Katrina waved a dismissive hand. “I had one of my pointe shoes give out, and I twisted my ankle.”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I’d rather you didn’t tell anyone.”

“They’ll want to know you’re hurt,” Mandy insisted. “They’ll want to help.”

“There’s nothing they can do. I just need some rest, to let it heal.”

“It was your shoe? Does this kind of thing happen often?”

“Hardly ever. Thank goodness.” Katrina was having an unlucky streak, and she was going to get past it. Her ankle would heal. She should never have admitted out loud that she was worried. She wasn’t. Not really.

She drew a bracing breath. “Mandy, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say anything. I don’t know what I was thinking-”

“I’m not the least bit sorry.” Mandy tugged firmly on her sister’s hands. “I want to know you, Katrina. No matter what’s going on inside that crazy head of yours, we all do love you.”

“I’m not crazy.” Just because she didn’t like ranching, didn’t make her insane.

“Bad choice of words.”

Suddenly, Katrina felt dead-tired. She didn’t want to have this debate. It was bad enough that Quentin was out to get her and that her career might be hanging in the balance; she didn’t need to add her childhood baggage to the mix.

“Do you think someone could drive me back to our place?” She’d make an excuse to catch a flight in the morning.

Mandy gave her head a vigorous shake. “Not a chance. Now that we’ve broken the ice, we are going to talk, young lady.” She tucked Katrina’s hand into the crook of her arm and began walking again.

Katrina scoffed out an exclamation of disbelief. “I don’t think so.” It was a momentary lapse, not the breaking of an emotional dam ten years in the making.

“So, what happened with Reed?” Mandy repeated.

“Nothing.”

“I think he likes you.”

“I think he hates me.”

“Yeah? Well, you’re afraid of chickens, so I’m not much for trusting your judgment.”