Cowboy Fever Read Online Free PDF

bit.
    He’d meant it when he’d told her to get on with her life all those years ago. He’d known he wouldn’t fit in with her plans. But after she left, he couldn’t stop thinking about her. And somewhere along the way, he’d come up with a crazy plan to get her back.
    He should have known it wouldn’t work.
    Sighing, he stepped into the barn and found a handy target to pin his bad mood on. The stalls were empty, the barn quiet. Troy must not have brought the horses in like he was supposed to. The mares were still out in the pasture, and Rocket was pacing in the paddock, neighing and stamping for his dinner.
    Standing in the middle of the alleyway, Teague took in the silence surrounding him. There was the hum of insects, and the occasional rustle of a summer breeze, but the whole place was way too quiet.
    His anger turned to dread. Where was his brother?
    â€œTroy?” he called, stepping into the barn. “Troy? Where are you, buddy?”
    A shrill whinny from Rocket was his only answer. His panic rising, Teague ran for the house. Mounting the porch steps in two long strides, he swung open the front door.
    â€œTroy? Hey, Troy!”
    No answer.
    He cased the house, poking his head into every room. Troy wasn’t in his bedroom playing Mario on his computer. He wasn’t in the family room watching cartoons. He wasn’t in the kitchen, raiding the pantry for snacks.
    He wasn’t home.
    Teague slouched down on one of the two recliners in the family room and took off his hat, running his fingers through his hair. Maybe Troy had gone into town. He was supposed to ask before he took his bike out, and he was supposed to do his chores first, but he’d been rebellious lately, questioning the rules Teague had set down to keep him safe, pushing for more independence.
    Teague glanced out the window. The door to the shed where Troy kept his bike was wide open, and his helmet was missing from its peg on the wall. He’d gone off somewhere, and probably forgotten the time.
    That, or he’d had an accident. Teague’s stomach clenched as he headed for the phone. He had Sheriff Marty Woodell on speed-dial—not because he needed law enforcement that often, but because, well, because sometimes he needed to talk to the sheriff.
    â€œMead County Sheriff,” Woodell droned into the phone.
    â€œYou seen Troy?” Teague asked.
    â€œNope. And hello to you too. Just ’cause you were raised by wolves doesn’t mean you can’t have manners.”
    â€œSorry. I’m just worried about him,” Teague said.
    The fact that the “raised by wolves” comment made him smile just showed how far he’d come. His parents had cared more about getting drunk and howling at the moon than raising their kids. Matter of fact, the sheriff had been more of a parent to him than either his mom or his dad. His dad’s idea of parenting was to open an occasional can of hundred-proof whoop-ass and pour it out on his kids whenever he felt the urge.
    But the old man was gone—the old lady, too. Now there was just him and Troy. And Troy was missing.
    â€œI came home and Troy’s not here,” he told the sheriff.
    â€œWell, where were you?”
    â€œOut. Around town.”
    â€œThen that’s probably where your brother is too.”
    â€œYeah, well, he didn’t call or anything. So I’m a little worried.”
    â€œYou call and tell him where you went?”
    Teague heaved a hard sigh of exasperation. “Look, I know I’m overprotective. But I can’t help worrying.”
    â€œYou’re like a broody hen,” Woodell said. “You ever think about settling down and having kids? Maybe you need something to take care of.”
    â€œYeah, right,” Teague said. That was the last thing he needed. Troy was enough to take care of.
    He sat down at the little desk between the kitchen and dining room where he paid the bills.