"Excuse me."
The race master was alone on the boardwalk and turned at her strident words.
"Someone destroyed my saddle." She held up the cut stirrups.
The man's eyes went wide, and he reached for one. She let him examine it.
He handed it back to her. "Any idea who would've done something like this?"
Her eyes flicked to Adam briefly, then away. Here was another reason she'd have preferred he stay with the horses. "Two men cornered me the first night of the race, after check-in. They... threatened me." She'd thought to soften what had happened as she felt Adam go tense beside her, but she didn't. No use sugarcoating it.
"You got a name for these two men?" The race master's expression was inscrutable.
She shook her head. "I could point them out to you if I saw them. One has a scar here"—she swept her fingers across her cheek. "The other has long, stringy blond hair. Neither one looks like they've bathed in weeks."
The race master smiled thinly. "After a couple of days in the saddle, none of you riders are all that fresh." He shook his head. "If no one witnessed the destruction and you can't even name the two men who threatened you…" He said the words as if he didn't believe her at all. "Then I'm afraid there's nothing I can do for you."
The sun was coming over the horizon now, and riders began to gallop down the street in twos and threes, hooves beating.
Her heart was flying along with them.
"You forfeiting?" the race master asked.
Dismay and upset tightened her voice. "No. I'm not finished yet." She spun and marched away.
Adam was wound as tight as a spring beside her.
"Why didn't you tell me you were threatened?"
"Because I didn't wantthisto happen. I have enough protective older brothers coddling me."
If anything, he got wound even tighter.
"Because you can handle yourself." His words seemed like chips of ice.
She nodded, ducking into the livery where only a handful of cowboys remained, saddling up.
Shoot. She hadn't wanted to start out today in a rush after pushing her gelding so hard yesterday. Not that she had a choice.
She was aware of Adam steaming behind her as she went to her saddlebags and rifled in the nearest one until she found a handful of quarters and the two straight pins at the very bottom.
Adam was buckling his saddle on the stallion, his movements jerky. She'd really angered him. Would he abandon the race? Finally leave her behind?
She tucked the stirrups into her waistband and hefted her saddle onto one shoulder.
She was striding past Adam when he whirled from his horse and neatly lifted the saddle from her shoulder.
"Give that back!"
His eyes shot sparks at her—not the good kind like she'd seen in the dance hall this morning. "We aren't finished yet."
She poked him in the gut but the stubborn man didn't give an inch. "I don't have time to fight with you right now."
"Too bad."
The precarious lid on her temper blew open. What had happened this morning wasn't Adam's fault. But his actions now were irritating her, and he washerewhile the men who'd sliced her saddle weren't.
"I'm sorry if I'm not what you imagined for the past three years." She growled the words into his face, her cheeks hot with emotion. "I'm not some simpering miss, and I can protect myself as well as any man. I don't need your help."
