“Damn it, Zach!” Dusty sat up and brushed the dirt from her jeans. “I was making great progress. He wasn’t going to hurt me. He’s penned up!”
“I couldn’t take the chance.” Zach rubbed her cheek. “Just a little dust,” he said, catching a tear with his finger. He held it out to show her and then touched it to his lips. “That song was the prettiest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“For all the good you let it do.” She sniffed and willed the threatening tears not to fall.
“I’ve never heard it before.”
“Please. Of course you have. You’re Irish, aren’t you?”
“McCray is a Scottish name, and my ma’s of English descent.”
“Oh. Well, my mama used to sing it to me.” Dusty si
ghed. “A long, long time ago…”
“And now you sing it to bulls.” He smiled, his eyes kind as he touched her cheek again.
She tried to ignore the tingle he aroused in her. “Who else is there to sing it to? Besides, it works. You saw Diablo respond. If you hadn’t interfered—”
“I was thinking of the words of the song. It says you’d give the world if she could sing it to you again. That’s why it made you cry, isn’t it?”
“I’m not crying.”
But a lone tear chose that exact moment to fall. Zach smiled as he caught it again. “Of course not.”
“Look, we’re wasting time here. I’ve got to start over with Diablo now.” Dusty brushed off her legs again and began to rise.
Zach got to his feet first and held out his hand. Although warmth flooded her cheeks, she took it. He pulled her to him and kissed her gently on the cheek.
“I was always so sorry about what happened to your mama. How she got sick and all.”
“It’s all right. I don’t remember much. I was young.”
“You remember more than you think you do. You remember that song.”
Dusty said nothing as Zach lifted her chin so she was looking straight into his eyes. “You were such a cute little tomboy back then. I knew you didn’t understand what was happening to your mama. I always wished I could make it better for you.”
Dusty widened her eyes. “Did you? You always picked on me.”
“That was just me being an idiot kid,” Zach said. “When I found out your mama was terminal and they couldn’t help her anymore, I wished I had the power of God to erase that sadness in your big brown eyes.” He skimmed his callused thumb over her lips.
Words, mere words, but they touched her even more than the spark of his fingers on her mouth. “That’s kind of you. I had no idea.”
“I know you didn’t.”
“Well…” Dusty struggled to regain her composure. “We survived.”
“But you still miss her.”
“I probably always will. Don’t you miss your father?”
“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—”