Page 86 of Winning His Wager

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Page 86 of Winning His Wager

Either result was possible.

She just kept hoping that she was going to get lucky tonight, and that she hadn’t used up all the get-out-of-trouble-free cards she’d collected just in the last few months alone.

Shewantedto build a life with her cranky cowboy.

Shewantedhalf a dozen Fletcherlings.

She wanted to teach people in Masterson County how to fly cowboy drones.

She wanted to watch all of her sisters get married and have baby Talleylings too. She wanted tofixthings with her dad and tell the old poophead she loved him again.

Dylan wasn’t about to give up yet. Dylan wasnevergoing to give up.

She was getting back to Fletcher and her family, and nothing was going to stop her.

Dylan slipped into the barn, the biggest one—it seemed like it would be the best place to find decent hiding places, after all.

And fell to the hardpacked mud floor. Mud that covered bricks or something. Concrete.

Shefeltthe bone in her arm crack when she landed on it. Dylan rolled to her side and puked from the pain. She stayed on the ground probably far longer than she should.

Dylan forced herself to her feet. She had tohide.

Until Fletcher came for her. She knew he was coming—she checked her watch as she pressed the button to get some sort of light. There was no cell signal where she was or internet, but she had light.

Her sisters had always had her back, after all.

Dylan stepped deeper into the darkness.

74

He was on his way.He wanted to shout that, but Fletcher kept quiet. He wanted to text her but Ben had told him not to, that if someone heard her watch singing Jilly Silly, it could put her in danger. If she was hiding… He hoped she had found a place to hide. To wait for him to get to her. She knew he was coming for her. She had to know he was coming for her. That he always would.

Fletcher and his brother, his cousins, his uncles, and his friends, just crept closer. He had grown up in the Wyoming wilderness, running wild with Ben and Gil and the rest of those Wild Tyler Boys everyone had always complained about. Fletcher had hunted in these very woods, had fished in the nearby river. He could make his way through the darkness.

She was counting on him. He wasn’t going to let her down.

Ben touched him on the arm. “Brandt just texted there is a truck pulling in. Driving erratically. Four men inside. He thinks they may be armed. He said he thinks he saw at least one rifle. They were already past the checkpoints before we got here. Holton couldn’t stop them on horseback. Too risky.”

Brandt and Clint had circled around to a small hill where they could look down on the ranch house. Derrick and one of his brothers were watching the driveway now. Nick and the rest of Fletcher’s family were spread out, trying to form a circle around the house. The plan was to hem Bruce in—and get Dylan back.

Somehow.

Clint, Ben, Nick, Phil, and Martin each carried a rifle. No one was going to shoot unless they absolutely had to. But they were getting Dylan back.

“We need to hurry. She can’t defend herself against six men.” Terror threatened to bring him to his knees. Fletcher just kept going.

75

Will grabbed Abby.“Get to the car. I’m getting Dad.”

“And Mr. Rutherford. Bruce Tyler hurt him badly,” Abby said, almost sobbing. This time, her crying was from fear and pain not selfish bitchiness like it usually was. Will didn’t like his sister one damned bit, but she was hissister. He wasn’t going to truly let anything happen to her. He just wasn’t. “Go. Get to the car. Stay down.”

“Who is that coming?”

“That’s Toby and probably a few other guys. Hayden too.” Guys he knew. Guys he trusted. “I told them about Bruce and they are wanting to take him down. Just get out of their way. Stay out of their way, no matter what.”

Will nudged his sister toward Braelyn’s car. “Go.”




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