Rules of Protection (Tangled in Texas #1)(56)

I wanted to show some usefulness but couldn’t think of anything to do offhand. Then the idiot rooster started crowing, which gave me an idea. What the hell, it was worth a shot.

Jake didn’t feel me leave the bed. I threw on some clothes and quietly scuttled out the door. The sun had barely risen, but I figured Floss was already awake and brewing the coffee. Hank would be up, too, but he was probably still in the bathroom—his early morning ritual.

Close to the barn, something round and dark blocked my path. At first glance, it resembled a pile of horse manure. As I got closer, I realized it was alive and moving. A splotchy black snake with reddish-brown swirls coiled itself into a tight ball, daring me to come closer. I couldn’t tell how long it was, but it had the impressive thickness of a banana. I stayed back, sniffing the air, but didn’t smell watermelon like Jake had said. Maybe I wasn’t close enough, but I wasn’t about to get any closer. Either this snake was unscented, or it was of the scratch-and-sniff variety.

My instincts told me to ask for help, but I didn’t want any of them to think I couldn’t handle the situation on my own. Sure, I could. I just didn’t necessarily want to. But running to Jake would be the spider-in-the-bathroom incident all over again. He would roll his eyes at me and consider me pathetic.

Nope. I refused to get his help this time. I wanted to prove to him—and myself—I was capable of handling this.

Keeping my eye on the snake, I maneuvered around it at a safe distance and grabbed a shovel from the barn. I distinctly remembered hearing Judd say if you cut off a snake’s head it would die. Carefully, I kept my feet and butt pushed back, leaned over, and with a hard jab, I chopped off the snake’s head.

Then I ran.

Holy shit! It didn’t work at all. The f*cking snake was still moving. My God, how is it still alive without its head attached? Snakes must be similar to cockroaches, which can live for days without their heads. Damn you, Judd! The dipshit didn’t mention that part.

I searched for another weapon until I spotted a large jug of diesel near the burn pit. Hank used it to burn the trash daily. I remembered where he put the matches, as well, so I grabbed both and ran back to the snake. It continued to toss and turn on the ground, slithering and wrapping around itself.

Staying as far back as I could, I poured diesel on the snake and threw a lit match. The fire caught instantly, but the snake continued to wiggle and squirm. Jesus Christ. What the hell did it take to kill one of these bastards?

Enough was enough. I ran back to the cottage, silently ducked inside, then found myself standing back over the snake with a .22 caliber pistol.

Pow. Pow. Pow.

Even at close range, I hit it only once. The snake rolled, curled onto itself, and finally went completely still. Jake ran out of the cottage, barefoot and shirtless, with a gun in his hand, while Hank and Floss stood on the back porch, grinning.

“What the hell are you doing?” Jake said, panting and staring at the snake’s burning corpse. “You scared the shit out of me! I thought some nutcase was out here shooting.” He waved his hands in the air angrily. “When I woke up and you weren’t in bed, I thought Felts had found you. But I guess my original assumption was correct. A nutcase was out here shooting.”

“Jake, I was…”

Hank and Floss had made it down the back steps and came over to us. “She killed the shit out of that snake,” Hank said, laughing. “Chopped off its head, set it on fire, then shot it.”

Jake looked at me as if I were crazy. “A little overkill, don’t you think?”

“It wouldn’t stop moving.”

Hank chuckled again. “They do that, honey. It’s their nerves twitching in their bodies. They’ll stop after a while.”

“What the hell were you doing out here this early, anyway?” Jake asked, his tone still slightly on the rough side.

“I wanted to help Floss by getting the eggs for her this morning. I figured it was the least I could do since nobody thinks I can do anything else. I’m useless and in the way all the time. I went to gather eggs, but ended up stumbling across this snake instead.”

“Damn it, Emily, you can’t—”

“Now, you watch your tone with her, Jacob Ward.” Floss stepped over toward me and glared at him. “Her intentions were good, and that’s all that matters.”

“But she can’t go around shooting—”

Floss raised her hand to shut Jake up. “I’ve said my piece, and I don’t want to hear nothing more about it. Emily, dear, as soon as you can get me those eggs, I’ll start breakfast.”

I smiled, grateful she’d give me a chance to prove myself. “Coming right up!” I set out for the barn, but Jake grabbed me by the arm to stop me. “What now?”

He held out his hand. “The gun. Unless you plan on using it to get to those eggs?”

I slapped the pistol into his hand, went to the barn to grab a small bucket, and marched straight for the chicken coop. From the moment I stepped inside, I was on high alert. The rooster huddled with the hens at the back of the pen as I made my way toward the nesting boxes. Like before, the hens scattered and the rooster strutted closer, nonchalantly pecking the ground, puffing out his feathers. From previous experience, I knew this behavior was similar to a dog’s warning growl before the actual bite.

But I didn’t wait for him to charge. Instead, I reached out, grabbed him by the neck, and slung him away. He jumped to his feet and came back for more. I raised the bucket in warning and yelled, “Rooster, I’ll f*ck you up!”