Page 12 of Cowhand Crush

“Trust me, you little prick, you have no idea what being inhospitable looks like. But if you don’t haul your ass off this property in the next thirty seconds, I will tattoo the definition of it on your pathetic hide.”

Isaac scrambled to his feet. He tried to laugh off Bowen’s threat, but it came out high and reedy. Bowen stomped up the porch steps, staring Isaac down. Then he put himself between me and Isaac like a wall of muscle.

“I don’t see you moving,” Bowen said.

“Well, I’m in the middle of a conversation—” Isaac started.

“Cody!”

I flinched at Bowen’s booming voice. He was usually so soft-spoken and patient. Even when the ranch hands were rowdy and acting up, he rarely yelled.

Cody darted out of the barn and skidded to a stop in a cloud of dust, holding his hat on his head with one hand.

“Yeah?”

“Bring me the branding iron.”

Isaac made a strangled noise in the back of his throat. Cody looked confused for a second.

“We’re not branding any cattle, are we? I don’t have the fire going—”

“Don’t need it to be hot,” Bowen called back. He lowered his voice and added for Isaac’s ears alone, “Cold iron will crack open a skull just fine.”

A heartbeat of silence hung in the air.

Then Isaac gradually began to retreat, kicking at a rock with his battered sneaker. It skidded away into the grass.

“Maybe we can chat another time, Avery.”

“If you even breathe in her direction, you’ll be coughing up your bloody teeth for a week,” Bowen replied.

Jesus Christ, why was that so hot?

Isaac sniffed and pressed his lips tightly shut, but he said nothing more as he walked away, sulking. After he’d climbed into his car hidden beneath an outcropping of willow trees by the driveway, I finally dared to release a sigh of relief.

That wouldn’t be the last I saw of Isaac. This was only the beginning.

Chapter 5

Bowen

I stared at the ceiling in the dark. Another minute dragged by on the glowing red letters of my clock, reading 12:11am.

At this rate, I wasn’t going to get any sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw that kid on the porch with Avery. A pocket knife clutched in his white-knuckled grip. The oily glide of his voice when he dared to call her baby.

With a growl of frustration, I pushed myself up into a sitting position. I might as well make myself useful. Grady had pressured the sheriff into leaving an officer on watch outside the house for Avery’s protection, but it wouldn’t hurt to have an extra set of eyes on the lookout for that fucking creep.

After getting dressed and making the strongest coffee I could bear, I poured myself a cup and stepped outside, settling into a chair. The foreman’s cabin was directly across from the boss’s house, affording me a clear view of the front door and the side entrance to the kitchen.

My gaze shifted upward to the second floor where Avery’s room would be, located above the living room. I’d caught her climbing out that window before, sneaking off when she thought Grady wasn’t looking. Since her window was dark, I hoped that meant she had better luck getting some sleep than I did.

Halfway through my cup of coffee, a light flicked on in the kitchen. I caught a glimpse of Avery at the window, browsing the refrigerator, poking through cabinets. Then the light shut off, and the house was quiet again.

I barely breathed as I waited and watched. Finally, I relaxed back into my seat.

Then the side entrance to the kitchen opened. A figure emerged, shrouded in shadow, but I didn’t need to see her face to know it was Avery. She hesitated for a moment, her shoulders hunched up and her arms crossed against the cool night air.

She hurried across the stretch of open land between her house and my cabin.