Page 19 of Cowhand Crush

“I trusted you, Bowen,” Dad barked. “I expected this from everyone else, but not you. Never you. I thought you were the one man I didn’t have to worry about getting in my daughter’s pants.”

“I meant no disrespect, sir,” Bowen replied.

My heart was racing so fast that it felt like it would explode in my chest. Meanwhile, Bowen sounded calm despite my father bellowing at him like a bull. Hopping on one foot, I yanked my boots on and stumbled outside.

On the horizon, a faint lavender pink graced the sky, indicating the arrival of dawn. The sun was about to rise on a world of destruction if my father had anything to say about it.

“You meant no disrespect?” Dad repeated, incredulous. “Avery is in danger. She has this stalker harassing her, and rather than keep her safe, you take advantage of her vulnerable state and use her for sex.”

“Dad!” I snapped. “I came to him. I chose to sleep with Bowen because I wanted to.”

Dad’s gaze flicked to me. I came to Bowen’s side and took his hand, leaning into his shoulder. His skin was still warm from sleep. He returned my grip with a fierce squeeze, brushing his thumb over my knuckles.

Dad turned away, shaking his head. As he studied the mountains in the distance, it struck me like a kick to the chest—the gray in his hair, the wrinkles around his eyes. He was beginning to look older, tired. And this was hurting him more than he wanted to admit. His foreman had betrayed his trust. His daughter was growing up.

“Pack your things, Bowen,” Dad said in a rough voice. “You’re fired. I want you off my property within the hour.”

Chapter 7

Bowen

I raised the ax over my head and brought it down, splitting the wood in two. My shoulders and arms ached from the work, but I couldn’t stop until the relentless echo of Grady’s words in my head faded. Blisters had formed along my palms, rubbed raw from the ax’s wooden handle. Sweat dripped into my eyes and slicked down my spine. As the day grew hotter, I abandoned my shirt on a nearby tree branch.

“When I said you could chop some wood,” Beau called as he approached. “I didn’t mean you had to do it all day.”

I shrugged, lining up another piece of wood and raising the ax again. Beau had spotted me packing up my truck and offered to lend a hand, no questions asked. Then I found myself having breakfast at their little home, tucked into a meadow, surrounded by trees.

Technically, I was still on Grady’s property, since he’d gifted a small tract of land to Beau and Rory as a wedding present. But I didn’t plan to stay long. I just needed to get my bearings. I still felt shell-shocked after this morning. Hearing Grady tell me to leave had rattled me more than I realized.

I could always get work somewhere else. There was no shortage of ranches in Colorado that needed a seasoned cowhand like me.

It wouldn’t be High Plains though. For twenty years, I came to think of this place as my home. It didn’t belong to me, and it never would, but it would hurt like hell to never see it again.

And what about Avery?

I heard Avery and Grady in the house when I left, going at each other like rabid dogs. If Grady didn’t even want me on his property, he would never accept that his daughter had chosen me. I had to make peace with the fact that I could lose Avery, too.

I swung the ax, shattering the wood.

“Why don’t you take a break?” Beau suggested. “It’s almost lunch time anyway.”

“Not hungry,” I muttered.

“You’ve been at this for three hours.”

I said nothing, stacking the chopped wood into my arms and depositing it on the pile at the cabin’s back door.

“Will you just tell me what’s going on?” Beau demanded. “I heard the boss chewing your head off earlier. Then he kicked you out."

I picked up the ax, savoring the weight of it in my grip.

“I did something unforgivable.”

“Which was…?”

Before I could respond, my phone rang in my back pocket. I pulled it out and glanced at the screen to see Avery’s name. I switched my phone to mute and returned it to my pocket. She would be furious with me, but maybe it was better this way.

I was a hired hand, easy to fire, easy to replace. Avery was Grady’s daughter—his flesh and blood, his family. She was used to getting what she wanted, just like her father. In this case though, getting what she wanted could destroy the perfectly good life she already had.

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