Page 56 of One in a Million

Roper understood the concern behind her words. The most common cause of death and injury among rodeo riders wasn’t wrecking in the arena. It was highway accidents from the long, exhausting drives between rodeo gigs. At least the McKennas had good equipment and extra drivers to switch off at the wheel. Still, anything could happen, and Roper knew his parents worried.

He settled onto the step beside her. Clouds drifted over the face of the waning moon, casting shadows across the yard. “Is something keeping you awake?” he asked.

“Not really. I’m just wishing I had a longer break.”

“Being a superstar is hard work. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“I wanted to be a top competitor in the big rodeos. I never wanted to be interviewed on theToday Showor get offers to model forVoguemagazine. But for now, I owe it to the boys to go along with them. We’re a family.”

“Any men in your life? Besides your brothers, I mean?”

“Who’s got time?” Cheyenne’s laugh sounded forced. “And there are so many phonies and exploiters out there—I’m lucky to have three brothers protecting me.”

“Do you ever regret turning down Frank’s offer to train you?” Roper’s question pushed the limits, but he was curious enough to ask anyway.

Her body stiffened beside him. “Reining is a beautiful sport. But it’s all about control. Frank was all about control, too. That’s why he was so good at what he did. But he would have insisted on controlling me. So, no. No regrets.”

Had Frank insisted on controlling Lila, too? Roper had known nothing about their marriage. But he couldn’t imagine the strong-willed woman he’d come to know submitting to her husband’s every demand.

“How did you feel when you heard he’d died?” he asked his sister.

She adjusted her blanket, pulling it tighter around herself. “I felt nothing,” she said. “Nothing at all.”

Roper might have asked her more, but just then his cell phone jangled. He pulled it out of his pocket. The caller was Lila.

“Something’s wrong, Roper. Maybe something awful.” Lila’s words were broken, her voice hoarse with strain. “If you can come—”

“Hang on,” he said. “I’ll be right there.”

CHAPTERFIFTEEN

Lila had chosen to spend the night on the patio to get the strongest possible signal from the walkie-talkies. The cattle had been rounded up and herded into the largest pasture with the cowboys, mounted and armed with flashlights and loaded rifles, guarding the perimeter. Lila had ordered them to keep in touch with each other, and to check in with her anytime they felt the need.

This should have been Darrin’s job, not hers. But he’d gone home, leaving her to manage this crisis. Because she was concerned about the young cowhands, she had stepped in. Maybe she could use this incident in court as an example of how he would manage the ranch if it were to go to him. Not that it would matter to a judge.

Sometime after midnight, she’d begun to drift. Then a frantic voice came through the receiver of the walkie-talkie.

“Smokey’s horse just showed up with an empty saddle. His rifle’s in the scabbard. No answer when we try to call him. Over.”

Lila’s pulse slammed as possible scenarios flashed through her mind. Maybe the young cowboy had dozed off, slid out of the saddle, and was walking safely back to the herd. Or maybe . . . But she couldn’t allow herself to imagine the worst.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” she’d told the cowboy who called. “If you go to look for him, stay together and make plenty of noise. Nobody goes off alone. Call me if you see anything. Understood? Over.”

“Understood. Over and out.”

One of the four-wheelers was parked behind the house with the loaded Weatherby, a powerful spotlight, a first-aid kit, and a spare can of gasoline already inside. She could leave this minute. But she’d warned the cowboys not to go out alone. She’d be wise to follow her own advice. If she got into a situation she couldn’t handle, with no backup, she’d only be making matters worse.

She could wake Sam. But he didn’t work for the ranch. And with a young cowboy missing and death lurking out there in the darkness, there was only one man she wanted at her side.

She made the call to Roper.

* * *

Ten minutes later, with no word from the cowboys, she saw his truck swinging into the employee drive, engine roaring, tires churning up gravel. She met him partway in the four-wheeler. He parked and bailed out of the truck, rifle in hand. Minutes later, with Lila at the wheel, they were flying across the pastures toward the place where the boys had been guarding the herd. The roar of the engine, at full throttle, made conversation difficult, but feeling Roper’s calm presence beside her, Lila was grateful that she’d waited.

They stopped at the herd. The steers didn’t appear to be in danger, but they were stirring and lowing, as if scenting something on the wind. The cowboys were gone. Lila used the walkie-talkie to call them.

“Have you found any sign of Smokey?” she asked. “Over.”

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