Page 159 of Dusty Spur Ranch Cowboys

“You’d better. I’ve already told everyone you’re worth waiting for.”

He disappears toward the announcer’s stand before someone else can steal his attention.

The midway has grown even busier while I’ve been playing. Families fill every walkway, vendors call out fresh barbecue and homemade pie, kids dart between carnival games with stuffed prizes tucked under their arms, and tourists stop every few feet to admire the horses standing outside the barns.

“Arizona!”

Sadie crashes into my legs with enough enthusiasm to make me laugh.

“There you are,” I say, hugging her before she can wriggle away.

“You were amazing.”

“I’ve sung for you before.”

She shakes her head. “This was the rodeo.”

That explains everything.

Charlie ambles over carrying a funnel cake that’s losing the battle against powdered sugar while Dakota follows with Olivia asleep against her shoulder.

“I think you’ve created a superfan,” Dakota says.

“I can see that.”

Sadie grabs my hand and tugs me toward the children’s arena. “I won a ribbon.” She proudly taps the blue ribbon pinned across her shirt before standing a little taller. “I came third. I would’ve won if Charlie hadn’t bumped me.”

Charlie grins through another bite of funnel cake. “My horse was faster.”

Dakota smiles. “I watched the race. You were both too busy arguing to notice the finish line.”

Clint joins us carrying two lemonades, hands one to Dakota, then ruffles Charlie’s hair. “You practicing for junior bull riding next year?”

Charlie nods without hesitation. “I’m gonna beat everybody.”

Clint laughs. “I like the confidence.”

Before Charlie can promise another championship, Emmett walks over, shaking his head as he watches Sadie pull me farther down the midway.

“I leave her alone for five minutes,” he says.

“She found me.”

“I noticed.”

He brushes dust off Sadie’s shoulder before she catches one of his hands and keeps hold of mine, leading us toward the livestock barns as though she’s responsible for the entire tour.

Rows of horses poke curious noses over their stall doors while visitors stop to admire them. Wyatt finishes checking a pickup horse’s front leg before tightening the wrap around its ankle.

“Everything holding together?” Emmett asks.

Wyatt pats the horse’s neck. “So far. I want every horse ready for this weekend.”

The championship finals.

The reminder settles in the back of my mind before Jesse jogs past chasing his twins. “If either one of you climbs that fence,” he calls after them, “you’re cleaning stalls all week.”

One boy glances over his shoulder. “What if Charlie climbs it?”