Page 145 of Burn the Wild

I step forward, rubbing her arms to warm her. “You do okay on a ranch, Birdie Girl.”

She bats her eyes at me, smiling. “Just like a cowgirl?”

My heart does a slow roll in my chest. “Just like a cowgirl.”

I mean it. She’s done things this summer, put up with shit, and never once complained.

Backs to the dark, we stare into the blue sky, the wind buffeting across my face.

“It’s beautiful,” Reese says simply.

The bright July sun stretches across the horizon in a brilliant blast of gold.

It’s like peace across the prairie. The same peace reflected in my chest.

As I look around, I realize Eephus has drifted into the tall prairie grass in search of food.

I whistle.

When he ignores me in favor of his meal, I shake my head and stomp through the tall grass. “Let’s go, you stubborn bastard.”

I barely get the words out when excruciating pain lances up my leg.

Hissing a breath, I double over. “Fuck.”

As I pat the leg of my blue jeans, I look down in time to spot a dark shadow slithering away, tail vibrating with the familiar rattle of danger.

My stomach drops.

Oh shit.

“Ford, what happened?” I can hear the worry in Reese’s voice.

“Back up, baby.” Grabbing her arm, I give her a clumsy shove, desperate to get her out of harm’s way.

I lose my grip on Reese.

Blackness crashes in and knocks me to the ground.

Ishriek when Ford collapses onto his side.

“Fuck,” he groans. “Fucking snake got me. Dirty bastard.”

My mind does a cartwheel of realization.

Ford. Snakebite. Hurt.

Oh no.

Falling to my knees, I hover over him. My heartbeat is so loud I can hear it in my ears, feel it in my palms. “What do I do?”

The color drains from Ford’s face. “Take off my boots.”

I yank them off. Gasp.

The snake’s fangs pierced through the leather. His leg is already swelling, and a trickle of blood seeps from each of the small puncture wounds on his right calf.

My hand flies to my mouth to hold in a sob. “You got bit, Ford.”