A Prince Among Men

by Johnson, Cat

  Mason stopped with his hand on the gate. “Jeez, Clay! Give her some credit. She’s not stupid and her head won’t be turned by money. She wants to go to the prom, that’s all. So let Clinton foot the bill and take her. But I tell you what, a few hours of being with him and she’ll come running back to us.”

  Clay raised a brow. “You think?”

  “Hell yeah! Did you ever hear that sissy pretty boy jock talk about anything besides football or that new sports car Daddy bought him?”

  Clay thought for a second and then grinned. “You know what? I can’t say I have.”

  April loved two things, horses and reading books. Football and cars weren’t going to get Clinton into that girl’s pretty white panties, or anywhere else.

  With renewed hope, Clay swung the gate open and got ready for some good old-fashioned horse breaking, knowing that the minute he and Mason had the new horse in the ring, April would be down there. Pissed or not, the girl couldn’t resist watching them break a horse.

  Clay let his mind stray to how he’d love to break April in, until a handful of spirited rearing horse demanded all of his attention as he jumped to help Mason.

  Chapter Two

  Mason grunted as the horse circled the ring with him laying belly down across its back with nothing but a saddle blanket to cushion his stomach as he got jostled during a brisk trot.

  Whether saddle horses for riding like this one, or bucking broncos for rough stock competitions, Mason loved training horses. He knew Clay more than loved it. He lived for it. However, this particular part, Mason could probably live without. Get him up in a saddle and he was happy, but this step in the training process, though brief, just plain sucked.

  The new gelding, after many hours and many days of gentle persuading, had taken to them putting a folded blanket over his back. He’d even, after a bit of bucking, let them hang two sandbags over him so he’d get used to the feel of weight on his back and sides. And since Clay had been the one to hop up and lay across the back of the last horse they’d broken, it was Mason’s turn today. Oh, goody.

  But things were going well so far. The horse hadn’t taken off galloping with Mason, nor had he tried to buck him off. That was exactly the results they wanted. They were one step closer to getting a saddle up on him and making him a valuable saddle horse, or maybe even a barrel horse, for April’s daddy. Of course, tightening down the cinch on a green horse’s belly was the challenge, more than just throwing on the saddle. Then, once he got used to the empty saddle on him, they would try a rider.

  One step at a time. Right now, Mason had to worry more about losing his lunch. Next time he’d remember not to go up for seconds of the school cafeteria Sloppy Joes before doing this shit.

  Clay stood in the center of the ring, controlling the horse on a lunge line. The colt had been trotting for long enough that Mason could feel the horse’s labored breathing beneath him and see the sweat lathering his flank.

  “Hold up, Clay.”

  Taking a step forward, Clay shortened the lunge line and slowed the horse. “Ho, there. Ho.”

  Jumping clear, Mason tried not to stumble even though his equilibrium was shot to hell after that face down belly ride. “He’s had enough for today. It’s too damn hot to keep working him.”

  Clay nodded and strode up to the horse to unhook the long lunge line from his halter as Mason took out his bandana and mopped his face. The horse wasn’t the only one sweating in this heat. Only difference was, Mason could guzzle some water, the horse would have to wait until he cooled off a bit first or they risked shocking his system.

  Heading for the spot where he’d dropped his water bottle before, Mason’s face broke out into a smile as he spotted April sitting in the shade behind a big oak tree, probably hoping they wouldn’t notice her.

  Mason swung over the top rail of the ring, grabbed the bottle and took a gulp of now tepid water as Clay joined him.

  “Well, well. Do you see who I see?” Clay grinned, grabbing his own bottle of water.

  He swallowed another mouthful of water and nodded. “Yup, I sure do.”

  “Humph. I knew she couldn’t stay away from the horses, pissed at us or not.”

  “Pissed at you, my friend. Not me.”

  Clay shook his head. “You know damn well she’s not just upset I called the prom stupid, which it is. She’s mad because you and I didn’t drop out of the competition to go with her.”

  Mason considered that theory. “Maybe.” He laughed at himself and what he was about to say next. “Maybe we should.”

  Clay shot him a look of disbelief. “That entry fee cost us practically half a week’s pay each! We’d forfeit that and have to buy tickets to the stupid prom.”

  “I know. But if it makes her happy...”

  Clay shook his head and sighed. “You are thinking with your little head now.”

  Maybe, but Mason was sure he wasn’t the only one. “As if you haven’t been drooling over her since the second she stripped off her clothes this afternoon and jumped in that pond.”

  The image of April standing before them, beautiful and totally unaware of what torture she was inflicting on two horny teenage boys, filled his brain until Clay interrupted his thoughts.

  “I never said I wasn’t drooling. We both were. But the purse in Elk City will be huge and there will be a lot of big names riding. If we were gonna skip a competition to dress up like fools and pay a bunch of money to go to some dance, this is not the competition to drop out of and you know it. She’ll get over it. Don’t worry. Like you said, next to that ass Clinton, we both will look like Prince Charming.”

  Mason was covered in dust and smelled like a mixture of sweat, wet wool blanket and horseflesh. Prince Charming? Not quite. “Let’s not push it. And shush up now ‘cause she’s coming.”

  He watched April stand, leave her shaded hiding spot and make her way over to them.

  Clay glanced over his shoulder and cringed when he saw the determined look on her face. “I’m, ah, gonna go ask if they want him turned out in the paddock or put back in the barn after we hose him off.”

  Mason grinned. “Chicken.”

  He heard Clay making soft clucking noises as he walked away and laughed, until April was closer and that not so happy look was turned on him now.

  She watched the still high-strung horse pace back and forth, from one side of the ring to the other. “I wanna ride him.”

  Mason watched her rather than the horse. “He’s coming along good. I think in a few weeks, after we’ve been up on him a few times, I’m sure your daddy will agree if we let you hop on him in the ring.”

  April shook her head and turned to face Mason. “No. I mean I want to ride him now.”

  Mason was sure the look on his face told her what he thought about that idea. “April, we haven’t even gotten a saddle on him yet.”

  “So? I can ride bareback.”

  That statement popped a very ungentlemanly, though tantalizing image into his head. Damn! If Mason kept picturing April naked as she rode him in her bed, he’d be forfeiting that entrance fee and putting on his dancing boots before he knew it.

  Remembering Clay, Mason shook the crazy thought from his head. Clay would really be pissed at him if he dropped out and let him go ride alone. As much as Mason wanted more with April, the consequences of choosing her over him was not something he cared to consider.

  He’d have to figure something out. In the meantime, what was with her wanting to ride the green horse? “No. I won’t let you up on him until he’s saddle broken. You could get hurt.”

  “Like you’d care.”

  It was mumbled under her breath, but Mason heard it just fine. Maybe Clay was right. She was mad because they hadn’t dropped out of the competition to take her to the prom. As if their willingness to do that was any indication of what good friends they were.

  Mason raised his hand, noticed that it was much too dirty and sweaty to be touching the smooth creamy skin of her pretty face and inste
ad laid it on her shoulder. “I care very much, April. It would kill me if anything happened to you.”

  April watched him with a narrowed glare before breaking eye contact and letting out a big sigh. “Maybe you care, but he doesn’t.” She cocked a head in the direction that Clay had gone.

  Mason paused, biting his tongue.

  Damn. It was most likely stupid to defend his number one competition for this girl when it looked like he was in the lead, but Clay was his best friend, closer than a brother, and Mason had to tell the truth. “You know that’s not true. He cares as much as I do.”

  Mason noticed he had absently begun playing with one curl that had escaped from her ponytail and dangled on her shoulder. He swallowed hard and let the curl as well as his hand drop.

  Touching her was too damn tempting. He could feel the heat radiating off her body, and he wasn’t convinced it was just from the unseasonable weather.

  Mason considered exactly when it had happened, this sudden awareness of April as more than just a friend. Certainly it hadn’t been overnight, so why the hell hadn’t he noticed she affected him like this until now? It seemed as if one day she was just April, his and Clay’s buddy who tagged along fishing and watched them ride, and then WHAM! She was April, the girl with the body who wanted to go to the prom and almost made him want to also. Almost.

  “Look, April, about this prom…”

  She cut him off. “It’s not a problem, Mason. I just thought it would be more fun to go with you two, but I already called Clinton and told him I’ll go with him. So it’s done. See? All taken care of. You two can ride your broncos, and I get to go to the prom. Everyone’s happy.”

  Yeah, right. Not by a long shot. “You are not happy,” Mason observed. And the thought of her dancing in Clinton’s arms didn’t make him too happy, either.

  She tilted her head to one side and shrugged. “I’m fine.”

  Mason sighed. “If you had just told us sooner, maybe…”

  “I know. It’s okay, Mason. Really. I am fine. It’s just one night. You guys do your thing, and I’ll do mine, then we can tell each other about it the next day.”

  He considered her new nonchalant attitude. “You sure?”

  April nodded and even forced a smile. “Positive.”

  If only Mason was so sure.

  Chapter Three

  “You think that damn prom is over yet?” Clay backed the Carson’s trailer up to the barn so they could unload the horses.

  Mason shrugged. “Ain’t no telling.”

  Clay twisted in the driver’s seat to peer past Mason at the house. “The front light’s still on. That means she’s not home yet.” He glanced at the clock on the dashboard. “At nearly one o’clock in the damn morning.”

  Not liking that fact or the implications himself, Mason opened the truck door. “Let’s get these horses unloaded before we get to worrying about her. Okay?”

  Still looking unhappy, Clay gave in and nodded.

  They got the horses to bed, but they did it while both of them silently worried about where April was and what she and Clinton were doing. And then they were done, and Clay was staring at the house again. “I think we should wait for her to get home.”

  “I agree.” Mason was sore, tired and he stunk. Yet he still nodded and, arms folded, settled himself on a bale of hay for the duration.

  They didn’t have long to wait. He heard her before he saw her. When she did come into view, sobbing and limping down the road, Mason wasn’t sure who moved first, but both he and Clay got to her in a split second.

  Clay touched the shoulder of her torn white dress. The light from the front porch reached to where they stood and Mason saw the look his friend shot him. Mason knew Clay was thinking the same thing he was—if Clinton did this to April, they’d make sure he paid for it, and not with his daddy’s money, either. Mason had other ideas.

  Jaw set, Mason tried to speak gently so as not to frighten her any more. The poor thing was already shaking so badly it was a miracle she was still on her feet. “April, what happened tonight?”

  She shook her head and released another huge sob.

  Clay wrapped his arm around her and she pressed her face into his chest, clinging to him. “Shhh. It’s okay now. We’re here.” Clay shot another worried glance at Mason past the top of her quivering head.

  Mason took the opportunity to look her over better now that she couldn’t see him doing it, and he didn’t like what he found one bit. Her shoes were missing and her feet looked dirty and blood-smeared, like she’d walked a long way. Besides the shoulder of her dress being torn, it looked like her hair had been fastened up at the start of the night, but it was pulled halfway down now. Then he moved and the light struck her arms. He saw the bruises forming there. Someone had manhandled April and he had a very good idea who it was.

  Angry now, Mason pulled her away from Clay’s chest, one hand holding her chin as he inspected her face. Besides her tears, which broke his heart and fueled his mad, her lip was split open and bleeding. “Did Clinton do this?”

  Still shaking and sobbing, she finally nodded.

  Dropping his hold on her, Mason spun on the heel of his boot and headed for the truck. He heard Clay behind him. “Wait up. I’m coming with you.”

  “You should stay with April.”

  “And let you go alone to take care of Clinton? To hell with that. She’s my friend, too. We both beat the crap out of him then we come back here and make sure she’s all right. I told her to leave her window open and expect us in an hour.”

  Mason nodded and walked around to the driver’s side of the truck, which, technically, since they’d only been asked to drive it to Elk City and back, they were now stealing. He didn’t think her daddy would mind if he knew why they needed it. Hell, he’d probably grab his rifle and come with them.

  Turning the key in the ignition, Mason did his best to control himself and not slam on the accelerator and peel out of the gravel drive. “You told her an hour?”

  Clay nodded.

  “I don’t know if an hour of kicking his ass is going to be enough to get this mad out of my system.”

  Holding on to the door handle as Mason took the turn out of the drive a bit too fast, Clay turned to look at him. “It’s gonna have to be. April needs us.”

  And that would be the only thing that could drag Mason away from taking his size elevens and kicking that rotten, rich boy bastard until the sun came up.

  They found Clinton pretty much where they expected him to be, outside in the park, drinking, his car easy to spot where it was parked along the curb. When daddy owned half the town, the cops tended to turn a blind eye to his son’s underage drinking with his usual entourage. That was one reason Mason never even considered having April call the police about what Clinton had done. The law in this town could be bought and sold, but justice in this case would not be, not if Mason had anything to say about it.

  Judging by the look on Clinton’s face, and that of his two scum friends, they knew exactly why Clay and Mason pulled the horse truck up to the curb and jumped out. And yet the bastard still had the nerve to grin and elbow his friend next to him. “Look, if it isn’t April’s two boyfriends. I thought I smelled horse shit.”

  “There’s three of them,” Clay said softly next to him.

  Mason nodded. “And they’re drunker than shit, so don’t worry about it.” Besides, Mason was mad enough to take them on all alone.

  Clay cracked his knuckles and took another step forward. “Oh, I’m not worried. I’m just wondering which one of us gets the pleasure of kicking two asses instead of just one.”

  Mason matched Clay step for agonizingly slow step as they got closer to their prey. “I tell you what. You let me take Clinton and you can have the other two all to yourself.”

  “Well, now, that’s not fair. I wanted Clinton.”

  Mason was very well aware that Clinton and his cronies could hear every word, and yet still the bastards grinned like they’d gott
en away with something.

  After taking one final step, Mason stopped right in front of Clinton. “You know what? You are really starting to piss me off.” And with that, he swung all of his body weight into his fist and watched the blood and spit fly as Clinton’s head whipped to the side and he landed on his ass in the grass.

  They needn’t have worried about who got to take on the other two, because they took one look at the punch Mason had thrown and began backing up, wide-eyed.

  Mason grinned. “Hmm. Looks like you’re on your own there, Clinton.”

  “Well, shit. Now it’s gonna look bad. Two of us beating the shit out of only one of them.” Clay pointed at one of the two retreating guys. “You. Come on back here and take a swing at me so it’s a fair fight and I get my chance at Clinton, too.”

  “I wouldn’t worry about fair, Clay. Any man who hits a woman forfeits rights to a fair fight.” Teeth clenched tight, Mason pulled back for another punch. “Stand up, coward.”

  Still on his ass on the ground, Clinton scrambled backwards a few feet, like a cowardly crab crawling toward the safety of the surf.

  “She only got what was coming to her. Thinking I’m going pay for her to go to the prom and she’s not going to put out. The girl’s a cock tease. Acting all like she’s a virgin or something when everyone around here knows you two have both been diddling with her for years now.”

  “Oh, that’s it. Move out of the way, Mason.” Clay was on Clinton like a lion on a fresh piece of meat, hauling him up off the grass only to slam him up against a tree. “Now, you take that back about April.”

  A few smashes of his head against the trunk and Clinton was crying, which is when Clay let him drop with a snort of disgust. “You ain’t worth it. Let’s go, Mason.”

  Some men were just too stupid to know when to keep their mouths shut. Apparently, Clinton was one of them. As Clay turned his back on him, the idiot couldn’t leave well enough alone. “You two run on back and fuck your whore, but I sure hope you don’t mind getting my sloppy seconds.”