The Wrangler by Kelli Ann Morgan

Author:Kelli Ann Morgan [Morgan, Kelli Ann]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781939049407
Publisher: Inspire Books
Published: 2018-07-26T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

Three a.m. and sleep still eluded him. Tag turned over in his bedroll, determined to order some beds for the bunkhouse before he left for Austin on Saturday morning.

It had been a long time since he’d shot a man. The sickening sound of bullets piercing flesh and the acrid stench of blood still haunted him after all these years, but when the man had drawn his weapon this afternoon, all he could think was to protect the woman whose hazel eyes, strong demeanor, and easy smile had bewitched him.

He could still hear the man’s grunt of pain ringing in his ears, could still see him collapsing forward with groans of agony. Tag scrunched his eyes tighter, willing the images and sounds to leave him in peace.

The hoot of an owl brought calm to the chaos of his mind and he sat up. The early morning hours held a chill, but he needed some fresh air. He tugged on his boots, reached for the quilt his mother had given him before he’d left home, and wrapped it snugly around his shoulders before stepping outside, careful not to let the edges touch the ground.

He breathed in deeply, the images from his dreams dissipating with the breeze. The crisp morning air was just what he needed. As he glanced across the landscape, he smiled. This land was his. It took a moment for the thought to truly sink in.

The breathtaking view filled him with awe. The moon looked bigger than he’d remembered it on previous runs through Texas. Crickets chirped, frogs croaked, and Cole’s snores could still be heard even outside the bunkhouse. He chuckled quietly to himself.

The gentle creak of the porch swing drew his attention to the house.

It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness of the early morning, but as he got closer, he saw Brenna sitting with one knee clutched in her arms, the other resting on the swing, and a blanket wrapped around her slight form.

He made his way to the porch.

“You couldn’t sleep either?” he asked quietly from the bottom step.

She sucked in a quick breath and sat up taller in the swing. “Taggert Redbourne, you startled me,” she said, her hand clutched around the blanket at her heart as she took another breath. Her legs dropped in front of her, the wince of pain obvious, even though she’d tried to hide it.

“Sorry,” he said sincerely, climbing the front steps. “May I?” he asked, motioning to the empty space now next to her on the swing.

“Please.”

The pins had been pulled from her hair and it cascaded down one shoulder. He wondered if it was as soft as it looked, but restrained himself from finding out. The moon’s light glinted off her darkened honey colored locks and illuminated her creamy skin.

Brenna Scott was simply beautiful.

Tag pulled the quilt from his shoulders and sat down next to her. The chains protested under his weight, but once he was sure they would hold, he laid his mother’s quilt over his lap and rested an arm behind Brenna on the seat.

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