Cowboy Fever by Joanne Kennedy Page A

wrung it out.
    â€œIt’s electric fence, not barbed wire,” she said. “And it’s turned off. I gave him gloves too.” She ran the mop across the floor of the trailer in short, angry swipes.
    He stepped up into the small space, filling the doorway, stooping so his hat wouldn’t brush the ceiling. Jodi could stand straight up in it and then some. She’d forgotten how tall he was.
    â€œIt’s nice of you to give him a job,” he said grudgingly. “I hope he’s not too much trouble.”
    â€œI didn’t hire him to be nice,” Jodi said sharply. She dipped the mop into the water and wrung it out again, letting a few drops spatter onto Teague’s polished boots. He stepped back and she mopped the place where he’d stood. “I needed somebody, and I trust Troy. Besides, he wanted a job. He’s a grown man now, right?”
    Teague nodded. “I know, I know. But you need to keep an eye on him. He could get hurt.”
    She concentrated on her job, refusing to look up at him. “Of course he could get hurt,” she said. “So could I.”
    â€œYou just need to look out for him. That’s all I’m saying.”
    â€œI look out for him, Teague. I love your brother dang near as much as you do, you know.”
    â€œI know. He was always your favorite.”
    Jodi kept mopping, keeping her head down so Teague couldn’t see her smother a smile. “You jealous or what?”
    â€œNo.” Teague shifted his weight from one foot to the other and looked away. “I just think giving him a job is a bad idea.”
    Jodi shoved the mop back into the bucket, gave it a final rinse, then leaned it up against the wall beside the broom. “Why?”
    â€œIt just is.”
    She looked up at him, a challenge in her eyes. “Because he only works for you?”
    â€œBecause I’m the only one who really understands him.”
    Jodi grabbed the bucket and carried it to the door, tossing it out in a wide wet fan across the dry ground. “Teague, I understand him. I’ve spent the last four years getting a degree in special ed, remember? I’m dedicating my life to helping people like Troy.” She hung the bucket on a hook, then turned. “What are you dedicating your life to?” She looked him up and down and quirked a faint smile. “Fashion?”
    He frowned, hitching up his belt self-consciously. “I’m dedicating it to Troy. You know that.”
    â€œYeah, and that’s a lot easier to do if he never leaves the house, right?” She softened her tone. “I know it’s hard, Teague. But he needs a life of his own. He needs validation, a purpose—just like anyone else.”
    â€œI give him a good life,” Teague protested.
    â€œMaybe he doesn’t want you to give it to him,” she said. “Maybe he wants to earn it.”
    â€œMaybe he… What was that?”
    It was Troy. Jodi heard it too—a faint wail coming from across the pasture, followed by a barrage of sharp barks from Luna. She jumped off the trailer behind Teague and took off across the field, ducking through the fencing as he vaulted over.
    On the far side of the field, Troy was crouched on the ground, his hands over his face.
    Dang , Jodi thought. Maybe Teague was right. Maybe I should have watched him closer.

Chapter 13
    Teague swore to himself as his foot slipped on a cow patty and he almost went down. Scrambling for balance, he kept running, headed for the spot where his brother was kneeling in the grass beside the fence.
    He’d known this was a bad idea. What if the wire had snapped and hit Troy in the eye? What if he’d cut himself? He slid to a stop and fell to his knees as he reached Troy, pulling his brother’s hands gently away from his face.
    â€œWhat happened, bud? You okay?”
    â€œI—I’m fine.” Troy looked up at him and Teague winced. A slash of red stood