“Doesn’t matter now.” She straightened and he realized he was still holding her upper arm. He let go and she tugged at the hem of her colorful long sleeve, fluffed the bright red wig and stuck her jaw out. “We’re going to be late.”
Seth followed her glance to the clock on the wall. She was right. They had to get going. “Are you sure you’re up to this?” He was concerned. He wanted to know about the fear lingering in her eyes. Color had crept back into her cheeks, but she was still tense, glancing over his shoulder every few seconds as though she expected someone to walk up.
“I’m fine. Or I will be.” Her blue gaze met his, and just like always, he felt drawn to her. She appeared fragile, yet he knew how strong she really was. And brave. No one could face down a thousand-pound bull and not have a spine of steel. That was why the fear in her eyes rattled him. Made him want to confront whatever had scared her. She gave him a light shove toward the men’s dressing rooms. “I’ll be out there in a minute.”
“I’ll wait.”
She shook her head. “Go. You need to get ready. I’m on the way to the arena. I’ll be right behind you.”
Another glance at the clock sent urgency shooting through him. She was right—he’d have to hurry. “All right.” He looked around. “I think that guy is gone.”
“Good. Go. I’ll be fine.”
Seth hesitated one more second, then took off, his boots echoing against the concrete floor. He didn’t know much about Tonya, just what he’d learned from working with her on an almost daily basis. But what he knew, he liked, and he vowed to make an effort to get to know her better. Soon. The fact that she was scared of the guy Seth had caught in the storage room really worried him. Not only did he vow to get to know Tonya better, he promised to be there for her if she needed him. For friendship, protection...or more.
* * *
Tonya watched Seth leave and reached out to grip the doorframe. Chills pebbled over her skin. Hank Newman had found her. For years she’d never stopped watching over her shoulder and today it had paid off. Sort of. She’d seen him before he’d seen her. He looked different, but she’d recognized him. Almost too late, but quick enough to get away from him.
Seth Starke had shown up at just the right time. And so had the attraction that she’d been noticing every time she found herself in Seth’s presence. But she couldn’t think about that right now.
Confusion flooded through her. What was Hank doing here? No, wrong question. She knew what he was doing here. The main question was: How had he found her?
Another quick look at the clock had her groaning. She wilted against the doorframe to give herself a few seconds to get it together. Finally, she straightened, scrutinized the few people hurrying toward the stairs that would lead up to the arena. She had a show to finish. Then she could figure out her next move.
* * *
Seth watched Mia Addison entertain the crowd with the two dogs who traveled with her wherever she went. They were great for filling up the downtime that happened between rides and events. Adults loved her show as much as the kids. Seth let his gaze wander the area. Where was Tonya? She’d said she’d be right behind him.
Tonya Waters. The woman who’d started to come to mind more often than not. He’d thought he’d seen her slip into the supply room and had planned to grab a private moment to ask her out. Only he’d found another man following her.
Someone who’d scared her enough to send her into hiding. Just as he’d been about to open the door to the storage room and call out to her, she’d opened it herself. The sheer terror that had stared back at him for that brief moment before she realized it was him stayed with him and he planned to ask her about it as soon as he could.
He drew in a steadying breath and climbed the gate, balancing himself on the top rail. Soon he’d throw his legs over and drop onto the bull who pranced and snorted. He glanced up. Still no Tonya.
He’d noticed her from the moment he’d met her, but she’d belonged to someone else. Now she was single again, her boyfriend killed in a freak bullfighting accident. He’d heard through the grapevine that Tonya still blamed herself a year later. The sadness in her eyes drew him, made him want to offer comfort. Which was crazy. His eyes scanned the area again. His already tense muscles bunched harder. Had the guy who’d frightened her gone back to find her? Where was she?
As though in answer to his silent question, Tonya stepped into the arena, rolling her barrel. She wore loose-fitting clothes that would enable her to move freely and quickly. Underneath the brightly colored shirt, she wore a vest. The vest and the barrel would protect her—somewhat—if the bull came after her.
Seth shuddered to think of it, but she was a professional. She did her job so he could do his. He swung his legs over the rail fencing and settled himself on the back of the bull. Then he gathered the rosined rope near the bull’s neck.
“You ready for this?” Jake Foster, one of Seth’s good friends and another bull rider, asked.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
Jake, Seth Starke, Daniel Sanders and Monty Addison, Mia’s brother, had been the four buckaroos. Until Daniel had died. Now it was the three of them, and while they fiercely competed against one another for the prize money, they were best friends who still mourned the loss of Daniel.
“We going out for drinks after this?” Jake asked.
“You know I don’t drink.”
“Come on, man. You know the strongest thing I’m talking about is a root beer.”
Seth gave a low chuckle. He did know that. Jake was a recovering alcoholic and had been clean for five years. “We’ll see how this ride goes.”
“I’ll even drive.”
Seth snorted. “No way I’m getting in your trash heap.” The man literally had garbage stacked to the ceiling in the backseat of his king cab. Drink cups, food wrappers, magazines and old newspapers. It had become a joke among the friends. No one would ride in Jake’s truck for fear of getting lost amid the trash. Seth suspected the man did that on purpose. Sure saved him on gas money when he rode with someone else.
“I’ll clean it out just for you.”
“Right.”
“Seriously, I’ll—”
“It’s okay, Jake. You don’t have to try and take my mind off this ride. I need to focus.”
“I know.” His pal shut up and helped Seth settle in. Seth passed the rope between his pinkie and ring finger, then over the top of his hand across the back and around again to thread it under where it crossed his palm. Then he moved the rope between his middle and index fingers and clamped down hard.
He was ready.
No, he wasn’t.
Fear flared. “Do you ever think about Daniel before you ride?” he asked through clenched teeth.
“Every time,” Jake said. He’d watched his friend die just as Seth had. Then six months later, Seth had fallen and been horribly
