Protecting His Cowgirl: Brotherhood Protector World by Mary Winter

Author:Mary Winter [Winter, Mary]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Twisted Page Press, LLC
Published: 2018-06-25T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 6

If he’d had his preferences, he would have taken Leroy. The horse would be a lot quieter than this ATV, but he didn’t want to take the time to saddle the gelding, and then there was the question of whether he’d cooperate or not. The stubborn horse was good…when he wanted to work. If he didn’t, then he could be a royal pain in the ass.

He stopped a distance away from where the fence was cut, and brought up the cameras on his phone. Yep, the trespassers were still there, trying to tie a piece of rope around a balky steer’s head. He turned off the engine, hoping it was mistaken as coming from the highway, and hurried on foot.

“Come on. We got to get out here before they notice. It’s daylight,” a small voice said. It sounded suspiciously like the boy he’d caught before. Could the two kids be part of a steer theft operation?”

An ATV sat just outside the now-cut fence. He hurried over to it and cut the spark plug wire. He paused for a moment, watching the two kids, and they were kids, wrangle with the steer. It hopped on stiff legs, not happy at being caught, trying to shake its head to dislodge the bigger of the two.

The young kid he’d caught before was there, hanging onto the end of a rope. He didn’t have gloves, and if the steer bolted, he’d get some pretty bad rope burns. That was the least of his worries, though, because the herd was starting to react to the steer’s heightening sense of worry, and both of them could easily be trampled underfoot.

The older kid appeared to be two, maybe three years older, and clearly knew what he was doing. He quickly secured the knot, then started to walk.

The steer balked.

The idea of taking down these kids rankled. Memories flashed across his mind, though, of kids younger than this doing far deadlier things than stealing a steer. Taking a deep breath, he noted the sound of a truck coming up the alley, and bolted for the steer.

With a yell, he slapped the animal on the rump, sending it wheeling back onto its haunches, then turning and running back to the herd, the rope flapping behind it. He’d have to come back and get the rope off the animal, but not right now, because the younger boy had been knocked down by the steer as it turned.

Bull grabbed the older boy, wrenched his arms behind his back, and dropped him to the ground. He turned to the younger kid. “Don’t move,” he growled.

The kid, eyes wide, nodded. “Yes, sir,” he stammered.

“Shut up,” the older one growled.

The truck stopped.

“Stay where you are,” Bull called. He shifted, grabbed zip ties he’d stuffed in his pocket as he raced from the ATV, and secured the older boy’s hands. “Call the sheriff if you haven’t already.”

“Don’t call the cops,” the younger boy said, his lower lip quivering. “We can’t…”

“Shut up!” his older brother ordered.

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