But Monte refused to give up on him.

  And that was what Boone was counting on.

  With each passing day, though, the stakes got higher and higher. So did the danger of being caught.

  Sierra sashayed into the room. “What’s going on? You look like you lost your best friend.”

  Monte gave her an indulgent smile and motioned for her. She stepped into his open arms, stroking his hair as she looked across at Boone.

  “A bull rider I admired died in a car accident,” Monte told her. “Clayton T. Brooks. He was quite the rodeo star in his day.”

  “That’s too bad,” Sierra said, her gaze heating up as her eyes locked with Boone’s.

  Boone pushed to his feet. “Need anything from town?”

  Monte shook his head, dropping his gaze again to the table as Sierra stepped away from him. He looked old and tired, and more upset over Clayton than Boone would have expected. It made Boone wonder how well the two had known each other. And if that was a problem he should be worrying about.

  He shoved that worry aside and concentrated on a more immediate one. Judging from her size, it had been a cowgirl he’d seen in the empty corral next to the bucking horses last night after the rodeo. A lucky cowgirl who’d somehow escaped being trampled by the bucking horses.

  Coltrane had fished her out of the corral. Boone had seen the two head for the parking lot. Then he’d lost sight of them. At first, Boone had been worried that she’d overheard him and Lamar arguing with Waylon Dobbs. That alone would have been a loose end he couldn’t afford.

  But he’d seen the cowgirl reach down in the horse corral and pick up something from the ground. His hand had gone to his jacket pocket. The syringe was gone! It must have fallen out of his pocket when he’d climbed over the corral fence earlier.

  He’d seen her put it in her purse! It made no sense. Why had she been there in the first place? Why put a used syringe into her purse?

  “Pick me up some ice cream if you’re going to town,” Sierra said.

  “I’ll buy you some ice cream, sugar,” Monte spoke up.

  Boone glanced back at Monte, trying to read his expression. Monte met his gaze and for an instant, Boone thought he saw something he didn’t like flicker in the older man’s gaze. Just his imagination?

  Well, there would be plenty of time to deal with Monte later—if it came to that.

  And Sierra too, he thought stealing a look at her as he left.

  DUSTY PACED on the porch, mentally kicking herself for asking for Ty’s help. What had she been thinking? Surely she wasn’t that desperate.

  At first, all she saw was the dust on the county road. Her heart lodged in her throat as Ty turned onto the road to the ranch. She would tell him she’d changed her mind. Didn’t women do that all the time?

  She groaned, reminding herself why she was so desperate for a makeover to begin with. But desperate enough to see this through with Ty, of all people?

  He pulled up in the yard and she ran out, jerked open the passenger side door of his pickup and jumped in before she could change her mind—or he could get out.

  He looked over at her and slammed his partially opened door.

  “What?” she asked seeing his annoyed expression.

  “You might have given me a chance to open your door for you,” he said.

  She rolled her eyes. “You have to be kidding. Does anyone do that anymore?”

  “I do when I come by to pick up a woman,” he said, sounding indignant.

  She cut her eyes at him. “Why?”

  “Because it’s polite.”

  “I can open my own door.”

  “That isn’t the point,” he said as he shifted the pickup into gear and started out the gate. “Look, think of dating as a game between men and women with certain rituals involved. There are steps a man and woman go through in the relationship. Certain roles each sex plays.”

  She groaned. “Why does it have to be so complicated? Why can’t we just cut to the chase? Be honest? Tell the person how we feel? Have them tell us how they feel? And if we both feel the same…”

  Ty laughed and shook his head. “Sorry, Slim, but it doesn’t work that way. It’s the anticipation, not knowing what’s going to happen, that adds to the excitement.”

  She thought about Boone. She wanted to know what was going to happen. She couldn’t stand the suspense.

  “It’s all part of the mating ritual. You just need to get into your role.”

  Dusty scoffed. “This role you’re talking about. Tell me it doesn’t mean I have to act helpless because I’m never going to be one of those women,” she informed him haughtily. “So if that’s what I have to do, forget it.” She could feel him studying her out of the corner of his eye as he drove.

  He laughed. “No, you’re never going to be one of those. Lucky for you, there are men who actually like strong independent women. But no man may be ready for you.”

  She punched his arm but laughed with him, then turned to gaze out at the countryside. Was Boone ready for her? White billowing clouds scudded through the summer-blue sky overhead, casting pale shadows over the red rock cliffs, the silken ponderosa pines and tall, dark-green grasses. The land stretched to the horizon. McCall land.

  Dusty welled with pride, never tiring of the landscape. This was her home. Her mother and father hadn’t understood why nothing could dislodge her from the isolated ranch.

  A few months ago, Shelby had cornered her, questioning her about her future. “You need to go to college,” her mother had insisted. “You need a good education.”

  “I have a good education,” Dusty had snapped. “Not that you would know, but I graduated from high school early and have been taking college courses for years online. I’ll have at least two degrees, one in business and another in agriculture by this time next year.”

  “I’m aware of that,” Shelby said tightly. “But it’s not the same as actually attending a university, meeting other people your age, broadening your horizons.”

  Dusty had laughed. “Look at my horizons,” she’d said widening her arms to encompass the ranch. “They’re plenty broad.”

  “What do you have to say?” Shelby had asked turning to her husband.

  Asa had studied Dusty for a long moment. “Dusty’s always known her own mind. Much like her mother,” he’d added, his gaze shifting to Shelby. “I’ve never been able to change either of your minds. And God knows, I’ve tried.”

  Dusty had seen the look that passed between her parents. There was little doubt they had a secret, one she and her brothers obviously weren’t privy to.

  She’d never regretted her decision to stay on the ranch. Her father had given her some acreage to the south and told her she could build a house on it someday if she wanted to—now, or when she got married. Unless the man she married wanted to live elsewhere.

  She had laughed. “I wouldn’t marry anyone who wanted to leave here. Don’t you know me better than that?”

  Her father had frowned. “You haven’t been in love yet. Love changes everything.”

  She had scoffed at the idea. But now as she watched the land blur by, she thought of Boone Rasmussen. Was this love? She felt all jittery inside. Her heart beat out of control half the time. And it made her unsure about everything. Especially herself. Was that love?

  Ty turned onto the highway. Dusty’s shoulder bag rolled off the seat, hitting the floor with a loud thump.

  “What have you got in there? Bricks?”

  “Stuff. A bridle I need to get repaired. Books,” Dusty said scooping the heavy bag up from the floor. “Sometimes I want to read when I have to go into town on errands for the ranch. There’s nothing wrong with reading.”

  He laughed. “I didn’t say there was.” They passed through Antelope Flats, the small Montana town quickly disappearing behind them.

  Dusty reached over and turned on the radio, not surprised to find it tuned to a country-western station. Leaning back, she watched the willow-choked Tongue River twist its way through the valley as she and Ty wound south toward Wyoming, not wanting to talk. She had a lot on her mind.

  “Did you find out who that was who followed you home last night?” Ty said reaching over to turn down the radio.

  She shook her head, the memory still making her uneasy. “Just a dark-colored pickup. The driver stopped at the ranch gate and sat there with his headlights out for a while. The next time I looked, he was gone. It was probably nothing.” She wished she could believe that.

  She saw Ty’s concerned expression. The last thing she wanted was Ty Coltrane keeping an eye on her. He’d done that her whole life.

  “Any chance it could have been Boone Rasmussen?” he asked.

  The question took her by surprise. “Why would he follow me?”

  Ty looked over at her. “Good question. Maybe because you were spying on him last night in the horse corral. I heard him open that gate. It was no accident that you were almost trampled by those bucking horses.”

  She stared at him in shock, remembering the sound of the gate latch being pulled back, the gate swinging open.

  “That’s crazy. Why would Boone want to hurt me? He doesn’t even know who I am.”

  Ty lifted a brow. “Maybe. Or maybe he thought you overhead something you shouldn’t have last night.”

  The thought chilled her. “I didn’t hear anything.”

  “But maybe Boone doesn’t know that. Just be careful, okay?” His tone was relaxed enough, but she could tell he was anything but. “Stay away from Boone Rasmussen.”

  She cut her eyes at Ty. Did he know the real reason she was in that corral last night? Was he just trying to keep her away from Boone? A thought struck her. Was it possible Ty was…jealous? She rejected that explanation instantly. No, Ty was just playing big brother like he always had.

  “You never told me why you were there last night,” she said. Did it have something to do with Boone and why Boone had stopped by Ty’s ranch this morning?

  From the barn, she hadn’t been able to hear what the two had been saying to each other, but she could darn well tell by reading their body language that they’d been at odds over something. Could it have been about her?

  “Well?” she demanded when Ty didn’t answer her.

  “Settle down, Slim. What do you want me to say? That I saw your truck was still in the lot and figured you were in some kind of trouble, as usual? That when I heard arguing, I just assumed you were at the center of it?”

  She angled a look at him. He didn’t take his eyes off the road making her suspect there was more to it.

  Didn’t he realize that trying to keep a secret from her was like throwing a rodeo bullfighter at a bull? Especially since whatever Ty was hiding had something to do with Boone Rasmussen.

  Boone wouldn’t have purposely opened the corral gate. But she had a flash of memory: the expression on Boone’s face when he’d reached through the chute toward Devil’s Tornado. She shivered, hugging herself. Ty turned on the heat in the pickup, but this chill went bone-deep.

  If Boone had opened that corral gate, then it had been to scare her away. But then she had to wonder what he’d been arguing about with the two other men that he’d feared she’d overheard.

  JUST NORTH OF Antelope Flats, Boone Rasmussen turned onto a dirt road that wound down to the Tongue River Reservoir. The beat-up, older model truck and camper were parked next to the water near the dam.

  As Boone got out, he saw no sign of life, but a pile of crushed beer cans glinted in the sun outside the camper. He swore under his breath as he pounded on the door and waited. Inside, he could hear rustling. “It’s me,” he said.

  The door opened. Lamar Nichols squinted down at him. He held a Colt .45 at his side. Lamar was almost as wide as he was tall, a burly cowboy with a smoker’s gravelly voice, dull brown eyes that could bore a hole through hardwood and hands large and strong enough to throttle a grown man.

  “What the hell time is it?” Lamar demanded with a scowl. He wore nothing but a pair of worn jeans, his furry barrel chest bare like his feet.

  “Almost two in the damned afternoon,” Boone snapped. An odor wafted out of the camper. The damp small space smelled of mold, stale beer and B.O. The last thing Boone wanted was to go inside the camper with Lamar. He motioned to the weathered wooden picnic table outside next to the camper.

  “Give me a minute,” Lamar said and stepped back inside, closing the door.

  Boone took a seat at the table facing the lake. A breeze rippled the silken green surface of the water. A few fishing boats bobbed along the edge of the red bluffs on the other side.

  “So what’s up?” Lamar said behind him.

  Boone turned at once, never comfortable with Lamar behind him. “Clayton T. Brooks’ body was found in a ravine.”

  “Where else would you expect a drunk has-been bull rider to end up?” Lamar said, making the picnic table groan under this weight as he sat down across from Boone. He’d put on a flannel shirt and wet down his dark hair—hair the same color as Boone’s. Other than hair color, Boone had little else in common with his older half brother.

  “That it?” Lamar asked rubbing a hand over his grizzly unshaven jaw, his eyes never leaving Boone’s face.

  “Monte’s taking Devil’s Tornado to the Bozeman rodeo.”

  Lamar nodded. “No big surprise there. He needs that bull. You’ve got him right where you want him.” His beady eyes narrowed to slits. “What about last night?”

  “I told you I’d take care of it.” He didn’t want Lamar going off half-cocked and ruining everything.

  “You talk to Coltrane? He tell you what the hell he was doing back by Devil’s Tornado’s trailer?” Lamar asked.

  “Said he was just curious about the bull. But he doesn’t know anything.” At least Boone hoped to hell that was true.

  “You sure about that?” Lamar challenged. “What was he doing nosing around, then?”

  Boone looked past him to the lake, his jaw tightening. “Coltrane isn’t the only one interested in the bull. Everyone’s curious. We just have to be careful.”

  Lamar cut his eyes at him. “There was someone else there last night. Someone over by the horse corrals.”

  Boone had hoped that Lamar hadn’t seen the cowgirl.

  “Coltrane tell you who the cowboy was with him?” Lamar asked.

  Lamar thought it was a cowboy in the corral? Obviously he hadn’t gotten a good look. Boone tried not to show his relief. Nor did he mention that asking Coltrane about the cowgirl would have been stupid. Lamar had been told too many times in his life he was stupid. He didn’t take it well anymore.

  Nor was Boone going to tell his half brother that he’d tracked down the drivers of both vehicles that had been in the lot last night after Coltrane left. One led him to the Lariat Motel in Antelope Flats. The other to Asa McCall’s Sundown Ranch.

  “You don’t think it was Monte, do you?” Lamar asked.

  Boone sighed. “Trust me, it wasn’t Monte.”

  “Yeah, well, he might think you’re the greatest thing since sliced bread, but I wouldn’t trust him,” Lamar said picking at his ear with a thick finger. Lamar didn’t trust anyone.

  Boone pushed himself to his feet. “Don’t worry about last night. You just take care of your end. We’re going to Bozeman. Three-day rodeo. I’m thinking we might throw in a couple more bulls. See how they do.”

  Lamar gave him a lopsided crooked-tooth grin.

  “I just want them to look promising,” Boone said. “Nothing like Devil’s Tornado. He’s our star. But last night in Sheridan… Let’s try not to let him be quite that wild, okay?”

  Lamar’s expression made it clear he thought Boone was making a mistake. “You’re the boss.”

  Boone studied his half brother, hoping he didn’t forget that. He didn’t need to worry about keeping Lamar in line. He had other worries. Ty Coltrane. And the cowgirl who had something that belonged to him. A syringe he had to get back.

  Chapter Seven

  Ty Coltrane looked over at Dusty as he slowed the pickup on the outskirts of Sheridan, Wyoming.

  He couldn’t help worrying about her, even though he figured she was probably right. Rasmussen hadn’t even seemed to notice her this morning at the ranch. He couldn’t have known she was in the horse corral last night. Maybe it had been an accident. And maybe it hadn’t been Rasmussen who’d followed her home last night.

  But warning Dusty about Boone Rasmussen was still a good idea. Ty’s instincts told him that Rasmussen was dangerous. And up to something. He just hoped to hell that it really didn’t have anything to do with Dusty.

  Ty parked in front of the Sheridan Boutique. Dusty shot a look at the front window and the mannequin outfitted in a skimpy cocktail dress. He could see her already digging in her heels.

  “Here’s the first rule,” he said quickly. “You do as I say, or I take you back to the ranch right now.”

  She shot him a look. He could see her struggling with the need to tell him what she thought while being forced to bite her tongue.

  He grinned at her. “Sit,” he ordered and got out to open her door.

  She scowled at him, but let him open her door. “Oh, I get it. Guys want to open your door just so they can look at your butt, huh?”

  He laughed as she swayed her hips as she walked away from him. “Now you’re starting to get the idea,” he called as he slammed the pickup door and turned to find her waiting for him outside the shop.

  Her head was tilted back, the western hat on her head no longer shading her lightly freckled face. In that instant, with the sun shining down on her, she looked like a goddess, capable of ruling the world. Certainly capable of stealing a cowboy’s heart.

  “Okay, let’s get this over with,” he said shaking off the image. “Go into that dressing room. I’ll have clothes brought to you.” She gave him a narrowed look. “This was your idea. You wanted my help,” he reminded her as they entered the shop.

  She clutched at his arm. “Promise you won’t make me look silly?” she whispered. Her eyes were big and blue, as clear and sparkling as a Montana summer day.