Rodeo Daughter. Leigh Duncan

his motor home, a familiar sinking feeling had formed in the pit of her stomach. Acid had burned the back of her throat when she’d spied a horse standing in the hitched-up trailer.

      “Okeechobee lost their opening act and I took the job, baby girl. You know how it is. I have to take advantage of every opportunity.” Tom speared her with a calculating glance. “If you’d give up this foolish notion and join the team again, I wouldn’t have these problems.”

      There it was. Eight years, and her dad still hadn’t forgiven her for walking away from the Markette Ropin’ Team. Well, he wasn’t the only one who bore a grudge. She held up a hand.

      “You’re the one backing out of our deal. Don’t even try to lay this on me.”

      She eyed the man who should be standing with his hat in his hand, gratitude showing in his lined face for the easy paycheck he would earn putting on a roping-and-riding exhibition at the charity fundraiser. Hoping to impress him with the clout she wielded as the newest member of the bar association, she’d given him the job. But her father didn’t appear grateful, much less impressed. If anything, he looked as if he couldn’t wait to hit the road. And if he cared one whit about the predicament his leaving would put her in, it didn’t show in the jaunty angle of the Stetson he’d perched on his head.

      “By the time the show starts, three thousand people will be sitting right up there. Waiting for you, Dad.” Amanda gestured toward the grandstand, which would be filled to capacity in less than a week. “How can you let them down?”

      She didn’t bother to ask how he could let her down. The fact was, neither of her folks had ever won a Parent of the Year award or shown any interest in her outside the rodeo ring. Their neglect had shaped her decision to specialize in family law, where her focus was always on the best interests of the child.

      “Guess they’ll have to settle for someone else.” Tom Markette pushed himself away from his truck and reached out as if to hug her goodbye.

      Amanda crossed her arms. “What, you think rodeo stars are hiding behind every palmetto bush? Or waiting in the barn till I call their number? No such luck.”

      And where did that leave her?

      She was in charge of entertainment for this year’s stampede. Come Saturday night, an empty arena was not an option. Not with her practice in its infancy and her reputation at stake. Not with every paralegal, attorney and judge in the county expecting the thrill and excitement of the best that rodeo had to offer. Not with at-risk kids up and down the east coast of Florida dependent on the money the event would raise.

      “Ahh, Mandy. You always did worry too much. Royce and the rest of the crew’ll still be here, won’t they?”

      They’d do some pole-bending rides, give a calf-roping demonstration. She’d lined up a live band and a country dance. All of which were small potatoes compared to the best roping-and-riding exhibition in the business. He was the headliner and the reason they’d sold so many advance tickets.

      “Dad,” she said pointedly, “you signed a contract. You’re legally obligated to be here.”

      “Yeah, well, so sue me, baby girl. I won’t be.” He laughed easily, his smile so charming Amanda caught herself wanting to please him, to persuade him to stay, to be proud of her.

      Old news.

      She stifled a groan. He had her over a barrel and he knew it. She’d no more sue her own father for breach of contract than she’d pick up the reins of the life she’d left behind. The only surprise was that, this time, she’d actually expected him to keep his word. She’d never forgive him for breaking it…again.

      Her father tipped his hat back and gazed at her thoughtfully.

      “All right, here’s the deal. I already unloaded Brindle. Left him in a stall right over there.” He thrust a thumb over his shoulder toward the Boots and Spurs stables. “I’ll leave him with you through the weekend. I’ll even swing by to pick him up on Sunday.” Her dad made it sound as if he was doing her a huge favor. “You can take my place, ride him in the show.”

      Amanda stared from behind dark sunglasses. Was he crazy? Sure, she’d helped him design the roping and riding act he’d performed ever since injuries forced him out of the chase for the next big purse, the next gold buckle. But she’d put herself through college and law school since then.

      “Dad, I haven’t been riding. Not in months. I’ve been too busy getting the practice off the ground. I have clients who are counting on me.”

      Including one who had hired her that very morning. The custody battle between an admittedly prodigal mom and the father who’d had sole custody of their four-year-old deserved Amanda’s full attention. She needed to dig into the heart of the case, figure out why no other family law attorney in town would touch it. She sensed this one could be a game changer, that success would give her prominence on the highly competitive playing field.

      Her father clapped his hands, eager to hit the road. Heading for the truck’s cab, he spoke as if he hadn’t listened to a word she’d said.

      Which, Amanda realized, he hadn’t.

      “You’ll be fine. I haven’t changed the routine since the last time you saw it.” He winked at her and slid onto the driver’s seat. “Brindle knows it so well, all you’ll have to do is hold on and let him do his thing. And who knows? Maybe you’ll enjoy it so much, you’ll chuck this life and come with me next time.”

      The big diesel engine sprang to life. The camper and trailer it towed lurched forward. Amanda’s protests sputtered to a halt as the dust clouds settled in its wake.

      With less than a week before the mini rodeo that was really more an exhibition than a competition, it was too late to find a replacement. She was stuck with the job. It wasn’t as if she’d never been on a horse before. She had. She even had her own gold buckle to show for the years of sacrifice and training, years she’d spent trying to earn her father’s love.

      “Don’t go there,” she whispered.

      There were other places she needed to be, though, things she needed to do. She made a list and started checking off the items one by one on her way to the stables. Knowing the first order of business was to clear her calendar, she tugged her cell phone from her back pocket and left a message for her secretary.

      The familiar scents of hay and horseflesh filled her nose as Amanda stepped from bright sunshine and stifling heat into the relative cool of the stables. From the third stall down on the left, a horse nickered. A large pale head leaned out over the door. Amanda ran a hand over the horse’s neck and felt the palomino quiver.

      “Hey, big guy,” she whispered to her dad’s second-best mount. “It’s been a while. You remember me?”

      The horse snorted and nudged her shoulder, looking for a treat.

      “That’s a good boy,” Amanda said. She might have put the rodeo scene behind her, but some things never changed. She pulled the expected handful of carrots from her pocket.

      Blowing soft wet kisses, Brindle lipped them from her open palm.

      “You ready for a little run?” she asked the horse.

      Spangles glinted from the saddle her dad had tossed over one wall of the chest-high pen. A pile of blankets, bridles and other tack sat beneath it. Amanda straightened the fringe on a costume of soft caramel buckskin she hadn’t seen in years. She shook her head. Her father had thought of everything, eliminated every reason why she couldn’t take his place.

      Well, except that maybe she was so out of practice she’d have trouble sitting in the saddle, much less standing on top of it while Brindle thundered across the arena. She gave a final thought to the case that had landed in her lap earlier that morning, and sighed. There was a ton of work to do in the two weeks before she and her client made their first courtroom appearance.

      But all that would have to wait until Sunday morning, when the performance she’d