Cowboy Conspiracy Theory (WEST Protection Book 3) by Em Petrova

Author:Em Petrova [Petrova, Em]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-09-19T23:00:00+00:00

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“Son of a bitch.” Mathias’s jaw ached from being clenched for so many hours. He wanted to rear back his head and roar at the sky for all the things that had gone wrong.

Having to kill a man didn’t leave his conscience feeling easy. Then the terror of seeing Madeline squeeze out of that rock to call out to Dahl had taken an even darker turn when he revealed the two knew each other better than Mathias thought.

The familiar way they’d eyed each other told him all he needed to know.

That she didn’t trust him with the truth of her past. What else hadn’t she told him? Could he even believe her reactions to him were real?

He twisted again to stare at the couple on the trail not a quarter mile behind them. “Your damn hippies caught up to us somehow.”

She didn’t turn to look. “I heard them a while back.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Out here with so many cliffs around them, sometimes he couldn’t pick up sounds all that well. He knew Madeline struggled the same way. He didn’t for a minute believe his skills surpassed hers. They were well matched.

Trouble was, they were matched in all ways. Right down to how their bodies responded to each other. Surely she couldn’t be lying about that?

Little stabs of pain in his chest didn’t help the anger rising in him at knowing that the hippies were making much better time than they were on these damn mules.

Madeline let out a gasp. He rode up beside her to find her staring at her phone. “It’s back up!” Her voice ended on a strangle.

“What is it? You better tell me.”

She glanced his way. “I think we’re off course.”

“Fucking fantastic.” Could the day get any worse?

He looked beyond her phone screen to her side.

And his heart lurched to a stop.

“You’re bleeding!”

She set her hand over the wound. “I think I popped one of the staples when you pulled me off the mule.”

Remorse and panic mingled in him with a heavy dose of guilt. “I hurt you.”

Her eyes met his. “You saved me.”

He jumped off his mule, placed his hands on her waist and gently drew her down. One glance at her blood-soaked shirt told him more than one staple had popped. If she’d ripped open the wound, he wasn’t sticking around to find any goddamn treasure. He would be using what service he had to airlift her the hell out of here.

He untied his sleeping bag from behind the saddle and dropped the roll to the ground. “Sit down. Let me look so I can decide what needs done.”

To his surprise, she didn’t argue. He crouched before her and gently peeled the bloody cloth away from the wound. She didn’t flinch or make a noise. Glancing at her face, he saw that she wore a tense expression even if she didn’t let on she was in pain.

“You lied to me,” he all but growled at her, stomping over to her mule and tearing the first aid kit out of her backpack.

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