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about?” he asked her quietly.
    At his tone, all the fight seemed to trickle out of her. She leaned her elbows on the rail and bowed her head. “I’ve made a mess of things.”
    “With the manager?” Ryder couldn’t stand seeing her upset. He rested his hand on the warm crown of her bowed head.
    She nodded. “He’s being a dick.”
    At that, Ridge and Ryder both stiffened. Nobody treated one of their own badly, especially their baby sister.
    “What the fuck’s he doing? Do I need to break his legs?” Ridge asked.
    “Good gawd, no,” she drawled. She straightened and held her head high. “I’ll handle it, okay?”
    Ryder latched onto her arm. “You sure?”
    She nodded. “I’m a big girl now. I can take care of it myself. He’s not a bad guy really, but he’s the jealous type.”
    Ah, that explained much. Wynonna was like a big, beautiful flower attracting every bee in the field. If the production manager was remotely jealous, he was messing with the wrong girl. Hell, he was anyway. Wynonna was off-limits and he was at least ten years older than she was.
    “I don’t like this,” Ryder said.
    “Me neither.” Ridge sounded pissed. His middle brother was normally very mild-tempered, but when his temper flared, watch out.
    “I got it, guys.” She held up both hands as if to ward them off.
    Ridge pointed a finger at her. “You’d better tell us if you don’t.”
    Suddenly, her eyes went wide and soft and she leaned over the rail to hug them both. She planted a wet, noisy kiss on each of their foreheads.
    “Ewww, girl spit.” Ryder rubbed at his skin.
    They watched her return to her horse. She wrapped her arms around its neck and the mare nudged her with her nose.
    “I think you’re right about her having a softer hand while racing. Rule number one of cowboying—or rodeoing—is treat your horse right and you can get the job done faster.” Ridge pushed away from the fence.
    They walked back toward the barn together. There was always work to be done on the ranch, but Ryder had a feeling it wouldn’t keep his mind off the mention of Thunder’s offer.
    Ridge seemed to be channeling his thoughts. “What do you think of going big-time with bull riding?”
    Ryder shot him a look out of the corner of his eye. “I don’t think it’s for me. You trying to boot me out of the Calhoun circle?”
    As he lifted his boot, Ridge hooked his own under it and tripped Ryder. After a few stumbling steps, he righted himself. Reaching out, he whacked Ridge’s hat off his head. It tumbled into the dust.
    “If you’re out of the circle, that means more ladies for me,” Ridge quipped.
    All of a sudden Ryder was back in that chute with Joy in his arms. It was as if she’d known how crazy her perfume made him when she’d bought it. And how he was a sucker for those little squeaking noises she made while he kissed her.
    He clenched his hands into fists. The barn was ten steps away, but he veered off from Ridge and made his way to the house. He needed a cool drink if he was going to make it through a hot afternoon of working with Joy on the brain.
    “Hey, you tapping out?” Ridge called.
    Ryder raised a hand in farewell and mounted the porch steps. Shade greeted him, and he wanted to sink down into one of the chairs and sit this round out. The increasing need for a spell of peace and quiet gripped him.
    As he pushed through the screen door, the hinges gave their pleasant squeal. He picked his way through the mudroom, which had been clean for all of a week after the film crew had shown up. Now it had various other footwear left by production people. Ma had resigned herself to a messy entryway and focused on other things, like bigger meals and fluffier country biscuits.
    “Ryder, you just missed a phone call. If I’d known you were headed into the house, I would have told him to hold on.” Ma came out of the kitchen drying her hands on a dishtowel.
    His eyebrows shot up on their own. “Who’s calling me?