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“You’ve missed the first two rides,” Brock said. “The first out was a local high school girl. She did the course in a little over seventeen seconds.”
“That’s not too bad,” Tess said.
“No, the second rider knocked over a barrel—that’s a five-second penalty—so the first girl’s in the lead, but that won’t last. Look down there behind the gate. That’s Miss Cheyenne McKenna waiting for the clock. And she’s got a great horse.”
Looking over the rail, Tess caught sight of a slim girl with black hair streaming below her straw hat. She was mounted on a small bay mare with sturdy quarter horse lines. An instant later, she was out of the gate like a shot, headed around the first barrel. The mare made up for its size in speed and sure-footedness. They rounded the next two barrels, cutting close, and rocketed back through the gate. The crowd cheered. The clock, which measured to a thousandth of a second, had stopped at 14.899.
“Now that’s damn fast riding,” Tess muttered.
“Nobody’s going to beat that time,” Brock agreed. And he was right. None of the next six women who raced came close to Cheyenne McKenna’s time. Of course, the competition wasn’t over. The women would race multiple times. The times for each race would be added up for a final score. But Tess had little doubt who the event winner would be.
There was a break in the action while the grounds people carted away the barrels and groomed the surface of the arena for the next event. Brock turned toward Tess and cleared his throat. Tess braced herself for whatever was coming next.
“I hope you won’t mind my asking you a few questions,” he said. “I’m trying to get to the bottom of a mystery.”
“That sounds interesting, but I don’t know how I can help.”
“You might be the only one who can. In Cave Creek, the night my bull was killed, you were asleep in your truck, in the parking lot, right?”
“Of course. You already know that.”
“And did you see or hear anything—anybody coming into the lot or the pens?”
She shook her head. “I was exhausted. I slept through the night. But you already know that, too. I’m sorry I can’t be more help. It was a terrible thing for somebody to do.”
“But somebody did—somebody who hated me enough to kill a valued animal. I’ve made my share of enemies, but how many of them would know where I was going to be with my bulls? How many would know how to inject a bull with euthanasia drugs, and how many would have access to the pens without alerting security?”
In spite of the warm sun, Tess felt an icy chill. “What are you asking me, Brock? And why? Just come out and say it.”
“I’ve tried to be a friend to you, Tess. But I know you have reason to resent me. Is your family still holding a grudge over that land I bought out from under your father? Do you still believe I’m trying to get my hands on your ranch?”
“You think it wasme?” She was on her feet, outrage surging through her body. “Listen, Brock Tolman. If I were capable of killing, it wouldn’t be a beautiful, innocent animal. It would beyou!”
She turned to stalk away, but his hand caught her wrist in a firm grip. “Damn it, Tess, sit down. I had to ask. And you need to know where I’m coming from. If you go, I won’t get a chance to tell you.” He tugged at her hand. “Come on. If you go storming off, people will think we’ve had a lover’s quarrel.”
Still fuming, Tess sank back onto the bench. She’d enjoyed their brief camaraderie as they watched the barrel racing, but that was over, maybe for good. “I can’t believe you’d suspect me of doing such an awful thing,” she muttered.
“I don’t know who to suspect anymore,” he said. “It isn’t just the bull—I’ve been threatened in the mail and in other ways. In Cave Creek, when the boys were shoveling out the trailer, they found a live rattlesnake. And just the other day, I lost two steers to barbed wire where a fence had been pulled down. No clue who’s responsible.”
“Well, it certainly wasn’t me. If I were out to get you, you’d know it up front.”
His mouth tightened in a grim smile. “I can imagine. You’d be a charging tigress and I wouldn’t stand a chance. Sorry, but you can understand why I’m on edge. Can you think of anyone who might be out to damage me?”
“Aside from the usual suspects—like me?” She paraphrased the old movie line. “No. But then, I don’t know many of your high-rolling associates. Besides, the snake and the steers could’ve been just plain bad luck. Call it karma.”
“Karma? I’ve never believed in that mumbo jumbo,” he said, “especially not this time. Will you at least let me know if you see or hear anything suspicious?”
“Maybe. Unless I’m better off keeping it to myself.”
He made a grumbling sound and turned his attention back to the arena.
They made it through several more events, exchanging no more than a few comments. Tess enjoyed watching the two young McKenna men win their events—Reese in bareback and Randall in saddle bronc. But it was as if a cloud had drifted over the sun. She could feel the tension simmering in the silence between her and Brock. She had been totally honest with him. But his behavior told her that he didn’t trust her any more than she trusted him.
She was relieved when the time came to ready her bulls for the final event of the day. Excusing herself with a murmur, she left Brock and made her way back to the pens, where Ruben waited with the bulls.
He frowned as she joined him. “I told you to stay and have a good time.”
“And I said I’d be back here to help. Come on, let’s do this.”
