Page 14 of July’s Cowboy Dallas

I laughed. “Always several.”

Addison's gaze drifted past me, landing on Dallas as he unloaded gear from his truck.

“And the cowboy shadow?”

“Dallas is helping.”

She narrowed her eyes. “So that’s what we're calling it?”

“Stop.”

“I'm just saying, he looks at you like⁠—”

“Addison.”

She laughed and held up her hands. “Fine. But you're going to have to deal with that eventually.”

He looks at you like… Like what? I wasn't going to ask. Asking meant I wanted to know, and wanting to know meant admitting I'd spent most of the night before wondering the same thing.

“I'm dealing with forged stock certifications right now.”

Her expression sobered. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“God, Sadie.” She glanced toward the Hollister section of the pens. “Are you okay?”

“I will be.”

She studied me for a moment, then nodded. “You always are.”

That wasn't true, but I didn't correct her.

“How long are you here?” I asked.

“Through the Fourth. Then I get a few weeks to recover before Mustang Mountain drags me back for Rodeo Royalty Weekend in August.”

“You love it.”

“I love the girls.” She adjusted her crown. “I tolerate the bobby pins.”

I smiled. Addison cared more about the younger contestants than she let on. She cared about the history, the mentorship, the way rodeo royalty could mean something beyond sparkle and sponsorships.

Her phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen, and her smile slipped. Just for a second, but long enough for me to catch it.

“What’s that about?” I asked.

Her smile returned. Not the real one I’d seen before. This was her rodeo queen grin, bright and practiced.

“It’s nothing I haven't dealt with before.” She held my gaze, her eyes lacking the joy they’d held just a minute ago.

What wasn't she telling me? I wanted to push. Wanted to ask if she was really okay. But Cody Briggs started toward us, and his frown told me whatever came next wasn’t going to be good.

He nodded at Addison then shifted his attention to me. “We’ve got a problem.”

My stomach dropped. “What kind of problem?”

“The steer. The brindle with the bad leg.”