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Much of the hands waved off Rid’s praise of his lover. If Dale wasn’t sitting on Brandy, he’d probably be strutting around Rid like a damn peacock.

“Oh yeah.” Fox smirked. “And how old was he when they removed the ‘roping’ part?”

Bull’s explosive laughter always made Fox’s chest do funny things, and while he’d tried to keep a straight face through his joke, it was hard not to join in on the hilarity. When Bull laughed… they all did.

Well, all except Dale.

“That was a good one.” Garvin laughed.

“Oh shit,” Bull mumbled, his grin tapering off.

Fox glanced behind him just in time to see Dale charging towards the gate with his lasso swinging masterfully over his head. “Fuck.” Fox leapt down off the last rung and took off, but he didn’t get more than five steps when Dale’s loop whipped over his head and cinched his arms to his side. Fox spun around and saw Brandy had closed in on him like a sprint horse, standing less than twenty feet from the fence.

“He’s not fuckin’ cattle, Dale, let him go,” Bull ordered, but Dale jerked harder on the spoke, almost knocking Fox off his feet.

Fox squirmed and tugged, but it only made the knot tighter. Dale returned Fox’s smirk, the bastard, enjoying turning the ridicule on him, because surely he looked like a fool trying not to get dragged on his ass. Bull’s staff could hardly contain themselves as Dale made his horse skirt left and right, yanking Fox with him, making him have to perform some dramatic acrobatics to stay on his feet.

“Dale, knock it off.” Bull snorted, trying to hide his own grin.

“I guess your Fox isn’t as fast as he thinks he is, Big Bull.”

Fox had never done well with being the sucker, and his pride wouldn’t allow Dale to make an ass of him.

With his elbows pinned at his side, Fox was still able to crouch and pull his pocketknife from his boot. He’d already flipped open the sharp blade when he stood, so he didn’t register the panic on Bull and Garvin’s face until he’d slashed clean through the stiff rope just above the knot and triumphantly flicked the piece that’d been around his waist to the ground.

“Ha!” Fox whooped, still clutching his sleek chrome blade. He held his arms out wide and turned in a full circle as if he’d pulled off a magic trick worthy of Houdini’s praise. “I am uncatchable, Dale.” I am the Fox! He laughed with triumph. His grin spread from ear to ear because like always, he’d outsmarted his opponent.

Therefore, he blamed his silly ego for taking him so long to register that the staff was no longer laughing. Fox swallowed as he took in their alarmed faces. What the fuck? Fox began to lower his arms as he realized everyone had gone stone silent; not even the animals were moving as if even they could sense the imminent danger. Fox cut his eyes to Bull, not knowing what was happening now. We were all joking… right?

“Jesus Christ, Fox.” Bull shook his head. “You never fuckin’ cut a cowboy’s rope.”

“You might as well have cut the man’s heart out, Fox,” Marcy said, “I’m gonna haul ass back to the office now. I’d prefer not to be a witness to a crime.”

Fox glanced at Dale and saw him staring mortified at the slack rope hanging uselessly in his hands, as if it was a slaughtered baby lamb. Fox ground his molars together, not believing any of this shit. “Oh fuck that. Bull, don’t even think about quoting me another uncommon, unbelievable-ass cowboy regulation. How am I sup—”

“Ummm. I think you better just run, Fox,” Garvin said, inching away from the fence now, along with all of the other hands, as if they were giving Dale room.

Rid was holding on to Brandy’s harness with one hand, while stroking Dale’s thigh with the other as if he was trying to talk him down. Which didn’t appear to be working as Dale’s chin rose from where it’d been tucked to his chest, his murderous glare slowly coming into view beneath the wide brim of his hat. Fox’s breath caught in his throat as green eyes flashed with a fury that reminded him of someone who had his fight-or-flight response activating.

“Dale,” Bull growled, his voice low. “Don’t.”

“Fox, run!” Shannon yelled, and Fox bolted, just as Brandy charged towards the opening of the gate.

“Close it! Close the gate!” Fox heard Bull yelling behind him, but Fox didn’t turn to see if it worked because he could still feel Brandy’s hooves pounding the ground.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Fox panted as he bolted past more concerned but mostly amused staff.

“You better go!”

“Here he comes!”

“He’s right on your ass, Fox!” was shouted out by multiple people

There was no way he was about to test if Dale was serious or not—but he sure as shit looked serious. Fox ran around the side of the barn and skidded to a stop at the opening. The non-slackers that were inside doing their work stopped throwing bedding into the horse stalls to stare at him as if he was insane.

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