“Yeah, I do. But I was a grown man when he died. It’s different.”
“I suppose so. It was different when my papa died.”
“Hey”—he cupped her cheek in his hand—“do you want to take a break? I haven’t had breakfast yet. I’m famished, and I could use some caffeine.”
“But Diablo—”
“I’ll bring you back here after we eat,” he said.
“And you’ll try not to interfere?”
He grinned broadly. “Can’t make that promise, darlin’.”
Dusty shrugged her shoulders. A girl had to eat. “Fine. I’m hungry anyway.”
* * *
Again, Zach relished watching Dusty eat. He wondered for a moment how she could stay so fit when she ate like a horse, but then realized she stayed lean the same way he did. Ranch work and rodeos. When his stomach was full and two cups of coffee had given him the burst he needed, he brought Dusty back to Diablo’s pen.
“All right,” she said, looking at him fiercely. “I’m going to try again now. No interfering.”
“You going to sing that pretty song again?”
“Eventually. You don’t stop doing what works. How about you stand over there?” She pointed to a couple bales of hay next to one of the practice rings.
“Sorry, darlin.’ I stay here. That was the deal.”
“Zach, please?”
“Look”—he cupped her face in both hands—“I need to be serious for a minute. I know you think you can handle this bull, but up until now, I’m the only one who he’s even halfway listened to. I need to be here. I can’t risk you getting hurt.”
“I never knew you cared.” She smiled.
Was she flirting? He looked into her big baby browns. No, definitely not flirting. Facetiousness, that’s what it was. The fact was he did care. He cared about anyone who might get injured by his livestock. “Of course I care. Diablo’s my responsibility, and so is anyone who comes in contact with him.”
“Then why did you offer the purse to anyone who could ride him? Surely you know it’s possible that someone could get hurt.”
“That’s what disclaimers are for, darlin’.”
“Do you want me to sign your disclaimer? I’d be happy to, because I can tell you right now that this bull is not going to hurt me.”
He shook his head. She was something else. Her steadfast obstinacy only made her more appealing. She continued to stare at him indignantly. Her long braid had fallen over one shoulder, curving over the knoll of her chest. He imagined her hair unbraided, a mass of golden curls flowing around her naked breasts, hardened ruby nipples peeking through.
God, I have to get a grip. I don’t need a boner right now.
“I don’t want you to sign anything. I won’t let him hurt you.”
Dusty nodded and turned to Diablo.
As she walked around the pen and spoke softly, a shrill noise cut into his thoughts.
“Zach! There you are!”
Dusty turned toward the commotion, her eyebrows raised. “Who’s that?”
He didn’t have to turn around. He recognized the voice.
Angelina. His ex-fiancée.