Page 44 of Claimed By the Cowboys

There’s a moment where I feel myself flying through the air. Where I’m weightless, the barn flying by me as I tumble backwards. Then, there’s a spark of pain across my back that matches the burning in my stomach.

Lying on the floor of the barn, I gasp. I didn’t realize how much pain I was in until I sucked in that deep breath of air. I must have had the wind knocked out of me.

Fuck me. I’m not a rodeo guy for a reason. Those guys can take a fall without breaking a sweat. Me, however, I fucking hate it.

The horse is screaming, and I know that I need to get her back into the stall. I move up, my torso and my back screaming at me as I go. I wave my hands, and she startles, hopping back into the stall. I shut the door, then groan as a wave of pain cascades out from my ribcage.

I fall. Like I said, I’m not a fuckin’ rodeo cowboy. This shit hurts, and I’m not even going to try and fight through it.

I shut my eyes, trying to breathe as my back and my front both pulse with hurt.

“Brent?”

I blink my eyes open. There’s brown hair. Green eyes, in a delicately boned face. Petite shoulders, kneeling down, close to me.

Fuck.

“Hey, Piper,” I whisper, the sound wheezing from my lungs. “You good?”

“Jeez, Brent. What the heck happened to you?”

CHAPTER 12

Piper

Brent is an absolute mess. He’s lying on the ground in the barn, covered in hay and mud and with a horseshoe-shaped mark on his stomach, right underneath his pecs but still bordering on the edge of his ribcage.

His face looks… pale. Like all the blood is totally gone from it. He’s in so much pain, and of course he is. He got kicked by a horse. I know for a fact that itreallyhurts to get kicked by a horse.

“Brent,” I say, my hands tugging at his button-down as I try to figure out where he’s hurt. “What the heck? Are you okay?”

He grunts, taking one of my hands in his. “Fine. I’m fine.”

“Um. Are you? I think you just got kicked by that horse,” I mutter.

Brent gives a hacking laugh. “I’d say so, Pipes.”

“Okay. Well, I think we need to get you out of here,” I say. I think it’s probably a good sign that he’s feeling… chipper enough to talk back? I have no clue. But I need to get him inside, so I can figure out how badly he’s hurt.

Brent gives a half-hearted sigh. “Piper. I’m really okay. I just need a second.”

“Well, how about I sit here with you?”

He looks over at me. His eyes look even more green in this light. “Is Sam in his stall?”

I glance over at the stall next to us. Sam, the absolute sweetheart of a gelding, is sitting in his stall, calm as can be. “Yeah.”

“I think he needs some food?—”

“I’ve got it.” I stand, then head over to the hay. Pulling some, I load it into the feeder in Sam’s stall, giving the sweet gelding a quick kiss on his velvet-soft nose as I go. “That horse is the nicest horse on the face of the planet,” I say, coming to sit next toBrent again.

He looks a little better now. Less like he’s going to fall apart. His face has more color in it, which I assume is a good thing.

Brent grunts, looking at Sam’s stall. “Slowest, too.”

“Well, he can’t help that. He’s just enjoying the ride.” I glance at Sam again. Blaire and I had a horse, growing up. He was old as dirt, but we both loved him.

“He reminds me a lot of Corona,” Brent says softly.

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