“Yes. But there’s something I have to do first.”

The intent hung between them.

“Maybe someday I’ll get up the guts to go too,” her mother said softly. “Call me if you need me.”

Even after the enlightening yet surreal conversation with her mother, Lainie was restless. Staring at the bare white walls of her apartment the next two days while Hank was in Omaha wasn’t an option. As she packed a bag, her cell phone rang. Lainie attempted to put a smile in her voice. “Hey, Tanna, how’s it going in Lubbock?”

“I finished top of the leaderboard in the first go.”

“That’s awesome.”

“Yeah, but it’s a two-day event and there’s no one cool to hang with since you’re not here. By the way, I finally ditched that ass**le Steve. I can’t believe I wasted four months of my life on him.”

“Glad you finally saw the light, and you’ll get back to the wild Tanna I know and love.”

“We’ll see. Anyway, enough about me. Are you excited to start the new job?”

“No. I’m . . . done with Lariat.”

“What?”

Lainie began to explain calmly, but with all that’d happened in the last week, she lost it. She babbled about her mother, her future, her past, all her realizations in the past three weeks. When she took a breath, she realized Tanna hadn’t uttered a peep. “Sorry.” She sniffled. “It just hit me all at once.”

“Where are you?” Tanna demanded.

“Getting ready to leave my apartment.”

“Stay put. If I leave right now, I can be there in eight hours.”

“No.” Lainie teared up again. “God, Tanna, I appreciate that you’d drop everything for me, but you’re in first place. This is a big rodeo with a big purse and you have to stay there and win it.”

“Fine. You don’t have a job. Drive down here. We’ll get shit-faced and act like total idiots. Then you can come home with me to the ranch for as long as you need to.”

She pressed her neck into the back of the couch. “I may take you up on that later. But there’s something I need to do first.”

“Girl, are you finally goin’ to Hank and letting him know how you feel?” She allowed a thoughtful pause. “Please tell me you called him about what happened with Lariat today.”

“Hank’s got enough to worry about. His first event with the EBS is this weekend.”

“Lainie, you know I love ya, but sometimes I wanna strangle you. Hank’s a big boy. He deserves to know.”

“I’ll tell him. I promise. Soon. Just not tonight. Tonight I have to do something I’ve been putting off for a long time.”

“What? Where are you going?”

“Cheyenne.” Her cell phone beeped, signaling low battery. “Look. I have a ways to drive and my phone is almost dead. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay,” Tanna said grudgingly. “Drive safe.”

“I will.”

Lainie turned the phone off. She threw her bag in the back of her truck and lit out. As soon as she pulled back onto I-25 north, she knew that this time there’d be no detours. No excuses. No more running from the past. She’d face those demons head-on.

Hank paced. Unproductive, but it eased some of his rage. He’d promised Lainie he’d stick to their agreement of giving her time to think. He’d been doing pretty well, except for the ten times a day he picked up his phone to call her, only to remember at the last second that he shouldn’t.

The fact that Lainie hadn’t relayed this disturbing turn of events, that he’d had to hear it from Tanna again, chapped his ass. Big-time.

Maybe she didn’t tell you because she knew how you’d react: huffing and throwing your weight around like an out-of-control bull.

Worked for him.

He passed the T-shirt stand and the section overloaded with EBS everything. Belt buckles, neckerchiefs, posters, program guides, DVDs, CDs, even wispy lace thongs were displayed.

The EBS was big business.

The little slip of a secretary was no match for Hank. He bulled his way into Bryson Westfield’s traveling office in the back of an EBS logoed semi trailer.

Miz Bony Secretary cut in front of Hank and glared before directing her comments to her boss. “Sir, I’m sorry. He just blew right past me—”

“It’s all right. This man is damn near unstoppable, which is why he’s a fine bullfighter.” He gestured with his pen. “Just make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

“Yes, sir.” Her beaklike nose nearly brushed the floor, her head hung so low on her retreat.

Not that Bryson Westfield noticed. He shooed away the men wielding papers and didn’t speak until the door clicked shut behind them.

“Mr. Lawson. This is your first official EBS event, but it ain’t your first rodeo. Do I really need to detail what constitutes rude behavior?”

“No.”

“Good. Storming in here and bullying my secretary is unacceptable. You’d better have a damn good reason why you saw fit to make yourself my priority today.”

Inhale. Exhale. Stay f**king calm. Deep breath in. Long, slow breath out. “For the record, I apologize. It wasn’t my intention—”

“The road to hell and all that springs to mind, Hank, so get to the point. I’m a busy man.”

There’s still time to slink away. To back down. Do your job, collect a paycheck, and smile like an idiot.