Page 113 of Dusty Spur Ranch Cowboys

“Willy’s influence.”

“I resent that,” Willy calls through the open back door. “My pancakes have nutritional value. Good to see you, by the way. Thanks for coming, Arizona. We could use your spirit today.”

Much to my surprise, Arizona doesn’t ask. She simply reaches into her tote. “I brought you a little present.”

Sadie’s eyes go wide. “You did?”

Arizona hands her a folded paper bag.

Sadie opens it carefully before tipping a handful of brightly colored guitar picks into her palm, decorated with tiny designs. “They’re horses!”

“I found them in Miller’s Crossing.” Arizona crouches beside her. “Figured every future rock star deserves proper equipment.”

Sadie throws her arms around her again. “I love them.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.” Arizona smiles before looking across at me. “Think you’ve got room in the schedule for another guitar lesson after dinner?”

Sadie answers before I can. “I already know two chords.”

Arizona raises an eyebrow. “Well, look at you.”

“I nearly made Red leave the room.”

“I walked outside voluntarily,” Red says as he comes through the back door carrying his toolbox. He sets it beside the pantry before pointing a finger at Arizona. “You encouraged it.”

“I’m aiming for three chords tonight,” she laughs.

Red reaches for the coffee pot. “I’ll be in the barn.”

“You’ll still hear us.”

“I was afraid you’d say that.”

Arizona flashes him a grin that makes the corner of his mouth twitch despite himself.

Willy wanders in behind him carrying a loaf of bread tucked beneath one arm like he spent the afternoon rescuing it from danger.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he announces, holding it above his head, “your carbohydrate provider has arrived.”

Arizona folds her arms. “Wow.”

He tears the end from the loaf and presents it to Sadie with an elaborate bow. “For the young musician.”

Sadie accepts it with complete seriousness. “Thank you, Sir Willy.”

He places a hand over his heart. “At last. The respect I’ve earned.”

The kitchen fills with laughter, and Sadie slips a pick onto a piece of string while Arizona helps her tie the knot.

They sit shoulder to shoulder, their heads bent over the tiny knot, and Sadie chatters away about Cinnamon learning drums so she can start a band.

Arizona listens to every word like it’s the most interesting conversation she’s had all week. She catches me watching and lifts her head. “What?”

I shake mine. “Just watching you guys.”

She narrows her eyes. “That look usually ends with you worrying about everybody.”

“I’ve got a reputation.”