Page 63 of Protective Cowboy

Her phone chimed with the notification sounds for her Snowberry Springs Tourism Board and Reviving Snowberry Springs accounts.

What she saw there confirmed her fears. It wasn’t just her personal social media inboxes that were blowing up. All her clients’ accounts were being bombarded by hate mail.

Even The Yummy Cowboy Diner was suddenly being hit with a flood of one-star reviews on Yelp.

What am I going to do about this? A fresh flood of panic threatened to swamp her. How do I protect Summer and Winnie from all this? Are the trolls going to go after Mom and Dad’s Airbnb business next?

Her parents depended on the money that the ranch’s guest cottages brought in.

Her phone buzzed again. She looked down and winced at the preview of yet another hateful message.

Matt grabbed the phone from her. “I don’t want you reading any more of this trash. Let me handle it.”

“But—” she protested. These were her social media accounts and clients. Her responsibility.

“Please, Autumn.” He kept a tight hold on her phone when she tried to take it back. “Let me do this for you.”

She sagged against the back of the sofa in relief, too wrung out to argue. “You’re the best. And I owe you big time.”

He raised one brow and shot her a sideways glance. “What are friends for?”

She touched one of the sore spots on her neck and wondered if they’d moved beyond friendship. Waking up next to him this morning had felt so right. And now he was doing his best to buffer her from the incoming flood of nastiness.

He’s a keeper, she thought fondly as she watched him scroll through the flood of hundreds of email and text messages, deleting them.

His jaw tightened as he paused occasionally to read something. She could only imagine what kind of vitriol had caught his eye.

“Jeez,” he muttered, rapidly tapping Delete. “The 101st Chairborne Division of the Internet Keyboard Warriors really came out in force for this.”

Then he stopped, frowning. “Hey, someone named Karla emailed you. She wants you to call her,” he said. “Her email address is [email protected].”

Crap. Oh, crap. Autumn groaned silently and closed her eyes in despair.

The show’s crew had probably heard all about this debacle by now. And Karla would want to fire the person responsible for the firestorm of controversy.

She shook her head when Matt offered her the phone. “Just delete it. I can’t—I mean, I know what she wants to talk to me about. I’ll get in touch with her later.” Maybe in a decade.

Matt hesitated. “Are you sure? It might be important.”

“I’m sure. She just wants to let me know she can’t work with me anymore.” It was hard to force the words out around the lump in her throat.

Matt deleted the email, then turned to her. “I’m sorry.” He drew her into his arms. “It’s not your fault he’s doing this to you.”

“I know,” she replied, because he expected her to. Does it even matter who’s at fault?

The result was the same: her dream job, working for Winnie’s show, gone. Her town, in a harsh spotlight of negative publicity. Her sisters, caught in the fallout.

Overnight, Phillip’s cruelty and spite had destroyed everything Autumn had worked for these past nine months.

Her phone started ringing with her “Family” ringtone, the cheerful melody at odds with her bleak mood. She tensed when she saw “Grandma Abigail” on the caller ID.

Of course. Her grandmother was the driving force behind Snowberry Springs’ recent rebirth. She kept tabs on everything happening in town and online. She was probably upset at the current blast of terrible publicity.

Bracing herself, Autumn took her phone from Matt and answered it.

Grandma Abigail’s warm, familiar voice came through the line. “Autumn, dear. How are you doing?”

“Not great,” Autumn confessed. “You’ve heard about the interview Phillip gave to RedCarpetRumorMill.com?”

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