Shotgun Surrender. B.J. Daniels
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But even with four older brothers, she knew squat about men. Well, one man in particular, Boone Rasmussen. And after tonight, she felt even more confused. She wasn’t even sure that once she got his attention, talked to him, that she would even like him. Worse, she couldn’t get that one instant, when he’d reached through the fence, out of her mind. What had fallen on the ground?
“Dusty?” Letty was a few yards ahead, looking back at her.
Dusty hadn’t realized that she’d stopped walking.
But then again, she was a McCall. She’d been raised to go after what she wanted. And anyway, she couldn’t wait around for Boone to make the first move. Heck, she could be ninety before that happened. She was also curious about what Boone had dropped. Stubborn determination and unbridled curiosity, a deadly combination.
“Oh, shoot, I forgot something,” Dusty said, already walking backward toward the arena. “I’ll talk to you later, okay?”
Letty started to argue with her, but then just nodded with a look that said she knew only too well what Dusty was up to.
She thought again about the look she’d seen on Boone’s face earlier and felt a shiver as she wandered back through the dark arena.
The outdoor arena looked alien with all the lights off, no crowds cheering from the empty stands, no bulls banging around in the chutes or cowboys hanging on the fences. Even the concession stands were locked up.
As Dusty headed toward the chutes, stars glittered in the dark sky overhead. The scent of dust, manure and fried grease still hung in the air. She felt a low hum in her body that seemed to grow stronger as she neared the chutes, as if the night were filled with electricity.
The same excited feeling she’d had the first time she’d seen Boone Rasmussen a few weeks before. He’d been sitting on a fence by the bull chutes, his cowboy hat pulled low over his dark eyes. He’d taken her breath away and set something off inside her. Since then, Dusty hadn’t been able to think straight.
Like now. If she had a lick of sense, she’d turn around and hightail it out of here. She heard the scuffle of feet in the dirt behind the chutes, a restless whisper of movement and saw a dozen large shapes milling inside a corral. The bucking horses.
The roughstock contractor hadn’t finished loading up. That meant Boone could still be here since he had been working with Monte Edgewood, who provided the stock for the rodeo. Maybe Boone had stayed behind to help load the horses.
She climbed over the gate into the chutes. It was dark, but the stars and distant lights of the city cast a faint glow over the rodeo grounds. She moved along the chutes, stopping when she heard voices.
She looked past the empty corral and the one with the bucking horses and saw what appeared to be several cowboys. All she could really see were their hats etched against the darkness. Boone? She couldn’t be sure unless she got a little closer.
Climbing over the fence, she dropped into an empty corral next to the one with the bucking horses. On the cool night breeze came the low murmur of voices. She felt her stomach roil as she tried to think of what she would say to Boone if that was him back there.
Unfortunately, she found herself tongue-tied whenever she saw him. She’d never had trouble speaking her mind. Quite the opposite. What the devil was wrong with her?
She knew she couldn’t keep trying to get his attention the way she would have when she was ten. She had a flash of memory of her bucking horse ride earlier and Boone completely missing it. She still hurt from the landing. And the humiliation of her desperation.
Through the milling horses, she caught sight of the dark silhouette of three cowboy hats on the far side of the corrals. She couldn’t see enough of the men to tell if one of them was Boone. It was too dark, and the horses blocked all but the men’s heads and shoulders.
She stepped on one rung of the fence and tried to peer over the horses, surprised to hear the men’s voices rise in anger. She couldn’t catch the words, but the tone made it clear they were in a dispute over something.
She recognized Boone’s voice and could almost feel the anger in it. Suddenly, it stopped. Eerie silence dropped over the arena.
Hurriedly she dropped back down into the corral, hoping he hadn’t seen her, but knowing he must have. She felt her face flush with embarrassment. What if he thought she was spying on him? Or even worse, stalking him?
BOONE CAUGHT MOVEMENT beyond the horses in the corral and held up his hand to silence the other two.
A light shone near the rodeo grounds exit, but the arena and corrals lay in darkness. He stared past the horses, wondering if his eyes had been playing tricks on him. Through a break in the horses, he saw a figure crouch down.
“Go on, get out of here,” he whispered.
Lamar nodded and headed for the semitruck and trailer with Devil’s Tornado inside.
Boone glanced at Waylon Dobbs. The rodeo veterinarian looked scared and ready to run, but he hadn’t moved.
“Who is it?” Waylon whispered.
Boone motioned with an impatient shake of his head that he didn’t know and for Waylon to leave. “I’ll take care of it. Go. We’re finished here anyway.”
Slipping through the fence into the corral with the bucking horses, Boone used the horses to conceal himself as he worked his way to the far gate—the gate that would send the massive horses back into the corral where he’d just seen someone spying on them.
Had the person heard what they’d been saying? He couldn’t take the chance. Everyone knew accidents happened all the time when nosy people got caught where they didn’t belong.
The horses began to move restlessly around the corral, nervous with him among them. His jaw tightened as he thought about who was just beyond the horses. He couldn’t see anyone, but he knew the person was still there.
Carefully, he unlocked the gate and stepped back in the shadows out of the way of the horses. Whoever had been spying on him was in for a surprise.
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