The bucking bull flew through the air, kicking his hind legs high off the ground, ramming his rider in the shoulder blades with his backside. Risa Forrester “oofed” as she jerked forward with the power of the beast’s attempt to throw her, but just managed to fling her free arm forward in time, saving her balance and her eight-second ride on the back of Darth Vader, one of the rankest damn animals in bull riding competition.

Adrenaline raced through Risa’s body like the headiest of drugs, making her feel incredibly alive and invincible, temporarily as powerful and strong as the bull she rode to personal victory. The bull rope in her riding hand dug into her palm through the thickness of her glove, tingling the nerve endings in her hand to sharp pinpricks of complete awareness, and then numbing her to the point where she fleetingly wondered if she still had a hold on her ride. The muscles straining from her forearm all the way up through her shoulder screamed, and told her she did.

Darth Vader spun into her hand at the last moment in an attempt to best her, but just as Risa felt her center tilt off course, flinging her into a spiral down the animal’s side, the sound of a blaring horn reached her ears--the very sweetest, most wonderful noise in any riders’ life.

The bull circled in an amazingly tight turn, but his muscles rippled and shifted between her legs, telling her his plan. Risa took her chance just a second later, releasing her rope and freeing her hand as he switched directions, allowing her to jump off, away from his turn and affording her the opening to run toward the safety of the fencing around the ring. She climbed up to the top and looked in the direction of the scoreboard, her heart racing while she waited for her total. She took in the cheering of the crowd who appreciated any cowboy--or girl--that stayed on for an eight-second ride.

Watching the board so intently it blurred before her eyes, the red numbers for her ride and the bull’s performance finally lit up with her scores, averaging together for 88.50. Risa whooped and threw her helmet in the air, pumping her fist and screaming with the crowd as her name went to the top of the leader board after two rounds of riding. That score set her in certain position for the final go round. She searched the crowd for her partner in crime, knowing his excitement would match her own.

She found Caleb Hawkins, her boss, brother-in-law, and friend, a bit away from the milling riders and event organizers, with a phone to his ear. She climbed over the fence and raced to his side, eager to point out her name in the number one position. He looked up, and the phone fell from his ear. Risa stumbled, her legs turning to jelly as she reached him.

His blue gaze met hers, pain and sorrow filling him whole.

Risa barely acknowledged the cowboy who handed over her bull rope from wherever it had slipped off in the competition ring. “What is it?” she asked, her heart now pounding heavy with dread, rather than excitement.

“It’s not good,” Caleb answered, all traces of familiar humor gone from his voice. “We need to get home.”

Risa didn’t even have to ask in order to make a decision. If Caleb said they needed to go, she listened.

“Tell me while we walk.” She took big strides in the direction of her stored gear. “We’ll leave right now.”

Her best score and event gone from her mind, Risa crumbled as Caleb shared the devastating news.

* * * *

Risa wandered the perimeter of Nate’s Bait and Saddle Shop, running her fingers lovingly over each shelf of product. As she moved to the beautifully crafted saddles, her heart constricted painfully and a new lump formed in her throat, reminding her of her recent loss.

She had lost Nate. Forever.

Nate Palmer had given Risa her first job and had ended up becoming such a father figure to her that she never completely left it. When it came time for inventory, she always lent a hand. If he needed a little extra help around the place on a weekend that she didn’t have a bull riding competition, she always came to Nate’s and picked up the slack.

She could hardly believe he had died. Nevertheless, he had. At the funeral a week ago, when they lowered his casket into the ground, her legs had finally buckled and she faced the truth. Nate was gone and he could never come back.

Tears filled Risa’s eyes. She swiped them away with a hard hand, knowing that Nate wouldn’t want her to cry over him. He had taken her under his wing seven years ago and had never once pulled that shelter away. Even now, in death, he still looked out for her.

She could not believe what he had done.

The little bell attached to a rope on the door jingled and Risa looked up to a hard, handsome face, one as achingly important to her as any in her life.

Duke Boone.

Dressed in jeans and a black flannel shirt, he almost looked strange to her, out of his usual sheriff’s uniform shirt and tan Stetson.

“I figured you’d be here.” Duke pushed the door closed, twisted the lock she had left undone, and moved into the shadowed store. For once, his gaze held only kindness, not the brittle amber chips of impatience he usually reserved for her. “It’s late, honey”--he used an endearment with her for the first time...”don’t you think you ought to head home?”

Duke’s gentle tone rattled Risa and her stomach flip-flopped. She turned away, her fingers clutched together against her middle, her mind and heart a jumble of too many heightened emotions. Coping with losing Nate to a heart attack ten days ago, to helping her mother put together a fitting funeral for him, to fending off intrusive conversation with well-meaning people, to, finally, sincerity from Duke when he had done nothing but deflect her attraction to him in the past... Everything suddenly became too much for Risa to handle.

“Please go away.” Her voice wavered and her shoulders heaved, but she couldn’t bring them under control. “Leave me alone.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” Duke moved in behind Risa and curled his big hands around her shoulders, spreading warmth down her arms and into her icy-cold hands. Leaning down, he spoke next to her ear. “I’ve seen that little front light on in this place every night this week. You keep coming here looking for answers where none exist. Nate was one hell of a character and he lived a full life. But at eighty-five years old, it was just his time to go. He had no regrets, and I think he loved the last years of his life the most.”

A bubble of laughter erupted and Risa’s shoulders shook.

“What?” Duke spun her around and held her at arms length. He stooped down his big six foot five frame, putting himself on eye level with her considerable five-ten. His gaze met hers, a smile tugging up the edge of his lip. “Why did you laugh?”

“Because of what you said about these being his happiest years.”

“So? It’s the truth. A while back I stopped by to check in on him and he had this, I don’t know, extra spring in his step. I asked him about it, but he would only say that he was loving life.”

Risa bit her lip, and Duke’s gaze narrowed.

“What now?” he asked. He fingered her heated cheek, and a shiver ran down her spine. “You’re blushing.”

“I can’t say.” Risa’s entire body flamed underneath her jeans and sweater. “I discovered it by accident myself.”

“All right. Fine.” Duke backed off, hands up. “Don’t tell me.”

Risa grabbed Duke’s hand before he could get away, afraid to lose this little connection. Duke looked down at their entwined fingers and then lifted his amber gaze to hers. Holding her eyes, he rubbed his thumb over her wrist. The little touch snaked all the way up her arm and into her heart.

“Nate and my mother...” Discomfort flooded Risa, choking her words. “They shared some ... intimacy, these last four years.”

An indulgent smile touched Duke’s lips. “Did you think nobody knew that?”

Risa scrunched her brow and tilted her head. “Nobody did know.”

“Honey, people knew. They just respected Nate and Jean’s desire for privacy. Maybe it had something to do with Nate’s age and the fact that your mother is in a wheelchair, I can’t really say for sure. Just be thankful the town chose not to put them through the gossip mill,”--Duke’s fingers tightened around Risa’s hand...”because you know how brutal that can be.”

They both did. Seven years ago, town talk had centered on Risa when the now deceased Justin MacLesten had kidnapped her, his bigotry against her brother’s homosexuality his justification for the crime. In addition, just last year, Risa’s best friend, Ren--Duke’s son--had been outed along with his partner, Cade, when a bad choice on Ren’s part had almost cost Cade his life.

Wiping her brow wearily, Risa leaned against a saddle display. “Nate left my mom every penny he had. You’ve heard that, right?”

Duke nodded.

“In the will, he told her not to save it, but to spend it traveling the world. They watched those travel channels a lot and I could always hear them saying they should book a trip to Greece or Italy. I think they both wanted to see Ireland too, and I’m pretty sure I heard them ‘oohing’ and ‘ahhing’ over an Alaskan cruise. They never got around to doing it together, but he has given her this great gift and told her to see all those places they talked about, and that it’ll be as if he’s there with her when she does.

“She’s going to do it too.” Risa lifted her gaze from the floor, connecting with Duke once again. Her heart pounded and her throat felt dry. “She feels as if it would honor him, and she has already looked into her first trip.”

“That’s good.” Duke nodded his dark head. “I’m happy for her. She’ll make a lot of new friends on her travels.”

“Yeah, she definitely will. I think that’s part of why Nate did it, you know? He wanted to open up a whole new set of people for her to connect with and create new friendships. That’s real love, don’t you think?” she asked. “What Nate gave to my mom.”

“I think it must be.” Duke rubbed Risa’s hand and held her gaze. “He loved you too, you know. That’s why he left you this store. You have a legacy now. A tie to this community that no one can ever take away.”

Love for Nate Palmer clogged Risa’s throat. “I know,” she said, her voice thick and raspy. Pressure built behind her eyes, forcing silent tears down her cheeks.

Risa tugged her hand from Duke’s and turned away, afraid to show any vulnerability around this man. He could cut her up so easily with just a few poorly thought words. With her heart scraped raw from trying to hold everything together this past week, she knew one false move from Duke would flay her wide open and bleed her dry.

His big hand slid around her waist, and a second later he pulled her back and tucked her against his wide chest.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he chanted softly next to her ear, rocking her in the circle of his arms. “Cry if you need to, baby. Get it all out.”

Risa had steeled herself to handle the wrong words from Duke. The right ones blindsided her and sucked the air out of her lungs.

Her legs buckled and she slumped forward, but Duke held her to him as he lowered them to the cold floor. She curled up into a little ball, sobbing, letting out every ounce of grief she hadn’t allowed herself to feel since the night she’d learned of Nate’s death. Duke blanketed her, protected her without words, sheltering her in his strong, capable embrace.

All around Risa the smell of leather permeated her senses and sank into her bones, a familiar scent she associated with Nate and his wonderful talent for crafting saddles. Through the darkness and the curtain of her hair, she saw cluttered shelves, something that, no matter how hard she tried to organize for him, Nate always seemed to let them slip back into disarray. She listened to the hum of the old-fashioned soda cooler behind the counter, full of RC colas that Nate would never finish.

Life often changed in the blink of an eye, Risa knew that very well. From a very young age, she had accepted that truth and learned to roll with the punches. For whatever reason, though, she’d never once considered losing Nate.

Her chest heaved as the first wave of wracking tears left her body, the tension leaving her muscles as her breathing slowly returned to normal. She wiped her face dry with the sleeve of her sweater, and an awareness of the intimacy of Duke’s embrace slowly returned to her brain.

“I’m all right now,” she whispered, unable to turn and look him in the eyes. “You can go if you want.”

“I’ll stay a little while longer.” Duke didn’t move or let up his hold. “You’ll wear yourself down if you don’t let go. Relax and use my arm as a pillow. Don’t worry about anything but resting your brain and your body, at least for a little while.”

Risa had no words. Maybe that was for the best. She and Duke usually ended up fighting when they talked. For once, Risa welcomed the silence. Within minutes, her eyelids dropped and she fell asleep.

* * * *

Stretching her long arms and legs, Risa groaned as her muscles protested the pull from sleep. She cracked one eye open, blinking against the sharp shaft of light that streamed in through the faded cream curtain on the window by the bed. She didn’t have cream-colored curtains--and more bizarre--her alarm clock hadn’t jarred her out of a deep sleep. Wait. She hadn’t fallen asleep at home last night.

She had fallen asleep in Duke’s arms.

Risa sat upright and looked around. More awake now, she recognized where she was. The little apartment of rooms over Nate’s store. Unused, they smelled of must and dust. They had furniture, though, and a functioning shower.

Risa threw her legs over the side of the bed, but a little paper propped up against a bell jar clock on the nightstand caught her attention. She picked it up with shaking fingers, recognizing Duke’s sharp, scrawling handwriting right away.

They don’t make ’em tougher than you. You’ll be all right. Talk to you soon.--Duke.

Risa’s hand flew to cover her mouth as her heart constricted painfully, a sensation that never seemed far away from her this last week and a half. She rubbed her fingertips over each word of the note, feeling the scrawl of the pen over paper. Committing the three sentences to memory, she folded the slip of paper and tucked it into her pocket. For the first time in ten days a smile pulled at the corner of her lips, and Risa knew exactly why.

There were days when she wondered why God had given her such a powerful desire for this one tough, unapproachable man. Then a moment like last night happened, followed by a little note such as this one, and she remembered why she had fallen so deeply in love with Duke Boone.