Mila

“No way.”

I put my hands on the rail and leaned over, staring hard at the face-painted rodeo clown as he climbed out of a safety barrel. At first, I didn’t believe it was really Chase.

Then he walked into the pool of radiance cast by a spotlight, and I could make out his features.

“Son of a gun, that is Chase. What’s he doing here?”

“He’s making a god damn fool out of himself, that’s what he’s doing.”

My gaze ...