Page 5 of Wild As Her

Then another shot. Closer this time. I grit my teeth and push Pesto harder, every instinct in me locked on one thing: get there fast.

Because nothing good ever follows gunfire on ranch land. And if anything's happened toher…

God help whoever’s responsible.

Fuck.

I run through potential threats as I race across the field. A pack of coyotes, a wolf, or maybe a wild bull. Those are the best-case scenarios. The worst-case scenario is that Cami has completely gone and lost it and is ready to shoot me for all the hell I’ve given her over the years. And to be fair, she’s given it right back.

But I’ll never stop worrying about Cami Kendrick. Hearing shots come from her property, I’ll be damned if I let that go.

I come up over the hill, and there she is, and my heart clenches.

Cami stands in the pasture, her wild dark hair flowing down around her shoulders. She’s wearing tan overalls with the butt of her rifle locked into the crook of her shoulder as she yells at someone on the ground. It looks like a human and not an animal.

Holy shit.My heart races a mile a minute as we barrel towards her.

“Cami!” I bellow, my voice barreling over the field.

Her head whips around, rifle still perfectly trained at the person on the ground. I flinch and reach for my shotgun holstered next to my saddle out of habit, but my hand freezes.

“Get out of here, Jessop!” she snaps, her voice angry. “I’ve got it under control.”

The bastard lunges for her.

I’m off Pesto and between them before the man on the ground can touch her. Adrenaline roars in my ears as I slam him down, boot planted hard against his chest.

He snarls up at me, drunk, sloppy, stupid.

I lean in, jaw tight. “Big mistake.”

Real big.

Because he just made it personal, lunging for her like that, never mind what he’s doing here in the first place.

The man sneers and falls back to the ground, muttering something about a “crazy bitch.” My boot digs into him just a little harder at that comment. I recognize him as Granger, the neighbor to the north of Cami’s property. Sun-leathered skin from years in the Wyoming sun, but not in a rugged cowboy way, more like rotten beef jerky left on the dash. Greasy hair that he keeps shoved under a filthy ball cap. He’s got yellow teeth and a voice like gravel soaked in bourbon. A mean old son of a bitch my father was friends with. “What are you doing here, Granger? You’re on the wrong side of the fence.”

Granger spits in the dirt, lip curled like a rabid coyote. “This ain’t that bitch’s property no more. It’s the bank’s.”

Before I can speak, Cami points the rifle directly at him and squares her shoulders. “You’re trespassing.”

Her voice cuts through the air. Steady. Cold. Dangerous.

Jesus.

I keep my boot locked on Granger’s chest, but my eyes flick to her.

Hell, I really believe she’ll shoot this man.

“Cami,” I say carefully, “You need to call Sheriff Matthews.”

“No, I don’t,” she snaps. “That’s just witnesses. And evidence.”

She leans down and pokes Granger with the barrel. “I prefer to make this motherfucker fertilizer on the back pasture.”

Granger’s sneer drops straight off his face. The color drains out of him, and for a split second, I swear he’s about to piss himself. I think he just realized he’s in deep shit here.

And damn if I don’t feel a little proud. Right now, she’s the most terrifying woman in Wyoming.

---