The Maverick of Copper Creek by R.C. Ryan Page B

were on their feet and crossing the room just as Luther clawed at the strong hands around his throat and managed to break free. Sucking in air he slid off his bar stool and threw a punch that landed directly in Whit’s face.
    Blood spurted from Whit’s nose, though he took no notice through the haze of fury that had him returning the punch with one of his own.
    The cowboy seated beside Luther tossed a mug of beer in Whit’s face, momentarily blinding him.
    That had Brady locking an arm around the cowboy’s throat before he could pick up another drink to toss.
    Against his ear Brady swore. “This is between Luther and Whit. You keep it a fair fight, or you’ll answer to me.”
    Luther took that moment to bring his knee into Whit’s groin. “See how you like that, tough guy.”
    As Whit crumpled to the floor, Luther stood over him with a sneer. “Maybe you’d better ask the bastard to come over and fight your battles for you.”
    Griff fisted a hand, ready to jump in, but Ash held him back. “Let’s let my little brother fight his own battle, as long as it’s fair.”
    While they watched, Whit caught Luther by the ankle and dragged him down.
    When Luther fell, two of his buddies leaped into the fray.
    Ash nodded at Griff. “Now it’s not fair. But we’ll even those odds.”
    Ash threw his first punch, and it was all Griff and Brady needed to join him.
    Fists were flying, and bodies dropping so quickly, it looked like half the town of Copper Creek had suddenly joined the free-for-all.
    Above the din Griff shouted, “Anybody wants to take on the bastard, here I am. And in case any of you are still wondering, I am Bear MacKenzie’s son. And damned proud of it.”
    Somebody threw a full bottle of beer at Griff’s head. He managed to duck, and it landed on the floor, sending shards of glass and foaming beer everywhere.
    A table was overturned, and a chair went flying through the air.
    Cowboys were hauling their women safely outside before joining the fight. Except for Brenna and Nonie, there weren’t any females left in the place.
    Chris Revel caught Brenna’s hand and started leading her toward the door, hoping they could escape the brawl as quickly as possible.
    They were nearly at the door when Brenna spotted Luther, bleeding from his head, picking up an empty bottle. He broke it on the edge of the bar and, with the lethal weapon in his hand, started across the room toward Ash, who was busy fighting off two of Luther’s drunken buddies.
    â€œAsh!” Brenna was desperate to be heard above the roar.
    As she started forward, Chris caught her roughly by the arm. “Don’t be stupid. We have to get out of here.”
    â€œOh, don’t you see? Ash can’t hear me.” She shook off the offending hand and dashed across the room just as Luther raised his arm.
    â€œAsh. Behind you!”
    At Brenna’s warning, Ash turned and landed a fist in Luther’s throat.
    The bottle fell to the floor while Luther dropped to his knees, struggling for breath.
    â€œThanks, Bren…”
    Out of the corner of his eye Ash saw a cowboy tossing a chair. Wrapping his arms around Brenna, Ash dragged her to the floor and fell on top of her, hoping to absorb the brunt of the blow.
    The chair grazed his shoulder before slamming into the wall beside them.
    For several moments they lay in a tangle of arms and legs, heartbeats thundering, their breaths shuddering.
    Ash lifted his head just enough to brush his lips over her ear. “Seems to me we were in this same position earlier today.” Despite the pain that shot up his arm from the flying chair, he managed a quick, sexy grin. “I think we’ve got to quit meeting like this.”
    â€œHow can you make a joke when you were nearly knocked unconscious?” Brenna’s words were whispered against Ash’s cheek.
    At the mere brush of her lips on his