Austin’s horse, Jubilee, isn’t even fully whoa’d up yet and he’s leaping to the ground. Dust clouds around where he lands, and he strides toward us with a fire in his eyes. “You okay, darlin’?” he calls out to me. I give him a shaky, uncertain nod. I think I’m okay. Then he turns and says, “You KJ?” And Austin, my fucking cowboy, smashes his fist straight into KJ’s nose.
