Texas Fierce (The Tylers of Texas 4)

Was it time for another trip to Rio Seco? Bull was already doing the math in his head. Five men at $500 each—that would fix the worst of the barn roof. And Jasper had yet to be paid. Nothing but loyalty was keeping him here. The money Bull had saved from his rodeo winnings was mostly gone. At this rate, he would soon be dead broke. But he understood the risks of transporting more illegal Mexicans. If he ended up getting caught and jailed, the ranch was as good as lost.

Something moved in the open yard and disappeared behind the barn. Though he’d barely glimpsed it, Bull was sure he’d seen a slender human figure. Was one of the Mexican boys up to some kind of mischief? Or was it an outsider, thinking to make off with some free beef? Whoever it was, they had no business being out here at this hour.

Keeping to the shadows, Bull slipped off the porch and followed on silent feet.

* * *

Susan rounded the back of the barn and reached the stout pasture fence. Gripping a solid metal post, and taking care not to snag her jeans, she eased herself over the barbed wire. The flashlight was in her pocket, but she didn’t want to use it. She needed both hands, and a moving beam of light would attract too much attention.

Her cap blew off as she dropped to a crouch inside the fence. She fumbled for it in the dark, but it had already blown out of reach. Standing, she took a moment to get her bearings. The pasture was about the size of a football field. The only gate was some distance behind her, where she couldn’t pass without being seen. To get where she wanted to go, she would have to cross the pasture and climb back over to the other side of the fence.

Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. But she’d already committed to her plan. Unless she wanted to risk being caught, she had little choice except to keep going.

Part of the pasture was still visible from the house. But clumps of invasive mesquite had sprouted here and there—not tall, but thick enough to hide her if she dropped low. Keeping her head down, she raced to the nearest one and paused to catch her breath. So far, so good.

She’d made it partway to the next clump when something stirred in the shadows at the far corner of the pasture. Something large and dark.

It must be cows, she thought—maybe a group of cows and calves, awake and curious. She spurred herself to move faster. By the time they wandered over here, she’d be gone.

But the dark shape was moving toward her now—moving faster, and not breaking up the way a cluster of cows would. Pausing an instant, she twisted the flashlight out of her pocket. Her hand shook as she switched on the beam.

The light revealed the ugly white face, blunted horns, and massive body of a huge Hereford bull. Head down, it was barreling straight toward her.

CHAPTER 5

HOLY HELL . . .

Bull reached the fence in time to see Jupiter pounding across the pasture. Fleeing from the monster, and losing ground fast, was a wisp of a girl, her long blond hair flying in the wind. For an instant she only looked familiar. Then, as something clicked, he realized she was the teenage cousin he’d seen in town with Ferg.

No time to remember her name or wonder what she was doing here. If he didn’t act fast, Jupiter would kill her.

Keeping a grip on his cocked pistol, he vaulted over the fence. The barbed wire ripped his jeans and tore a long gash in his thigh. He ignored the pain. He would have to divert the huge beast long enough for the girl to scramble to safety, then get away himself. That would take speed, timing, and plain dumb luck. He didn’t even want to think about the alternative.

Yelling and waving his arms, the way he’d seen rodeo clowns work, he fired into the air and rushed to intercept Jupiter’s path. Startled, the fool girl looked around. “Run, damn you!” he shouted. “Get to the fence!”

Spinning away, she plunged ahead. Jupiter’s nearsighted gaze had spotted Bull. The animal paused, swinging his massive head and horns as if uncertain which target to chase. Bull waved and darted away to one side, yelling a challenge as he cocked the gun again, inviting Jupiter to chase him.

For an instant the tactic seemed to be working. Then, a dozen yards from the fence, the girl stumbled to her knees. In a panic, she struggled to get up, her pale hair fluttering like a matador’s cape in the wind. The bull’s head swung from side to side. Then, choosing the more vulnerable target, Jupiter bellowed and charged her.

With the giant barely a stone’s toss away from the girl, Bull leaped into Jupiter’s path, aimed the Colt, and fired a bullet between the white-rimmed eyes.

With a moan and a sickening lurch, Jupiter collapsed onto his knees. A shudder passed through him as he rolled to one side, his massive body twitching in death.

Bull cocked the pistol and fired another shot into the huge head. His shoulders sagged as reality sank in. He had just destroyed the most valuable animal on the ranch—the key to the recovery of his herd.

Fury rising, he turned toward the girl. She was huddled where she’d fallen, sobbing. Susan—he remembered her name now. Susan Rutledge. Not that it made any difference. Neither did the fact that she was probably scared out of her wits. He was mad enough to slap her silly.

“Get the hell up, Miss Susan Rutledge.” He nudged her leg with his boot toe. When she raised her tear-streaked face, he held out his hand. She took it. He jerked her to her feet. Her palms were skinned, and her jeans were ripped at the knee where she’d fallen on something sharp. Her hair was tangled, her face streaked with dirt and tears.

“I’m . . . sorry,” she stammered.

“Sorry won’t bring back my prize bull.” He reined in the urge to grab the little brat by the shoulders and shake her. “What in hell’s name were you doing in that pasture?”

Her lip quivered. Then, seeming to pull herself together, she thrust out her stubborn chin and met his eyes. “Taking a shortcut.”

“A shortcut? To where?”

“Back to the road. I was just exploring. Then you came out onto the porch. I was afraid you’d catch me.”