He hadn’t hinted at the exchange since. But she’d brought along another change of clothing for later. And she fully intended to dress her best so that maybe he’d take notice. Maybe he’d even dance with her. Something he’d never done either, though she’d sure tried over the years to get him to ask.

She shook off the thought. She had to stay focused for now, remember who she was, and play the part of Buster Bliss to perfection. Her future depended on it.

The air got lost in Jericho’s lungs as he watched Ivy dismount at a run from the mare. She was beside the downed steer in an instant, had the rope knotted around one of its front legs, and was completing the three-legged cross tie before the steer knew what was happening.

As she hopped up and raised her hands, the crowd erupted into cheers.

Jericho allowed himself the first breath since she’d started the chase. She was good. No. She was better than good. She was the best roper for miles around. Too bad she couldn’t compete as herself. She deserved it the same way she deserved a fair shot at Steele’s land.

“You’re takin’ a heap of interest in that little fella.” Mack Custer leaned on the rail beside Jericho. The sour body odor of Elkhorn Ranch’s foreman should have warned Jericho of his approach—if he hadn’t been so focused on Ivy.

“He’s a decent kid.” Jericho rapidly composed himself, hiding his emotions away where they should have been all along.

“Said he ain’t Roman-style ridin’ today.” Custer’s eyes narrowed on Ivy. “Said he’s heading home soon as he’s done with the ropin’.”

Thank the Lord Ivy was following through on her promise not to compete in the dangerous race. If she’d entered, he would have slung her over his shoulder and carried her off. No doubt she would have been kicking and screaming the whole time.

“You wanna ride?” Custer’s question was casual, but Jericho could sense the anticipation in each of the three words. “You were the best. Reckon you still are.”

Jericho shouldn’t even consider it. But something inside longed for the thrill of competing. It was the same craving that grew inside him every time he closed in on his prey.

“No, I really shouldn’t—”

“Can tell you’re itchin’ to do it.” Custer scratched his protruding abdomen with both hands.

Jericho had already told Ivy not to ride because it was too dangerous. Besides, he’d only be putting himself at risk, something he wasn’t willing to do when he needed to keep his wits about him.

“Or maybe you’ve changed too much.” Custer eyed him with suspicion.

Jericho met the man’s gaze and tried to read what was left unsaid. Was he wondering why Jericho was really back?