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It had taken all his concentration not to be distracted by her presence. It was his single-minded attentiveness that gave him his reputation as the best bronc buster in the West, and he wasn’t about to lose it.

And now she rested in his arms, holding his shirtfront as if it was a lifeline, and lifted her gaze to him. His world tipped at the way her cobalt-blue eyes caught his in a pleading look. How was he supposed to keep his mind off her in this situation?

Cowboys turned the herd of wild horses back to the corral amid more dust and more shouting.

“You’re safe,” he murmured again, as fierce protectiveness filled his insides. He wanted to promise both himself and her that he’d make sure she was always safe.

Then his world righted and reason returned. He could never make such a promise. In fact, he carried more risk than any woman deserved, and certainly more than he meant to give one. He warned himself to stay away from her before he brought danger into her life.

A mahogany-haired woman rushed toward them—the woman he’d seen earlier with his golden beauty. And then Eddie Gardiner, the ranch owner who had hired him, raced up on his horse. Already the dust had begun to settle.

“Are you hurt?” Eddie asked.

“No. I’m fine.” The woman had a gentle, soft voice with a sweet English accent. A voice full of music and peace, despite the danger she’d just been in. Was her life really as peaceful and perfect as her voice caused Brand to think? From what he’d seen of her, he knew her to be a high-class lady. Likely she had never had reason in her privileged life to deal with the harsh realities of a place like his.

Realizing he still held her tight, Brand forced his arms to unfold, and lowered her to the ground, where her friend took her hand and pulled her close.

“That was exciting,” the other woman said.

The golden beauty shivered. “A little too dangerous for my liking.”

If she thought a herd of wild horses was dangerous, he could not imagine what she’d think if she knew the truth about him.

Eddie glanced about. “Where’s Grady? Wasn’t he with you?”

The woman gasped. “He was right here.” She and her friend spun around, looking for him.

They must mean the boy who had wisely taken himself out of harm’s way. Brand’s smile formed as he looked toward where the boy had hidden.

“I’m here, Papa.” The little fella crawled from under the fence and dusted himself off.

Brand would have guessed the blond-haired, blue-eyed child to be about five or six.

Grady swiped at his runny nose and looked up at Brand. “I wasn’t scared.”

Brand laughed at his bravado. “I was.”

Grady hung his head. “Maybe I was a little.”

“It’s a good thing to be scared sometimes.” A message he wished he could send to the woman he’d rescued and who now looked up at him with big trusting eyes.

He touched the brim of his hat and reined around. Already others had the horses contained and were moving them back into the corral. He should have checked the enclosure better. His oversight had put people at risk.

Eddie’s wife raced down the hill, her skirts held in one hand. He’d seen she was in the family way, and hoped she wouldn’t fall.

As soon as she was close enough, she caught Grady and sank to the ground, cradling the boy in her lap. “Thank God you’re safe.” She glanced up at Brand. “I saw the whole thing. You saved Sybil’s life. You’re very brave.”

Brave! This woman was called Sybil. As if that could cancel out danger. It couldn’t.

Brand wanted to ride away, avoid all this fuss, but he was surrounded by people.

He felt Sybil’s gaze on him. Felt its warmth and watchfulness. He tried to avoid looking at her, knowing her blue eyes did something funny to his resolve. Made him weak and vulnerable.

“I don’t think you have met Brand.” Eddie pulled the woman close. “This is my wife, Linette, and my son, Grady.” He turned to the other two ladies. “Mercy Newell.” The darker of the pair. “And Sybil Bannerman, our guests from England. Ladies, this is Brand, best bronc buster in these parts.”

“Pleased to meet you.” Brand touched the brim of his hat. His dusty clothes and hat had seen better days. Normally he didn’t care, but Miss Sybil was so neat and proper, he felt grubby.

“Mr. Brand, you are indeed a hero.”

Her gentle words drew his gaze and he smiled despite himself. “No hero, ma’am. Just in the right place at the right time and glad I could be.” He doffed his hat and edged away.

“Wait,” Linette called. “You must let me do something to show my gratitude. Please join us for supper.”

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