Lucinda Bergamot pushed her thick glasses higher on her aquiline nose and snorted in disgust—so much for being an investigative journalist. All her life she'd dreamed of "tracking the money" or "shadowing the bad-guys" or "exposing corrupt politicians," and what had her new boss saddled her with—pun intended—a cowboy. Boring.
Her Uber driver parked in front of the gate to the Granbury, Texas rodeo and she grudgingly exited the car, handing over a generous tip. She may be a low-paid reporter, but she wasn't stingy. Waitressing tables throughout college and after graduation, until she'd landed a job with the Seattle Daily, had been her sole means of support and she'd dealt with enough stingy people to last a lifetime.
She hefted the shoulder strap of her large briefcase higher on one shoulder and the strap of her equally large purse, on the other. The driver lifted her suitcase from the trunk of his late model Toyota Camry and pulled out the handle, transferring the case to her. The middle-aged cowboy tipped a finger to his brow and said, "You have a nice day, ma'am."
Lucinda huffed and nodded. "That may not be possible, but I'll try."
The cowboy gave her a curious look, shrugged, and was soon history as he raced to his next customer.
Lucinda faced the gate leading into the rodeo grounds and almost cried. She knew nothing about rodeos or cowboys. She had been raised in Escondido, California and moved to Seattle after landing her first and current job as a reporter with such a popular and controversial newspaper. That was six months previous and, so far, her investigative skills had involved divulging the ingredients of a famous coffee drink, discovering the secret location of a local socialite's wedding to a porn star, and exposing a group dedicated to sifting through high-profile people's garbage cans looking for stories to sell to the tabloids—and those were her major accomplishments. Her minor ones were even worse.
Reaching into the pocket of her linen slacks she retrieved her cell phone and punched speed dial.
"Hello," said a female.
"Hello. I'm the journalist sent by the Seattle Daily and my instructions were to call this number when I'm outside the gate." She paused. "I'm outside the gate."
The woman said with enthusiasm, "Great! I'm on my way! I'm wearing a pink shirt with a Levi vest and jeans. Give me five minutes."
"See you soon," replied Lucinda without enthusiasm. She disconnected and thought, Pink shirt, Levi vest and jeans. How much worse can things get? She pushed her glasses up her nose again and smoothed a hand over her short-cropped black hair. Years ago she'd opted for the easy, gel-and-go style, because she didn't have the time, or inclination, to deal with curling irons or steam curlers. As for makeup, a little blusher, eyebrow pencil, and lipstick sufficed. She never wore mascara because if she didn't settle her glasses just right, her eyelashes bumped the lenses and the mascara flaked off.
Lucinda telescoped her suitcase handle back down and sat on the case, waiting for her big "exposé" to begin.
Within minutes she saw a blond woman pause momentarily at the gate, speak to the cowboy accepting tickets, laugh, and step outside the enclosure. You've got to be kidding. Lucinda wondered if her day could get much worse. The "Barbie doll" cowgirl scanned the people as Lucinda stood to her five foot height and gave a reticent wave. She groaned as the exceedingly beautiful woman dressed in a hot pink western shirt with fringe across the bodice, grinned widely, returned her wave, and hurried toward her. Lucinda adjusted her glasses again, pulled out the handle of her suitcase, and rolled it toward a woman who turned every head around her. She had the kind of beauty no average woman wanted to be compared to.
The cowgirl reached her and said cheerily, "Hello! My name is Angel Martinez. I'm Eli's assistant." She glanced at Lucinda's briefcase. "Would you like me to carry that?"
Lucinda stifled a groan. Angel? The woman's name is Angel? Figures. Politely, she replied, "No. I've got it." There was an awkward silence and then Lucinda stuck out her hand for a shake. "Lucinda Bergamot. I'm pleased to meet you."
The "Barbie" warmly shook her hand and said, "Just follow me and I'll show you to the RV we're sharing. It's fantastic! Before I started working for the Brightman brothers, it was the one Harris and Eli used. But they insisted I stay in it. They're bunking together in another motorhome that's also our office." They reached the gatekeeper and Angel said, "Lucinda, I'd like you to meet Sidewinder. He's employed by several rodeo circuits and we'd be lost without him."
Sidewinder tipped his hat at Lucinda as Angel said to the gnarly looking cowboy, "Lucinda's writing an article about Harris detailing the life of a rodeo champion."
Sidewinder grinned widely and rubbed the gray stubble on his chin between his thumb and index finger. "Is that right? Well, Missy Lucinda, you couldn't have picked a better person than Harris Brightman. He's jus' 'bout the nicest person God ever created." He glanced at Angel and his eyes beamed. "That is 'ceptin' for Miz Angel, here."
Angel leaned forward and kissed Sidewinder's whiskered cheek. "You're wrong about that Sidewinder. The nicest person is you."
The cowboy actually blushed and mumbled something Lucinda couldn't understand. Inwardly, she rolled her eyes and wanted to stick her finger down her throat at the over-the-top display of affection. Instead, she fiddled with settling her purse more securely on her shoulder. Since she wasn't an overly demonstrative person, this was becoming embarrassing.
Angel said to Lucinda, "You sure you don't want me to carry something?"
"No. No. I've got it."
As Angel and Lucinda walked past Sidewinder, Angel said, "See you later, cowboy!"
"You betcha, Miz Angel," replied Sidewinder as a family dressed to the hilt in western clothing stepped to the gate. Lucinda followed Angel past horses and cows in corrals to a large lot packed with RVs of every type.
Angel pointed. "Our traveling home is that brown one with blue and gold pen striping. Some of the rodeos, like this one, have their own RV parking, but other times we have to rent space at outside parks."
Lucinda was impressed by the motorhome. For some reason, she'd envisioned a horse trailer with a sleeping loft. They reached the RV and Angel opened the door, waiting for Lucinda to enter first. Lucinda lowered the handle on her suitcase to pick it up, but Angel grabbed it and said, "I've got it." Rather than argue over a suitcase, Lucinda replied, "Thank you," and entered the vehicle.
It was magnificent.
Angel followed her inside carrying the suitcase and asked, "What do you think?"
Lucinda puffed a breath. "It's the nicest RV I've ever been in." It sure kicks ass over my apartment.
Angel said, "The three slide-outs make it roomy. There's even a washer and dryer and dishwasher. Come on, I'll show you to your room and then take you on a tour of your home-away-from-home, and then the rodeo grounds. Today is the livestock show and the rodeo starts tomorrow. We might even run into Eli and Harris.