truthfully. “I’m not on birth control.” She patted him on the arm. “But don’t you fret. If I am pregnant, I won’t expect you to marry me. I’m a strong woman who can take care of Little Sawyer all by myself.” Sawyer looked like he was about to pass out while Maisy was thoroughly enjoying herself. “Or should we call him Junior? Of course, it could be a girl. I’ve always loved the name June for a girl. We could call her June Bug. June Bug Dawson. Are you okay, Sawyer? You don’t look so good.”
He grabbed onto the fence. “I think I need to sit down.”
Figuring he’d had about enough, Maisy started to tell him the truth when a man spoke behind her.
“Excuse me. Are you Maisy Sweeney?”
She turned and almost passed out on the spot when she saw one of her all-time favorite rodeo stars standing there.
Cord Evans had been her hero since she was old enough to sit in a saddle. He was a six-time world all-around champion rodeo cowboy who had ridden broncs and bulls with a gracefulness that was still the envy of every rodeo cowboy . . . and cowgirl. He had been retired for years and now owned a successful boot company. Maisy would’ve loved to have a pair of his handmade boots, but she couldn’t afford them. And Cord knew her name. He knew her name. She really wanted to giggle like some teenage groupie and beg for an autograph, but instead she kept it together.
“Y-Yes, sir.”
A smile lit his handsome face as he held out a hand. “Cord Evans.” He glanced at the beautiful blond on his arm and his eyes lit up with love. “And this is my wife, Christie.”
Maisy shook his hand. She was touching Cord Evans. The Cord Evans. She was never washing her hand again. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.” She shook the woman’s hand. “And you, Mrs. Evans.”
“Please, call me Christie,” the woman said graciously. “My husband was quite impressed after seeing you ride in Waco.”
“Waco?” Maisy glanced at Cord as the truth hit. “So you were the sponsor who got me the chance to ride today?”
Cord smiled. “Actually, you’ll have to thank our daughter, Carrie Anne, for that.”
It took Maisy only a moment to place the name. “The cute little girl who asked for my autograph after the Waco rodeo? That’s your daughter? I figured she had a daddy in rodeo. She knows more about horses and rodeo than I do.”
“At least she thinks she does,” Christie said. “Horses are her life and she was thrilled she got to see a real bronc-riding woman. Although she wasn’t happy when she found out that y’all don’t get to ride with the men. She harped about the injustice all the way home to Bliss and begged Cord to get things changed.” She smiled at her husband. “And he’ll do anything for his children and grandchildren. He spoils our son and grandson as much as he spoils Carrie Anne.”
Cord didn’t look old enough to be a grandparent. And his wife certainly didn’t. “Well, I sure appreciate you giving me the opportunity, Mr. Evans. And I’d like to thank Carrie Anne as well. Is she here?”
Cord nodded. “She’s in the bleachers with our good friend, Maybelline Marble. We’ll bring her by later. She can be pretty talkative and I didn’t want her to distract you before your ride.”
“Maisy’s not riding.”
All three of them turned to Sawyer. Before Maisy could speak up, Cord did.
“Hey, Sawyer. I didn’t realize it was you beneath that Stetson.” It wasn’t surprising that Cord knew him. Sawyer had made a name for himself in rodeo.
“Hi, Cord.” Sawyer nodded his head at Cord’s wife. “Christie. I’m sorry to interrupt your conversation, but I don’t think Maisy should ride today. It’s just too dangerous.”
If Sawyer hadn’t tacked on those last three words, Maisy might’ve been able to keep her cool. But those words had always gotten her dander up. All through her childhood, she’d heard them repeated over and over again to keep her from doing things she wanted to do. And yet, that same warning hadn’t been issued to the boys her age. They were allowed to have all the fun they wanted while she had to stand on the sidelines and watch because “it’s just too dangerous” for a little girl.
Well, she wasn’t a little girl anymore. And she was sick to death of the double standard.
“Too dangerous?” She narrowed her eyes at