Page 37 of The Cowboy and the Dealer

“If you would do your job, I wouldn’t have to.”

“Iamdoing it,” said Galen, unable to keep his cool and totally confused as to why. “And if you would back off, I can keep on doing it.”

Standing just about in the shade, their new, matching straw cowboy hats tipped back on their heads in identical ways, Toby and Owen looked like they were about to place bets on who would come out on top and be the winner in an argument that was pretty much unwinnable.

Sweat gleamed along Bede’s forehead beneath the brim of his straw hat. His teeth were bared, intense, as though he was stepping back into his role as a drug lord, a kingpin directing his minions to run faster, collect more money, sell more drugs.

Up close, Bede’s skin was warm, dark hair sticking to his temples as his hat flew off. In the bright sunlight, his eyes were dark, fury stirring them even darker.

Up close, the scent of his sweat swirled around Galen, alive, touching him everywhere, soaking into his lungs.

“Just stop,” he said, giving in and poking Bede in the center of his very broad chest. “And don’t do it again.”

“Or what?” snarled Bede, spreading his arms wide as if to make himself look bigger.

Or what? Galen couldn’t back up his threat, and both of them knew it. Of course he could blab about Bede crying in the darkness, though he would never do that, but the instant he thought it, he could see that Bedesawhim think it?—

“Go ahead,” said Bede. “Why don’t you try and lead your team the way they should be led.”

He stepped back, lifting his arm to wave at the pair, Toby and Owen, skulking beneath the shade of the trees.

“Go ahead,” said Bede again, and when Galen tried to step back, thinking to extricate himself that way, Bede’s elbow caught him across the face with a hard clip, and blood spurted from his nose, a hot red spray in the sunlight.

“Shit.” That was all Bede said, as if he hadn’t meant for that to happen. Funny thing was, Galen knew that.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

Galen cupped his hand around his nose, tasting the bitter copper taste in the back of his mouth, on his lips.

Toby and Owen hooted with laughter as they clapped each other on the back. Galen’s hat fell off as he tipped his head back and tried to stop the bleeding that way.

Blood was leaking down his neck, even with his head back, and he couldn’t hold that position for very long or go blind looking up at the sun.

“Fan-fucking-tastic.”

“Hang on,” he heard Bede’s voice say. “Toby, get me water and ice from that chest, and Owen, see if you can’t find some paper towels. I think I saw a roll in the tool shed.”

Bede’s hands were on Galen’s shoulders, steadying him, walking him into the shade so he could tip his head back and not go blind. Strong fingers brushed his hair from his face.

“Why don’t you sit down.”

“Okay, yeah.” Galen sat down, hiding his wince from his fall the night before, and blinked up at the pine boughs above his head. Caught a glimpse of of Bede’s calm expression as he reached to take something from Toby, who had rushed up and screeched to a panting halt.

“Got both, Bede,” Toby said.

“Thanks.”

Then Owen came up and handed something to Bede.

“No paper towels,” he said. “Just this cloth. It looks pretty clean.”

“Okay,” said Bede. “You guys put the tools away. Clean up and get some lunch.”

With mumbled acknowledgments, and clangs of metal shovels and pickaxes, Toby and Owen rushed off.

Now, in the cool shade, Bede’s focus was on Galen, and they were alone.

“Rinse your mouth with this.”