Excerpt of Rodeo Daughter by Leigh Duncan

"Great show, Amanda," beamed the auctioneer. "You must'a made an impression on Mitchell Goodwin." He pointed to the dark–haired man who strode toward them from the cashier's booth.

Mitch? Now, that was a name she hadn't expected. Memories rose like smoke from the campfire she and Mitch had once cuddled beside. They'd gazed at the stars and talked for hours, and ended up falling in love.

Frowning at her exaggerated version of puppy love, Amanda swallowed a wave of nostalgia. At sixteen, Mitch had been all knobby knees and gawky elbows. Tonight, there was nothing awkward about the man whose long strides brought him ever closer. Laugh lines around his mouth enhanced his broad smile. Her own lips curving upward, she followed a straight nose above high cheekbones. Her breath hitched when his eyes met hers. His were so deep that, for a moment, she let herself get lost in their azure depths the way she had one summer night as they stood in line for the Ferris wheel. How had she ever forgotten eyes such a vibrant blue? Or the way his quick smile had once thrilled her heart? She'd kept a diary that summer, each page crammed with inky script, their initials entwined along its edges.