“Trevor please,” she begs. Her watery eyes plead with me, though I don’t know what she wants.
For one moment thick with tension, my body tenses, ready for what comes next.
Instead, he huffs a dark laugh, shaking his head and finally listening to his girlfriend.
Good luck with that date.
My eyes follow the woman despite myself. Brown curls hitting mid-back, figure soft and curvy in a purple puffy jacket that matches her eyes, light-wash skinny jeans, and knee-high gray Sorrels.
How the asshole suckered in that beauty I’ll never know. But then, I never could figure out the whole relationship thing.
Mack closes the distance, eyes narrowing as he watches the couple walk away. He shakes his head, whistling low. “Some men don’t know how to hold their liquor.”
“Or their women,” I grunt.
“Thought for sure you’d punch him,” he chuckles crossing his arms.
“Surprised I didn’t.” Can’t stand to see a woman handled rough. “Tourists. I’ll be happy when ski season is over, and we can go back to what matters.”
“And what’s that? Rescuing horses for you and arresting perps for me? A thankless, endless job.”
“Speaking of jobs, I’m out.” I nod, eyeing the distant, threatening clouds. “Leave now, and I might miss the worst of it.”
The deputy eyes the same sky. “Maybe, though your mares look tired.”
“Long day,” I answer, climbing up into the sleigh. I tip my hat, and Mack waves as the sleigh lurches forward into the rising wind. Five minutes in, and my cheeks burn and sting. The storm blowing in has to be at least ten degrees more frigid than the ambient air.
I pull my scarf up around my mouth, falling into the mindless rhythm of the horses’ hooves crunching through snow.
Minutes fly by, the sky going angry black, clouds burgeoning. Up ahead, a red Toyota 4Runner sits parked along the snowbank.
“Dumbass,” I remark under my breath. Talk about a fine location to get stuck in a blizzard.
Suddenly, a high-pitched voice pierces the silence, and a woman in a puffy purple jacket bursts out of the driver’s side.
“Stop, Trevor,” she hollers, darting for the snowbank.
“Give me my keys!” City slicker emerges from the passenger seat, scrambling through the snow toward the woman.
For God’s sake.
I crack the whip, closing the distance fast. “Gee,” I holler, and they veer right. Then, “Whoa!”
“Leave her alone,” I growl.
But Trevor’s not listening, still in full chase mode. “Allison! Come back here!” he screams.
Not happening. Not today.
I jump down from the sleigh into the snowbank, easily clearing the remaining space between us. Grabbing him by the scruff of his coat, I drag him backward away from Allison. “Leave her the fuck alone!”
Allison gasps, eyes wild.
Trevor whips around, fists first. But he’s drunk as shit, and highly predictable. A quick block and a devastating blow to the jaw later, he sits in the snow, cradling his jaw and raging. “That bitch! That fucking bitch!”
“Another word out of you about the lady, and you’ll wish you didn’t have a tongue.” The words come out low and dangerous. No yelling, no bluster, all promise.
His indigo eyes round. His hand tightens on his bleeding mouth, as if he’s got to clamp it closed to make it behave.
