But even with four older brothers, she knew squat about men. Well, one man in particular, Boone Rasmussen. And after tonight, she felt even more confused. She wasn’t even sure that once she got his attention, talked to him, that she would even like him. Worse, she couldn’t get that one instant, when he’d reached through the fence, out of her mind. What had fallen on the ground?

  “Dusty?” Letty was a few yards ahead, looking back at her.

  Dusty hadn’t realized that she’d stopped walking.

  But then again, she was a McCall. She’d been raised to go after what she wanted. And anyway, she couldn’t wait around for Boone to make the first move. Heck, she could be ninety before that happened. She was also curious about what Boone had dropped. Stubborn determination and unbridled curiosity, a deadly combination.

  “Oh, shoot, I forgot something,” Dusty said, already walking backward toward the arena. “I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

  Letty started to argue with her, but then just nodded with a look that said she knew only too well what Dusty was up to.

  She thought again about the look she’d seen on Boone’s face earlier and felt a shiver as she wandered back through the dark arena.

  The outdoor arena looked alien with all the lights off, no crowds cheering from the empty stands, no bulls banging around in the chutes or cowboys hanging on the fences. Even the concession stands were locked up.

  As Dusty headed toward the chutes, stars glittered in the dark sky overhead. The scent of dust, manure and fried grease still hung in the air. She felt a low hum in her body that seemed to grow stronger as she neared the chutes, as if the night were filled with electricity.

  The same excited feeling she’d had the first time she’d seen Boone Rasmussen a few weeks before. He’d been sitting on a fence by the bull chutes, his cowboy hat pulled low over his dark eyes. He’d taken her breath away and set something off inside her. Since then, Dusty hadn’t been able to think straight.

  Like now. If she had a lick of sense, she’d turn around and hightail it out of here. She heard the scuffle of feet in the dirt behind the chutes, a restless whisper of movement and saw a dozen large shapes milling inside a corral. The bucking horses.

  The roughstock contractor hadn’t finished loading up. That meant Boone could still be here since he had been working with Monte Edgewood, who provided the stock for the rodeo. Maybe Boone had stayed behind to help load the horses.

  She climbed over the gate into the chutes. It was dark, but the stars and distant lights of the city cast a faint glow over the rodeo grounds. She moved along the chutes, stopping when she heard voices.

  She looked past the empty corral and the one with the bucking horses and saw what appeared to be several cowboys. All she could really see were their hats etched against the darkness. Boone? She couldn’t be sure unless she got a little closer.

  Climbing over the fence, she dropped into an empty corral next to the one with the bucking horses. On the cool night breeze came the low murmur of voices. She felt her stomach roil as she tried to think of what she would say to Boone if that was him back there.

  Unfortunately, she found herself tongue-tied whenever she saw him. She’d never had trouble speaking her mind. Quite the opposite. What the devil was wrong with her?

  She knew she couldn’t keep trying to get his attention the way she would have when she was ten. She had a flash of memory of her bucking horse ride earlier and Boone completely missing it. She still hurt from the landing. And the humiliation of her desperation.

  Through the milling horses, she caught sight of the dark silhouette of three cowboy hats on the far side of the corrals. She couldn’t see enough of the men to tell if one of them was Boone. It was too dark, and the horses blocked all but the men’s heads and shoulders.

  She stepped on one rung of the fence and tried to peer over the horses, surprised to hear the men’s voices rise in anger. She couldn’t catch the words, but the tone made it clear they were in a dispute over something.

  She recognized Boone’s voice and could almost feel the anger in it. Suddenly, it stopped. Eerie silence dropped over the arena.

  Hurriedly she dropped back down into the corral, hoping he hadn’t seen her, but knowing he must have. She felt her face flush with embarrassment. What if he thought she was spying on him? Or even worse, stalking him?

  BOONE CAUGHT MOVEMENT beyond the horses in the corral and held up his hand to silence the other two.

  A light shone near the rodeo grounds exit, but the arena and corrals lay in darkness. He stared past the horses, wondering if his eyes had been playing tricks on him. Through a break in the horses, he saw a figure crouch down.

  “Go on, get out of here,” he whispered.

  Lamar nodded and headed for the semitruck and trailer with Devil’s Tornado inside.

  Boone glanced at Waylon Dobbs. The rodeo veterinarian looked scared and ready to run, but he hadn’t moved.

  “Who is it?” Waylon whispered.

  Boone motioned with an impatient shake of his head that he didn’t know and for Waylon to leave. “I’ll take care of it. Go. We’re finished here anyway.”

  Slipping through the fence into the corral with the bucking horses, Boone used the horses to conceal himself as he worked his way to the far gate—the gate that would send the massive horses back into the corral where he’d just seen someone spying on them.

  Had the person heard what they’d been saying? He couldn’t take the chance. Everyone knew accidents happened all the time when nosy people got caught where they didn’t belong.

  The horses began to move restlessly around the corral, nervous with him among them. His jaw tightened as he thought about who was just beyond the horses. He couldn’t see anyone, but he knew the person was still there.

  Carefully, he unlocked the gate and stepped back in the shadows out of the way of the horses. Whoever had been spying on him was in for a surprise.

  Chapter Three

  Ty Coltrane cupped his hands around his eyes and tried to see into the dark semitrailer. He could smell the bull, hear him breathing, but he couldn’t see anything.

  Unfortunately, there didn’t seem to be anything to see. Devil’s Tornado was so calm now that the bull had him doubting he’d seen anything unusual earlier.

  Rodeo roughstock were raised to be as rank as possible. No one—not the bull rider, nor the audience—wanted a bull that didn’t buck, that didn’t put on show, that let the rider score big.

  Devil’s Tornado had done that and more.

  So why had Ty stayed until the rodeo was over to sneak back here and get another peek at that bull? Because he couldn’t forget what he’d seen in that bull’s eyes. Or quit wondering what Rasmussen had done to the bull as it came down the exit chute.

  But he wasn’t going to find out anything tonight.

  Earlier, he thought he’d heard voices over by the corrals, but hadn’t been close enough to recognize them. When he’d been looking into the back of the semitrailer, he’d heard what sounded like the voices escalate into an argument.

  But suddenly he realized that he couldn’t hear them anymore. A sliver of worry burrowed itself under his skin. He didn’t want to be caught back here snooping around the trailer. If he had reason to be suspicious, he didn’t want Rasmussen or his cowboy thug getting wind of it.

  He moved along the side of the trailer in time to see a short, squat figure moving toward a shiny black Lincoln. Veterinarian Waylon Dobbs.

  The sound of the semitruck door opening made Ty jump. He peered between trailer and cab and caught a glimpse of Lamar Nichols a moment before the springs on the cab seat groaned under the big cowboy’s weight. The semi’s engine roared to life. Ty realized he’d be in clear view once the truck pulled away.

  He glanced toward the horses in the corral and caught a glimpse of someone over by the gate. Boone Rasmussen.

  In that instant, Ty felt a wave of apprehension as he realized that the voices he’d heard raised in argument had to have been those of veterinarian Waylon Dobbs, Boone Rasmussen and his employee, Lamar Nichols.

  What the hell had they been arguing about? Devil’s Tornado? Had the veterinarian seen what Ty had and confronted Rasmussen?

  As Ty stared through the darkness past the horses, he heard the faint squeak of a gate and realized Rasmussen had just opened the gate to let the large bucking horses back through toward the arena.

  Now why would he do that?

  The semitruck pulled away and Ty made a run for the corrals hoping Lamar wouldn’t glance back.

  Ty hadn’t gone two feet when he saw Lamar’s face reflected in the side mirror. The cowboy slammed on the semi’s brakes as Ty slipped through the corral fence, disappearing into the dark.

  DUSTY LISTENED, afraid to move. She heard the sound of the semitruck engine and what could have been another vehicle starting to leave. She waited, crouched in the darkness just inside the empty corral.

  She felt like a fool. Could her timing be any worse?

  The bucking horses in the next corral began to mill nervously, as if they were also aware of her presence.

  She really needed to get out of here—hopefully, without being seen again. She tucked her long blond braid up under her western straw hat and tried to see through the moving horses. Dust rose around them. Her legs were starting to cramp. She leaned forward, one hand holding on to her leather-fringed shoulder bag, the other dropping to the soft earth. Her fingers felt something cold and hard in the dirt.

  Dusty squinted down, shocked to see a used syringe lying in the dirt. What if one of the horses had stepped on it? Or one of the cows had eaten it? Carefully, she picked it up with two fingers and dropped it into her shoulder bag, planning to throw it away as soon as she reached the trash cans. She forgot about it almost at once as she heard a sound behind her.

  She didn’t dare turn and look. Straightening, she took a breath, rose and started back across the empty corral as if she weren’t dying of embarrassment. Several of the horses snorted, and suddenly the whole bunch began to lap the adjacent corral behind her.

  She winced, realizing she must have spooked them. Leticia had been right. She shouldn’t have come back here looking for Boone. What had happened to her common sense?

  She was halfway across the corral when she heard a gate groan open behind her. She turned, foolishly thinking all might not be lost. Maybe Boone had seen her and come after her. She tried to come up with a good excuse for being there.

  But what she saw was the herd of huge bucking horses pour through the now open corral gate in a stream of pounding hooves, headed right for her.

  Dusty started to run for the fence, her boots sinking in the soft turned earth. But she realized she wouldn’t be able to reach it in time. She swung around, knowing the only way to keep from being trampled was to stand her ground.

  As the horses thundered toward her, she waved her arms wildly, stomped her feet and yelled. The giant horses swelled around her, towering over her, the ground trembling under their weight, dust billowing up around them.

  She could feel hot breath on the back of her neck as the dark shadows of the horses blocked any light from the stars above her. She waved, stomped and yelled as she edged back toward the fence.

  A hand suddenly grabbed the back of her jean jacket and hauled her roughly up onto the rails as the horses circled the dark corral in a dusty stew.

  She turned to face the man who’d just hauled her up on the fence, expecting to see Boone Rasmussen’s handsome face.

  “Ty?” she croaked, unable to hide her disappointment for the second time today. Ty Coltrane. “What are you doing here?” she demanded and shot a look past the corral. There was nothing but darkness where the three men had been earlier. In the distance, she heard the sound of vehicles leaving.

  “How about, ‘Ty, thank you for saving my skinny butt and not for the first time,’” he whispered, dragging her down off the fence. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

  She didn’t argue. She could hear the horses racing around the corral behind her, which meant Boone would have a hard time getting them loaded now. If there was a chance he hadn’t seen her…

  She hightailed it through the space between the grandstands, glad for the darkness as Ty led her toward the nearly empty parking area.

  “What were you doing back there?” Ty demanded once they were a good distance from the arena. He sounded like he always did after bailing her out of one of her messes. He was worse than one of her brothers.

  “None of your business. Don’t you get tired of following me around?”

  It was too dark to see his blue eyes under the brim of his western straw hat. And she was glad of it. He shook his head at her as if he didn’t know what to do with her. How about leaving her alone?

  “My pickup’s parked over there.” He motioned toward the street and his black truck. Her tan ranch pickup was parked in the rodeo lot in the opposite direction. “Think you can make it home without getting into any more trouble?”

  “I do just fine by myself, thank you very much.” She mugged a face at him.

  “Right.”

  She turned and stomped off toward her truck. It appeared to be the only one left in the lot. And to think earlier today she felt some semblance of affection for him.

  As she neared the ranch truck, she realized there was another rig parked on the other side, all but hidden by the size of her truck. She quickened her step. Was it possible Boone had been out here waiting for her this whole time?

  Rounding the front of the truck, she saw that it was only Leticia’s yellow VW Beetle. Letty leaned against the car, waiting.

  Dusty felt a surge of emotion to see that her friend had waited for her.

  “Did you see Boone?” Letty asked.

  Dusty shook her head.

  “What happened? You look like you got rolled in the dirt,” Letty said, straightening in alarm.

  Dusty recounted her tale of woe as Ty made a circle through the empty parking lot, slowing as if he planned to follow Dusty home. But he sped up, seemingly relieved to see Letty with her.

  “Was that Ty Coltrane?” Letty asked, as surprised as Dusty had been to see him earlier.

  “Yes.” She brushed at the dirt on her jeans feeling foolish. “Just my luck, I run into Ty instead of Boone.”

  “What was Ty still doing there?” Letty asked as he left.

  What had he been doing hanging around the rodeo grounds this late? Dusty shook her head, thinking instead about the men she’d heard arguing.

  “You couldn’t tell who the men were that Boone was arguing with?” Letty asked.

  Dusty shook her head. “Boone’s voice was the only one I recognized and I couldn’t hear what he was saying.” The sound of a large truck engine made them both turn to look toward the rodeo grounds again. A semitruck left by the back way.

  The night suddenly seemed darker. A quiet fell over the rodeo grounds. Only a few lights from town could be seen in the distance.

  “I’d better get home.” Letty started to get into her car, as if she were tired and did not want to hear any more about Boone.

  Dusty couldn’t blame her. She touched her sleeve. “Me, too.” Things were weird enough at the ranch. Dusty didn’t want her father worrying about her, and as long as she still lived in the main house… “Thanks for waiting for me.”

  Letty nodded and seemed to hesitate. “Sorry things didn’t work out the way you’d hoped. Boone will come around.”

  Dusty smiled at her friend. Boone, she was beginning to realize, didn’t just make her heart jump or her pulse pound. He made her crazy. No, she thought, he made her reckless, which right now seemed much worse. “Talk to you tomorrow.”

  Letty nodded and waited as Dusty got into the truck and started the engine. They’d brought separate vehicles because Letty had had to work late. Letty followed her all the way north as far as Antelope Flats before honking goodbye as she turned into the motel her parents had left her when they had retired.

  Dusty continued north toward the ranch. Her disappointment hit her the moment she and Letty parted. She’d gone to the rodeo with such high hopes tonight.

  She brushed at her tears of frustration. She hated feeling like this. Worse, acting like this.

  Something flashed in her rearview mirror. She glanced back to see a set of headlights as a vehicle came roaring up the highway behind her.

  The headlights grew brighter, as if whoever was driving was trying to catch her. She couldn’t imagine who it could be, unless Ty had been waiting to follow her home. That would be just like him.

  She shook her head and sped up. Because of the hour, there were no other vehicles on the road. The lights behind her grew brighter and brighter. She glanced back in the rearview mirror, surprised how fast the vehicle was coming up on her.

  The headlights were high, the rig definitely a pickup. That might have narrowed it down in any other place except the ranching town of Antelope Flats, Montana, where trucks outnumbered cars ten to one.

  The truck was right behind her now. She flipped the rearview mirror up so the lights weren’t blinding her. But she was still silhouetted in the glare of them.

  Ahead, through her own headlights, she could see the county road turnoff. She waited, expecting the truck behind her to pass. But instead, it stayed right behind her.

  She touched her brakes, hoping the driver would back off. But he didn’t and she had the horrible feeling that he planned to force her off the road.

  As the turnoff came up, she took the turn onto the county dirt road a little fast, fishtailing on the ruts. Behind her a wall of dust kicked up under her tires.

  Forced to slow a little on the washboard dirt road, she looked back and saw nothing but dust. She tried to relax, thinking she’d lost him. It had probably just been somebody with a few too many beers under his belt.

  But she kept her speed up anyway. She knew this road, had driven it since she was twelve and had conned her dad into letting her get her license early, with the stipulation that she was only to drive on the ranch. That wasn’t uncommon for ranch and farm kids in the state of Montana. What was uncommon was Asa McCall allowing it.