One
John Everett didn’t usually speed on the ranch. His dad, Cole Everett, who owned the Big Spur ranch in Texas, emphasized careful driving. He didn’t want his prize cattle upset by loud noises. But John was out to save a life. His eyes slid sideways quickly to the king-size pillowcase he’d hurriedly peeled off his bed. Mercedes was going to give him hell when he got home with it. He didn’t care.
The love of his life, Stasia, had reconciled with her ex-husband, John’s older brother, and he was more miserable than he’d ever been in his life. All the long five years that they’d been divorced, John had hoped and hoped that Stasia would look at him and see somebody besides a cuddly big brother-in-law. It had never happened. Now Tanner was back in her life and John’s hopes had evaporated. He didn’t much care what happened to him now. He was just too miserable. He was also too reckless to reconsider what he was about to do.
He was on the hands-free smartphone as he drove. “I don’tgive a damn what Collins says,” he said angrily. “You tell him I said if he fires that gun, he’s history! And I’ll sue him to the back teeth even after he’s fired!”
There was an apologetic voice that could be heard pleading in the background. Evidently, his foreman had his own smartphone on speaker.
“He’s not going to shoot, Mr. Everett,” he was quickly assured. “But what if one of us gets bitten?”
“You’ll make the world records book,” John snapped.
“But, sir...”
“It does no damned good to argue with me. Haven’t you learned that already?” John replied.
There was a long sigh. “Okay. I’ll get everybody to a safe distance. How far away are you?”
He didn’t answer, because he could already see the small circle of cowboys in the near distance. He hung up the phone and stepped on the accelerator. Heads turned quickly. He parked, threw the truck out of gear, cut off the engine and got out, tucking his phone into his jeans pocket as he pulled the pillowcase out of the truck. He was over six feet tall, with blond hair and his father’s pale gray eyes. He was the kind of man other men didn’t like to pick fights with. John was easygoing, usually. Right now, he was anything but easygoing.
“Okay. Where is he?” John asked.
They pointed toward a small patch of grass and moved back a little farther. John approached the thing on the ground easily. There was a sound like sizzling bacon.
John just smiled. “It’s okay, old fellow. You’re safe now. Nobody is going to hurt you.”
There were muffled grumbles in the background. John shot a speaking look at them and they hushed up at once.
He turned back to the victim of all the excitement. The sizzling bacon sound stopped. The animal on the ground liftedits head and sniffed. It relaxed quickly and spread out, moving slowly toward the new scent.
John put the pillowcase on the ground and opened it. He had a hook and he used it. Even the tamest animal was unpredictable when upset. The animal hesitated. “Come on. I’m taking you to the safest place I know,” he said softly. “It’s going to be all right now. Trust me.”
There was another long pause. Slowly, John moved the hook toward the sack, and the animal allowed himself to be eased into the pillowcase. John tied it up and lifted it. He looked at his men with pure disdain, pale blue eyes glittering like summer lightning as they swept among the surrounding faces.
“He doesn’t have any fangs!” he grumbled. “So how’s he going to bite anybody? Poor old thing’s about blind as well. Did you see the rattlers on it? If they really are a measure of age, he’s ancient!”
“Mr. Everett, it’s a rattlesnake,” one of the older hands protested.
“It’s not a rattlesnake. It’s Precious,” John said belligerently.
The cowboy blinked. “Sir?”
“Precious. That’s his name. I’ve already got Sim and Ed building him a room of his own that connects to mine. He’ll never be threatened again.”
“Mercedes has a hatchet in the kitchen,” the foreman said audibly.
“Mercedes isn’t afraid of snakes,” John replied. “She never minded Charlie, my albino python, and he was ten feet long!”
“Pythons and rattlesnakes aren’t the same thing,” someone scoffed.
“They’re both snakes. And they have memory.”
“Memory?”
John stared at the man. “He smelled my breath and recognized me, didn’t he? Otherwise, why would he let me put him right into the bag I was holding?”
Nobody had an answer to that.
