Colby (BBW Western Bear Shifter Romance) (Rodeo Bears Book 3) by Becca Fanning Page B

he mused. “I’m glad you’re here. There’s something I want to talk to you about.”

    He sounded serious. “Please don’t say your will,” she pleaded, “because I don’t want to even think about that. You keep your money. I just want you.”

    “Come here.” He took her hand when she met him at his bedside. “I’m humbled to hear it,” he said, emotional. “But I don’t want to talk about my will either. That’s for lawyers to discuss. I want to talk about Mesa. Go in my place. Wear my boots. I can’t go, and there are very few people I trust to run the show.”

    Mary Beth was appalled. “Papa, I can’t leave you. What if… No. I’m sorry, but you’ll have to send someone else. What about Owen?”

    “Owen is a competitor. He can’t be affiliated with the business, not on a professional level. Please. Do this for me. Mesa is where I met your mama. It’s special to me. It’s special to you too. At least, it used to be. The three of us always went together.”

    “I haven’t been to a rodeo since I was fifteen,” she reminded him. “I’m not even sure I can tell the difference between a horse and a cow anymore.”

    “Joke all you want, my girl, but I know the rodeo still lives on within you. You didn’t quit because you hate it. You quit because you got bored, but you’re all grown up now. I think you’ll enjoy it again. Owen will be there. If you have any questions, he’ll help.”

    She could see how much going to Mesa meant to her papa. If these were his last days, she couldn’t deny him his final wish, so she reluctantly agreed. “Only if you promise to still be here when I get back. And if the whole place burns down, it’s on you. You don’t send a rabbit out to catch a snake.”

    He snorted. “You’re no rabbit, Mary Beth.”

    “You calling me a snake?” she teased despite her grief.

    “No. You’re no snake either. You’re sunshine.”

    She smiled. “Well, don’t be telling that to your staff. I plan to use their fear of me to my advantage. That includes Owen.”

    He nodded, contemplative. Then he asked, “If anything did happen to me, you and Owen would put your differences aside, wouldn’t you? The two of you would keep my legacy going? The rodeo can’t stop, no matter how many cows go home.”

    “Sure,” she said. “We’d try.”

    He looked disappointed. “I really wish you were better at telling lies.”

    ***

    To her relief, it turned out there wasn’t much Mary Beth had to do in Mesa. The people her papa had hired did their jobs well. All she really had to do was smile big and put the fear in anyone she thought might slack off. In a way, it was like hosting a big party. She could handle that. She was the queen of parties. Wearing stilettos paired with a floral skirt and oversized blouse, Mary Beth made her rounds, introducing herself to those in expensive fabrics, figuring they were her papa’s comrades, unlike the rodeo folk in their faded T-shirts and ripped jeans.

    If there was one thing she had learned from her experiences when she was younger, it was that each rodeo was different. Smaller rodeos were usually outdoors in an arena where the crowd gathered around the fences. The larger televised events were in grand stadiums where thousands looked down at the arena. Mesa was a combination of the two. It would be filmed to air on television, but it was all outdoors, including the giant arena, where the men would ride their bulls and broncos, and they would rope their calves, and the barrelmen would entertain the crowd. The men and the women, actually. Mary Beth had been impressed to see there was a women’s bull riding competition scheduled. There hadn’t been the last time she stood so close to a pen.

    The Mesa rodeo also had a fair. Surrounding the arena were countless games, rides, and food stands. There was also a convergence of beer tents where the fans liquored up before the bull riders claimed their eight seconds.

    Meeting and