Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 69794 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69794 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
His face turned, and his eyes were…broken.
He looked like he’d just had his soul stolen.
I brought his hand up to my mouth and kissed it.
But Beau’s next words were shattered. “She needs to go to jail before I kill her.”
Those words weren’t for me.
But I chose to take them as such.
I leaned into his body and placed my hand over his mouth. “Shhh, don’t repeat that aloud ever again.”
Why was I okay with his declaration?
Yes, if it was true, that woman had almost killed my child.
But I shouldn’t be okay with murder.
Yet, as I studied his face, my hand still covering his mouth, I realized that there wasn’t much this man could do that would ever scare me away.
Cold-blooded murder?
Meh. As long as he was in bed with me at the end of the night, I could overlook it.
THIRTEEN
Not likely to comply.
—Beau’s secret thoughts
BEAU
I’d dropped them off at home, even though every instinct in my body screamed at me to keep them close.
I went to bed early, my mind exhausted and jumbled as I thought about ways to kill my sister without getting pinned for it.
By the time that I woke up the next morning, my mind wasn’t in a better place.
My first thought was to head to Magnolia’s house to find out how Iris made it through the night.
But that would be the wrong choice.
I couldn’t smother them with my overprotectiveness. Nor could I force my way into their life if they didn’t want me there.
And she’d made sure to let me know that they needed to get back to normal, and that meant not having me there hovering twenty-four-seven.
So, I did the next best thing.
I went to Denver’s place to lend a hand.
He’d made an offhand comment a couple of days ago, talking about how tired the crew was rounding up cows from the public lands and bringing them to closer pastures. They’d also wean babies from their mamas and either keep them or sell them off.
To do that they had to separate them, and that took a lot of time and manpower.
Getting dressed in jeans, my dusty old cowboy boots, shirt and sweatshirt, I grabbed my Jesper County Baseball cap and headed out the door without letting Denver know that I was coming.
I didn’t bother stopping for coffee.
Denver always had plenty on hand for his ranch hands, as well as enough food to feed an army.
Today was no different.
I pulled up and caught my old Carhartt that I’d had since high school before heading toward the light at the barn.
I saw several familiar faces, including Major and Hux.
I offered them handshakes on the way to the coffee.
After pouring myself a black with two sugars, I snatched a couple of Kolaches and headed to Denver who was tacking up a horse. “Where do you want me?”
He grinned. “Thanks for the help. We could use it. You can come with me. I think the kids have the others covered.”
I jerked my chin up at him and headed to a stall to find a horse.
Of course, my baby was there.
“You crazy son-of-a-bitch,” one of the hands muttered. “I can’t believe you trust her.”
“She’s the sweetest, aren’t you?” I cooed at the older girl as the ranch hand walked away. “It’s not his fault he tried to ride you and you didn’t want him to.”
She didn’t get to ride much anymore unless it was with me. She’d gotten quite cantankerous in her old age.
I’d first gotten her when I was seventeen.
Gosling—Goss for short—was a racehorse. She’d competed—and won—in the Kentucky Oaks—the female only version of the Kentucky Derby—and I’d won a shit ton of money off of her.
However, when she was done with her racing days, I’d brought her home with me where I’d been stationed at the time. She followed me all over the country for the last decade until I’d settled back home in Sawtooth.
Since she loved having attention, and I hadn’t been able to give that to her as much over the last eight months, I’d boarded her with the club president so he could keep a closer eye on her.
She was just past the eighteen-year mark and only got more defiant with age.
But she loved me and didn’t miss a chance to show it.
I slipped her a carrot that I’d picked up out of the fridge on the way to her stall, and she crunched it with happiness as I got her saddled up.
Fully ready to go, I led her out into the pre-dawn light and smoothed my hand over her jaw when she got too close to Denver’s horse.
“Swear to God, you’re a miracle worker,” he murmured as he moved his horse away. “Sometimes I feel like she hates the world.”
“She’s just selective.” I chuckled. “Ready?”
“As ever,” he grumbled.
I pulled my work gloves on and mounted Goss, who quivered with excitement.