The Bull Rider's Homecoming. Jeannie Watt

see Shelly Hensley wallop the guy who’d tried to intercede on her behalf. Typical Shelly move. As the deputy turned her around to cuff her she loudly cursed him out.

      “I think it’s safe now,” Danielle said.

      Annie nodded and they started across the lot. The deputy looked over his shoulder at them as they approached, and she saw that it was Cullen McCoy, whom she’d gone to school with. “We saw the whole thing,” Annie called as she and Danielle stopped a safe distance away.

      Shelly glowered at her in a way that made Annie glad they’d waited until the cuffs were on. “They did not.”

      Cullen gave his head a tired shake, giving Annie the impression that it wasn’t the first time he’d dealt with Shelly. Another cruiser pulled into the lot and after a brief conference with the female deputy who stepped out of the car, Cullen jerked his head toward the street. “I’ll talk to you one at a time. You first.” He pointed at Danielle, who followed him a few yards away.

      Annie stayed put, shifting her weight and thinking that this was the most excitement she’d had since the girls let the snake loose in the house. The female deputy put her hand under the still-handcuffed rescuer’s arm and when she helped him to his feet, a sound of pain escaped his lips.

      Annie’s mouth fell open, then she snapped it shut again. The guy who’d gotten creamed trying to help Shelly was Trace Delaney.

      * * *

      TRACE GLANCED PAST the female deputy to see who else was witness to his humiliation then swallowed a groan. A leggy blonde woman and...Annie Owen.

      Excellent.

      Shaking his head, he looked down at his boots, tightening his jaw against the pain shooting through his shoulder. To his left the woman he’d tried to help was spewing venom, and to his right the deputy who’d cuffed him was talking to the blonde. He had no idea where Black Hat was, but his hat still lay in the gravel close to where they’d fought.

      He sensed Annie moving, cast another quick look and saw that it was her turn with the deputy. When she’d finished, the deputy came toward him.

      “I’m going to ask you to take a breathalyzer test,” he said after checking Trace’s identification.

      Trace nodded. He was more than willing to take the test—not that he had much choice in the matter. They’d draw blood if he refused. He blew into the tube and a moment later the deputy unlocked the cuffs.

      “Hey! What about Danny?” Silver Pants shrieked before the female deputy took her by the arm and hauled her a distance away.

      “Do you know these two?”

      “No.” And he knew better than to give more information than was asked for.

      “What happened?”

      “I was on my way to my truck and these two were dusting it up. The guy laid hands on the woman and I told him to stop.”

      “Did you threaten either of them?”

      “No. I just told him to leave her alone.”

      “According to the witnesses,” the deputy said to Trace, “the female suspect struck you without provocation and then the male suspect—” he glanced down at his notes “—took a swing and from that point on you were acting in self-defense.”

      “The guy in the black hat pushed her against the truck and she struck her head on the side mirror. She didn’t appear to be hurt, so I thought I’d distract him so she could leave.” His jaw tightened. “She chose not to go.”

      The deputy gave a weary nod. “I’ll be dealing with both of them. Her for battery on you. Him for battery against both of you. Do you want to press charges?”

      Trace shook his head. He just wanted to forget the evening, and he really wanted Annie to leave.

      “Then you need to head on home.” The deputy gave him a long, hard look. “Are you okay to drive?”

      “I only had one beer.”

      “I’m talking about your injury. Maybe you should go to the ER. Get checked out.”

      “It’s an old injury. He didn’t do it.”

      “He didn’t do it any good, either,” the deputy said, shaking his head again.

      “I’ll take him home.”

      They both turned to see Annie standing a few feet away. Trace’s chin jerked up. Yeah, as if he’d let her. He’d had his quota of embarrassment tonight.

      “He got his head pounded against the ground at one point,” she told the deputy. “Pretty hard.”

      That’d happened early on. She’d seen the whole thing.

      “I’m fine.”

      Annie merely raised her eyebrows at the deputy, who then nodded. “Yeah. Take him home. Thanks, Annie.”

      Thanks, Annie. Trace’s mouth tightened, but there was no good to be had from arguing with the law, so he started for his truck.

      “My car is over here,” Annie called.

      “Her car is over there,” the deputy echoed. Trace reversed course and by the time he got to Annie, she’d finished saying a few words to her friend and pulled the keys out of her pocket.

      “It won’t kill you to accept a ride home,” she murmured. “I’ll help you get your truck in the morning.”

      And the only thing that kept him from arguing was the fact that, yeah, he was starting to feel a little light-headed. He knew that feeling. Knew it well, actually. It happened when he got clocked too hard in the arena. It’d pass, but maybe he should be grateful instead of all surly. So after he scrunched himself into the front seat of Annie’s car, he said, “Thank you.”

      She snorted a little and started the engine. “Right.”

      “No. Really.”

      She shot him a look then shook her head.

      “What?”

      He saw a corner of her mouth tighten. “No wonder Grady asked me to keep an eye on you. You’re here less than a week and you’ve already tangled with Shelly Hensley.”

      “What a minute.” Maybe he’d been clocked harder than he thought. “Why would you need to keep an eye on me? Grady asked me to keep an eye on you.”

      “Whatever.” She slowed to a stop at an intersection then continued on out of town.

      Trace fell silent, irritated, his shoulder throbbing. They rode for several miles and it wasn’t until they got close to his place that Annie said, “Hey,” in a somewhat grudging voice.

      He glanced at her, frowning.

      “He didn’t tell me to keep an eye on you. He said you might need a contact in the community. You did. It all worked out. And I know that he asked you to keep an eye on me. He told me.”

      Trace nodded instead of answering.

      Annie pulled into his driveway and then stopped next to the front walk. “Is everything really okay?”

      “I just got beat up by a douche bag. What do you think?”

      Her expression softened an iota. “If you need anything, will you call?”

      “Like what, Annie?” It was the first time he’d said her name out loud and it sounded oddly intimate. She seemed to think so, too, because those blue eyes widened then narrowed.

      “I don’t know what your needs are,” she said calmly.

      He did and he was beginning to feel a need directed toward her, despite the humiliation of the evening. He had to get out of there. He reached for the door handle. “I’ll figure out a way to get my truck.”

      “Or