“Of course he is,” I said. “Isn’t that dangerous?”
“Yep,” he said. “Been doin’ it since I was little, though, so it’s second nature.”
“Wyatt, there you are.” The breathy voice of Brandy blew through my eardrums like a cat being strangled.
“Hey, Brandy,” he said. “I just finished.”
Brandy gave him a really weird-looking pouty face. “Oh, I thought you’d come find me.”
“Did you needme for somethin’?” he asked.
She sent a derisive look in Dylan’s direction and I stepped slightly in front of my friend in case she needed protection.
“Oh, no. I just wondered if you did, since you’re loitering here in the hallway.”
“We were just catching up,” Dylan said.
“Oh?” Brandy said, her bitch-meter on full. “Did I overhear that you’ll be racing at the roundup this year?”
“Um, no,”Dylan said, stiffening. “You bought my horse from Dad after I moved to Portland, remember? Besides, we’re not going to be here long enough for Roundup. We’re solving this case, and then getting the hell out.”
My ears perked up. Dylan never told me what had happened to her horse. I knew she used to ride competitively, but didn’t know the extent. It felt weird to hear so many details of her lifeback here that I didn’t know.
“Too bad,” Brandy said. “I’ve held the championship for barrels since you left.”
“Good for you,” Dylan said. “I’m glad Dusty’s still getting up there. I trained him well.”
“I bet Dylan could give you a run for your money, Brandy,” Wyatt said. “Remember how bad she smoked you the year before she left?”
Okay, I was starting to really like this guy.
“My horse wentlame,” Brandy said.
“Right, I forgot about that,” Wyatt said, sounding as though he didn’t believe it for a second.
“I could have totally beaten her.”
“Why don’t you put your money where your mouth is?” I challenged.
“Addison,” Dylan said on a low groan.
“What do you mean?” Brandy asked.
“Dylan will enter and we’ll find out if it’s your horse oryouthat’s lame.”
“Holy shit on a stick,”Dylan hissed.
Wyatt laughed.
“Even if Dylan could find a horse this close to Roundup, she’d never beat me,” Brandy snapped. “Besides, she would have had to be registered for barrel racing by now. The only event you don’t have to pre-register for is the Buddy Barrel Pick-up, and she’d need a partner for that.”
“Cool, she’s got one,” I said.
“No, no, no, no,” Dylan chanted.
Brandy settledher hands on her hips. “Yeah, who?”
“You’re lookin’ at her,” I said, matching her glare.
Brandy snorted. “You’ve got to be kiddin’ me. You’re a city girl. What do you know about horses?”
Dylan dropped her head back and talked to the ceiling. “Stupid, stupid, stupid.”
I giggled. “Oh, honey, I’ve owned horses worth more than this building, and probably jumped courses with obstacles taller, sodon’t you worry your pretty little pea-brain about my riding abilities.” I was on a roll, which probably should have been aborted several challenges back. “We’ll kick your ass from here to Friday at picking up these buddy barrels.”
Shaking her head, Dylan grabbed my arm and tugged me away.
