McLeod, Anitra Lynn - Dirty Cowboy (Siren Publishing Classic ManLove) by McLeod-Anitra-Lynn Page A
Authors: McLeod-Anitra-Lynn
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All they wanted was to be left alone. Once the men got to running, Dalton should have stopped chasing.
That seemed logical.
But then, why hadn’t Dalton returned to him?
His heart caught.
Who knew what happened to Dalton’s thinking when he shifted form? What if he had stopped chasing but was around here, somewhere, covered in dust and unable to move like he had been at the spring? Not knowing anything about what happened to him after changing meant Everett was utterly baffled by the fallout. Had he just drifted away? Or had Dalton settled back into a pile of soft dust waiting for the wind to come again?
“Calm down. Won’t be a lick of good to no one if you panic.”
Everett didn’t even care that he was talking to himself. Right now, he needed the support. Otherwise, he might just start screaming and never stop. How could the fates be so cruel as to give him a taste of happiness then just yank everything away? What sin had he committed to deserve such harsh treatment?
Again, it was just as he’d always said. Good for one meant bad for another. It was good that Dalton had scared the men off so they could live and keep what little they had, but bad that it had apparently cost Everett his companion. Everett was grateful to be alive, but he wasn’t going to have much of a life without Dalton.
Everett found a road leading off the main so he moved the wagon over. Once he had things settled, he saddled up his horse, and set off along the main trail.
Night was falling, but Everett was determined to find Dalton. He kept his gaze along the ground, looking for a dust devil track. When he found a long, deep line in the dirt, he urged his horse to follow. As the track narrowed, he slowed his mount. Just about the last thing he wanted to do was run over Dalton. The darker it got, the harder it would be to see him if he were covered with dust, like he had been at the spring.
Step by step he moved along, but the track he’d been following just petered out. He climbed off his horse and continued on foot. When he found nothing, he moved back to where the trail ended and tried a different direction. Methodically, Everett made a wagon wheel of spokes out in every direction from where he’d tied up his horse.
Over and over he shuffled slowly through the area until he was exhausted. The night was pitch-black without a bit of moon to help him search. His hopes were utterly dashed. If Dalton were here, he would have found him by now.
“Dalton!”
He called until his voice grew rough, but still, he would not give up. Calling and slowly moving through the brush, he continued his search in the dark.
In the wee hours of the morn, the crescent moon rose, giving him some light to work with. He now moved in a spiral around the focal point of the ended dust devil track. Around and around he walked until he wanted to vomit from dizziness and fear.
Finally, at long last, frustrated, dehydrated, and emotionally broken, Everett slumped to his knees and wept.
Chapter Eleven
Everett awoke with a start. He winced when he opened his eyes and looked up into the sun.
“Damn it!”
He shook the dust from his hat, plopped it on his head, then checked his surroundings.
His horse was still standing where he’d tied him off. When he rose onto his unsteady legs, he discovered his wagon was right where he’d left it. The only thing missing was the most important one. Dalton.
Dry and hot, the land around him taunted him all day with the almost constant birth of dust devils. Atop his mount, he chased them down until, much like Dalton had, they simply disappeared. When night came ’round again, he cared for the animals, ate a bit of food, then bunked down in the back of the wagon.
For three days he followed this pattern. As darkness crept across the land on the end of the third day, Everett suspected that he’d gone loco. Hell, he’d been out here wildly chasing wind through the prairie, and what did he have to show for his efforts?
That seemed logical.
But then, why hadn’t Dalton returned to him?
His heart caught.
Who knew what happened to Dalton’s thinking when he shifted form? What if he had stopped chasing but was around here, somewhere, covered in dust and unable to move like he had been at the spring? Not knowing anything about what happened to him after changing meant Everett was utterly baffled by the fallout. Had he just drifted away? Or had Dalton settled back into a pile of soft dust waiting for the wind to come again?
“Calm down. Won’t be a lick of good to no one if you panic.”
Everett didn’t even care that he was talking to himself. Right now, he needed the support. Otherwise, he might just start screaming and never stop. How could the fates be so cruel as to give him a taste of happiness then just yank everything away? What sin had he committed to deserve such harsh treatment?
Again, it was just as he’d always said. Good for one meant bad for another. It was good that Dalton had scared the men off so they could live and keep what little they had, but bad that it had apparently cost Everett his companion. Everett was grateful to be alive, but he wasn’t going to have much of a life without Dalton.
Everett found a road leading off the main so he moved the wagon over. Once he had things settled, he saddled up his horse, and set off along the main trail.
Night was falling, but Everett was determined to find Dalton. He kept his gaze along the ground, looking for a dust devil track. When he found a long, deep line in the dirt, he urged his horse to follow. As the track narrowed, he slowed his mount. Just about the last thing he wanted to do was run over Dalton. The darker it got, the harder it would be to see him if he were covered with dust, like he had been at the spring.
Step by step he moved along, but the track he’d been following just petered out. He climbed off his horse and continued on foot. When he found nothing, he moved back to where the trail ended and tried a different direction. Methodically, Everett made a wagon wheel of spokes out in every direction from where he’d tied up his horse.
Over and over he shuffled slowly through the area until he was exhausted. The night was pitch-black without a bit of moon to help him search. His hopes were utterly dashed. If Dalton were here, he would have found him by now.
“Dalton!”
He called until his voice grew rough, but still, he would not give up. Calling and slowly moving through the brush, he continued his search in the dark.
In the wee hours of the morn, the crescent moon rose, giving him some light to work with. He now moved in a spiral around the focal point of the ended dust devil track. Around and around he walked until he wanted to vomit from dizziness and fear.
Finally, at long last, frustrated, dehydrated, and emotionally broken, Everett slumped to his knees and wept.
Chapter Eleven
Everett awoke with a start. He winced when he opened his eyes and looked up into the sun.
“Damn it!”
He shook the dust from his hat, plopped it on his head, then checked his surroundings.
His horse was still standing where he’d tied him off. When he rose onto his unsteady legs, he discovered his wagon was right where he’d left it. The only thing missing was the most important one. Dalton.
Dry and hot, the land around him taunted him all day with the almost constant birth of dust devils. Atop his mount, he chased them down until, much like Dalton had, they simply disappeared. When night came ’round again, he cared for the animals, ate a bit of food, then bunked down in the back of the wagon.
For three days he followed this pattern. As darkness crept across the land on the end of the third day, Everett suspected that he’d gone loco. Hell, he’d been out here wildly chasing wind through the prairie, and what did he have to show for his efforts?
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