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this year,” he growled.

      Neither Shane nor Elle reacted to that in the least. What was he? Invisible or something?

      “You’ll have to get your start somewhere else,” she said. “These bulls on the circuit are way too bad for a beginner, plus the stock contractor won’t let you near them anyway. Go to a bull-riding school. There’re lots of good ones.”

      Oh, great. Thanks, Elle, that’s all the advice we need.

      “I know that,” Shane said, “but I don’t know if I can get the money.”

      “Save it up,” she said. “Get a job.”

      Chase set his jaw. “Next summer,” he said. “Elle, Shane’s still in high school.”

      Shane shot him an angry look as if he’d blown his cover. As if she couldn’t tell that he was wet behind the ears.

      Chase walked into the room behind them, suddenly realizing he was carrying Shane’s stuff all over the hotel as if he worked there. But he certainly couldn’t have gotten off when they passed up their floor. And now he might as well be the bellboy he was imitating for all the attention they paid him.

      Another dog, an Australian shepherd, got off the love seat and came to meet them. “Aussie,” Elle said. “Hi, there, boy. I got some new food. You can try it, too.”

      Aussie accepted her pat on the head, and while he only sniffed at Shane, he made it clear he wasn’t all too sure about Chase. He even gave a little growl, deep in his throat.

      Great. Wonderful. Now he’d probably get dog bit, if the afternoon continued in the same lucky vein that it’d started. All he’d wanted was a good dinner with Elle and more time to get to know her, and to hold her again…then some sleep and a clear mind to focus on tomorrow’s rides. Instead, here he was in the middle of a damn soap opera.

      “Looks like Missy Jo’s been here and gone again,” Elle said, glancing from the dog to the fast-food sack sitting on top of the microwave.

      She smiled at Shane. The way she’d smiled at Chase himself not too many hours ago. Was she this bent out of shape because he’d been impatient with Shane? A real smile from Elle was something that sparkled.

      But all her attention now was on the dog and the boy.

      “Okay,” she said. “Let’s get Kodiak out and move him to his bed there by the window. I’ll get his bowl and try him on this food again. With a little hot milk over it, he’ll surely slurp it up. I just thought of that. Milk’ll be better than water.”

      “Sorry,” Chase said, and it came out through his teeth although he was trying to unclench his jaw, “Shane’s gotta get going.”

      Shane barely glanced at him. “This won’t take long, Dad.”

      “I’d really appreciate the help,” Elle said, flashing her smile at him this time.

      He knew she was just trying to soften him up, but he wanted to see it again. Hell. He had to get control of himself. He had to get control of this deal.

      Shane and Elle gently transferred the dog from the carrier to the fleecy dog bed. Shane squatted on his haunches to pet the animal while she went to the small refrigerator to get the milk.

      Ignoring Chase while he stood there like a fencepost with a bag in each hand. But he’d be damned if he’d set them down. Shane was not staying here for long.

      Shane looked at him then, as if he could read his mind. “Let’s see if he’ll eat this, Dad,” he said, in such a calm, reasonable way that he sounded like the parent.

      Elle glanced back over her shoulder at Chase and nodded her thanks as if she knew they’d both stay and help her.

      “He’s driving me crazy refusing to eat,” she said. “I know he’s starving. It’s like he’s afraid to eat, or something. The veterinarian who saw him today said he might still be in shock from getting hit.”

      Chase just looked at her, his hands gripping the handles of the bags until his knuckles ached. He’d give anything to get out of here—he wanted to get away from her right now. On the other hand, he wanted her. How could he want both so much at the same time?

      She was trying to open the dog food sack while the milk heated in the microwave, arms lifted, high, firm breasts outlined against the light. They were the perfect size to fill his hand…the skin on them had felt like silky satin….

      “Chase,” she said, “do you have your knife on you? This must be super-glue on triple-thick paper.”

      Busywork. Something to make him feel included. Treating him like a pouting little kid. More anger slashed him.

      But he couldn’t lose his gallantry. Especially not in front of Shane.

      He set the bags down and went to help her.

      Shane was down on the floor on his stomach now, looking into the dog’s eyes, murmuring to it and stroking its head. Well, maybe all this nonsense would be worth the time it took. Fifteen minutes ago the kid had been mad as hell and hurting and all strung out. Maybe this would change his mood so that he’d listen to Chase and go home to his mother without much argument.

      Yeah, right.

      Chase took out his knife, slit open the dog food sack, and poured some into the bowl while Elle took the heated milk out of the microwave. She was so close he could smell her scent, which sent an ache running through him that made him want to cry. She smiled at him again as she took the bowl from him and added the milk.

      Out of here. As soon as the dog ate or didn’t eat, he and Shane were out of here.

      Elle took the food to the dog and set it in front of him, and then she and Shane conferred as quietly as if they were doctors with a seriously ill patient. Was this ridiculous or what? How in the hell had this happened?

      It was pitiful, though. He felt sorry for her, she was so crazy about the dog. She squatted down, dipped her finger in the milk and offered it to the dog, then Shane did the same, but the ungrateful mutt didn’t so much as lift his head to sniff at them. Instead, he looked at them with pathetic eyes.

      “I’m going to put a drop of it on his tongue,” Elle said.

      But the dog locked his jaws shut and she had no luck with that. She stood up, walked over to a chair and dropped into it as if she’d been hit in the gut, staring hopelessly at the dog. Chase caught a glint of tears and felt that old treacherous urge of a man who saw a woman in tears: he had to do something, anything, to fix the problem.

      “You can’t force it down him,” he said, his voice coming out flatter than he’d intended. “Elle, he’s a stray dog you found on the highway.”

      She swallowed hard and stared out the window into the empty blue of the Nevada sky.

      “I’ll get away from him,” Shane said, standing up and walking away. “Don’t anybody look at him. Give him some privacy and maybe he’ll eat.”

      But that didn’t work, either. The dog never moved.

      Shane grabbed the fast-food sack from the top of the microwave and looked inside it. Without a word, he returned to the dog, squatted down beside him, took out the remains of a hamburger, opened the wrapper, and laid it down.

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