Hank plopped down. “I’d planned to swoop in and rescue you from Larry the Lech, but you did just fine on your own, darlin’.”
Lainie kept her eyes on the pudgy man as he waddled outside. “Who is he?”
“Larry works for Pro Rodeo magazine. He gets great arena action shots but he also considers himself an investigative reporter and tries to stir things up.” Hank snatched a green olive from her plate. “Nice deflection, by the way.”
“Hank Lawson?”
Both their gazes darted to the man standing at the end of the table. “Yes?”
“I’m Renner Jackson.”
Hank stood and took his outstretched hand. “Renner. Good to meet you. What can I do for you?”
Lainie watched the men sizing each other up. Renner was a good-looking guy. Dark blond hair sun-lightened to gold, deeply tanned features. Silvery blue eyes. Around the same height, build, and age as Hank, but nowhere in Hank’s league, in Lainie’s opinion.
“I thought I’d have Martin give you a heads-up that I wanted to talk to you because I wasn’t sure if you remembered me.”
“I’ll be honest; I recognized your name. But you don’t look familiar.”
Renner chuckled. “Probably because the last time we saw each other we were about seven or eight years old. I lived in Muddy Gap with my grandparents, Rona and Bill Harking, for a year when my dad was stationed overseas. Second grade? In Miz Tatanalli’s class.”
“Ah. Miz Tata’s class. I forgot all about her, even when I recall certain parts of her vividly.”
“Yeah. Me too.”
Hank smiled. “Hey, now I remember. You were the kid that projectile vomited against the bus window.”
“Highlight of my young life,” Renner said dryly. “I left Wyoming right after that when my dad was stationed at Ellsworth Air Force Base in South Dakota.”
“I gotta say, I’m surprised you remember me.”
“What stuck in my head was that you and your brother, Abe, were nice to a transplanted city kid. Much as I appreciated it then, I appreciate it even more now, when I know how locals feel about outsiders.” A quick grin. “Anyway, I got into the rodeo promotion/ stock contracting business a few years back and recognized your name as available for bullfighting services. But I haven’t run into you before now. Mostly I stick to the Midwest circuits and don’t get out West much.”
“I hear ya there.”
“You’ve got a great reputation, so I was happy to see we’d booked you. Anyway, at some point I’d like to sit down and talk to you about a couple of things.”
Hank’s skepticism was evident. “What kind of things?”
Renner looked behind him. “Personal things. As you know, my grandmother sold the place right after my granddad died, which was strange because they only lived there a couple years.”
No response except a cool stare from Hank, which sent an odd chill down Lainie’s spine.
“My dad was a little sketchy on what really happened. It’s always bugged me. Thought maybe once this rodeo season slows down, I could come by your place in Muddy Gap and pick your brain a bit.”
“Sure. I don’t see why not.”
“Great. Thank you. I appreciate it.”
Then Renner did a double take, appearing to have just noticed Lainie. He gave her a wily smile that might’ve made her weak-kneed if she hadn’t spent the last two years steeling herself against those sly cowboy grins.
Yeah, and that had worked so well with Hank and Kyle.
“Shame on me for overlooking such a lovely woman.” He offered his hand. “My sincere apologies. I’m Renner Jackson.”
“Lainie.”
“Lainie . . . ?” Renner repeated, politely inquiring her last name.
“Capshaw,” she supplied. Hank rarely used her last name when introducing her in an effort to protect her from the morbid interest that came along with being the daughter of the infamous and beloved Jason Capshaw.
Almost on cue, Renner’s blue eyes sparked with recognition. “Capshaw . . . As in bull rider Jason Capshaw?”
“Yes. He was my father.”
Renner squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry. I’m sure with people asking you questions about him they forget you lost your father that day, not just one of the world’s greatest bull riders.”
Insightful and good-looking. That was refreshing. “Ah, thank you.”
“I don’t know if you’re aware,” Hank inserted, “but Lainie works for the Lariat Sports Medicine team.”
“I thought you looked familiar. You worked Silver City Roundup last year?”
Lainie tried to recall. “Probably. Why? Did I screw up or something?”
Renner laughed. “No. I remember warning my stock handlers that I’d be watching they didn’t fake injuries so the hot female med tech would treat them.”
She blushed, but managed, “If you need an extra hand tonight in the medical room, I’ll be around.”
“Really? That’d be great.” He pulled a business card out of his ID badge and wrote on the back of it before handing it over. “Give this to Beau.”
“I will. Thank you.”
“No, thank you.” Renner faced Hank and handed him a business card too. “Good luck going up against my stock tonight. If you’re interested in specifics, Pritchett, the chute boss, could fill you in on some of the nastier ones.”