Page 120 of Cowboy Heat
Cowboy Justicein the largest font I’ve seen a newspaper use is scrolled over the top of a picture of Robin’s Tree twenty-something years ago. Main Street almost looks the same, even in grainy black-and-white. Instead of the café, though, there’s a group of men standing tall, their horses in and out of frame behind them. Whoever’s belongings I’m going through had an interest in the Bayou Cowboys.
It makes everything around me that much more confusing.
But it does remind me of one thing I’ve conveniently forgotten.
I called Wyatt his morning for a reason.
No one in town ever named the gang that the Bayou Cowboys ran out of town in his favorite Robin’s Tree legend, but therewassomething every local knew about the story that had made the group feel somehow more menacing.
They never used guns, just knives that were special to only them.
I skim the article to see if there was any detailed description of the gang’s favorite weapon when a clattering noise from up the stairs reverberates down into the room.
I jump up and start yelling. It could be Jon or Guidry or some other menacing person I haven’t met yet. Or it could be Beau.
I’m betting on him with all of my heart as I run myself back up the stairs.
There’s a scraping noise, a jingle jangle, and then the door is blessedly wide open.
“Kissy!”
It sure isn’t Beau, but I’m not going to complain on that. “Alice!”
Alice Dean looks as sorry as I feel. Her hair is wild, there’s dirt across her face and clothes, and she seems as panicked as I felt the second I came to.
“I didn’t know, Kissy,” she says, reaching out to take my hand. “I didn’t know Jon could do any of this.”
I catch her elbow before her hand to steady the woman.
She’s looking ready to become a puddle. It has an opposite effect on me.
“Do any of what?” I start, standing tall. “Where are we, Alice? Where’s Micah?”
“Micah’s in the truck,” she says, tearful. “We-We’ve got to go before Jon gets back!”
She starts going fast despite her panic. I follow.
I have no idea where we are until we’re outside on the lawn.
“We’re inLa Lumiere,” I realize.
The second house on the left when you come in.
Why does it have a basement?
My thoughts scatter when I see the truck in the yard. Micah is in the passenger’s seat. He yells for me when we make eye contact.
“We have to leave,” Alice repeats. “Hurry!”
I don’t need any more than that. I slide into the backseat behind Micah faster than I’ve done anything in my life.
“Kissy,” the boy yells. I lean up between the seats to get a better look at him.
“Are you okay?” He seems to be fine. Scared, but physically okay.
“Yeah. Are you? You’re bleeding!”
I nod but quiet as Alice jumps in behind the steering wheel and throws us quickly into reverse.
