Read Online Relentless (Fallon Sisters Trilogy: Book #1) by P. J. O'Dwyer - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: P. J. O'Dwyer
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this was his fiancee, Susan Hewitt.
"Ready, sweetheart?" he asked. Susan nodded. Robert looked down his nose at his father. "It's late."
Understanding Robert's meaning, Wes straightened off the rail, but he waited until Robert was out of earshot before he leaned over toward Bren. "Keep it up, girl, and you'll end up—" He locked onto something to the right and gave Bren a tight smile. "Don't start trouble for me with my son." The edge to his voice menacing, he turned his back and walked away.
The crowd parted, and Bren cringed when Kevin, dressed in street clothes, pressed forward.
Now she was in trouble.
He eyed her. "I don't need your take. I saw it from the stands."
"But he threatened me."
Wes glanced back grinning and kissed the air with mocked sincerity.
Bren pointed at him. "He—"
"Give it a rest." He nodded to the stranger, still in a sitting position with his legs drawn up, hands resting on his kneecaps. "Nice save." Kevin reached out and pulled him to his feet.
"Not with her." The stranger nodded in Bren's direction and dusted off his jeans.
"Bren." Kevin waved a negligent hand her way and frowned. "Don't get me started."
The man bent down and picked up a black felt cowboy hat, then placed it on his head.
"Nice Stetson. Where you from?" Kevin asked.
"Texas."
"Visiting?"
"No. Looking for land."
"Not enough in Texas?"
"Branching out." The stranger cocked his head. "Third degree?"
Kevin laughed. "No." He reached out and extended his hand. "The name's Kevin Bendix. I'm the sheriff. I guess it's my nature to ask questions."
The stranger shook his hand. "Rafe Langston—rancher."
Bren gave them her back and checked the bleachers, looking for Aiden and Finn. Finding them with Jeremy, she took a step in that direction.
"Hey." Kevin grabbed her arm. "Hold on. I need to talk to you."
Bren's shoulders slumped, and she glanced over at him. "Kind of busy here, Kev. Unless it's about Sweet Prince, you're going to have to wait." He'd had two weeks since Christmas to dig into the most recent horse death.
"Bren," he warned.
"Okay. How about later?" She nodded toward Aiden and Finn in the crowd. "I need to get them home."
"Fine." He motioned with his hand. "I'll be by tomorrow morning."
Wonderful. He would read her the riot act. Except he forgot one thing—Wes had instigated this one.
Bren took a step in the direction of the bleachers but hesitated. To the right of her the cowboy remained. Leaning against the rail, a slow smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, and he followed her with his eyes.
Her cheeks warmed.
Jerk.
Chapter Four
B ren shivered against the patchwork quilt and pulled her legs up tight to her chest. Why was it so cold? She couldn't afford to come down with the flu. There was too much work that needed to be done and money to be raised.
The nightstand rumbled, and Bren glanced at the clock: three seventeen in the morning.
Screw him.
She'd taken in three abuse cases yesterday, mucked out stables, and taken a ride on her horse Smiley toward the back forty to mend a hole in the fence. She was tired and in no mood to play his game tonight. Bren ignored her cell phone and pulled the quilt over her head.
Get the message, asshole. I'm not picking up.
She smiled when silence greeted her back.
The nightstand rumbled a second time. Bren popped her head out for air, and shot her hand out. The phone glowed a serene blue with Tom's name bold and dark against the bright screen. The bastard knew what he was doing. She was beginning to associate anger and fear with Tom. And that pissed her off. She flipped open the phone and hung up on him, refusing to listen to his insidious breathing on the other end.
This had been the fifth call since the sale barn incident almost a week ago. For all the notifications she'd given Kevin, he still couldn't locate the phone or the caller through what he called triangulation. Seemed the phone needed to be on longer for that to happen.
Keeping the phone in her
"Ready, sweetheart?" he asked. Susan nodded. Robert looked down his nose at his father. "It's late."
Understanding Robert's meaning, Wes straightened off the rail, but he waited until Robert was out of earshot before he leaned over toward Bren. "Keep it up, girl, and you'll end up—" He locked onto something to the right and gave Bren a tight smile. "Don't start trouble for me with my son." The edge to his voice menacing, he turned his back and walked away.
The crowd parted, and Bren cringed when Kevin, dressed in street clothes, pressed forward.
Now she was in trouble.
He eyed her. "I don't need your take. I saw it from the stands."
"But he threatened me."
Wes glanced back grinning and kissed the air with mocked sincerity.
Bren pointed at him. "He—"
"Give it a rest." He nodded to the stranger, still in a sitting position with his legs drawn up, hands resting on his kneecaps. "Nice save." Kevin reached out and pulled him to his feet.
"Not with her." The stranger nodded in Bren's direction and dusted off his jeans.
"Bren." Kevin waved a negligent hand her way and frowned. "Don't get me started."
The man bent down and picked up a black felt cowboy hat, then placed it on his head.
"Nice Stetson. Where you from?" Kevin asked.
"Texas."
"Visiting?"
"No. Looking for land."
"Not enough in Texas?"
"Branching out." The stranger cocked his head. "Third degree?"
Kevin laughed. "No." He reached out and extended his hand. "The name's Kevin Bendix. I'm the sheriff. I guess it's my nature to ask questions."
The stranger shook his hand. "Rafe Langston—rancher."
Bren gave them her back and checked the bleachers, looking for Aiden and Finn. Finding them with Jeremy, she took a step in that direction.
"Hey." Kevin grabbed her arm. "Hold on. I need to talk to you."
Bren's shoulders slumped, and she glanced over at him. "Kind of busy here, Kev. Unless it's about Sweet Prince, you're going to have to wait." He'd had two weeks since Christmas to dig into the most recent horse death.
"Bren," he warned.
"Okay. How about later?" She nodded toward Aiden and Finn in the crowd. "I need to get them home."
"Fine." He motioned with his hand. "I'll be by tomorrow morning."
Wonderful. He would read her the riot act. Except he forgot one thing—Wes had instigated this one.
Bren took a step in the direction of the bleachers but hesitated. To the right of her the cowboy remained. Leaning against the rail, a slow smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, and he followed her with his eyes.
Her cheeks warmed.
Jerk.
Chapter Four
B ren shivered against the patchwork quilt and pulled her legs up tight to her chest. Why was it so cold? She couldn't afford to come down with the flu. There was too much work that needed to be done and money to be raised.
The nightstand rumbled, and Bren glanced at the clock: three seventeen in the morning.
Screw him.
She'd taken in three abuse cases yesterday, mucked out stables, and taken a ride on her horse Smiley toward the back forty to mend a hole in the fence. She was tired and in no mood to play his game tonight. Bren ignored her cell phone and pulled the quilt over her head.
Get the message, asshole. I'm not picking up.
She smiled when silence greeted her back.
The nightstand rumbled a second time. Bren popped her head out for air, and shot her hand out. The phone glowed a serene blue with Tom's name bold and dark against the bright screen. The bastard knew what he was doing. She was beginning to associate anger and fear with Tom. And that pissed her off. She flipped open the phone and hung up on him, refusing to listen to his insidious breathing on the other end.
This had been the fifth call since the sale barn incident almost a week ago. For all the notifications she'd given Kevin, he still couldn't locate the phone or the caller through what he called triangulation. Seemed the phone needed to be on longer for that to happen.
Keeping the phone in her
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