Page 5 of A Forever Kind of Rancher

He stood at the door, stopped dead in his tracks by what he saw. A black pickup truck seemed to be the source of the sound, the headlights on, casting a feminine figure into sharp relief. A slender silhouette with a blond halo all lit up by the lights. She was wearing a short, floaty-looking dress, and she was holding a baseball bat. Then she picked up the bat and swung it, and made the headlights go out, casting everything into darkness like a curtain had fallen over the star of this particular show.

“What the fuck?” It was Daniel, behind Boone, who shouted that. “That’s my truck,” he said.

“And I’m your wife,” came the shouted replied, as the bat went swinging again, and dented the truck right in the hood. “I got you the deal that got you gifted this truck, by the way, so I think it’s fair enough for me to vandalize my own property.”

Wendy.

Somehow, he’d known it was Wendy. Or at least, his body had.

An avenging angel, looking beautiful and dangerous, and hell...he’d never wanted her more.

Daniel pushed past him, his jar of whiskey still in his hand. “You’re being a fucking psycho,” he said. “What the hell?”

Wendy advanced on him, her chin jutted out, fury radiating from her. “Tell me you weren’t in there with another woman.”

Daniel backed up, his face going bland. “I wasn’t with another woman.”

“I got the most interesting series of pictures texted to me today, Daniel. And it’s definitely you, because I’m intimately familiar with your shortcomings.”

“What the hell does—”

“Pictures. Of you. Screwing someone else.”

“I never...”

“Save it. What’s the point faking it? You don’t have a reputation big enough to try and save it. Like I said. I know every detail of you just a little too well for you to try to tell me it’s Photoshop.”

And then Wendy stormed right up to Daniel, pulled her rings off and dropped them in his glass of whiskey. “Keep them.”

“Baby,” Daniel said, reaching out and wrapping his hand around her arm, and that was when Boone lost it.

He was right between them before he even realized he’d moved. “Get your hands off her.”

“Boone?” Daniel asked, looking at him like he’d grown another head.

“I said,” said Boone, reaching out and putting his hand around his friend’s throat. “Get your fucking hands off her.”

“She’s my wife.”

“And you put one hand on her while you’re angry and I’ll make her your widow. Step back.”

“You should be defending me,” Daniel said, as he moved away from Wendy. “You know I’d never—”

Boone growled. He couldn’t help it. And it shut Daniel up good.

Wendy looked high on adrenaline, her eyes overly bright. And Boone wanted to grab her and shield her from all of this. From the onlookers, from everything. From the truth of the fact that Daniel just wasn’t the man that he should have been for her.

Like you are?

No. But he hadn’t made vows to her. And if he had, he would never have...

“I can’t defend you if there’s nothing to defend,” he said.

Wendy looked around, and it was as if the reality of everything crashed over her. As if she suddenly realized what she’d done, and how publicly she’d done it.

Yeah, this was the kind of thing that got you on the news. And it was likely she’d only just realized that. And he wondered if she had driven all the way from California to Arizona riding high on anguish and anger.

He wondered if she’d even given it a second thought.

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