Page 13 of Dust Storm

“Kill it!” she shrieked.

I just shook my head, stifling a chuckle. “I’m not gonna kill it. Can’t blame a snake for acting like a snake.”

“That’s it. I’m done. I quit.” And with that, she stomped out the door.

I followed her and released the snake into a bush.

Tires crunched over the smattering of pebbles that made the dirt drive a little less dirt-like.

“Where are you going?!” Cassandra shouted.

Tripp, sitting behind the wheel in shit-covered pants, barely lifted a hand to wave. “Back to the airport. I caught an earlier flight. Gotta work.”

Her face turned beet red. “Tripp!”

“I’ll check in next week,” he called as he rolled up the window.

“Tripp!” The pitch and rasp of her scream probably tore her vocal cords.

I had a backhoe that could dig a Tripp-sized hole in the blink of an eye, and I was more than tempted to use it.

What a dick.

I sided up to Cassandra as I pulled my gloves off and shoved them back in my pocket. “Did he really just leave you like that?”

Her ring finger twitched, but her face didn’t flinch. I knew that face. A woman on the verge of eruption.

Bree was starting to practice that look, and it scared the shit out of me.

I pointed to the ground. “If it makes you feel any better, he stepped in a fire ant colony before he hopped back in the car. That’s some long-term karma. They’ll be up his britches and in his drawers before he makes it to the front gate.” I pulled the radio off my hip, changed the channel, and lifted it to my mouth. “Becks?”

No answer.

I pressed the button again. “Becks, you there?”

Still nothing.

Why was everything my problem?

I looked down at those fuck-me heels she was in. I couldn’t rightly make her walk back in them.

“I’ll come back for your bags,” I said as I untied Libby and led her over.

Cassandra squeaked and stumbled backward.

“This is Liberty. We call her Libby.”

“Let me guess,” Cassandra said, using sarcasm as her first line of defense. “She’s sweet like the cow who should be charged with breaking and entering, and the snake who should get the death penalty for assault.”

Her sass was fun.

I cracked a grin. “Trust me, Libby’s a sweetheart. She doesn’t spook easily.”

Cassandra didn’t look convinced.

I stood behind her and reached in my pocket. “Hold out your hand.”

She tried to take another step back to escape, but bumped into my chest. I picked up her wrist, turned her palm up, and dropped a peppermint into her hand.

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