Page 24 of Dusty Spur Ranch Cowboys

It’s probably meant to be playful.

Unfortunately, Sadie Holt treats uncertainty as a personal challenge.

Her shoulders droop slightly, enough to make a person feel like they’ve accidentally kicked a puppy.

Across the table, I watch Arizona realize she’s stepped directly into a trap.

Then Sadie delivers the finishing blow. “Please? Before bed?”

Arizona lasts all of three seconds. A smile breaks across her face. “Okay.”

Sadie throws both fists into the air. “Yes!”

The celebration is so enthusiastic that several people laugh.

Emmett shakes his head into his drink, looking entirely unsurprised. Red tries to hide a grin and fails miserably.

Arizona looks completely unprepared for what just happened.

She still doesn’t realize she’s been adopted, because that’s what Sadie does. She picks her people, plants both feet, and refuses to let go.

And once Sadie Holt decides she loves you, you’re pretty much family whether you planned on it or not.

CHAPTER FIVE

Arizona

I should’ve left at least an hour ago. Probably two.

Instead, I’m sitting beside a bonfire at Dusty Spur Ranch with a beer in my hand, listening to Willy Kane explain why raccoons are secretly running an organized crime ring.

“It’s the hands,” he says, gesturing with complete confidence. “Nobody trusts those little grabby hands.”

“They don’t have hands,” Red says from across the fire.

Willy points at him. “That’s exactly what a raccoon sympathizer would say.”

“They have paws.”

“They have agendas.”

Across the fire, Emmett rubs a hand over his face. “Please don’t start this again.”

Willy swivels toward him. “Emmett knows.”

“I don’t know anything.”

“Interesting choice of words.”

Emmett groans.

“You hear that, Arizona? That’s the sound of a guilty man.”

I laugh hard enough that I nearly spill my beer.

Willy catches it and points triumphantly. “Thank you. Finally, somebody around here appreciates investigative journalism.”

“You’ve never investigated anything in your life,” Red says.