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“Look, you don’t need to feel any obligation. What happened couldn’t be helped. It wasn’t your fault. You know that.”
“Whatever.” She shrugged her shoulders and turned back to the bull. “Besides, if I ride old Diablo here, I can make five hundred thousand dollars in eight seconds. That’s”—she did some rapid calculations in her head—“two hundred and twenty-five million dollars an hour. Can you beat that?” She grinned, raising her eyebrows.
“Your math wizardry is annoying, Dust. Always has been. And yeah, I might be able to come away from this rodeo with half a mill, though I won’t do it in eight seconds. Besides, Diablo’s owner will never let a woman ride him.”
“Who’s his owner? I haven’t had a chance to look through the program yet.”
“Zach McCray.”
“No fooling?” Dusty smiled as she remembered the lanky teenager with the odd-colored eyes. Yes, he had tormented her, but he had been kind that last day when the O’Donovans left for Montana. At thirteen, Zach had no doubt understood the magnitude of Mollie’s illness much better than Dusty. “I figured the McCrays would be here. Think they’ll remember us?”
“Sure. Chad and I are blood brothers.” Sam held up his palm. “Seriously, though, they may not. Ranch hands come and go all the time around a place as big as McCray Landing.”
“It’s Sam O’Donovan!”
Dusty turned toward the deep, resonating voice. A tall broad man with a tousled shock of brown hair ambled toward them.
“Chad? I’ll be damned. It is you.” Sam held out his hand. “We were just talking about you, wondering if you’d remember us.”
“A man doesn’t forget his first and only blood brother.” Chad slapped Sam on the back. “And is this the little twerp?”
“Yeah, it’s me, Chad.” Dusty held out her hand.
Chad grabbed it and pulled her toward him in a big bear hug. “You sure turned out to be a pretty thing. “ He turned back to Sam. “I bet you got your work cut out for you, keeping the flies out of the honey.”
“Yeah, so don’t get any ideas,” Sam said.
Chad held up his hands in mock surrender. “Wouldn’t dream of it, bro. So how are you all? I’d heard you might be back in town. I was sorry to hear about your pa.”
“I didn’t know the news made it down here,” Sam said.
“Yeah, there was a write up in the Bakersville Gazette. The old lady who runs it always kept a list of the hands hired at the nearby ranches. Once she discovered the Internet five years ago, there was no stopping her.” Chad grinned. “She found every one of them. Needs a new hobby, I guess. So what are you all up to?”
“Here for the rodeo. Dusty and I are competing.”
“No kidding?”
“Yep. I’m bronc busting, and Dusty’s a barrel racer. And…” Sam chuckled softly.
“And what?”
“She thinks she’s gonna take Diablo here for a ride.”
Chad’s eyes widened as he stared at Dusty. Warmth crept up her neck. Clearly her five-feet-five-inch frame didn’t inspire his confidence.
“You ride bulls?”
Her facial muscles tightened. “You bet I do.”
Chad let out a breathy chortle. “Good joke.”
“No joke, Chad,” Sam said. “She’s pretty good, actually. But she’s never ridden a bull as big as Diablo. She’s tamed some pretty nasty studs in Montana, though never during competition.”
“I hate to tell you this, Gold Dust, but this rodeo doesn’t allow female bull riding.”
“I’ll just have to get them to change their minds then,” Dusty said.
“Good luck with that,” Chad said. “In fact, can I go with you? I think the whole affair might be funny.”
