the rest to do so. She waved at him a little, and his heart lurched to the side of his chest to follow her.
Dang. He hadn’t been this crazy over a girl in years. Maybe never.
This was all new territory, and he couldn’t say he minded all that much. Apart from the fact that she’d likely never fully trust a man again, given what her ex had put her through. She might not have any interest in dating or relationships for a long time. Maybe not ever, depending on how her therapy with Kellie went and what she decided for herself.
He’d support her no matter what, but he’d also start wishing that wasn’t the case.
She had held his hand last night.
The fact that he was even thinking about that made him feel like a pathetic thirteen-year-old. Maybe even a girl—he wasn’t sure. He’d never thought about stuff like that when he was thirteen, but he knew his sisters had.
He needed to stop thinking. At all. Maybe he could head out to Pete’s after this and get in some late-night steer wrestling. Focus on something else that didn’t make him feel so off-kilter.
The trouble was that even seeing his dog made him think of Brynn now.
Not okay.
Did either of his sisters ever have this problem?
Did Darren? He was too afraid to ask Tucker. He was a bit of a lady’s man, and Ford couldn’t be sure if he’d have a better or worse opinion of his little brother after that conversation.
“Well, well, well . . . That’s not something you see every day. Motor in a box.”
Ford’s eyes widened as he scanned the crowd of carnival goers, knowing that the only people who would call him Motor would be people from home.
And also knowing exactly who was calling him that now.
There was a break in the group in front of him, and there she was. Light denim jeans, loose T-shirt, long, sandy hair braided and slung over a shoulder, and an all-too familiar straw hat sitting on her head.
“Shayla Belle, what are you doing here?” Ford demanded, unable to help grinning at the sight of his little sister, even if she was looking smug.
“Came to check out Lost Creek, big brother.” She eyed the dunk tank target, her eyes narrowing. “Hmm. Someone really ought to give this a whirl.”
Ford swallowed, shaking his head. “Shay, don’t you dare.”
But she was already handing over a five-dollar bill for three balls.
She’d only need one.
It was a little known fact outside of Montana, but Shay Hopkins could have gone into professional softball after college. All-American, full-ride scholarship, and the only softball player in the school’s history to have five no-hitters to her name.
He was toast.
Before he could even pretend to hang onto something, Shay wound up and released a pitch so fast and screeching that Ford was positive it broke the target when it hit. But as he was dropped into the tank of water the moment it did hit, it was tough to say what exactly it sounded like.
He pushed off the bottom and squinted as his face broke the surface. Wiping the water out of his eyes, he looked out at his sister, now happily hugging a green teddy bear in a cowboy hat.
Ford shook his head, muttering incoherently as he turned and hauled himself out of the tank, feeling twenty pounds heavier in soaking-wet clothes.
He took the towel offered by the local carnival volunteer before heading down the stepladder and nodded at Tom Hauser, the head honcho of Lost Creek Rodeo events, who was lined up to sit in the tank next.
“Good luck, man,” Ford said as he passed.
Tom clapped him on the back with a grin. “Glenda’s delighted I’m doing this. Too many days around the livestock in a row. I’m shocked she didn’t put something fresh-smelling in the water.”
Ford sniffed himself, then shook his head. “Sorry, just Lost Creek water.”
Tom chuckled and climbed up to face his fate.
Ford was about to do the same.
Rubbing at his wet hair with the towel, he walked over to where his sister stood, swaying in place with her teddy bear like a six-year-old, her dimples on full display as she grinned at him. Ford didn’t smile back, but that was only because he had a payback plan.
He’d smile when it was over.
Shay’s grin grew wary as he approached, then faded completely, eyes wide, when she realized he wasn’t stopping. “No, no, no, no, no, Ford, you can’t . . .” She backed up hastily,