It Takes a Cowboy

“Other than the cat, how was your day?”

“Busy. But that’s typical.”

“I wouldn’t think there would be many legal crises in Lightning Creek.”

“You might be surprised,” she said, thinking of a particularly ugly child custody case she had entered into that morning.

“So you really like being a lawyer?”

She smiled at his phrasing. “Most of the time, yes.”

“You said you were with a big law firm before moving to Lightning Creek?”

“Yes, an old, prominent firm in Chicago. I was a very junior partner. In maybe twenty or thirty years, I might have made a full partner.”

“So what do you like better—big city wheeling and dealing or country lawyering?”

“While there are things I enjoyed about my previous position, I like being my own boss and having more control over my practice. There’s more variety to my cases, so it rarely gets boring, though it does get hectic at times.”

“I suspect you have workaholic tendencies.”

“Maybe a few,” she admitted. “But I’m making a few changes to leave me more time for Jeffrey. I’m thinking about advertising for a partner. I had planned to go into partnership with my uncle, but he died before I could join him here.”

“You need time for yourself. Time to get away occasionally and just play. Have you ever been white-water rafting?”

“No.”

“You live in Wyoming, Blair. You should take advantage of the state’s great features.”

“I’m going to a rodeo next weekend,” she said, a bit defensively. “It’s another charity function.” One of her clients, having announced that it was past time Blair learned to live like a native, had insisted on giving her two tickets. She had decided to go for several reasons. Sh

e wanted to fit in with her neighbors in Lightning Creek, she wanted them to think of her as one of them, and she thought Jeffrey might enjoy it.

“Have you ever been to a rodeo?”

“No, this will be my first.”

“You should find it very interesting.” Something in Scott’s voice made her think he was amused.

“I’m sure I will,” she said, resigned to being the object of his good-natured mockery. Now, if only she could figure out what one should wear to a rodeo....

“Sounds like everything is going very well with you.”

“It’s been a good day so far.” She felt as if she should cross her fingers or knock wood or something.

“I want to see you again, Blair. How would you feel about having dinner with me soon?”

“You mean you want to have dinner with Jeffrey and me?”

“I mean I want to have dinner with you. It’s called a date. You do date, don’t you?”

“Not that often,” she confessed. “And especially not since Jeffrey moved in.”

“Don’t you think it’s time you started again? You’ve become a guardian, not a nun.”

That same thought had crossed her mind a few times—most notably since she’d met Scott. But did she really want to start down a path with so very many pitfalls?

“I don’t know, Scott. What about Jeffrey?”