barn beginning to turn their way. From the corner of her eye, she watched two men rise from the tractor tire and start toward them; another pair pushed off a section of the railing, their hats shadowing their faces as they approached.
Brian’s bloodshot eyes flickered toward them, then he glared over Sophia’s shoulder at the man who had just spoken. “What? You calling in your friends now?”
“I don’t need them to deal with you,” the stranger said, his voice even.
At the comment, Brian pushed Sophia aside, releasing the viselike grip on her arm. He turned and took a step toward the voice. “You seriously want to do this?”
When she turned, it was easy to understand the reason for Brian’s swagger. Brian was six and a half feet tall and over two hundred pounds; he worked out at the gym five times a week. The guy who’d threatened him was more than half a foot shorter and wiry; he wore a cowboy hat, though it had definitely seen better days.
“Go along now,” the cowboy said, backing up a step. “There’s no reason to make this any worse.”
Brian ignored him. With surprising speed, he lunged toward the smaller man, his arms wide, intending to take him down. She recognized the move, had watched Brian flatten countless people on the lacrosse field, and knew exactly what was going to happen: He’d lower his head and drive hard with his legs, felling the other man like an axed tree. And yet… while Brian did just what she’d expected, it didn’t end the way she’d seen it happen before. As Brian closed in, the man kept one leg in place as he leaned to the opposite side, his arms sweeping as he used Brian’s momentum to throw him off balance. A moment later, Brian was facedown in the dirt with the smaller man’s scuffed cowboy boot on the back of his neck.
“Just calm down, now,” the cowboy said.
Brian began to struggle beneath the boot, preparing to push himself up, but with a quick hop – while still keeping one boot planted firmly on Brian’s neck – the cowboy’s other foot slammed down on Brian’s fingers, then quickly moved aside. On the ground, Brian retracted his hand and screamed while the boot on his neck pressed down even harder.
“Stop moving or it’s only going to get worse.” The cowboy’s words were clear and slow, as if he were addressing a dimwit.
Still stunned by the rapidity of the events, Sophia stared at the cowboy. Recognizing him as the figure she’d noticed standing alone by the railing when she’d first walked out, she noted that he had yet to look at her. Instead, he seemed intent on keeping his boot in the proper place, as if warily pinning a rattlesnake to the canyon floor. Which, in a way, he was.
On the ground, Brian began to struggle again. Again, his fingers were stomped while the other boot remained fixed on his neck. Brian stifled a wail, his body gradually growing still. Only then did the cowboy look up at Sophia, his blue eyes piercing in the reflected lights outside the barn.
“If you want to go,” he offered, “I’ll be glad to hold him for a bit.”
He sounded unconcerned, as if the circumstances were nothing out of the ordinary. As she struggled for an appropriate response, she took in the messy brown hair poking out from beneath his hat and realized that he wasn’t much older than her. He looked vaguely familiar, but not because she’d seen him at the railing earlier. She’d seen him somewhere else, maybe inside, but that wasn’t quite right. She couldn’t put her finger on it.
“Thanks,” she said, clearing her throat. “But I’ll be okay.”
As soon as he heard her voice, Brian resumed his struggle; again it ended with Brian jerking his hand back amid howls of pain.
“You sure?” the cowboy asked. “I’m sensing he’s a bit angry.”
That’s an understatement, she thought. She had no doubt that Brian was furious . She couldn’t suppress the tiniest of smiles.
“I think he’s learned his lesson.”
The cowboy
Brian’s bloodshot eyes flickered toward them, then he glared over Sophia’s shoulder at the man who had just spoken. “What? You calling in your friends now?”
“I don’t need them to deal with you,” the stranger said, his voice even.
At the comment, Brian pushed Sophia aside, releasing the viselike grip on her arm. He turned and took a step toward the voice. “You seriously want to do this?”
When she turned, it was easy to understand the reason for Brian’s swagger. Brian was six and a half feet tall and over two hundred pounds; he worked out at the gym five times a week. The guy who’d threatened him was more than half a foot shorter and wiry; he wore a cowboy hat, though it had definitely seen better days.
“Go along now,” the cowboy said, backing up a step. “There’s no reason to make this any worse.”
Brian ignored him. With surprising speed, he lunged toward the smaller man, his arms wide, intending to take him down. She recognized the move, had watched Brian flatten countless people on the lacrosse field, and knew exactly what was going to happen: He’d lower his head and drive hard with his legs, felling the other man like an axed tree. And yet… while Brian did just what she’d expected, it didn’t end the way she’d seen it happen before. As Brian closed in, the man kept one leg in place as he leaned to the opposite side, his arms sweeping as he used Brian’s momentum to throw him off balance. A moment later, Brian was facedown in the dirt with the smaller man’s scuffed cowboy boot on the back of his neck.
“Just calm down, now,” the cowboy said.
Brian began to struggle beneath the boot, preparing to push himself up, but with a quick hop – while still keeping one boot planted firmly on Brian’s neck – the cowboy’s other foot slammed down on Brian’s fingers, then quickly moved aside. On the ground, Brian retracted his hand and screamed while the boot on his neck pressed down even harder.
“Stop moving or it’s only going to get worse.” The cowboy’s words were clear and slow, as if he were addressing a dimwit.
Still stunned by the rapidity of the events, Sophia stared at the cowboy. Recognizing him as the figure she’d noticed standing alone by the railing when she’d first walked out, she noted that he had yet to look at her. Instead, he seemed intent on keeping his boot in the proper place, as if warily pinning a rattlesnake to the canyon floor. Which, in a way, he was.
On the ground, Brian began to struggle again. Again, his fingers were stomped while the other boot remained fixed on his neck. Brian stifled a wail, his body gradually growing still. Only then did the cowboy look up at Sophia, his blue eyes piercing in the reflected lights outside the barn.
“If you want to go,” he offered, “I’ll be glad to hold him for a bit.”
He sounded unconcerned, as if the circumstances were nothing out of the ordinary. As she struggled for an appropriate response, she took in the messy brown hair poking out from beneath his hat and realized that he wasn’t much older than her. He looked vaguely familiar, but not because she’d seen him at the railing earlier. She’d seen him somewhere else, maybe inside, but that wasn’t quite right. She couldn’t put her finger on it.
“Thanks,” she said, clearing her throat. “But I’ll be okay.”
As soon as he heard her voice, Brian resumed his struggle; again it ended with Brian jerking his hand back amid howls of pain.
“You sure?” the cowboy asked. “I’m sensing he’s a bit angry.”
That’s an understatement, she thought. She had no doubt that Brian was furious . She couldn’t suppress the tiniest of smiles.
“I think he’s learned his lesson.”
The cowboy
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