Madison scrambled onto Kendra’s lap. “Is he done now?” she asked, sounding as breathless as Kendra felt.
Kendra hugged her daughter tightly. “Yes,” she said. “It’s over.”
“Good,” Madison said. “That boy-cow looks mean.”
Kendra chuckled and, to her relief, some of the tension drained away, softening her shoulders and unclenching her stomach. “I think that boy-cow is mean,” she agreed.
They watched as Hutch climbed deftly over a fence and stood, watching as the next bull and rider came hurtling out of a chute.
For Kendra, the rest of the event passed in a blur of cowboys and bulls and disconnected words booming over the loudspeakers, all of that underpinned by enthusiastic applause. She sat holding Madison a little too tightly, trying not to imagine how Hutch’s ride—or that of some other cowboy—could have turned out.
The effort was futile, and by the time Hutch and the other winners were announced and the closing ceremony began—the announcer thanked everybody for coming and reminded them to stick around, check out the goods on offer in the exhibition hall, and enjoy the carnival and, later on, the fireworks—Kendra was weak in the knees.
She and Madison met Hutch, as agreed, outside the arena gate.
Seeing him again, up close, all in one piece, Kendra felt a humiliating urge to cry and fling herself into his arms. Fortunately, she didn’t give in to that clingy, codependent compulsion.
“Congratulations,” she said mildly, stiffening her spine and lifting her chin.
But Madison was much more forthright. She marched over to Hutch, set her little hands on her hips and tipped her head back to look up at him. Her hat tumbled down her back, dangling by the string Kendra meant to snip off with scissors at the first opportunity. “I don’t like it when you ride boy-cows,” she informed him. “You could get hurt!”
Hutch smiled, crouched down to look into Madison’s pleasantly grungy face and gently tugged at one of her curls. “I’m just fine, shortstop,” he said quietly. He might have been talking to an adult, from his tone, rather than a child. He spoke firmly to Madison, but addressed her as an equal. “See?”
Madison softened, as he’d intended. “Do you ride boy-cows a lot?” she wanted to know.
“No,” he replied. “Just once a year when the rodeo rolls around.”
Madison mulled that over. Being so young, she probably didn’t have any real conception of such an extended length of time. A year, most likely, sounded a lot like forever.
Kendra, on the other hand, knew those twelve months would pass quickly. Would she and Madison be right here when it was rodeo time again, watching this man deliberately take his life in his hands? Or would Hutch have grown tired of them by then, and moved on to some other woman?
She didn’t trust herself to say a word in that moment; just stood there, frustrated and scared and wanting Hutch Carmody more than she ever had before.
What was wrong with her?
Why couldn’t she just stay away from this man, find somebody else—an insurance agent, say, or a schoolteacher, or an electrician, if she had to walk on the wild side?
Anybody but a cowboy.
Hutch rose easily from his haunches, bent and hoisted Madison into his arms.
She yawned and rested her head against his shoulder, her pink cowgirl hat bobbing between her shoulder blades.
Kendra slipped the hat off over Madison’s head and carried it for her.
“I think a certain little cowgirl could use some peace and quiet,” Hutch said, looking at Kendra over Madison’s bright tousle of hair. “What if we head out to my place for a while?” Seeing the protest brewing in Kendra’s eyes, he immediately added, “Opal’s there and the fireworks won’t start for hours.”
Kendra sighed, then gave in with a nod.
Madison clearly needed a break from all the hubbub and excitement, and so did she.
They left the fairgrounds, Madison asleep on Hutch’s shoulder and barely waking up when he unlocked the truck and set her gently in her safety seat.
“Did I miss the fireworks?” the child asked drowsily.
“Nope,” Hutch said, buckling her in. “We’re going out to the ranch to spend some time with Opal and Ruffles, but we’ll be back in plenty of time to watch the sky light up. And look—here’s your teddy bear, sitting right here waiting for you.”
Madison nodded and smiled and drifted off, her head resting against the bear’s plush pink shoulder.
Kendra, evidently relegated to sidekick status and feeling like a third wheel, went around the truck, opened the passenger door and climbed inside quickly. She didn’t