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tipped his hat to the crowd. They roared their approval. Cassie leapt to her feet and joined in, screaming until her voice grated raw in her throat.
    Lindsay leaned close to make herself heard over the cheering of the crowd. “He makes it look easy, doesn’t he?”
    “I had no idea he was so good,” Cassie admitted.
    “Jess Logan? He’s one of the best!”
    The noise faded as the audience settled down for the next ride. Cassie stared at her new friend.
    “You know Jess?”
    “I don’t actually know him, but I know all about him. Everyone does.” Her voice softened with awe and reverence. “He’s a world champion bull rider twice over, and one year he won all-around cowboy, too.”
    “No kidding.” Cassie would have pumped the girl for more information, but she couldn’t think of a subtle way to do it. Fortunately, Lindsay didn’t need any urging.
    “Nice guy, or so I’ve heard, but kind of a classic loner type. He was married once, though.”
    “Really?” Cassie struggled to keep her tone calm and disinterested. “What happened?”
    “Oh, well, it only lasted a month or two. I guess Jess wasn’t ready to commit. Cowboys are like that, you know. They need their freedom. The open road, a girlfriend in every town. . . .”
    Cassie slanted a sympathetic smile Lindsay’s way. “Let me guess. A cowboy broke your heart?”
    The girl’s blue eyes widened. “How did you know?”
    “Oh, just a hunch.” Cassie patted Lindsay’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll find someone else, and then you’ll forget all about the cowboy.”
    The girl shook her head mournfully. “I’ll never forget him. Never. Have you ever been in love? I mean, really and truly in love?”
    Cassie wrinkled her brow as she gave the question serious thought. There was Stevie
    Tate, back in the fifth grade, with his pale blond hair and the best Matchbox car collection in the whole school. But she’d fallen out of love with him the day he called her “Fatty Carlisle” and made a cruel remark about her mother.
    Though Cassie had since parted ways with most of her baby fat, her love life hadn’t improved. Oh, sure, she’d had a few dates since she moved to California. None as ghastly as last night’s, of course, but nothing to brag about, either. Mostly, though, she’d kept busy with school and her precarious freelance career. Love always seemed like a luxury she couldn’t afford, something to think about after she proved herself.
    “Well? Have you been in love?”
    Slowly, Cassie shook her head. “No, I guess not.”
    “So you can’t understand what it’s like. And Jake, he’s, well, he’s just the sweetest, cutest guy, and--”
    The announcer’s voice cut into Lindsay’s gushing recitation of her boyfriend’s virtues. The girl cocked her head to listen. “Did you hear that? An 86 for Jess Logan.”
    “Is that a good score?”
    “Yeah, great. He’ll probably win the purse, unless somebody else gets real lucky. So, do you and Jess. . .are you, you know. . .?”
    “Oh, no,” Cassie said quickly. “We’re just friends. Actually, I hardly know him.” But she couldn’t deny the crackle of electricity when they touched, or her curiosity about the stranger who had treated her with so much kindness. Who was Jess, anyway? What made him tick?
    She might have asked Lindsay another question or two, but just then the next bronc exploded from the chute. Cassie’s hands suddenly itched for her 35-millimeter Nikon with its zoom lens. The bright, hard edges of the light, the grimace on the cowboy’s face, the dust puffing out from under the horse’s hooves--beautiful, all of it. She ached to capture the excitement and drama of the rodeo on film. Instead, her pulse raced as she took photo after mental photo.
    Cassie had adored photography since the moment a kind foster father first put a camera in her hands. She loved everything about it. Choosing the settings. Framing the picture. Clicking the shutter. Watching