let me know.”

He pulled his new business cards—hot off the press—out of his pocket. An old saddle in faded sepia. His name and contact information in bold letters. He handed one to everyone, feeling inexplicably like a tool. “Call me with any questions or concerns. The schedule will be posted Tuesday, like always.”

“We post it on Monday,” Kit corrected.

He glanced her way to see if she was messing with him again. Her slight smile was unreadable. “Chris said Tuesdays.”

“Chris hasn’t done it in five years.”

“Oh.” This was news to him. But there were bound to be surprises. “Okay, so who makes the schedule?”

“Kit,” Lila answered. “She does everything around here.”

Tyler looked at Kit but she regarded him calmly, not offering any confirmation.

“Well, Kit, maybe you and I could meet and you could bring me up to speed.”

“I’m not working today,” she said.

“Okay, so when are you working?”

“I’m not sure, since no one made the schedule.” At Tyler’s exasperated look, she opened her hands in a gesture of innocence. “Hey, I didn’t know. I thought, as the new owner, you might want to take it on.”

Tyler looked around, feeling a twinge of desperation. “So no one knows when they’re working this week?”

Ten heads shook no.