And then the boys were announced. A steer raced out of its pen, and Miles and Brady gave chase onhorseback.
Brady would rope first. No one would've guessed he'd only been roping for a month as the rope swung in a beautiful loop over his head. He flicked his hand, and the rope snaked out and snagged on one of the steer's horns and the side of its neck. She saw Brady’s slightgrimace.
"He wanted both horns," Megan whispered toCarrie.
"Still counts," Carriereturned.
Miles's rope shot out of his hands and snagged the steer's back hooves and tightened. The boys turned their horses to face eachother.
The bellrang.
Brady's fist shot into the air. A good ride for him, too. Their time wouldn't win, but it had been an admirable firsteffort.
Megan stood, ready to go behind the arena and find the kids. Julianneapproached.
"We can't leave yet!" Julianne cried. "I want to watch the grown-up girlsrace."
"But—"
“Hey!” Brady followed his sister, face covered with a slight sheen of sweat and dust. "Can we watch for a while, Aunt Megan?Please?"
The two of them shared a look. Something wasup.
But the fact that Brady was being polite instead of sarcastic won him points. She agreedhalfheartedly.
It would be a long night. They’d have to load up and return the Triple H's horses before they could go home. She'd had a busy day in the practice, a spate of summer flu cases taking up her afternoon and nearly making her late to pick up thekids.
And she needed to think through this Dan thing somemore.
The kids squeezed into the now-empty seats in the row in front of Megan and Carrie. As the night wore on, they accepted congratulations from friends and acquaintances and some of Megan's patients as they passedby.
The sun set, and the arena lights came on to flood the arena. Mosquitos came out fordinner.
Megan was ready to call it quits, but as the men's pairs roping was announced, Julianne was suddenly on the edge of herseat.
And then over the loudspeaker. "Folks, I'm gonna ask your patience. We've got a special request from one of tonight'sriders."
A cowboy in a light blue shirt and black hat stood on the raised platform across the arena, where the announcer and rodeo judges had been sitting allevening.
From this distance, she couldn't tell... the man looked familiar. Was that Dan? Those broad shoulders seemedfamiliar.
And then his voice came over the loudspeaker. "Hi, everyone." Hehesitated.
And her heart was suddenly pounding. What was hedoing?
"I…" He cleared his throat, the sound coming through the speakers. There was a squeal, and she thought she saw him wince. "Sorry. Some of you know my story. And some of you don't care. The fact is, I want to ask for your forgiveness for what I did almost five years ago." He swept his hat off his head. Wiped his forearm across his forehead. "That's right. You." He pointed at a random person with the hat. Pointed at someone else. "And you, too. All of you." He cleared his throatagain.
Her heart was in her throat forhim.
"A lot of you had a hand in my raising up, and I didn't act like a cowboy from Taylor Hills should. I got what I deserved, but a, uh…" He paused, seemed stumble over the next word. "A friend reminded me that an apology goes a long way. So I want you to know that I'm sorry for what I did. That'sall."
There was another ring in the microphone. Dan handed it back to the man who must have been theannouncer.
There was a smattering of applause from the bleachers. More murmuring, as if people didn't know what to do with Dan'sapology.
Danhad gotten up in front of the whole town and apologized. What theheck?
She needed to find him. Talk tohim.
