Page 13 of The Cowboy's Magic Touch

“Who is he, Annie?”

“Geoff Palmer, my manager. It’s such a long story I—”

“Hold on—I think I heard a car and Bella’s barkin’,” he said urgently, hastily pulling on his clothes. “Wait here.”

Marching back through the barn, he stopped behind one of the double doors and peek outside. A stretch limousine and a black sedan were rolling to a stop outside his house. There was a private airfield about an hour away, and he assumed that’s where they’d come from. Quickly opening his gun cabinet, he pulled out one of his rifles and marched out to meet them.

“This is private property,” he shouted as four men stepped out of the sedan. “There’s a sign on the gate. You had no right openin’ it and drivin’ up here.”

“Take it easy, fella,” one of them shouted as Bella ran to Brody furiously barking.

“I won’t be takin’ anything easy and neither will my dog. We don’t appreciate uninvited visitors. State your business then leave.”

They didn’t respond, but they didn’t move any closer either. For a moment he thought they might get back into the sedan, but the limousine driver climbed out and opened the door for his passenger.

“Hey, there,” the man said, slowly walking forward. “No need for guns.”

“Stop right there! I’ll decide what’s needed,” Brody snapped, wanting to punch him square between the eyes. Wearing a denim suit, white shirt, and a stiff, white, spotless stetson, the man looked like an ugly Ken doll a kid had dressed up.

“I take it you’re Brody King.”

“Who’s askin’?”

“What if I said I was here to buy a horse.”

“I’d say I don’t have any for sale,” Brody snapped. “Now you can leave.”

“Why are you so upset?”

“Why did you open a gate with a big black and white sign that says no trespassin’, then drive in here with a small army? Who are you?”

“Geoffrey Palmer. I manage some of Nashville’s top recording artists.”

“I don’t give a crap and I have no idea why you’re on my property. You can just manage your way outta here, and I mean now. I have work to do.”

“I’m looking for Annie Baker. You were her boyfriend. I thought she might be here. Haven’t you heard? She’s missing.”

“That was years ago, and how can a star like Annie Baker be missin’?”

“You haven’t seen her?”

“Hell, no.”

“Mind if we look around?”

“Hell, yeah, I mind,” Brody exclaimed, raising his rifle. “You’re trespassin’. Here in Texas I’m not allowed to kill you, but I can sure shoot you in the foot. I’ve asked you to leave twice. If there’s a third time—”

“Okay, okay, but why are you so angry.”

“I’m a busy man and I don’t like strangers comin’ on my land. I don’t give a rats ass who you are, and if Annie shows up here I’ll hear what she has to say, then let the sheriff know, but only if that’s okay with her.”

“Sorry, not good enough,” Geoffrey sneered, then pointed at the barn. “Look in there,” he ordered, gesturing to the four men behind him. “Go ahead, Brody, shoot them. Then I can have you arrested and you’ll be stuck behind bars.”

As the men jogged past him, Brody snatched his phone from his pocket and called the sheriff

“You need to get here now,” he exclaimed urgently as he ran after them with Bella at his side. “Two cars came rollin’ in here and now four men are goin’ into my barn. Sheriff, I think they might be armed.

“I’m next door at Hank’s place. I’ll be right there.”

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