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Lexie stood by Whirlwind’s pen as the two men walked away. They’d departed politely enough, muttering excuses as they left, but the awareness that she’d made an emotional fool of herself stung like lye in a cut. Seeing Shane—Shane, who’d protected her through the night and set her on fire with his kiss—standing there, examining her bull with a man she hated, had pushed her past her limits. She’d grabbed the Hot-Shot and come charging in like a madwoman.
At least she hadn’t zapped anybody. That would’ve meant real trouble. But she was still quivering with anger—mostly at herself. Once more, she’d played into Shane’s hands. And once more, he’d betrayed her trust.
Damn!
She glanced at her watch. It was coming up on noon. Aaron had wandered off to get his own lunch and would probably end up playing blackjack at the casino on the south end of the fairgrounds. As long as he kept his cell phone on, and as long as he was here when she needed to load, unload, and drive, Lexie didn’t mind. At least he wasn’t trying to be her babysitter.
She could use some lunch herself. Breakfast had been light and early. But now her appetite had fled. She felt vaguely sick. If only she hadn’t made such a spectacle of herself in front of Shane, Brock, and anyone else who happened to be watching.
Whirlwind was still out of sorts, snorting and slamming himself against the side of his pen, as if trying to get his neighbor’s attention. The big yellow bull kept on eating, paying him no mind. Lexie reached between the rails and scratched the special spot behind Whirlwind’s ear. “It’s all right, big guy,” she murmured. “Let him ignore you. Soon you’ll get the chance to show the world what you’re made of.”
She could only hope it was true. Whirlwind was a young bull, unaccustomed to being without his companions. In an unfamiliar situation, he could become surly or distracted. He might even refuse to buck. It had never happened before, but today nothing would surprise her.
Maybe a walk would ease her dark mood. She’d been with Whirlwind most of the morning, fussing and worrying over him. It might be a good thing if she left him for a while. Maybe he’d even calm down. The complex was secure. Nothing was going to happen here.
Lexie forced herself to walk away from the pen. Tess was right, she reminded herself. Whirlwind wasn’t her pet. He was property, bred to make money for the ranch. But she had raised him from babyhood; and while she had breath in her body, no one was going to sell him, especially to Brock Tolman.
She walked through the bucking chute area and out to the arena. Tingley Coliseum was a multipurpose indoor structure with a seating capacity of 11,000. At this hour it was a vast, empty cavern, dimly lit, with a few workers moving among the rows of seats. The shark cage, a penlike structure, its top flat and its base planted in the earth, had been set up in the middle of the arena. From here, the press, the video crews, and a few elite guests could get a close-up view of the dangerous sport. The top of the shark cage also served as a stage and a safety island. Jets on its four corners spouted white steam to signal a successful ride.
Sponsor logos were everywhere—everything from western and outdoor gear to trucks to sports drinks. They blazed on the barriers that ringed the arena. There were logos on the gates and chute rails, on the shark cage, on walls, and even on people. Only the bulls were free of signage.
It was all about money. Lots of money.
Lexie sank into an aisle seat, letting the stillness of the place surround her—a place that, hours from now, would be exploding with noise. She closed her eyes and took deep breaths, willing her nerves to stop jangling. She’d have a long wait before the ride that would test Whirlwind’s mettle and, possibly, determine the future of the ranch.
With Shane mounting her bull, anything could happen.
“Lexie? Is that you?” The deep baritone voice, familiar in a pleasant way, startled her. She turned in her seat to see a muscular man, dressed in the loose-fitting athletic gear of a bullfighter, striding down the aisle toward her.
“Casey!” Jumping to her feet, she ran to meet him, hesitated an instant, then flung herself into his open arms for a bear hug. “How did you find me?” she asked.
He let her go. “I saw your bull. Figured someone in your family must’ve brought him. I was hoping it might be you. When I asked around, somebody told me you’d gone in here.”
His broad, handsome face wore a welcoming grin. Casey Bose-man, Jack’s best friend and Val’s high school beau, was almost family. If Val had possessed the good sense to marry him instead of running off to Hollywood, he would be family. But it was too late to change the past.
“What are you doing in here by yourself?” he asked.
“Decompressing. It’s a madhouse out there.”
“It’ll get worse. Be prepared. Have you had lunch?”
She shook her head.
“I know where to find some great barbecue. Come on, I’ll treat you. We’ve got some catching up to do.”
She let him usher her back into the blinding daylight. Casey had been crushed when Val left without warning. Later on, he’d married a woman he’d met at a party, but the marriage had lasted less than a year—in part, Lexie suspected, because he’d never gotten over his lost love.
On the night of Jack’s death, Casey had been with him in the arena. He’d flung himself into the path of the bull, but hadn’t been able to stop the beast from crushing his best friend. Every time he stepped onto the dirt, Lexie knew that the tragedy must be in the back of his mind. And every time he saved a
rider from danger, he undoubtedly wished it could have been Jack.
The last time Lexie had seen him was at Jack’s funeral, where he’d helped carry the casket. Casey had the kindest heart of anyone she knew—and it had been shattered twice, by members of her own family.
“I was sorry to hear about your dad, Lexie,” he said as they left the arena complex and headed down the midway. “Bert was a good man. I’d have come for the funeral, but I was working and couldn’t get away.”
“Val didn’t come.” Lexie knew what he was really asking. “She didn’t even send flowers.”
“You never found out what happened between them?”
