Page 22 of Cowhand Crush

Isaac spat on the ground, barely missing my boot by an inch.

“Piss off, cowboy.”

Without a word, I turned on my heel and climbed into my truck. Through the rear-view mirror, I watched a flicker of panic cross Isaac’s face. He tried to wiggle his way out of the rope, gnawing at it with his teeth.

I started my truck and gunned the engine.

“Are you crazy?” Isaac shrieked.

I stepped on the gas. The truck lurched forward before I hit the brakes again. Isaac skidded on the pavement a few inches. I stuck my head out the window and glanced back.

“What do you say, asshole? Are we going for a spin around town?”

Isaac’s jaw worked, grinding his teeth. It must be eating him alive that I had the upper hand. I revved the engine to a deafening roar.

Isaac’s eyes widened with fear.

“Okay! Okay!”

He practically had to scream to be heard over the growl of my truck. Finally, I shut off the engine and got out, turning to face him.

Isaac sulked with a petulant tug at the rope binding his wrists.

“Let me go, all right? Are you happy now? I’ll leave. Tonight.”

I crossed my arms and didn’t budge, waiting for the part I needed to hear the most. He blew out a breath of frustration.

“And I won’t contact Avery anymore.”

“Swear it,” I said.

Isaac swallowed hard and glanced away. I pulled my door open, preparing to climb into my truck again.

“I swear!” Isaac said in a rush. “I swear…I won’t contact Avery.”

I came to stand over him and drew my pocket knife out, flicking the blade open. He gulped.

“If I hear that you lied to me,” I said. “If you have anything to do with Avery from this point forward, I will drag your ass up and down every goddamn road in this town until your skin is shredded clean off your bones. Got it?”

Isaac nodded, his mouth puckered into a nervous, tight line. I sawed the rope off his wrists and dismissed him with a hard, cold stare. He scrambled to his feet and hurried out of sight.

Chapter 8

Avery

I furiously raked the brush over my mare’s flank in her stall. She flinched and side-stepped at my roughness.

“Sorry, sweet girl,” I murmured, patting her neck.

She blew out a breath and flicked her ear in my direction. I took that as a begrudging apology.

Even though it had been a few hours since the fight this morning with Dad, I still felt wired, on edge, and irritated. I couldn’t believe that he’d actually fired Bowen. No matter what I said, he wouldn’t budge on the subject.

To rub salt in the wound, Bowen had packed up and disappeared. He wasn’t answering my calls. I had no clue where he went after leaving High Plains. I just wanted to hear his voice, to tell him I’m sorry he got the brunt of my father’s anger, and I would make this right…somehow.

“Is anyone home?” Birdie called.

She ventured into the barn, carrying a tray of food. I raised my arm to get her attention.

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