Gone Country (Rough Riders #14)(24)

Gavin looked as if he wanted to say something but thought better of it.


Good. Gavin might be a whiz at running his business, but she didn’t need his unsolicited advice on how to run hers. “I’d better head out and see who’s here.”


“You don’t have set hours?”


“No nine to five for ranchers.”


Chapter Ten


“Dad, Marin is here,” Sierra yelled up the stairs.


“Don’t forget I’m going to Quinn and Libby’s for dinner.”


“I know.”


“You’re still spending the night at Marin’s?”


“Yes. God. You’ve already talked to her parents about it.” How embarrassing. Who did stuff like that? “Can I go now?”


“Yes. But—”


Before she bounded out the door she vaguely heard him say her midnight curfew still applied and she had to clean her room tomorrow. She hopped into Marin’s Chevy Blazer and threw her duffel bag in the backseat. “Thanks for picking me up.” She could not wait until she could drive and didn’t have to beg for rides.


“No problem. So you ready for your first Tri-County football game championship?”


“I guess. How is it different from any other high school football game?”


“There’s tailgating. And cowboys fighting. It’s awesome.” Marin cranked the radio and belted out the words to some annoying country ditty. Then she looked over at Sierra. “I just love this song, don’t you?”


“I’m not really a fan of country music.”


Marin gasped. “Oh, Arizona, I’m gonna love getting you countrified.” She scrutinized Sierra’s outfit. “What’s up with the parka?”


“It’s freakin’ cold here.” Sierra paused, unsure. “Truth: do I look ridiculous?”


“Ah, yeah. It won’t be that cold out tonight, so leave it in the truck. Plus what you’re wearing is cute!”


Cute, but she’d freeze her ass off. She should’ve stashed a hoodie in her duffel bag. “Did you finish the English assignment?”


“Yep. I plan to write the report Sunday night. But we’re not talking about homework tonight. We’re gonna get wild.”


Wild? Right. Wild for Marin meant using ketchup and ranch dressing on her fries. Not that Sierra didn’t like her; she liked Marin a lot. They had fun together.


“So…you’ve been here for almost a whole quarter. You got your eye on any guy at school?”


Boone West’s face popped into her mind. He was so unbelievably hot. Those smoky eyes. That hank of hair that fell just a little too far down his forehead. Sigh. That sweet and devilish smile. Not to mention his rocking body.


“Ah hah! I recognize that dreamy look,” Marin accused. “Come on. Spill it. Who?”


Sierra’s thing for Boone wasn’t up for discussion. Not only because she didn’t have a chance with him, but she’d die if Boone ever found out she was crushing on him. She hadn’t told Marin about fixing lunch for Boone or how pervy she’d acted, peeking out the window, watching him work those muscles. “I saw this guy at the C-Mart the other day,” she lied. “He was older. A total cowboy. He flirted with me a little and left before I asked his name.”


“Shame. I’d like to know who he was so I could tell you all about him. Or tell you to avoid him.”


That was another problem she’d discovered living in Sundance. Everybody seemed to know everybody else’s business. “Maybe I’ll get lucky and see him tonight.”


“Cool. So it’s your turn. Ask me who’s been flirting with me nonstop since the last FFA meeting.”



“Who?”


“Mitch Michaels!”


Sierra turned down the radio. “Seriously, Marin? You’re just telling me this now?”


Marin bounced in her seat and squealed, “Yes! I mean, I don’t know if it’ll come to anything, but we’re on the same sales team, selling raffle tickets for the quilt fundraiser.”


“Think he’ll be here tonight?”


“Maybe.”


Hopefully Marin wasn’t the type of friend to ditch her as soon as she hooked a guy. Sierra would never do that to a friend. Not that she’d ever had a real boyfriend. She’d kissed a few guys but none had been worth bringing home to her dad.


“What are we doing after?” Marin asked, tilting the rearview mirror so she could add a coat of lip gloss.


“Have you heard if anything is going on?”


“Dave Darling is having a party at his house. But he’s charging ten bucks a head to cover the booze and you have to pay even if you don’t drink.” Marin didn’t drink, but she didn’t preach about it.


The parking area was packed and Marin ended up parking in the pasture across the road.


Welcome to Wyoming. What would her friends in Arizona say if they saw her now?


What friends? She hadn’t heard much from anyone except a few random Facebook comments and texts.