Page 55 of Adam's Rising

Claire touched his arm. “You shook your headno. What does that mean?”

It means I’m a horrible liar—or concealer, he thought. According to his mother, one meant the same as the other. The truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, which meant not telling the truth was a lie of omission. But unlike what Thomas did to him, no way would he pull Claire in any deeper than she already was. And if he admitted to anyone else that Thomas was dead, the police would show up next, asking why he hadn’t reported the murder. And their next question would be: who took out the shooters?And my prints are on that damn gun!

“It means… I need to break up with Lala before she learns about you and me.”

* * *

The entire wayback to the ranch, Adam wrestled with what to do next. Last night, he’d nearly lost it in the truck, imagining what that dirtbag might have done to Claire — only to find out she’d taken him down herself. Then came the report to Clara Mae. Instead of firing him, she’d promoted him. For a moment, it had felt like things were finally turning around.

But now, he was back at square one, as his father used to say.

When the riding path opened up to the dirt road leading back to the barn, Claire double clucked her tongue, urging Buttercup to move up beside him.

“You’ve got your thinking cap on again,” Claire said. “Care to clue me in?”

Adam heard her question, but the commotion outside the hands’ quarters drew his attention.

“What’s going on?” Claire asked, her voice rising in tension.

“Something we never got around to talking about,” Adam said calmly, no sense in getting Claire riled up as much as Clara Mae clearly was. “Hey, do me a favor. Head to the corral, and tie off Buttercup. I need to assist her.”

Adam didn’t wait for an answer. Claire knew how to take care of her horse better than any of the borders he’d seen here so far.

“Hi-ya!” Adam shouted, squeezing Bolt at the same time.

Adam had started this, so he needed to be there. He just never imagined Clara Mae would fire the man before the day had even started — and without Rusty or him backing her up.

What was she thinking?

“Crazy old lady!” Frank screamed as Clara Mae jabbed a rod against the guy’s rear.

She pulled back, but held the rod like a sword, daring him to come closer. “Smoking! Inmybuildings! Feet away frommyhorses!”

Adam tugged Bolt to a stop and hopped off at the same time. He tied him off outside the hands’ quarters just as Frank lunged forward, swatting at the —cattle prod, Adam realized.

Clara Mae shocked him on the leg.

“Bitch!” Frank screamed, leaping toward Clara Mae.

Adam didn’t think — just moved. One second, Clara Mae stood alone, the next, he was between her and Frank, catching a fist meant for her.

Instead of going backward, trying to avoid the punch, he moved into it, driving his body into Frank’s midriff and wrapping his arms around the man.

Adam’s momentum lifted Frank off his feet and onto his back in one move.

“What the hell?” Brett bellowed from across the way.

“Yourcousin,” Clara Mae screeched, “was smoking in his —mycabin. I smelled it from outside, so I opened the door.”

Adam straddled Frank, pinning his wrists to the hard ground. But it didn’t matter. The man was out cold. Good. Bowing up against a lady when he should have been running… Served him right.

Brett’s boots tromped toward Adam.

Clara Mae stepped between the older man and Adam, zapping her poker again. “Touch the boy, and I’ll light you up, Brett.”

Brett held back. Seemed everyone but Frank knew the woman didn’t play.

“Number one rule, Brett,” Clara Mae growled. “He knows it. You know it.No onesmokes around my horses.”

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