Page 1 of His Cowboy Heart

ChapterOne

FLYNN

Even if I’dbeen at my sharpest, which I currently wasn’t thanks to yet another endless night of trying to coerce my restless mind to take a break for once and shut the hell up, I never would have heard the sound on my own.

Thankfully, my horse didn’t suffer from the same malady. When the stallion’s ears flicked forward and his pace quickened, it was enough to snap me out of the haze I’d been lost in from the moment I’d left my beloved stirrup leathers at the saddlery.

Unlike most riders, I didn’t need the stirrups to support my feet as I rode because it wasn’t my boots that were doing the communicating with my mount anyway. I let my horse take the lead because his senses were sharper than mine. The second I made out the muffled moan followed by raucous laughter, I let out the smallest of clicking sounds that sent my horse into a smooth, quiet canter. I gave the animal his head so he could figure out exactly where the sounds were coming from.

We’d only gone a few dozen feet when my horse slowed his stride enough that he could slip between two buildings. There was no more moaning or whimpering, but it was clear the tormenters weren’t done based on their laughter and the way they were prodding each other on.

“Dude, do it,” one guy said.

“Yeah?” another voice asked.

I heard what sounded like someone spitting.

I already had my leg swung over my horse’s back before he even came to a complete stop. It took just seconds to process what I was seeing as my booted feet hit the alley’s hard dirt. Three grown men were in the process of kicking dust all over what appeared to be some kind of large animal—a dog, maybe.

“You want some help gettin’ some of that dust off those pretty nails of yours?”

I couldn’t hear anything after that because the inferno of rage that had already been building inside of me took over every part of my body. The fuckers weren’t mistreating a dog. No, the body lying in the dirt at the men’s feet was that of a person who’d tucked themself into a tight ball and covered their head in an effort to protect themself from the random kicks to the ribs, the dust being kicked into their face, and the spit raining down on their small body.

As I got closer, my body switched from hot and out of control to ice cold and lethal.

Exactly the way I needed it to be.

Since I was once again in control of my senses, I heard the man standing closest to the figure on the ground continue with, “Maybe you should try a little meadow yellow first.”

The guy’s words made no sense to me until I heard the sound of a zipper being drawn down. His two buddies were too busy to even notice my silent approach because they were egging their friend on. Even if the other two hadn’t been there, I wouldn’t have changed the way I delivered my message to the man who was obviously their leader.

I had no idea if the guy had managed to pull his dick free from his pants before I reached him, but I was kind of hoping he had because it would make what I was about to do all the more satisfying.

After slamming my boot into the back of the man’s right knee, I stepped around him just long enough to let my fist slam into his face. The man’s moans of pain told me he was clearly finished, but the sight of his flaccid dick had me seeing red all over again. I yanked him to his feet long enough to knee him in the balls. The whoosh of air that left his lungs as he grabbed his nuts before falling flat on his face still wasn’t enough to satisfy my bloodlust, but I had something, or rather someone, far more important on my mind. I had no qualms about putting my back to the guy’s two wide-eyed buddies because I knew they were no threat now that their leader was out of commission.

“Get him out of here,” I ordered them, my voice dripping with ice. If it hadn’t been for the person huddled tightly in a ball at my feet, I would have happily taken what remained of my rage out on the two cowards who’d yet to move. I ignored the muffled moans and groans as the three men made their escape. There was a brief ruckus and several very un-muffled swear words a few seconds later, but I didn’t need to look to know what was going on. My loyal mount was making sure the assholes didn’t dawdle as they left the alley.

“Hey,” I said softly to the person still huddled in the fetal position before me. I couldn’t make out whether it was a man or woman because of all the dust covering their clothing, but I knew better than to touch the traumatized individual. My chest grew tight for some inexplicable reason, but I ignored the sensation. “Are you hurt?”

The soft, muffled crying was the only response I got.

“Do you want me to call the sheriff or the paramedics?” I asked. I didn’t particularly want to call the sheriff because I’d already had a brief run-in with the cocky man only a few minutes earlier when I’d entered town for the first time. He hadn’t done anything overtly threatening when he’d literally pulled me and my horse over with his police car as I’d arrived in the small town of Eden. The older man had puffed out his chest and made a show of putting his hat on, followed by placing his hand on his holstered gun. The whole thing had been so humorous that I’d nearly laughed out loud when I thought about what I’d do if he expected to see my license, registration, and insurance. Luckily, he’d merely interrogated me as to what I was doing in his town, eyeing me and my patient horse up and down with distaste before warning me to stay out of trouble as he’d strutted back to his vehicle.

“No,” the person squeaked. “I’m fine,” they choked out between coughs. I couldn’t tell by the voice whether the individual was a man or woman, but the strange tension in my chest grew stronger and an overwhelming need to put my hands on them took over. Before I even realized it, I was doing just that.

I got a muffled response to my touch, but it at least got them moving. They scrambled away from me until their back hit the brick wall behind them. I would have expected to be able to identify the person’s gender as some of the dust fell away, but all I could make out was dark hair, a flash of bright purple, and something that looked a lot like the shag carpeting that had covered the common areas of the place I’d once called home. Beneath the layer of dust, I could tell the shag wasn’t really shag at all, but the long fibers were similar. Only this particular person was wearing the once white material around their shoulders like some kind of mantle.

“I’m fine,” the stranger repeated. “You can go now,” he or she added.

Their voice had a lighter pitch to it, so I still couldn’t make out their gender, but every time the individual shifted their weight, more dust fell away, revealing an array of colors and textures. Glittery gold pants. Shimmering white pearls that seemed to be everywhere, and to top it off, high-soled platform boots with purple tassels hanging from where the heel met the sole.

Okay, so definitely a woman.

A strangely dressed woman for a small town like Eden.

Or for anywhere, as far as I was concerned. The closest image I could conjure up that matched even one element of the bizarre outfit was the tassels because they looked like the ones the ladies who did barrel racing in rodeos often wore.

The lady let out a shriek when my horse’s lips came into contact with her hair.

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