Page 39 of His Fresh Start Cowboy
“Oh, sure, that’s what all abusers say. You need to leave. Right the fuck now.” Hugo was proud of the strength he’d managed to put into those final four words, even while his belly was a mess and still threatening to upchuck his lunch.
Buck took three long strides toward Hugo. Hugo held his ground, unwilling to cower in front of this man ever again. A flash of black and brown fur moved in his peripheral vision, and then Brutus was between them. Hackles raised, head low in a protective stance. One growl had Buck retreating to the other side of his motorcycle.
“That is one ugly dog,” Buck said.
“He had a run-in with a wild animal a few weeks ago. He’s got more strength and loyalty in his front paw than you’ve got in your entire body. Now get the fuck out of here!”
Buck watched him, clearly not happy at being run off, rather than leaving by his own choice. Another low growl from Brutus had Buck reaching for his helmet. Hugo only vaguely registered the distant sound of hoofbeats—a sound quickly drowned out by Buck gunning his motorcycle’s engine. He sped off in a cloud of dust, and Hugo leaned his back against the side of the barn, all of his anger deflating as the terrified boy he’d once been won the battle for dominance. His knees shook, and he was chilly all over, despite the warm afternoon. He clasped his arms around his middle, unable to move from that spot.
Jackson pulled his horse to a stop near Hugo and climbed off with perfect grace. “Hey, man, are you okay?” He stepped closer, his big body too much like Buck’s, and Hugo flinched. Jackson looked over his shoulder at the dusty trail left by the departing motorcycle. “Who was that? Did they hurt you?”
Hugo shook his head no. He hadn’t been hurt, not physically. Not this time. “He was no one.”
“Bullshit. You look like you’re going to pass out.” He took a single, small step toward Hugo. “Let’s go sit in the break room for a minute. Sip some water.”
“No, I, uh, need some time alone.” Alone so he could collect himself and get his emotions under control. Yes, his brutal relationship with Buck was one of the things he’d come back to Texas to face, but without his mom’s support, it didn’t seem worth doing. Those particular demons could have stayed buried, but then Buck had decided to show up and harass Hugo for no good reason.
Jackson studied him with dark, uncertain eyes before nodding once. “Okay. I’ve got a handle on things here if you need to take the rest of the afternoon off.”
Brutus loped over and rubbed his face against Hugo’s thigh. Hugo absently petted the dog’s head, grateful for his loyalty. “I don’t know, I just need...um.”
“It’s fine. Go, sit and collect yourself. But man, if you ever need to talk, I’m a pretty good listener.”
“Thanks.”
“And whoever that was, do you think he’ll come around again?”
“Hope not. He’s got no business here.”
“Okay.” Jackson still didn’t look convinced but he was backing off graciously, rather than pressuring Hugo, and Hugo appreciated that more than he could verbalize.
He headed into the barn, blindly seeking something and unsure what until he found it. Then he climbed.
Chapter Twelve
By the middle of Saturday afternoon, Brand was exhausted in the best ways. While not sleeping well on a cot for the last two nights was definitely a contributor—thank God the food alley had a truck that served coffee—he’d also spoken to more people the last two days than probably in the last two months. While the fair was open, he, Dad, and Rem worked in shifts at their booth, so they all had a chance to wander around. Mom spent most of Saturday with Leann, Sage, and her grandkids, and Brand knew she was in heaven.
Mom loved nothing more than to spoil those kids, especially if fun things like cotton candy and kettle corn were involved.
Besides the animal showing, food and crafts shows, and food alley, the fair also had a small carnival set up, with a handful of rides and some games for cheap prizes. Brand had tried his hand at throwing darts and balloons, won, and then handed the stuffed cow off to a little girl he passed. She squealed and said she’d name it Goose.
Why? No idea, but she was adorable.
At three o’clock he’d just swapped out his booth shift with Rem again, and his stomach growled with hunger. Brand had been eyeballing the jalapeño corn dog truck since yesterday, and with the chili cook-off not starting until four, he had time to grab something to eat before he cheered Mom on.
Halfway to food alley, his cell rang. Jackson. His stomach pitted. “Yeah, it’s Brand.”
“Hey, man, I hate to bother you, especially if you’re at the booth,” Jackson replied, his normally even tone a little strained.
“I’m on a break, actually. What’s going on?”
“I’m not entirely sure, but something is up with Hugo. About an hour ago, I got back from a perimeter check, and some guy was leaving on a motorcycle, and Hugo looked spooked. Like, seriously spooked by something, and Brutus was being kind of protective of him. He wouldn’t tell me who the guy was, though, so I told him to take a break. He’s been up in the hayloft for the last hour, just sittin’ there.”
Fuck.
A deep, protective instinct rose up inside Brand at the idea of Hugo hurting over a stranger’s visit. And then it hit him: Buck. From what little he knew between conversations with both Hugo and Rem, the only person who could have Hugo so withdrawn and scared had to be his stepbrother.
“I’m on my way back,” Brand said before he’d properly thought it through. Maybe he should have sent Rem, but Brand needed to make sure Hugo was okay with his own two eyes. “I should be there in twenty, maybe twenty-five minutes.”
