Page 157 of Ironwood Ranch Cowboys

The picture’s probably excellent. Everything Duke does photographs well, which I find personally offensive.

As evening settles, the rodeo grounds shine. Strings of temporary lights flicker on around the vendor tents.

The music shifts louder, fuller, and the open patch of packed dirt near the beer tent becomes an unofficial dance floor because Colter Creek apparently requires only three chords and mild dehydration to start a party.

Duke gets Annie to dance first.

That surprises no one.

He takes her hand with a dramatic bow, and she rolls her eyes hard enough to injure herself, but she lets him pull her in. He spins her once, then twice, and she laughs so openly I can’t help but smile.

She looks different when she forgets to defend herself.

Freer.

Silas comes to stand beside me, arms crossed, watching them. “I’m still worried about her. About those photos.”

I nod. “Me too.”

“The photos need work. I’ll need the originals. Metadata, sequence analysis, background comparison against prior images. If he appears across multiple events, we can build a movement pattern.”

“I know. I’m not ignoring it.”

He nods once, understanding me.

Because I’m not ignoring it. I can feel the problem sitting at the back of my mind, already organizing itself into tasks.

Image extraction. Timeline. Access point review. Event vendor credentials. Cross-check with Jake’s approvals. Tessa’s circle. Vivian’s pressure.

Every open thread waiting to be pulled until something tears.

But Annie is laughing. Right now, that matters too.

Duke spins her out and, because he’s an ass, sends her directly toward me. I catch her by the waist before she collides with my chest.

Her hands land against me. Her eyes lift. The music keeps going.

Duke’s voice carries over the noise. “Your turn, accountant.”

“No,” I say.

Annie’s smile turns dangerous. “No?”

“I don’t dance.”

“Everybody dances.”

“Incorrect.”

She tilts her head. “Are you bad at it?”

“No.”

“Then prove it.”

Silas makes a low sound beside me that might be amusement.

Betrayal.