Reckless: a book tied to the Cotton Creek Saga (Shattered 1)

by Ciana Stone

“You make that look so easy, and it's anything but,” he said as she stopped on the other side of the fence from him.

  “It's as easy as the horse wants it to be. You just have to find a way to connect. And this is the best time for us to work together, when things are quiet, and the day is fading away. He likes it. So do I.”

  “Yeah, I can see that. You going to brush him down and put him in for the night?”

  “I am. I'll be done soon.”

  “How about I give you a hand?”

  “Really?” She seemed genuinely surprised.

  “I do remember how to brush a horse.”

  “I have no doubt. Just didn't think you were much interested anymore. It's rare you pay a visit.”

  He realized how true her words were. Morgan was so capable of running the ranch and her vet business that he rarely offered a hand or did much of anything on the ranch. He paid attention to his business and...

  And that was about it, he realized. The house, the ranch, her business–it was all on her, and she dealt with it with no complaints. Suddenly, Cord felt like far less of a good husband than he had an hour ago.

  “I'm sorry.”

  “For what?” She looked confused.

  “For not doing more.”

  “You have a business to run.”

  “So do you.”

  “Yes, but that's different.”

  “How?”

  She reached up to pet the horse who'd followed and was nuzzling her arm. “What you do is important. To a lot of people. Not just your clients, but the people who work with you. They and their families depend on your company and its success for their livelihood. So, you have to pay attention to it. A lot rides on it.

  “And besides,” she added with a smile. “I'm so proud of all you've accomplished, Cord. When we first met, I listened to your dreams, and I wished so hard for them to come true. I watched you working your ass off here and for others, writing code all day and cleaning stalls at night, all the while never missing a ball game or music recital or event at school for the kids. You've given so much to us, and you didn't ask for anything in return. You deserve to have someone put you first, too.”

  If he'd been a man given to displays of emotions, he might have cried. “I couldn't have done any of it without you. It was you who picked up all the slack, doing twice the work so I could pursue my dreams. Don't think for a moment I don't know that.”

  “Then we make a hell of a team, don't we, Cord Alexander?” She smiled at him.

  “We sure as hell do, Morgan Windwalker. Now what do you say we get this big boy settled for the night, and then you and I have a nice night swim, and I'll cook you a fat steak on the grill.”

  “Sounds like a deal too good to pass up.” She reached up to take hold of the horse's bridle. “I'm thinking of calling him Ebon.”

  “Which means?” Cord opened the gate for her.

  She smiled. “Black.”

  “Works for me. Did you ask him?”

  Morgan looked up at the horse. “Ebon? Does that work for you, big guy?”

  When the horse snorted, Cord laughed. “Is that a yes or no?”

  “Definitely a yes.”

  They walked Ebon into the stable and to a clean stall. Morgan racked him up while Cord got the grooming tools. They worked together in silence and Cord found himself relaxing. By the time she asked him to hand her the hoof-pick, he was feeling the most at ease he had been in well over a week.

  Cord gathered up the brushes and cloths and put them into the kit. While Morgan cleaned Ebon's hooves, he took the kit to the storage room, put the cloth into the basket marked "to be washed" and then made his way back to where Morgan was finishing up.

  He watched in silence. She might be a small woman, but she was as capable as any man and far better with animals than anyone he'd ever known. Only their son, Trevor, came close to being almost as good and Cord wondered if one day Trevor might not join his mother working with animals and running the ranch.

  She straightened and saw him watching. “What're you thinking?”

  “About Trevor. He's a lot like you. Good with animals. Loves working the ranch. Are we wrong to demand he go to college?”

  “No, I don't think so, but I think we should let him decide what he wants to pursue in terms of a field of study. If he chose to become a vet, I'd love to work with him, and if he chose animal husbandry, I think he'd turn out to be a first-class breeder, but whatever he chooses, I just want it to be something he's passionate about because that's where the real happiness comes from.”

  “You're a smart cookie.”

  She gave Ebon a final pat. “See you tomorrow, big guy.” Then she turned to Cord. “Would you top off his food and water while I clean the pick and my hands?”

  “Sure.”

  Five minutes later they were headed for the house. Cord reached over to take Morgan's hand. “Thanks.”

  “For what?”

  “This. Sometimes I forget that I love it here, love the work.”

  “You love it when you don't have to do it. If you had to do it every day, you'd hate it, just like you did your folks' ranch.”

  He smiled at her. “You're probably right. I wasn't much of a cowboy, was I?”

  “Oh, I don't know. You sit a horse well, know all you need to know about ranching and damn sure look good in jeans.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Hell yeah. Almost as good as you look without them.”

  Cord swung her around to him, picked her up and as she wound her legs around his waist, he claimed a kiss. “Umm,” she murmured against his lips as the kiss ended. “Time to get you to the house and out of those jeans, cowboy.”

  “You read my mind.”

  By the time they reached the back deck, Cord was stripping out of his shirt and toeing off his boots. Morgan hopped on one foot, yanking off a boot and by the time she had both off, Cord was naked and helping her get that way.

  He swept her up in his arms and into the pool they went. She kicked away, swam the length of the pool and surfaced beneath the diving board. Cord followed, and when he reached her, she wound herself around him, arms and legs.

  A few kisses later and he was ready to move to the next step. “Shallow end.”

  “Race ya,” she challenged and kicked off.

  Cord knew he could beat her, but he loved watching her swim beneath the water. With her dark hair streaming out behind her, she looked like a mermaid come to life. He followed and found her waiting, sitting on the steps watching.

  “God, I love watching you come up out of the water,” she said as he drew near. She reached for his hand, and he pulled her into his arms.

  Some people would call it silly, but Cord thought of it as something akin to magic the way her kiss and the feel of her pressed against him could make him feel like a young man again. He scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the oversized round lounge on the covered patio.

  When he put her down, she grabbed a towel and started drying him off. Her administrations were more foreplay than function, her mouth followed the path of the towel, and by the time she tossed the towel aside, he had no mind for anything but to be inside her.

  “Slow down, cowboy,” she protested when he tried to initiate that desire. “We have all night.”

  All night. He liked the sound of that.

  A lot.

  *****

  The sky had not yet started to lighten when Cord woke. Morgan lay beside him with her head on his chest, one arm and one leg was thrown across his body. The cool of the night air gave him a bit of a chill, so he pulled the spread up over them and heard a contented little hum from Morgan. Cord lay there with one arm around her, watching the stars and thinking about all that had happened lately, and all that had led him and Morgan to this moment.

  As curious as he was about the missing waste, her arguments for him not sticking his nose into the investigation were sound. The site showing a shortage was one he'd not been involved with in the setup or install
ation of the system, either physical or software. Based on that fact alone, he should not accept or even feel responsibility. In fact, his contract with the government said explicitly that he was in no way responsible for any present or future site in which he or his company was not involved in the design or construction of the physical structure. The same held true for the implementation of equipment and software licensing his design if installation and implementation was not conducted under his or his company's guidance.

  Morgan was right. He knew that. It was just hard to say aloud, and harder still, to accept and do nothing. But that's what he was going to do. He'd focus on the current projects on his plate, start paying more attention to the ranch and to his family and all would be right with the world.

  “Wow, you look like you just chewed something rotten. What's wrong?”

  “Nothing. No that's not true. I was trying to find a way to tell you that you're right. About me trying to solve the mystery of the missing waste.”

  “I'm not trying to be right. I just want you to be safe, and I hate it when you're away.”

  “So do I.”

  “And I have a little confession,” she added. “Something that's been nagging at me since we got back from Washington.”

  “What?”

  Morgan sat up and pulled a corner of the spread around her body. “Before I went to Washington, I went to see Myrtle and Joe, and I fell asleep on the front porch. I guess the stress and no sleep got to me. Anyway, I had this really horrible dream.

  “I was in this old warehouse, and there were two men fighting. One of them killed the other, and when the man fell, I could see his face. It...it was you. I woke up screaming.”

  Cord put his hand on her knee and squeezed. “It was just a dream. Subconscious fears playing with your mind.”

  “Perhaps, but it left me feeling very anxious and then all that crap in Washington—that was just bizarre, and it gave me a weird feeling like something's going on around us, but we're not aware of it and that kind of drives me crazy.”

  “Tell me about it.” He refrained from telling her that while he'd decided to take her advice, it was not an easy decision and he had all ideas he'd suffer from more than one bout of second-guessing and wanting to change his mind.

  “I know it was just a dream, and yeah, fears I suppress rising up to haunt me, but it did make me stop and think. We're not that old, but things happen every day, to people younger than us. We spend so much of our time focused on running our businesses or taking care of this place, that we've stopped taking time just to be. To spend time together, or with the kids when they're here.

  “I don't want to miss out on those times. I love you more than anything, and I'd die for you without a thought. You've always been it for me, you know that, and I don't want to waste a second of time we could be spending together, enjoying the life we've built. So, thank you for choosing not to go. You saved me sleepless nights and scarred boot toes.”

  “Scarred boot toes?”

  “Yeah, where I kicked stuff because I was pissed.”

  Cord laughed and pulled her down on top of him. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?”

  “I could stand to hear it a couple more million times.”

  “I love you, Morgan. More than anything.”

  “It's going to be light soon,” she murmured and wiggled on him.

  “Yes, and?”

  “So, that means we have a little time before we have to start on whatever we need to do today.”

  “Yes, we have a little while. Is there something you'd like to do?”

  “I was hoping you'd ask that.” She sat up and looked around. “Oh, wait.”

  Cord had no clue what she was after when she jumped up and rumbled around in the pile of their discarded clothes. She returned and laid down beside him. “Look.” She held her phone and called up a YouTube video page.

  “What the hell? An app that teaches you how to perform oral sex?”

  Morgan laughed. “I know, right? Licks over Dicks. So funny. Myrtle texted me yesterday and told me about this app. I nearly fell over laughing.” She started the video and after a few seconds Cord burst out laughing.

  “Myrtle showed you this?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  “The old lady?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  “That's kind of icky.”

  “She's old, Cord, not dead. And she thought it was hilarious.”

  “Well, I'll agree with that. People actually buy this app?”

  “Well, you know the data is actually correct. Only 25% of orgasms are vaginal, so a whole lot of guys dicks aren't gonna compete with good licks.”

  “Uh, are you saying maybe I should get this app?”

  Her laugh relieved him. “Don't worry, you got this, babe. But it doesn't hurt my feelings if you want to practice.”

  “Oh, now that's an offer too good to refuse. Get ready, hot stuff. I'm gonna beat the game and that 25%.”

  “Then game on, big boy.” She tossed the phone aside and squealed as he ripped off the spread.

  All thought of work and nuclear waste and the world around them fell away. For now, there was only her and him, and that was more than enough.

  Chapter Nine

  Cord couldn't remember the last time he'd stayed home from the office to help with a round-up. Morgan ran a feedlot, and it was one of the busiest in this part of the state, with a waiting list of ranchers wanting to pasture their cows to fatten them up for market.

  Today she and the ranch hands were rounding up a herd owned by a man from up above San Antonio. He had trucks arriving first thing in the morning so the cattle would be rounded up today and placed in the waiting pens overnight, which were a couple of acres of rich pasture.

  “You sure you want to do this?” Morgan asked as she saddled her favorite horse, Windwalker, an Appaloosa with as much energy and spirit as the woman who owned him. Not many people on the ranch cared to ride Windwalker. He could be unpredictable and hard to control. For everyone but Morgan. Cord swore the damn horse worshipped her.

  “Yes, I'm sure. That's the third time you've asked me. Don't you want me to go?”

  “Of course I do. But it's been a while and—”

  “And you think I've forgotten how to herd cows?”

  “No, I think your ass isn't accustomed to sitting in a saddle all day.”

  “Oh, yeah, that. Well, I'm sure I'll be fine.” He finished tacking out his horse, Whiplash. When they first bought Whip, he'd been another almost-too-spirited to ride animal and had damn near given every rider who climbed on his back, whiplash, thus earning his name.

  Cord bought him off a man who lived in Cotton Creek, Reed Trask. Reed had given up trying to break the animal and sold him for next to nothing. Cord brought him home and asked the ranch foreman, Sam, to see that the horse was broken.

  That didn't work. No one could stay on the animal. So, Morgan stepped in and asked if she could work with him. Cord agreed since she was the best at it but was shocked that Trevor wanted to work with his mother on the animal's training. He'd just graduated high school and had promised to work with his mother during the summer.

  What they accomplished was close to a miracle. Before Trevor left on his bike-around-the-country trip, Whiplash had become one of the best cow horses on the ranch. Cord would never forget the day he found out what Morgan and Trevor had done.

  He was less than five miles from home when his phone rang. Cord was surprised when the automated voice announced the call was from Trevor. “Hey, son, what's up?” Cord answered.

  “When are you coming home?”

  “On my way now.”

  “Can you drive to the main stable?”

  “I guess. What's going on?”

  “Just meet me there.”

  “Okay, see you soon.”

  Cord tried to guess what he'd find when he arrived and drew a blank. When he parked in front of the stable, Morgan was standing at the opening of the big double door
s.

  “I can't begin to guess what this is about, but you have that cat who licked the cream expression,” he said when he got out of his car.

  She smiled and called over her shoulder. “Trevor? He's here.” Then she looked at Cord. “Check this out.”

  He opened his mouth to ask what she was talking about but never got the words out. Trevor rode out of the stable on Whiplash. “Come with me to the west pasture, Dad.”

  Morgan followed Trevor and met Cord. She took his hand, and they walked alongside Trevor. “You broke this beast.” Cord said.

  “We gentled him.” Morgan corrected. “And more. Just wait.”

  When they reached the pasture, Cord saw a dozen or more head of cattle grazing. “I thought you'd moved all the stock out of this pasture.”

  “We put a few in for this. Just watch.”

  She opened the gate, and Trevor rode in. Morgan closed the gate and propped her forearms on the top rail. Cord looped an arm around her and watched. It took less than a minute for him to realize what Trevor had done.

  Whiplash had become one heck of a reined horse. Trevor took him through spins and rollbacks, sliding stops and really impressive backing up maneuvers.

  “He did that?” Cord cut a look at Morgan. “Whip's gonna be a good working ranch horse.”

  “That's not even the best part. Look what he's working on now.”

  Having grown up on a ranch, and then spent his adult life living on one and married to a woman who trained horses, Cord knew what a good working cow horse could do. Cow work involved moving a single cow up and down a fence line or in a particular direction. Herd work involved driving the herd and cutting or separating a cow from the herd.

  Over the next half hour, Cord watched in surprise and with a great deal of pride as his son and Whip performed like champs on both levels. When Trevor finished and rode over to the gate, he was smiling, and Cord understood why.

  “One word,” Cord said and waited for a beat. “Wow.”

  Trevor's smile blossomed into a full-blown grin. “He's smart, Dad. Really smart. And Mom's already had three people trying to buy him.”

  “No way we're selling Whip,” Cord said.

  “Amen to that,” Morgan added and smiled up at Trevor before looking at Cord. “He's a natural, our boy. He has it, Cord. In spades.”