"Good luck today," she said.
She met Adam at the cafe and scarfed a quick breakfast before they both headed to the livery.
Adam had already gone inside Domino's stall when she reached Buster's holding pen.
Whatever good spirits she'd felt at Adam's romantic declaration and Johnson's gratitude dissipated like fog under a brisk wind when she moved to saddle her horse.
Her stirrups fell to the ground as she lifted the saddle. Both of them landed with distinct thuds in the dirt at her feet.
She replaced the saddle on the railing and knelt to pick up the stirrups.
Adam glanced at her. "What's wrong?"
She fingered the leather. It had been sliced neatly through. "Someone cut them."
Adam stepped closer. "What?"
She held up the useless pieces of leather to show him.
His eyes narrowed, and his mouth flattened in a line. He glanced around, but no one in their vicinity was watching. He lifted his saddle and checked the straps and stirrups. They were intact.
Breanna glanced around. No one else was having trouble. Nothing was amiss for any other rider.
She'd been the target.
"Who do you think did it?" Adam's voice was low and angry.
She didn't answer. She was fairly certain it had to have been Scar-face or his friend.
"I need to find the race master," she said.
Cowboys on horseback were leaving the livery in droves. She needed to take care of this before the race master got on the train for the next leg.
"Can you stay with the horses?" she asked.
"I'll go with you."
She shook her head. "Stay with the horses. Somebody who would do this"—she held up the stirrup—"wouldn't stop at hurting an animal."
"Or you." He stood with hands on hips like some kind of protector, reminding her of one of her older brothers.
"Adam—"
"I'm going with you."
She didn't want him to. She was going to confront Scar-face if possible, and Adam would lose his temper. She just knew it.
She tried one last time. "We can't race without the horses."
"I'd never forgive myself—"
She grunted in frustration. The man was so hard-headed!
"There are people all around. It's almost daylight."
She threw up her hands when he didn't relent. That'd been two minutes of wasted breath trying to convince him to stay with the horses. It had been like arguing with a stone, and her ire was high.
Minutes later, she'd tracked down the race master, Adam on her heels. Though silver edged the horizon, the boardwalk was mostly empty. No one but race riders in were stirring in town.
