“We’ll get by.”
He jumped to his feet, the passion in his voice raising it half an octave. “We’re going to Monterrey. I won’t take no for an answer.”
She watched him storm off into the night, smiling to herself. Fonzo liked to announce everything, as if he made all the decisions. But in truth, she had intended to point the wagons that way in the morning anyway. Maybe Monterrey would turn out like they hoped, but that was the thing about being Roma and circus people. The next place down the road was always the same thing as hope.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Some folks are just born to tell tall tales. BRETT COGBURN was reared in Texas and the mountains of southeastern Oklahoma. He was fortunate enough for many years to make his living from the back of a horse, where on cold mornings cowboys still straddled frisky broncs and dragged calves to the branding fire on the end of a rope from their saddle horns. Growing up around ranches, livestock auctions, and backwoods hunting camps filled Brett’s head with stories, and he never forgot a one. In his own words: “My grandfather taught me to ride a bucking horse, my mother gave me a love of reading, and my father taught me how to hunt my own meat and shoot straight. Cowboys are just as wild as they ever were, and I’ve been damn lucky to have known more than a few.” The West is still teaching him how to write. Brett Cogburn lives in Oklahoma with his family. Learn more at www.brettcogburn.com.
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