The Trouble with Texas Cowboys (Burnt Boot, Texas #2)(12)

It was like Polly’s fall, happening in slow motion as Jill picked her way through the cans to grab Tyrell by the hair and give it a yank. He drew back his fist, thinking it was Quaid, and she would have felt the brunt of it if Sawyer hadn’t clamped his big hand over it in midair.

“You lay a hand on her, cowboy, and you won’t live to see the light of day.” Sawyer pulled them apart and shoved Quaid toward the door. “Get out of here. This is neutral territory, and you know it. If either of you ever start anything in here again, you won’t get a warning, you’ll get a royal ass whuppin’.”

“Why aren’t you runnin’ him off?” Quaid growled.

“I am, soon as you clear the parking lot. I don’t give a shit if you two drive out in the middle of the road and kill each other. At least that way Jill wouldn’t have to go out with either of you tomorrow, so have at it. But you’re not fighting in this store.”

Tyrell bowed up to Sawyer. “You can’t tell me what to do.”

Quaid spun out of the driveway, throwing gravel everywhere at the same time that Betsy parked her truck in front of the store. She hurried in out of the cold and looked around wide-eyed at the mess.

“Was that… Holy shit, Tyrell, what happened in here?”

“He can tell you later. He’s leaving,” Sawyer said.

“This store will fold up without Wild Horse’s business, so you’d better watch your smart-ass mouth,” Tyrell said.

Betsy reached out to touch his shoulder. “Come on. Let me help you to your truck. Hell, you look like you got slammed by a semi.”

He shook off her hand. “I don’t need your help. This isn’t over, Sawyer. I’ll see you tomorrow evening, Jill.” He marched out to his truck and drove away.

“One of y’all want to tell me what happened? Who are you and where is Gladys?” Betsy asked.

“Jill, meet Betsy Gallagher. Betsy, this is Jill Cleary, Gladys’s niece who’s come to live on Fiddle Creek and learn the business.”

Jill wiped her hands and came out from the back of the meat counter. “Pleased to meet you.”

“Likewise.” Betsy nodded. “I heard you were coming to our place tomorrow and that you were here to help Gladys with Fiddle Creek. And I heard Polly broke her ankle. That mean you’ll be takin’ care of the bar, instead of the ranch?” She turned to look at Sawyer as if she could start a make-out session right there in the store. “I bet a big strong cowboy like Sawyer can take care of this little bitty spread all by himself.”

Sawyer picked up an armload of cans and put them in a cart. “I’ll be taking care of the bar. Jill is going to run the store so Gladys can help with Polly. And you can tell your kinfolk that there better not be any more altercations around here. Gladys didn’t abide it, and we won’t either.”

“Boys will be boys.” She laughed, and with a wave over her shoulder, she was gone.

“Good grief, Sawyer. What have we gotten ourselves into? I thought I was going to be helping run a ranch, not having to deal with these people on an everyday basis. I’m glad you were here. I would have never gotten those two apart without you, and I have no doubt they would have torn the place apart. Thanks for helping to get this corn all gathered up.”

Sawyer continued picking up the cans that had rolled every which way. “We have to deal with them, but we’ll keep it professional. Just put all the corn into a basket, and we’ll push it into the back room. We’ll restock the shelves as we need it, and we’ll forget about a pyramid display.”

“Sounds good to me, but tomorrow won’t be professional. Dinner and supper with families, that’s personal.”

Sawyer put four more cans into the cart. “We’ll get through it, and we won’t ever let them corner us again. We need two pounds of bacon and honey. If I’m cooking breakfast, then you are making some kind of muffins for breakfast dessert. I’m real partial to blueberry, but I won’t fuss about banana nut.”

“I like western omelets with peppers, onions, and tomatoes,” she said.

“For blueberry muffins, I can make an omelet that will melt in your mouth.”

“They’ll have to be from frozen berries. There’s no fresh at this time of year.”

“I’m not that particular. It can even be out of one of those boxed mixes.” Sawyer picked up a piece of paper and wrote a number on it. “This is my cell phone. It’s in my pocket all the time. If you need me, call and I’ll be here in less than five minutes.”

“Thanks, Sawyer. Seems like I’ve said that more in the past twenty-four hours than I have my whole life.”

Sawyer left with the groceries, and not another soul came into the store. Gladys called twice to give Jill updates on Polly. They had to put pins in the ankle, and it would be at least two months before she could put weight on it.

Jill sighed and looked at the clock. It was only two hours until she could leave, and she had a pie and a cake to make, but her heart wasn’t it in. Not even to prove to Sawyer that she could make a damn fine apple pie. Just thinking about sitting in that store, day in and day out for two whole months, maybe even longer, put her in a Jesus mood…that’s the worst kind of mood, one where even Jesus couldn’t live with her.