this morning, I ran into a big accident on the interstate just outside Albuquerque. Then, finding this unscheduled Thursday meeting proved tricky, since you’d moved it from the rodeo headquarters.”
The men around the table shifted in their chairs as if they were ashamed of themselves. They continued to avoid her gaze.
“How’s your father?” Mel asked, as if nothing was off-kilter.
She stepped into the elegant meeting room at the new conference center. “He’s improving from the stroke, but we won’t know the extent of the damage for several days. I drove in as his representative on the board.”
“Is that legal?” Norman Burke, one of the board members from Harding County, asked. “I mean, if he can’t talk—”
“You can call my mother or the floor nurse at the hospital, Sylvia Carter, who witnessed Dad nodding for me to represent him until he came back.”
“Oh.”
Erin glanced at the man giving the presentation and caught the hint of a smile that crossed his face before it disappeared.
The muted brush of her boots on the carpet was the only sound in the room as she walked to the empty chair on the opposite side of the table and sat. In front of her was a slick folder that read “Tucumcari Rodeo Proposal by Sawyer Jensen.” Her eyes jerked up and clashed with Melvin’s. He didn’t look away.
“I take it Mr. Jensen won the contract?”
“Yes, we voted for him at the last meeting,” Mel replied, his head held high. “Didn’t anyone tell you?” Too much satisfaction laced his voice. Most of the other board members kept their gazes fixed on the table.
“No, but you know with all the chaos that occurred the day of the vote and Dad having the stroke afterward, it was the last thing on Mom’s mind.”
Norman Burke glared at Mel. “Cut it out, Lowell. The lady has more on her plate than this rodeo.”
“Of course.”
If Mel’s words were meant to be accommodating, they failed.
“You don’t have to stay, Erin, since we’ve already hired Sawyer. I’m sure you’re tired after spending that much time at the hospital. But we wanted Sawyer to meet with us and show us his plan again and answer any further questions we had,” Mel said.
Panic spread through the room. Several of the board members looked as if they wanted to escape, but retreat was the last thing on Erin’s mind. Her hometown needed this revitalization. A successful rodeo would bring in much-needed people and revenue to help their bottom line.
“Thank you for your concern, Mel. But, as I said before, I’ll be Dad’s representative until he’s well enough to come back.”
A couple of men shifted in their chairs; throats were cleared, but no one said anything.
“Sawyer, why don’t you continue explaining your overall plan to us?” Melvin said, ending the tense moment. “I’m sure Erin would like to hear it.”
“We’re on page three, Ms. Delong.” Sawyer nodded to his presentation folder.
Fingering the folder, Erin studied Sawyer Jensen. The handsome man stood over six feet with sandy-brown hair and compelling hazel eyes that did funny things to her stomach, which she ignored. He had a scar on his chin below the corner of his mouth. When his eyes met hers, there was no smugness in those green depths, but admiration, instead. She didn’t understand his reaction, but it eased the blow. As she studied the man, she had the feeling that she’d met him before.
Sawyer started to explain his strategy to save the rodeo and put it back in the black.
Chalking up her body’s reaction to stress and the long drive this morning, Erin opened the folder. She tried to follow Sawyer’s presentation, but it seemed she’d gone deaf and blind. Looking up through her lashes, she saw Melvin studying her. She would not cry in front of him or any of the other board members. Nor would she cry in front of this stranger. That wasn’t Erin Delong’s way. When her ex-boyfriend had announced, at their high school graduation, that he was engaged to Traci Lowell, Mel’s daughter, she hadn’t cried, much to Traci’s disappointment. Maybe Traci’s father thought he could make her cry this time. Of course, the meeting wasn’t finished yet.
By the time they adjourned, Erin couldn’t tell what Sawyer had said. For all she knew he could’ve suggested they burn the old rodeo grounds down and sell tickets to bring in money.
Most of the board members hurried to where Sawyer stood, taking a wide berth around her to shake Sawyer’s hand and comment on his presentation. Their guilty faces made her wonder if they thought she’d throw a fit or break down in tears if they got too close. She could assure them that neither would happen, but they clearly weren’t going to take any chances.
Only Chris Saddler stopped by where she stood.
“I’m sorry you didn’t win, Erin. I voted for you to get the job. With you being local, and knowing the history of the rodeo and what resources we have, I thought you’d be best, instead of an outsider.”
Chris was one of her dad’s friends. She stood. “Thanks, Chris, and thanks for the heads-up this morning. Being at the hospital, you lose sense of time.”
He opened his mouth to say something more, then closed it. He nodded and walked away.
Mel was the last one to shake Sawyer’s hand. “A good presentation. If you have any questions, just call me, Sawyer.”
Snatching the slick folder off the table, Erin headed for the door. Later, when she could think clearly, she’d read it over and evaluate his plan to see how it differed from hers.
“Ms. Delong?”
The deep voice calling her name sent shivers down her spine. It also stopped the other board members in their tracks at the door, no doubt expecting fireworks between her and Sawyer. Torn between wanting to plow through the bodies clogging the way out and facing the man with the wonderful rich voice, she straightened her shoulders, turned and faced him.
He stepped to her side. “Would you mind if we talked?”
Puzzled frowns crossed the board members’ faces, and she heard a couple of them whisper.
“I’d love to, Mr. Jensen—”
“Sawyer is my first name.”
“—Sawyer, but I last ate at seven this morning before visiting my dad in the hospital. After consulting with his doctors and my mother, I drove here. With the delay on the road, I never got the opportunity to eat. I’m probably not good company right now.” Although it was only 1:40 p.m., food would help her thinking and dealing with this mess.
The man flashed a killer smile at her. “I haven’t had anything, either, since breakfast in Amarillo, and I could use some sustenance, too. A full stomach helps me think and helps my attitude. Why don’t we go and get a burger and talk?”
“So you think my attitude is bad?” she asked.
At the tone of her voice, groans erupted from the men at the door.
