Cowboy to the Max. Rita Herron

of them had protected each other.

       Another memory splintered through the haze, this one even more painful. The day his daddy had killed his mother.

       Carter had run away as fast as his legs could carry him.

       He shouldn’t have been so selfish. Should have taken his brother with him.

       But his brother had been the golden boy, the one his father loved. It hadn’t occurred to him that his father would vent his rage on him.

       And in the end, he hadn’t had to. His brother had killed himself.

       And here he was back in the same crummy house he’d started in. Only his life had gone to hell. He had a criminal record, the law on his tail and a man who was determined to kill him breathing down his neck.

       He racked his brain trying to recall an image of the man Sadie said he’d fought with in the bar, but those days and nights he’d been in an alcohol-induced blur, and nothing registered.

       Disgusted, he closed his eyes and finally collapsed into a fitful sleep. But sometime later, a noise jarred him awake.

       A car? Footsteps? He scrubbed his hand over his face, disoriented.

       Then a scream pierced the air. A scream that cut through the chilling silence. Sadie’s scream.

       Had the damn bastard found them?

       He grabbed his gun from the dresser, yanked his jeans on, although he didn’t take time to snap them, then raced down the hall.

       He had to get to Sadie.