The Fifth Season Read Free Page B

Run. Her heart swelled to near bursting at the thought of not having to leave the ranch.
    A loud curse and panicked squeal spurred Emma out of her daydreams and into a dead run. She raced up the hill, the goats grunting happily as they nipped at her heels. Hurdling the white picket fence outside the master bedroom, she darted through the open French doors and discovered what she’d feared.
    Stone, crouched in a fighter’s stance, waved a malicious looking knife at the one thing she valued more than River Run.

 
     
    Chapter Two
     
     
    Small, beady eyes flared with rage. Stone shuffled sideways, careful not to make any aggressive movements.
    “Easy, boy…nice pig.”
    It moved closer and snarled, displaying an amazing amount of jagged, yellow teeth. Stone made a quick survey of the room. He didn’t want to inflict too much damage, but if the pig charged he’d be forced to go for the jugular. Blood would be everywhere.
    “Put that knife away, Mr. Connor,” Emma O’Malley demanded, pushing in front of the rabid, walking roast and glaring fiercely at him. He didn’t know what to do first. Kill the pig or kill the pain-in-the-butt-know-it-all resort manager.
    “Get back, Ms. O’Malley. I know what I’m doing.” He crouched lower as Porkchop snarled louder.
    “She’s not dangerous. Put your weapon away.”
    “I don’t think so, ma’am. That hunk’o’ham’s about to make me the laughing stock of Jackson Hole.”
    “You’re right about that. It doesn’t take much of a man to kill a defenseless old pig.”
    His eyes widened when the woman actually knelt down and wrapped her arms around the ugly round critter. This was certainly no Wilbur. Its hide was covered with gray, bristly hair and a layer of green slime decorated its snout. By her actions, it was clear Emma O’Malley loved this disgusting creature.
    Snapping his knife shut, he listened as she spoke in a honey tone of soothing words that spread a disquieting flicker of sensation down his spine.
    “I was referring to the fact that I’d make the front page news as being the first human to ever die from a rabid pig,” he said, straightening up and backing further away from the odd couple sitting in the middle of his bedroom.
    The woman turned watery green eyes in his direction, causing a lump to form at the back of his throat. She looked sad, as if someone had yanked the world right out from beneath her milk and honey perfection.
    “Pocahontas isn’t rabid. In fact, she thinks you’re the intruder here. The only thing she did wrong was assume that this was my room.”
    “And is it?” Stone concentrated on maintaining a straight face and not responding to the pig’s name. Who in their right mind would name an ugly, old pig Pocahontas?
    “Is what?”
    “Is this your room?” He frowned as she continued to croon softly and stroke the pig’s side.
    “Not anymore,” she sighed. “It seems River Run is under new management.”
    “Oh for cryin’ out loud, I already told you that your stay here has been expanded to a year. How long will it take you to find a new place and a new job?”
    “Forever,” she said. Without so much as a see-ya-later, Emma O’Malley stood up, shuffled the filet of flesh out the door and exited the suite. He swore the three-hundred-pound pork chop smirked at him before disappearing around the corner.
    Stone stood within the silent confines of the master suite. Running his fingers through his mop of hair, he suddenly realized the enormity of what’d been handed him.
    He didn’t want to be responsible. The bullet that tore through his upper torso more than a year ago left a bigger emotional scar than the visible puckered skin around his shoulder.
    Inability to make decisions.
    No longer a leader.
    Scared of Death.
    But not scared to die. Oh no, he wasn’t scared to die. In fact, he’d tried to stay with his men...die with them. But that damn baby was pushed into his arms, and he’d made a dash for safety, leaving