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Authors: Becky McGraw
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did. Not rough-and-ready
cowgirls. At least not in public. There had been an occasion or two
when she had given in, like the night of the almost kiss, but that
had been from frustration. She was frustrated right now too, but it
was not happening.
Twyla was going out to the barn and she knew
riding would soothe her. She threw the truck in reverse, and backed
out, then slammed the old truck into drive, before shoving her foot
down on the accelerator hard. Tango had always been there for her,
she knew he would be today too. Waiting for her, loving her, ready
to do whatever she asked him to do. That was the kind of man she
needed.
And so was the handsome mounted shooting
instructor she’d hired to help her. Randy had been very nice and
patient with their lessons so far, and she was making progress.
Tango was getting used to the sound of the gunfire, and she was
getting used to shifting her focus from Tango to the targets. Once
she got pistols of her own, her aim would probably get better.
Twyla was a good shot, had always been with a shotgun, but shooting
targets while moving at barrel-racer speed was tough. Her first
run, she’d missed every target.
Randy hadn’t laughed at her, or given up. He’d
patiently given her corrections, and told her he had a similar run
his first time too. Anticipation at working with him again built
inside of her washing away her anger and frustration. She was
secretly glad she would get to spend a little time with the man
too, even if it was only an hour. Every lesson she had, she was
finding more to like about the man. At her last lesson, she had
found out he wasn’t attached, so that was a plus.
So far there hadn’t been any indication that
he’d be interested in a gangly, tomboy cowgirl, though. Randy had
been totally professional with her, but who knew.
Stranger things had happened.
CHAPTER
SIX
Without thinking, Ryan scrubbed his hand over
his face. Pain shot up his nasal passages to his brain, and he
groaned. “Fuck!” he shouted to the empty apartment.
Jerking his shirt off of the sofa, he picked
up his boots and hat then ran out of the apartment to find Twyla’s
old truck was stopped at the exit of the apartment complex, waiting
for traffic to clear so she could pull out. Ryan sprinted down the
stairs and hopped into his truck. He tossed his boots and shirt on
the floor board then cranked the truck.
He needed to know what other kind of trouble
Twyla had gotten herself into. He would have to follow her to find
that out, because it was clear she wasn’t going to talk to him or
listen to anything he had to say. Hopefully, the bar was the worst
of it.
If it wasn’t, Zack was going to have a
stroke.
He saw her turn left out of the driveway and
tried to follow, but couldn’t make it through the break in the
stream of traffic. He watched her turn right as the next
intersection, as he sat there waiting for another break.
“ Please don’t let me lose her,” he
mumbled as he drummed his fingers impatiently on the steering
wheel.
Finally the light at the intersection changed,
and he had his chance. Ryan gunned the truck and fishtailed on the
loose gravel, before he straightened up and merged to the right
lane just in time to hang a left where he’d seen Twyla turn. He
didn’t see her rattletrap of a truck, so he weaved in and out of
traffic, keeping his eyes ahead for any sign of her. About a mile
ahead he finally saw her, as she merged onto the interstate. He
changed lanes to do the same.
Rush hour traffic had cleared, so Ryan sped up
when he merged onto the freeway. He saw Twyla about a mile ahead of
him, and decided to hang back a little so she didn’t see him. That
crazy cowgirl would probably run him off the road, and kick his ass
if she saw him. He wouldn’t put it past her right now.
Twyla just wasn’t in her right
mind.
That’s all that could explain her attitude and
actions, since he’d been there. Maybe after he talked her into
coming back with him, or
cowgirls. At least not in public. There had been an occasion or two
when she had given in, like the night of the almost kiss, but that
had been from frustration. She was frustrated right now too, but it
was not happening.
Twyla was going out to the barn and she knew
riding would soothe her. She threw the truck in reverse, and backed
out, then slammed the old truck into drive, before shoving her foot
down on the accelerator hard. Tango had always been there for her,
she knew he would be today too. Waiting for her, loving her, ready
to do whatever she asked him to do. That was the kind of man she
needed.
And so was the handsome mounted shooting
instructor she’d hired to help her. Randy had been very nice and
patient with their lessons so far, and she was making progress.
Tango was getting used to the sound of the gunfire, and she was
getting used to shifting her focus from Tango to the targets. Once
she got pistols of her own, her aim would probably get better.
Twyla was a good shot, had always been with a shotgun, but shooting
targets while moving at barrel-racer speed was tough. Her first
run, she’d missed every target.
Randy hadn’t laughed at her, or given up. He’d
patiently given her corrections, and told her he had a similar run
his first time too. Anticipation at working with him again built
inside of her washing away her anger and frustration. She was
secretly glad she would get to spend a little time with the man
too, even if it was only an hour. Every lesson she had, she was
finding more to like about the man. At her last lesson, she had
found out he wasn’t attached, so that was a plus.
So far there hadn’t been any indication that
he’d be interested in a gangly, tomboy cowgirl, though. Randy had
been totally professional with her, but who knew.
Stranger things had happened.
CHAPTER
SIX
Without thinking, Ryan scrubbed his hand over
his face. Pain shot up his nasal passages to his brain, and he
groaned. “Fuck!” he shouted to the empty apartment.
Jerking his shirt off of the sofa, he picked
up his boots and hat then ran out of the apartment to find Twyla’s
old truck was stopped at the exit of the apartment complex, waiting
for traffic to clear so she could pull out. Ryan sprinted down the
stairs and hopped into his truck. He tossed his boots and shirt on
the floor board then cranked the truck.
He needed to know what other kind of trouble
Twyla had gotten herself into. He would have to follow her to find
that out, because it was clear she wasn’t going to talk to him or
listen to anything he had to say. Hopefully, the bar was the worst
of it.
If it wasn’t, Zack was going to have a
stroke.
He saw her turn left out of the driveway and
tried to follow, but couldn’t make it through the break in the
stream of traffic. He watched her turn right as the next
intersection, as he sat there waiting for another break.
“ Please don’t let me lose her,” he
mumbled as he drummed his fingers impatiently on the steering
wheel.
Finally the light at the intersection changed,
and he had his chance. Ryan gunned the truck and fishtailed on the
loose gravel, before he straightened up and merged to the right
lane just in time to hang a left where he’d seen Twyla turn. He
didn’t see her rattletrap of a truck, so he weaved in and out of
traffic, keeping his eyes ahead for any sign of her. About a mile
ahead he finally saw her, as she merged onto the interstate. He
changed lanes to do the same.
Rush hour traffic had cleared, so Ryan sped up
when he merged onto the freeway. He saw Twyla about a mile ahead of
him, and decided to hang back a little so she didn’t see him. That
crazy cowgirl would probably run him off the road, and kick his ass
if she saw him. He wouldn’t put it past her right now.
Twyla just wasn’t in her right
mind.
That’s all that could explain her attitude and
actions, since he’d been there. Maybe after he talked her into
coming back with him, or
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