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“I run a ranch. I ride all the time.”
“Do you compete?”
“I didn’t last year. But I have in the past. I bust broncs and ride the occasional bull.”
“Really? Bull riding? That’s so dangerous.”
“Not if you know what you’re doing. I once saw Dusty McCray stay on a scary ass bull for six seconds. Course she gave herself a concussion afterward.”
“Yes, I know. I heard about her and that bull of hers, El Diablo. They’re still offering that half-mil purse, aren’t they?”
“Every January at the stock show in Denver, and every summer at the rodeo here in town.” He chuckled. “You’re not thinking about taking up bull ridin’, are you?”
“Heavens, no. I’ll stick to horseback, thank you. I do admire a woman with those kinds of balls though, if you’ll pardon the expression.”
“Dusty McCray has balls and then some. That little girl’s been through more than most.”
“Yeah, Catie told me about her cancer, and about how she probably won’t have any more children. I feel bad for her.”
“It’s a shame, no doubt. But she has quite a brood of nieces and nephews to dote on now, including Catie’s Violet.”
“She has a brother, doesn’t she?”
“Yeah. Sam. He hasn’t been around in a while. He lives up in Montana. They have a small ranch up there. I think he’s planning to come for the rodeo in a few months though. He’s a bronc buster like me.”
“Hmm. Can you beat him?”
Harper let out a laugh. “He’s damn good. But so am I.”
Amber smiled, parting her cherry lips to reveal perfect white teeth. The skin around those gorgeous golden eyes crinkled. Good God, the woman is hot.
“I wouldn’t mind learning bronc busting myself,” she said, “though I think I’ll stick to barrel racing for now. Maybe I’ll ask Dusty McCray to teach me.”
“She hasn’t raced in years. Not since she had Sean.”
“Yeah, true. I’m sure there’s someone else around who can give me some pointers. Catie mentioned this guy who used to work for Chad a while back. He’s back in town. His name’s Blake something or other, and she says he knows the sport pretty well. He worked with his sister who’s a champ.”
Harper pursed his lips. He knew exactly who Amber was talking about. “Blake Buchanan, yeah.” Blake Buchanan was also a champion coward and loser. He’d left town three years ago after impregnating the mayor’s daughter. She’d had a miscarriage, but still. Course the man did know barrel racing.
“I was thinking I might check with him. I’ve heard he’s a great coach.”
Sweat beaded above Harper’s lip. Why would he care if Amber worked with some loser who seduced an innocent young woman? Amber hardly looked innocent anyway. No one that hot could be innocent.
None of his business anyway.
Thank God. They arrived at Catie’s, and the conversation ended.
The place was already crowded as a stampede. Surely no one would have noticed if he hadn’t shown up.
Nope. Catie would notice. He sucked in a breath, and with Amber clinging to his arm, walked inside.
“Amber!” Catie waded through the throng of people dragging a tall black-haired cowboy with her. “I’m so glad you’re here. This is the man I’ve been telling you about. Blake Buchanan. This is Amber Cross, and you remember my brother, Harper.”
Amber’s golden eyes blazed as Blake approached.
On instinct, Harper wrapped his arm around Amber’s waist and pulled her into his side. Warmth coursed through him.
“Hello there, darlin’,” Blake said. “I hear you want to learn to race.”
