His Cowboy Heart by Jennifer Ryan

Author:Jennifer Ryan [Ryan, Jennifer]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2017-02-21T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 19

Ford didn’t know what spooked Jamie last night, but he had a feeling whatever it was had to do with the strange things happening at the ranch. Like the fact that he suspected his patch job on the chicken coop had been torn apart by a two-legged culprit rather than the four-legged predators that normally did those kinds of things. Not a single damn track on the ground. He didn’t want to go there, but he had to consider someone had done this deliberately to provoke him. Unsettled as Jamie looked last night, he searched the yard again for any evidence to support his growing concern that Jamie’s paranoia that someone was out there wasn’t all in her head.

The chickens and chicks had escaped their pen and roamed the yard, but were safe and all there by his count. Not one foot print from a predator out for an easy meal.

Another task to attack, he went to the tool shed to grab a hammer and staples to repair the broken boards and wire. The second he stepped through the door, it swung closed as something scraped against the wood followed by a thwack as the shovel he’d left propped against the outside wall fell and blocked the door. Ford pushed against it, but only managed to lodge the shovel firmly against the handle.

Another fucking fluke? This made one too many coincidences. Frustrated, he tried the door again, shaking the weathered wood, then punching it when it didn’t budge.

Ford listened intently as something rustled in the grass outside.

What was that?

Probably one of his now free-range chickens.

He rubbed his stinging knuckles and tried to think of the best way out of there. He needed a tool, something he could use to pry one of the weathered boards off the wall by the door and free himself.

Tired of bumping into things in the dim light coming through the narrow window at the peak of the low roof, he reached for the light switch, hoping the bare bulb wasn’t burned out and the damn thing worked. Seemed everything he touched went haywire lately. He flipped the switch. A spark and hiss alerted him to danger a split second before the gasoline soaked rag lying over the outlet box caught fire and it spread up the desert dry wood walls.

Who the hell put that there?

He thought the gas smell had come from one of the old lawn mowers.

Smoke filled the small space quickly. Ford tried to kick the door open, but the shovel handle held firm. Coughing, trying to think through the panic, he searched for something he could use to bust out one of the boards in the back wall.

He grabbed hold of the worktable and tried to move it from the wall, but with its drawers filled with tools, spare parts, and junk from years gone by, he barely moved it an inch at a time. The effort it took sapped his energy and made him cough harder through the thickening smoke. The heat from the fire licking across the walls and up to the ceiling made him sweat.

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