Free Wild on You by Tina Wainscott Page A

extreme. The idea punched her right in the chest. “Carrigan is trying to make me out to be the bad guy! Son of a bitch.”
    “I know you’re upset when you cuss,” Shirley teased, no doubt trying to lighten her mood.
    Remember how Risk had talked her out of her panic attack earlier, she took several breaths. “I think we’ve got all the animals put away. Thanks for everything you did today.”
    “Anything for you, kiddo. Night. Sleep tight with that hunk of yours.”
    “I’m not sleeping with him!” Addie whispered as Shirley headed out the other end of the barn. Shirley just shook her head as she exited. Addie turned back toward Risk, who was maneuvering the last goat into the corral. “Need some help?”
    “I’ve got it, thanks.”
    “I’ll be in the barn when you’re done.” She made one last pass down the long, wide walkway in the center to be sure the animals were tucked in properly, whispering good night to each one. She paused by Rolling Stone’s stall. “Your mane is all tangled, big guy. Let’s give you a quick brush-out.”
    Footsteps on the hard-packed dirt drew her gaze to Risk, who was coming up the middle of the walkway, silhouetted by the fading light behind him. He had a slight swagger, like a cowboy who’d been wrangling colts all day.
    “Everything’s away,” he said, coming up beside her. “I saw Shirley heading out.”
    “Yeah, she lives in a double-wide on the other side of the ranch. Setting up her home here made sense. She’s always on hand.” At the time, she’d needed a place to stay.
    Risk glanced around. “You have boo-coops of animals here.”
    “Boo-coops? Is that supposed to be French?”
    He chuckled. “It’s as exotic as I get, language-wise, other than some dirty words in Arabic.” He inhaled deeply. “I always loved the smell of wood and fresh hay. Reminds me of hanging out in the barn.”
    “With the animals?” she asked, thinking it must be a pleasant memory, to judge by the soft smile on his face.
    “More specifically, without my father. We had a couple of cows, and it was my job to feed them. They were nice animals.” He watched as she stroked the horse. “Is this one of your stolen animals?”
    “No.” She gave him a mock-insulted look. “I don’t steal all of them. Most, like Rolling Stone here, I got through, ah, gentle persuasion. Some people aren’t intentionally cruel. They just can’t manage what they have and don’t know how to ask for help. Or maybe no one’s ever taken care of them, so they don’t know how to take care of others.”
    “You have a big heart, Addie.”
    His tender words made that heart step up a beat. She focused on the horse. “It took a while for Rolling Stone to trust me. We connect through food and gentle touch.” She took Risk’s hand and ran it along the horse’s neck. She felt odd holding his hand … and nice. “Tell me about your dad. Did he hit you a lot?”
    She watched his expression close right up. “Addie—”
    Her phone dinged, and she fought the compulsion to look at it. That particular tone meant a Facebook post.
    “You’d better check that,” he said. Discussion over. “Might be our guys posting a threat.”
    She checked her Facebook app. One of her supporters had sent her an e-mail. “You’re on the news. And you’re not going to like it.”
    Addie pulled up the Internet and then the local news station’s website. Risk sidled up next to her, leaning in close. He had an earthy scent, which made sense, since he’d rolled in the dirt.
    The attractive female journalist started the news footage. “The saga between Carrigan’s Zoo and Addie Wunder continues. The activist who founded Animal Huggers has launched protests at the zoo’s last four locations. While Carrigan has been cited by the USDA in the past for violations of animal care and improper medical care, his record has been clear for the last year.”
    “That’s because they haven’t been checking on him,” Addie