Cowboy Logic - B.A. Tortuga Page 0,43
no one does all the maintenance.” He’d seen the fence bowing like a whore on his way over.
“It was that asshole. I know it was.” Anderson was flushed and livid.
“Someone needs to call it in, then. Every time he pushes it, Daddy will get a little more angry. This is hitting him in the wallet with the bail money, and soon legal fees.” The Morrow family was like a pressurized water chamber. Eventually they would blow.
“Yeah. Sister’s been on the phone. I’ll take pictures. You okay? Decent night?”
“Yeah. We all did all right after you let me know everything was okay.” They heaved everything into the truck. “Before that I damn near had a heart attack.”
“I’m sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t have said for her to text, but…”
But Anderson had thought of him. That was what mattered. “I appreciated it.” He clapped Anderson on the arm. “I really do. I know y’all would keep Ellie safe, like I would defend Doug with my life, but… she’s my girl, huh?”
“She is. She’s a doll, and so outgoing. She was cracking me up telling me stories today.”
“Was she still Madam President?” They hopped in the truck and headed out to the main road again. Lord, he hated having to repair fence.
“She was. I’m going to be her speechwriter, apparently. I told her I’d be honored.” Anderson grinned at him, shook his head.
“I like it. Your job description: Head speechwriter and robot master.” Man, he should have stuck his coffee in a travel mug. “I get to be the President Daddy. Like the Queen Mother.”
“That’s the best job. Why is the closest Starbucks in Greenville?”
“I was just thinking that. Hell, you can get it delivered now in some place. Not here.”
“Yes, well… this is literally the asscrack of beyond.” Anderson stuck out his tongue. “I’m totally driving out there when we’re done.”
“I’ll put in an order.” He might go with, if Bailey was willing to keep the kids. He could maybe get in a few kisses. Jericho sure wanted them. In fact, he found himself stealing looks at Anderson’s mouth as he drove.
“Rock on. I’ll even buy whatever fucking meal we’re on when we make this safe.” Anderson groaned oh-so dramatically. “God. I was intending to bang out a chapter today.”
“Well, now you’re doing research. Some cattle rustler will come along and make life hard for Wyatt.” He loved those silly books. Really.
“Mmm… Cattle rustlers with strange altering brands…”
He loved how Anderson’s mind worked. He was beginning to understand that weird wonderfulness just after a few meetings and some books. Well, and some mind-blowing hand jobs.
The hand jobs had been worth writing home about, pun intended.
Sure enough, the fence had been cut, and right where the three sections came together. Goddamn.
They didn’t need this shit. Seriously, it wasn’t like Bailey was fixin’ to make the son of a bitch her sugar daddy or anything, and how was this supposed to win her hand? This was the petulant action of a spoiled child, but it could get way worse if Morrow decided to get even more stalkery.
They had livestock and kids to protect, dammit.
Bailey’s horses were worth a small fortune, but his cattle weren’t worthless, for fuck’s sake. He ran some damn good stock. Not to mention the dangers to everyone else. No vehicle won against a thousand-pound cow.
“Hey. You okay?” Anderson asked, and Jericho found himself growling.
“No! No, man. I am not okay. This is… Who the fuck does this? Who cuts fences and moves in with a lady that doesn’t want you? Threatens her damn kids!”
“Someone who grew up getting anything they wanted to play with.” Anderson touched the back of his hand. “We got this.”
“I’m just pissed as hell.” This wasn’t his fucking fight—and as mean as that thought was, it was true.
“I’m sorry. I know it sucks.” Anderson pulled away. “Tell me what to do.”
“Let’s get this fixed first, huh? And for fuck’s sake, don’t get hurt. You’re way above my pay grade.”
“I’m just a guy, huh?” Anderson said it gently, but Jericho couldn’t bring himself to answer.
Right. A rich gay guy with robots, novels, and a TV show. Anderson was too important to take a face full of barbed wire.
They started a quarter of a mile toward Jericho’s ranch, stapling what old fence they could use, then patching with the new where the worst cuts were. Anderson worked silently, head down, and Jericho felt more and more like an ass every minute.
“Hey,” he finally said. “I’m sorry I was such