Page 8 of Untaming the Cowboy
Lennie scrunched up her face. “Girl, hush, I was the one that told you what Granny said.” She flippantly waved her hand with a smirk. “You didn’t even know DeeDee was out of town ‘cause you was busy boo-lovin’ with Jamin. Now quit trying to make this about me—let the girl answer. DeeDee?”
Shayla gave her the middle finger, and Dahlia fought the tug at the corner of her mouth before she spoke. “I’m in South Dakota, in this town called Ironhaven. Teylor would’ve been here, but I kinda messed up. I got my ticket for this week instead of next week.”
There was a long pause before both cousins burst into laughter.
Lennie wheezed, “Only you would end up in a cornfield somewhere gettin’ lost in white folks’ country.”
“Right! Next thing we know, she gonna be behind some bar serving up beers and line dancing for tips,’” Shayla cackled.
Dahlia rolled her eyes, still chuckling. “Y’all done? Because your cousin here got into an accident with some white cowboy at little while ago.”
“Wait—what?” they both shouted.
She threw up her hands. “I’m fine, promise you. It was just a fender bender.”
“See? Only you,” Lennie said, shaking her head. “You would be the one to get into a fender bender in Westbubbafuck, South Dakota.”
“And survived to tell it?” Shayla added, shrugging.
Dahlia could still picture him standing there, jaw tight, those gray-green eyes flickering from calm to cold in a heartbeat, like he was one word away from growling. She pushed through the shudder. “Anyway, this big ol’ cowboy—mean as a junkyard dog—hit me, but he got a ticket and he’s gonna pay for it.”
“As he should. But ma’am, a mean junkyard dog?” Shayla said, tilting her head with a look of mock disbelief. “And you didn’t smudge him?”
“I was already thinking I’m gon’ sneak-spray him if I run into him again,” Dahlia promised, lifting a finger. “Real quick—psst, psst—before he even know what’s happening.”
Her cousins hollered.
When their laughter finally died down, Dahlia sighed and rubbed a hand over her face. “Alright, y’all, I’m about to hop in the shower and wash off all this road dust and bad juju from the night. I’ll call you tomorrow, promise.”
“Nah-uhn, not before we sang, girl,” Shayla said, snapping her fingers and started the familiar humming.
Since they were little, the Childs girls had been singing wherever life took them. Shayla and Lennie had grown up obsessed with Mariah Carey, always belting out “Always Be My Baby” like it was their anthem. Some things never changed. Every time the three got together, music followed. For them, it was more than a song; it was their way of keeping close.
Dahlia grinned and joined in. Once Lennie came through with the hook, the three of them harmonized a few lines of their favorite song, “We Are Family” by Sister Sledge before hanging up.
When the screen went dark, Dahlia set the phone on the nightstand and headed for the shower. Steam and lavender soap chased away the night’s grit, leaving her skin cleaner and her mind a little clearer.
Half an hour later, she emerged somewhat refreshed. She peeled back the coverlet and slipped beneath the cool sheets.
Dahlia stared at the ceiling for a long breath, the evening replaying: the sting of metal, the tilt of a white hat under neon, eyes shifting with every passing light.
She had come to Ironhaven for music and rodeo. Instead, her first night ended with a collision and a man whose gaze refused to settle.
Some start to a simple getaway.
3
LUCAS
“Stanley! Hel—”
He turned just in time to see Ramirez go down, body folding after several bullets tore through him.
“No!”
Luc dropped behind a low wall, grit biting into his skin, the acrid taste of smoke clawing at his throat. He crawled through the dust, the earth shuddering beneath him. His palms were raw, bleeding against the rocks as he dragged himself across the rubble. When he reached Ramirez, he pressed his hands over the wound, the hot slick of blood spilling between his fingers.
“Stay with me, brother. I got you. Just hold on.”
