Page 73 of Dusty Spur Ranch Cowboys

She sits back in her chair and processes that quietly. “And now he’s out.”

“Recently.”

Saying it aloud makes my stomach tighten again.

Maybe because it turns an old story into a current problem. Or because Arizona saw him with her own eyes.

Either way, I don’t like it.

She watches me for several seconds before reaching the same conclusion everybody else already has. “You think he’s here because of you.”

“No.”

The answer comes out fast enough that Willy actually laughs.

I shoot him a look.

He raises both hands. “Hey, don’t drag me into this. I’m just enjoying the world’s least convincing answer.”

Arizona doesn’t take her eyes off me. “The man spent an entire afternoon watching you.”

“Could’ve been coincidence.”

The second the words leave my mouth, I know I’ve made a mistake.

Across the table, Emmett slowly lowers his beer.

Willy stares at me. Arizona stares at me.

Hell, even Sadie glances up from her fries like she’s evaluating my judgment.

Willy scratches his jaw. “That’s what we’re going with?”

“Apparently.”

“Interesting strategy.”

I glare at him.

He grins, because this is how Willy handles things that scare him.

The problem is I don’t know what to think.

Part of me wants to believe Arizona spotted an old rival who happened to be sitting in the stands.

Rodeo’s a small world. People cross paths all the time.

Twenty years is a long damn time to carry a grudge, and prison should’ve given Travis plenty of opportunities to find a different hobby.

My beer suddenly tastes like cardboard.

Across the table, Arizona studies me with the same focus she brings to everything that catches her attention. Songs, people, and trouble.

I suspect she’d put all three in the same category if given the opportunity.

Before I realize what she’s doing, she reaches across the table and touches my wrist.

It’s barely a touch at all. Just her fingertips brushing my skin.