Cowboy Crushin' (Dalton Boys Book 3) Read Online Free Page A

his throat, but Momma cut him off.
    “Don’t give me that act, Witt Dalton. We do our parts in this community, and today that is providing those kids with a bit of fun.”
    “But branding cows is more important.” Why was he arguing with her? He wasn’t going to win. Maggie Dalton had an ornery husband and five boys. She knew how to get them to do her bidding.
    She smiled up at him and placed a hand on his forearm. “It will only take a few hours from your day.”
    “An hour drive each way and I never can pry those kids away from the animals.”
    “Take a basket of apples with you so they have something to feed them.” She was moving away, back to her duties, and his arguments were futile.
    He heaved a sigh and poked his head back into the kitchen. “Manny, you’ll have to take Beck with you today. I’ve got something else to do.”
    Kade whooped. “Momma roped him into taking the animals to school.”
    He settled a glare on his brother. “I’m pretty good with rope, Kade. Don’t get too cocky or you’ll find yourself hogtied in the back with the animals.”
    Laughter broke out and another sausage was launched at him. He plucked it off the floor and stuffed it in his mouth to more rowdy cries. Then he went outside to fight two sheep, three goats, a piglet and a barn cat into the trailer. The donkey gave him some trouble until he leaned a shoulder into its rump and shoved him up the ramp.
    He stood back and considered adding another piglet to the mix then couldn’t be bothered. “Let’s get this over with,” he muttered.
    When the kids poured out of the school doors into the parking lot and saw the animals he’d corralled in the playground, he forgot about ranch work and enjoyed their happy squeals of delight.
    He showed a couple little girls how to pick up the piglet and hold it so it didn’t squirm and fall. He took out his pocket knife and sliced apple until his hands were sticky.
    From across the yard, he saw the donkey’s ears flip up as a young boy approached. Witt strode toward the boy, prepared to deal with the stubborn animal if it got stroppy and anti-social.
    Witt intercepted the boy. “That donkey’s name is Kiser.”
    “I like that name. Is he a nice donkey?”
    Witt looked into the boy’s face—warm brown eyes and a dimple in his chin. He also had a red Kool-Aid mustache. He smiled and handed the boy some apple.
    “Let me show you how to feed Kiser. Donkey teeth are big, and you don’t want him to nip you.”
    “Does he like apples?”
    “Better than anything. In fact, we have to pen him up during the apple harvest because he’ll eat every apple he can reach off our trees.”
    “Really?” He craned his neck and turned the apple slice over in his hands.
    “Yup. Hold it like this, flat on your palm. Keep your fingers tight together. This way.” He demonstrated. The boy imitated him. “Now hold out your hand and see if Kiser comes close enough to take it.”
    When the donkey clomped across the turf and pulled his lips back to take the apple, the boy giggled. “It tickles!”
    “And he’s slimed you. Here.” Witt fished his hanky from his back pocket and wiped the boy’s hand clean.
    “I want to give him another piece.”
    “Okay.” He provided him more apple slices and the boy fed them to Kiser.
    “What’s your name?”
    “Witt. What’s yours?”
    “Alex.” He grinned a split second before he threw himself forward and wrapped his wiry little body around Kiser’s leg.
    Witt’s heart convulsed but the animal didn’t move a muscle. No kicks or head-butts. He just stood there and allowed the child’s hug as if he did this every day instead of terrorizing the other farmyard animals.
    A noise sounded behind Witt and he glanced over his shoulder to see Shelby standing there, hands plastered to her mouth and eyes spilling over with tears.
    Adrenaline tipped into Witt’s veins and he swung back to make sure Alex was safe. He was, arms wound around the donkey’s leg