Cowboy Logic - B.A. Tortuga Page 0,10

but her smile was super pleased. “You’re my brother. You can do all the things.”

“I sure do try.” He reached out and squeezed her hand. “We should go check on the horses before we start on the beer part of our night.”

“We have a beer part? Woo-hoo.” She took his hand in hers, then tugged him up.

“You said the kids would be out. That’s beertastic.”

She hooted. “Good thought.”

“Come on, honey. Horses wait for no man. Or woman.” Man, it had been a long time since he’d had to feed. “Where are the dogs? Didn’t you have dogs?”

“I have four. They’re at the barns. My shepherd passed away last year.”

“Shit. Hannibal? He was a hoot.”

Her expression went sad. “Oh, hon, Hannibal died the year after you graduated.”

Fuck. He really had been out of touch. “Well, I suck.”

“Totally. You can let Goliath hump your leg in penance.”

“Goliath? Is he a chihuahua?”

“Ha-ha. Put on waders. You’re not dressed for the barn. He’s a Bernese mountain dog.”

“I did my best. I packed quick.”

“Your boots cost too much to put them through the yard.” Waving, she indicated a pair of big Wellies by the door. Too big for her.

“Jack’s?” he asked. Her husband, Jack, had been a good man, a good dad, and he’d loved Bailey more than life.

“Yeah. I can’t bring myself… Well, it won’t be long until Dougie fits into them.”

Doug was six, but he held his tongue. She didn’t have to make excuses to him. Loved ones died, but no one had to forget them.

“I’ll be careful with them, promise.” He got them on and posed. “Lead the way, woman, and show men what to do.”

“You got it.” The moment she stepped outside, she started smiling. It had to feel good to have her freedom back.

He would fucking well make sure she kept it.

Chapter 4

“No, I swear, he has a shotgun. I think he’s keeping her hostage!” The man’s voice was higher than normal, strident and panicky, which you know, odd for the Walmart parking lot, and usually reserved for old Mrs. Blair, who honked and pulled out without looking every single time.

Jericho tilted his head, eavesdropping shamelessly. What the heck? The sheriff’s deputy, Dave Kander, was cuffing up one of the Morrow boys right here like it was nothing. Who and what was being kept hostage?

“Well, son, Bailey says you were harassing her. So I’ll take her word until proven otherwise.”

Shit. He’d never called Bailey Whitehead. He owed it to Ellie to go check on his way home. Morrow harassing her was bad enough, but if someone else was keeping on her with a gun… Dave had obviously talked to her, but it couldn’t hurt to peek in.

Be a friend.

Be a decent dad.

Yeah. He loaded the last of the dog food and milk in the truck. The kids were all with their granny, so he had time.

He’d stop by, see the stranger, scare him away if Bailey needed him to, and then head home.

There. Decided, and not hearing anything else because Dave had taken Morrow away, he got into his truck, singing along with Easton Corbin on the way out of town.

A strange truck sat in the drive when he pulled up at Bailey’s, and he took a minute’s hesitation. It would suck if the man shot him when he walked up to the ranch house. Ellie said Bailey’s guy was mad… Maybe she meant crazy and didn’t even know it.

What the hell was he doing here?

He was a fucking cowboy. He was going to make sure his widowed neighbor was okay. That was the decent and right thing to do, and Bailey had always been really good to him.

Taking a deep breath, Jericho stepped out of the truck. He headed up to the porch and knocked on the door once he got there.

“Just a second.”

He didn’t recognize that voice, and he sure as shit didn’t recognize the hard body that answered the door, blond curls windswept, green eyes like lasers, solid and broad-shouldered. Hot as hell too, though Jericho reckoned he wasn’t supposed to notice that. He did take his hat off, holding it in one hand. “Hey. Is Miss Bailey in?”

“She is. Hey, Jericho. Come on in.” The guy stepped back to let him inside.

He paused, one foot over the jamb. “Do I know you?”

The dude chuckled softly and held out one square, scarred hand. “Obviously not. Logic. Pleased.”

He stared at it. “I’d like to see Miss Bailey, please.” Something was wrong here. There really was some stranger living