Cowboy Fever Read Online Free

left it to her and only her, knowing she loved it like he did. He’d been sure she’d someday build a future for herself out of the bare patch of arid acreage they’d called home. He knew she was a girl who kept her promises.
    But Teague didn’t know that. She remembered what he’d said in the drugstore. You don’t always keep your promises. He was wrong. She tilted her chin defiantly, as if he stood right in front of her. She did keep her promises. She’d dare him to come up with one she’d broken. What the hell could he be…
    Oh.
    She thought back to the summer she’d turned fourteen.
    Dang. He was right. She had broken a promise that year—but at fourteen, kissing Teague Treadwell just because she’d lost a horse race had seemed like a dangerous idea.
    Matter of fact, it still did.
    But hey, she’d actually kept that promise. It had just taken a while, that’s all. She’d kissed Teague, and then some, on her last day in Purvis. She’d done one hell of a job of saying good-bye.
    She’d been smarter when she was fourteen.
    She glanced out the passenger side window at a battered trailer crouched in a grove of cottonwoods just off the road. Chez Treadwell was still standing, but it was obvious that Teague had moved out and moved on. Once white, it had rusted so thoroughly it seemed almost a part of the landscape. One end of the roof was curled up as if some cosmic can opener had cranked it back, and someone had put a couple of old tires on top to hold it down.
    On a whim, she turned into the overgrown drive. Not much grew on the arid Wyoming plains, but what few plants could work their roots into the rocky soil had sprouted in the driveway, almost obliterating the dirt two-track. Wincing as weeds raked the truck’s undercarriage, she slid to a stop and shut down the engine, then climbed out and whisked through the weeds that had taken over the scrubby front yard.
    She climbed the rickety steps to the front door, remembering how Teague’s father had called the front stoop his “office.” He’d spent every evening there, drinking beer from a grubby cooler and surveying his ramshackle domain. He’d talk big about heading out to check on his cattle—all three of them—or wax eloquent on his plans to delve into one of the half-dozen rusting vehicles that moldered in the yard, some up on concrete blocks, others tilting as drunkenly as their owner on half-inflated tires.
    Passing the ghost of Mr. Treadwell, she cupped her hands around her eyes and peered into the door’s smudged window. She wouldn’t have been surprised to see a ghost, but when an actual human face swam into view on the other side of the glass, she screamed and stumbled backward down the steps, her heart thumping so fast it made her dizzy.
    â€œJodi!” The door swung open to reveal a plump, pretty woman with short black hair standing up in sleep-inspired spikes. “You’re back!”
    â€œCissy.” Jodi put one hand to her chest and sucked in a deep, deep breath, trying to return her heartbeat to a normal rate. “You surprised me.”
    Cissy didn’t seem to notice her distress. “Come on in!” She waved her hand impatiently, but then her smile faded as she leaned out of the door and glanced right and left. “How did you find me? Who told you I was here?”
    â€œNobody. I-I just…” Jodi ducked her head and examined the toes of her shoes.
    â€œYou didn’t know, did you?” Cissy grinned. “You were looking for Teague.”
    â€œNo, I found Teague,” Jodi said. “Saw him at the drugstore. I was just—I don’t know.”
    â€œYou were just taking a stroll down Memory Lane,” Cissy teased.
    â€œI guess.” Jodi climbed the steps and gave her old friend a hug. Cissy had been a member of her Rodeo Queen Court—first runner up. Jodi would never have guessed she’d