Chapter One

Rico Knight parked his big black Chevy truck in one of the paved slots just off the massive garage of the Mesa Malloy Ranch and wondered again how Dyna Malloy would look in person.

‘Cause she sure sounded good on the phone.

Dyna was well-known around the Western Rodeo Circuit. Several of her saddle and bareback riding broncs had gone on to win the regional WRC, held here in Vegas each year around December. He’d researched her, of course. But the images of her online were grainy and hard to see.

Here today in the afternoon heat of a sunny spring day to help her with a particularly ornery gelding named Domino, Rico thought back over the report he’d read. A painted horse, black and white with a dominant tobiano gene, and apparently as crash-and-burn as a stack of falling dominoes from what Dyna had told Rico over the phone. The five-year-old wouldn’t make the circuit this year. But Rico hoped to have the gelding ready for next year’s competition.

Domino’s owner had some attitude, too. She seemed to be insulted by having to call in special help but Edwin Penstone had called Rico last week and offered him a huge amount of money to drive here from Texas and spend a week working with Domino, here on the impressive spread.

“We need to get this bronc back on the circuit,” Edwin had stated in his no-nonsense way. “Can you come?”

“I’m between jobs,” Rico had replied. “Give me a couple of days.”

As a courtesy, he’d called ahead to discuss matters with Dyna and ask her to email him Domino’s file, since technically she was the boss.

“I don’t like this,” she’d told him right off the bat, her voice sliding like honey through the phone connection. “But Edwin seems to think we need an expert and I’ve exasperated just about every trainer in Vegas, including one who’d been with us for years. I had to let him go because we disagreed on some of his tactics. I don’t abide cruelty to animals.”

“I don’t either,” Rico had assured her. “I prefer to be called a trainer, not a bronc buster.” Even though some people thought anything involving the rodeo life involved cruelty to animals. “I’ll come and take a look.”

“And I’ll decide if I need you to stay.”

So here he was, wondering about the bronc in question and intrigued by the woman who had inherited this place from her legendary father, Dallas Malloy.

Dyna Malloy didn’t want him here.

Domino had no idea he was coming.

And Rico wasn’t sure he even wanted to be here.

But he loved a good challenge.

* * *

Dyna Malloy stood at the wide kitchen window and watched the big truck growling its way up the drive, anticipation causing her afternoon cup of coffee to roil inside her stomach.

Of all the horse trainers in the world, why did it have to be Rico Knight? Not that he didn’t come with high recommendations. The Knights were legendary inside the rodeo world, especially inside the Western Rodeo Circuit, which their ancestors had started over a hundred years ago. Now, after some shady rodeo happenings a few years back, the Knight Investigation Agency, established by the three Knight brothers who lived and worked from Montana to Utah and Nevada and all around, had become a big part of the circuit, too. Good idea to have qualified people on the inside looking out for the circuit and investigating any extra-curricular activities. Jesse, Michael and Sean made a good team and a lot of the locals used their services. Because the rodeo didn’t just produce winners. The circuit carried a lot of losers who liked to stir up trouble, too. The Knight Investigation Agency stepped in to help law enforcement solve any rodeo-related crimes.

No crime here, though. Other than the fact that her prized bucking horse had stubbornly decided not to buck.

But she didn’t need to call in some overblown expert to help her with Domino. The gelding had been the one to draw and had taken bronc riders to the top in two regional championships and after winning Saddle Bronc of the Year twice in a row, had been on his way to becoming a top draw at the WRC Nationals held in Las Vegas in the fall. He knew the rodeo circuit because he’d been bred as a saddle bronc and he’d been trained to buck cowboys since he was a two-year-old colt. She handled his colt training herself and soon realized he could turn into a prime bucking horse. Now all of sudden, Domino no longer wanted to cooperate.

Dyna had fired at least two expert handlers over the last few months. She didn’t need another one telling her what was wrong with her horse.

Her troubles didn’t require any of the Knights, although Sean, a veterinarian who dealt specifically with rodeo animals, had come out to check on her stock on occasion. He was now happily married to one of her neighbors, Cella Cassidy, who owned the Triple Seven Rodeo Ranch.

After he’d checked over Domino and found nothing to indicate why the animal had choked, she’d told him Edwin had called in Rico. Sean had nodded and laughed. “That ought to get a rise out of someone. Wished I’d thought of that myself.”

Not sure what he’d meant by that, Dyna was riled, all right. Aggravated, annoyed and tired, too.

No, right now Dyna had one major problem. A rodeo horse that did not like humans and sure didn’t want one on his back. A horse that had been full of the right stuff but now seemed indifferent and uncaring. Sometimes he’d buck and sometimes he just shut down. The last time Domino had shut down had been inside the chute at an important event in Wyoming. He’d become so docile the bronc rider had thrown up his hands and said a few foul words before hopping off and stomping away.

While broncs needed to be a bit wild by by nature, this one might not ever be suitable for the rodeo again. But she wanted to get him into shape anyway. Her gut told her he could be a real winner but for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out how a gelding that had been sired here on her ranch could turn out to be so skittish and afraid. Everyone who’d tried to break Domino had walked off the job with just one ride. He hated having cowboys on his back. Which made him the perfect bucking horse.

So what had happened?

And why did Edwin feel the need to call in Rico Knight, an outsider who’d lived in Texas all of his life, before he’d cleared that with her?

Maybe because Edwin was her mother’s boyfriend and he wanted to take over this ranch. Edwin had pulled a few stunts like this over the last year or so, but nothing so bold as hiring someone without consulting her.

“Over my dead body,” Dyna said now, wishing she didn’t feel so distrustful. But Edwin had insinuated himself into their lives about six months after Dyna’s daddy, Dallas Malloy, a pillar of the community, had died suddenly of a massive heart attack. Edwin rubbed her the wrong way, but at least he made her mother happy.

Her daddy, a man who loved ranching and the rodeo, had always told Dyna she would be the one running this ranch one day. Two years ago, Dallas Malloy’s last will and testimony had solidified that promise. Her father had left her mother and Dyna with a solid fortune, divided equally. But Dyna owned the ranch while her mother could remain here until her dying days. Since then, she’d worked hard and kept things going. Even with Edwin Penstone throwing unsolicited advice her way at every turn.

She’d tried to like the man. Really, she had. But it wasn’t happening. He had enough wealth of his own from being the owner of a giant real estate empire, but he couldn’t replace her father.

So no, she wasn’t too keen on him meddling in her business by bringing in someone she didn’t know to help with Domino.

Or maybe this particular aversion came from the fact that her former fiancée, Chip Hatfield, had been a tall Texan, too. And he’d cheated on her and double-crossed her one time too many before she finally wised up and sent him off into the sunset. Alone. Chip seemed like a dream come true—good with horses and workers but he’d become her worst nightmare—bad with monogamy and money.

Dyna couldn’t change all of that and she couldn’t send Rico packing just because she was still a tad bitter, so she waited for him to get out the truck and then she took her time looking him over in the same way she did livestock.

He’d sounded pleasant enough when they’d talked yesterday. A trace of a Hispanic accent, probably from his mother, Teresa, and a stubbornness that shouted Knight all over.

But when the man put his black boots to the ground and slammed the truck door, her heart slammed too. Right up against her chest. This one was different.

Silky brown longish hair and dark shades, a white button-up shirt and worn jeans. Muscular and tall, but not too tall. Confident. Calm. Cool as a drink of spring water.

When he whipped off the shades and stared at the house, she stepped back and took a breath.

The man has Texas written all over him.

And attitude. He wore it like a bad boy badge of honor.

Dyna didn’t know whether to be glad about that, or to run the other way and ignore all the dormant feelings awakening inside her belly.

She was already fighting a half-wild rodeo horse.

Now she wondered if she’d also be fighting a half-wild horse handler and trainer, too. A real bronc buster, whether he used that term or not.

Well, she’d always liked a good challenge.