“You’re both nuts,” Sam said.
“He’s right,” Dusty said. “About me needing to be with Diablo.”
“Whatever.”
“Hey,” Harper said, “I just came by to warn you that McCray’s on his way. I’m glad you’re feeling better, Dusty. Hope to see you out on the grounds soon.”
“I’ll be there tomorrow.”
“No, you won’t, young lady,” Sam said, his tone parental.
“Why not? I’m perfectly fine.”
“You’re recovering from a concussion.” Her brother shook his head. “If I have to get the doctor to tie you down, I will.”
Dusty huffed. Sam was right, of course. There’d be no more competing, either. She’d blown it big time. No winnings, and she had lost Regina. And there was the problem of that phone call, which she hadn’t told Sam about yet. “Fine.”
“Now you’re talkin’ some sense,” came a voice from the doorway. Zach wheeled himself into the room with one arm, dragging his IV stand with the other.
He had an IV. Dusty’s heart collapsed, and she looked away, concentrating on the figures of Harper and Sam.
“If you’ll excuse us, Harper, Sam, I’d like to speak to Dusty.”
“That’s up to her, I think,” Harper said.
“Damn it, Bay—”
Sam grabbed Harper’s shoulder and ushered him out. “You’re entitled to a few minutes, Zach,” he said, “but don’t upset her.”
“The last thing I want is to see her upset.” Zach wheeled himself over to Dusty’s head. Once Chad had shut the door, Zach leaned over and kissed Dusty’s forehead. “Thank God you’re all right.”
Dusty’s throat tensed. He was going to be nice to her. It would be so much easier if he were angry. He had a right to be. As upset as she was with him, she hadn’t had the right to ride Diablo without his permission.
“I’m sorry,” she said meekly.
“I know.”
“Why aren’t you mad?”
He chuckled. “I am mad. My thigh hurts like a mother, I can’t compete, and someone I care about is hurt due to her own stupidity.”
“Hey—”
“Sorry, darlin’, but getting on Diablo all by yourself like that was stupid, and you know it. Even I can’t believe it, but I’m just so relieved you’re not seriously injured.”
&
nbsp; Dusty gulped, tears forming in her eyes. Why did he have to look so wonderful? His hair was tousled and sexy, his face unshaven and rugged, and he wore green flannel pajama pants and a silk robe. She was still furious with him, yet she burned for him. Her entire body trembled at his nearness.
“It’ll be okay,” Zach said.
“No.” She sniffed. “Nothing’s okay.”
“I’ll make it okay. I swear it.”
“You can’t.”
“I can. I want to. If you’ll just tell me—”