The Texas Rebel [The Armstrong Brothers of Cedar Creek 2] (Siren Publishing Classic)

by Rebecca Joyce

  “I’m fine. Hey, I am going to be back in the old neighborhood tomorrow. How about we have lunch?”

  “No problem, kiddo. Hey, is that voice of yours still smooth?”

  “Like silk, Bucky.”

  “Glad to hear it. Time to get your butt back in the recording studio. When does your flight arrive? I’ll send a car.”

  “Sunday around three. Hey, you still have that cute little place near the studio for rent?”

  “Sure do, honey. It’s yours.” He laughed.

  “Well, I’ll see you in a couple of days, Bucky. Okay.”

  “Aw, sugar,laissez les bon temps rouler!”

  Sarah laughed. “Sure thing, Bucky. Let the good times roll!”

  * * * *

  Cedar Creek, Texas, February 20th

  “They here!” the little girl with long black ringlets shouted from the front porch. She was jumping up and down, elated to finally have the rest of her family home and on time for her birthday. The moment the car stopped, she ran down the porch steps into the waiting arms of her dad.

  “Hey, trouble. You been behaving?” he teased.

  “I’m a big girl, Daddy. I’m three,” she spoke jubilantly.

  “I see that,” he said, kissing her on the cheek.

  “Hey, brat, what about me?” Marcus said, holding out his hands for his little niece. Abigail went willing to him and hugged his neck tightly.

  “Did you bring me my gift?” she asked.

  “Well how do ya like that, I get passed over for a gift,” he said, looking disappointed.

  “Did ya? Did ya?” she said, squirming with delight as he tickled her.

  “Yeah I brought it, you little goose. But you can’t have it till Tuesday. Here, go to Uncle Mitch while I get my bags,” he said, handing her off to him.

  “Hey, Abby,” he said, giving her a big hug.

  “I missed you,” she said, and then her expression changed from happiness to worry as she looked at Mark. “You need a hug,” she said, holding out her hands for him.

  Mark walked over to his niece and took her from Mitchell. He hugged her with all the strength he had left. Abby wrapped her little arms around him and hugged him tightly. He knew she could tell he was upset and it made her sad to see him this way. Mark stood there in the front yard, holding the little girl while the rest of his brothers got the bags and headed inside to let Rachael know that they were all home safely.

  “It’s gonna be okay,” Abby whispered.

  “I know, squirt. I know,” he lied. He wasn’t as sure as Abby, but he hoped.

  “Momma says everything gonna be okay,” she began. “Henry says you not nice to a girl. Why you not nice?” she asked.

  “I said something I shouldn’t have,” he tried to explain.

  “Say sorry.”

  “It’s not that easy, honey,” he said softly.

  “Is too easy. You say sorry, and she says okay,” she explained. Mark chuckled at his niece’s little pearls of wisdom. God, he loved this child. There was just something about holding her that was making him feel a little better. Maybe it was being around his brothers and away from the football field. Hell, he didn’t know.

  “Uncle Mark?” Abby whispered softly.

  “Humm.”

  “I know why you so sad,” Abby whispered into his ear.

  “Why am I so sad?” he asked, looking at her. Abigail leaned closer to his ear, and with her soft little voice, she whispered, “You love her.”

  There it was.

  It was right in front of him the whole time.

  He had fallen in love with Sarah.

  That ache he had been trying to get rid of for over two weeks now exploded hard against his chest. It was real, and it hurt. Gasping for air, he couldn’t breathe. The hurt shot right through him as if someone had yanked his soul right out of him.

  Mark just lost it.

  He loved her.

  In that short time, he had fallen utterly and unconditionally in love with Sarah Renee Mitchell. She was everything he thought he never wanted. She was that breath of fresh air, that soft, funny feeling in his gut that had been nagging him for weeks. She was the one woman who was most like him, and he never saw it. She understood him where others hadn’t. She saw right through his façade and opened his eyes to what he was missing. She was forgiving and kind, when he was belligerent and cruel. She was smart and insightful, when he was rude and uncaring.

  Mark couldn’t breathe. His chest hurt as he started hyperventilating. He let go of Abby as he tried to get control of himself. Abby just stood there worried, and soon she ran into the house looking for help.

  “Momma!” she shouted as she ran into the house.

  “Oh, shit. Here we go!” Mitch spoke as he looked out the window. His brothers quickly ran to watch for themselves. Everyone watched from inside the house as Mark went to his knees right there in the front yard, crying as the realization sank in.

  “Damn. You think he’s gonna make it?” Matthew asked, concerned.

  “Maybe we should—” Marcus started but stopped when Rachael walked into the room with Abigail right on her heels. “Momma, he crying! Go help,” Abby shouted.

  “All right, Abigail, go help Henry in the kitchen,” she ordered the child.

  “But, Momma?” Abigail countered.

  “Abigail, do as you’re told.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Rachael waited until her daughter was out of the room when she turned on all of the brothers just staring out the window. “You boys want to tell me what the hell is going on out there?” she demanded, pointing toward the yard.

  The sound of her voice made all of them jump. They saw Rachael standing there in the middle of the living room, hands on her hips and one foot taping impatiently, waiting for one of them to answer. Marcus pushed Mitchell forward, throwing him to the wolves.

  “I’m waiting,” she said impatiently when Mitch just stood there like a lump on the log.

  “Well, Rach, you see, it’s like this. Mark has kinda been fighting a lot of demons lately, and by the looks of him, I think he just figured out the biggest demon of them all,” Mitchell said, trying to put what his brother was feeling into words. The emotions radiating through him were powerful, and even he was having a hard time understanding everything.

  “What the hell is he talking about?” she shouted, pushing past Mitchell to get to the other brothers.

  Matthew was the first to come to the rescue of the stammering idiot. “You see, Rach. There’s this woman—” he began, and Marcus interrupted him. “Not just any woman, Rachael.Thewoman, and butthead out there made a huge mess of everything.”

  “But why is he crying?”

  “Well, you see, he didn’t know and now he does, and to make matters worse, he has screwed it up really bad,” Mitchell said cryptically.

  “What?” Rachael asked, more confused than ever.

  “What he means is that Mark has fallen in love with a woman and he is just now realizing it,” Michael interpreted.

  “Yeah. That’s it!” Marcus replied.

  “Then why is he out there crying like a baby? He should be happy.”

  “Well that’s the other thing. He wasn’t very nice to her,” Mitchell responded.

  “Then he needs to apologize.”

  “He can’t.” Matthew smiled.

  “Why not?”

  “Because of what he said,” Mitchell said with a crooked grin.

  “What did he say?” Rachael asked suspiciously, moving closer to the brothers.

  “We don’t want to tell you. You’re liable to shoot us for being the messengers,” Marcus said, backing up.

  “Well someone better say it quick, or I will start shooting you,” Rachael said, furious.

  She stood there while the brothers explained everything, and when they were finished, Rachael had to sit down. She just ran her hands through her hair and looked at the ceiling.

  “I told you that you weren’t going to like it,
” Mitchell spoke softly.

  “He really said all that?” Rachael asked, astounded.

  “Yeah,” Marcus whispered.

  “Damn,” was all she could reply.

  Rachael took a deep breath and stood. She walked outside to find Mark on his hands and knees, gasping for air. His body was convulsing as she watched Mark try to relax. She could see the emotions radiating off him in waves. He was in pain, and he needed help. Walking closer, she knelt down next to him and put her arms around him and said, “Let’s go for a walk.”

  Mark looked over at her, and his expression ripped through her, making her want to cradle him forever. She softly smiled and kissed his cheek and hugged him.

  “I screwed up, Rachael!” he cried.

  “Oh, I think you can find a way to fix it.”

  “Not this.”

  “Give yourself some credit, Mark. At least now you know. All you have to figure out now is how to make it better,” she advised.

  “What?” he asked, confused.

  “Come on, help me up. Let’s go for a walk and I’ll explain.” He stood and gave her his hand, and as she rose, Mark noticed her ever-growing stomach. “You’re pregnant, again!”

  “Yeah, and if you showed your face around here more often instead of smiling for those damn cameras, you would have noticed. Now stop staring like a moron, and let’s go for a walk.”

  * * * *

  Louisiana, February 21st

  Sarah stepped off the plane with her backpack in tow and headed out of the airport. She was bombarded with flashing cameras and a dizzying array of questions. Making her way quickly through the mob, she was greeted by two of her longtime friends, Jon and Philippe De’Hon, two of the biggest black men in New Orleans, and they were devoted to her. As she hugged them both lovingly, Sarah watched as they went into action, shouting, “Make a hole,” and “She ain’t talking none to any of you.”

  The sun was shining brightly as the sounds and smells of Louisiana welcomed her home. The salty sea air welcomed her home, wrapping her in a blanket of spices, life, and music. Taking in a deep breath, she took it all in and sighed, “I’m home.”

  Like Bucky had promised, a long black stretch limo waited for her. She smiled as she approached the driver.

  “Miz Mitchell. Welcome home. Let me take your bag,” the dark Cajun man offered.

  “Thank you, James.” She smiled as he opened the door for her and she got in.

  The air was buzzing. The locals were going about a normal day without a care in the world. The sounds of car horns, street vendors, and people going about their business flooded the surrounding area. The streets were packed as she made her way through the city. Children ran around, playing, and locals sat alongside of the streets talking among themselves. The smells of freshly cooked foods such as jambalaya and Cajun fish fry filled the air with luscious spices and delight.

  The beautiful colors of the city and the people, whom were everywhere, never ceased to amaze her. Shades of reds, yellows, greens and blues covered the city like a quilt. She looked out the window as the limo drove through the city. She smiled and whispered, “Mardi Gras.”

  “Ah, yes, Miz Sarah. Tiz a great time for ya to be headin’ home. Tiz a welcome like no other.” James laughed.

  The sounds of a nearby church bell sang proudly over the city. Continuing on through the city, Sarah took everything in. She absorbed the laughter and life around her. She had welcomed the sights and sounds as the city welcomed her back home. She was finally home.

  She harbored no ill regrets, no second thoughts, only assurance that she had made the right decision. Finally freeing the chains of her own making, she let them fall from her as she looked forward to what awaited her. Making their way southeast from the city, she headed toward her new life.

  * * * *

  It was Sunday evening, and Bridget Matthews was going over the latest scouting reports when a messenger placed a package on her desk. Stopping what she doing, she opened the large manila envelope and a huge smile came across her face. It didn’t take long for her to call Mitchell.

  “Mitch. You are not going to believe this. It must be fate,” Bridget said hurriedly.

  “Sugar, you’ve decided to sleep with me!” Mitch answered exuberantly.

  “No, you fool. Just shut up and listen. She’s back in town,” she shouted.

  “Who?”

  “That elusive recluse that has our boy all up in knots.”

  “You’re kidding!” he shouted.

  “Baby, this ain’t no joke.”

  “Oh God, I could kiss you right now.”

  “Well pucker up, darlin’. ’Cause she’s back!”

  “Where is she?”

  “You’re not going to believe this. She’s in Louisiana. Her plane landed a couple of hours ago, and the press is having a field day with it. She has caused quite a stir.”

  “You’re making this shit up!”

  “Honey, I ain’t that good.”

  “Oh, I think you’re better than you let on,” he said suggestively.

  “Get your head out of the gutter, would ya?”

  “Sure, as long as I can put it somewhere else,” he quickly added and laughed.

  “I don’t know why I even bother with you. You are hopeless.”

  “Hopelessly devoted to you, baby! Look, Bridge, keep a lid on this, okay.”

  “Sure thing, Mitch. Hey, I’ve gotta get going. Let me know what you plan on doing before you do it. That way I can come up with something better, okay?”

  “Hey now, I have some good ideas.” He sounded offended.

  “Sure, like the time you took Mark out on that damn fishing trip.”

  “Hey! That was not my fault. Mason was the one who pushed his drunk ass in the water. How in the hell was I supposed to know he was too inebriated to swim?”

  “You damn near killed him!”

  “He survived, didn’t he?”

  “Right, only after the paramedics pumped the water out of his lungs! The doctors said he had four times the legal amount of liquor in him. What exactly were you guys trying to do out there anyway?”

  “Never you mind. You just keep tabs on little miss sunshine, okay. Let me worry about butthead.” He laughed and hung up the phone.

  Bridget was so excited she couldn’t control her elation. She picked up the phone and tried to call Mark’s cell phone but got no answer. She had too much to do and figured she would try again later.

  * * * *

  Mark and Rachael had returned from their walk late that evening to learn that Mitchell had taken off. Though Abigail was upset, apparently Mitchell had assured her that her gift would be arriving by FedEx the following day.

  That night Mark and his family gathered around the table and enjoyed each other’s company, talking about the upcoming game and what they had planned for the summer. When it came time for Mark to talk, he just quietly excused himself and headed out to the barn.

  He needed to be alone.

  He walked around the ranch aimlessly for some time to think. He missed her. He thought about calling her and remembered that she didn’t have a phone. He couldn’t even e-mail her. He felt completely cut off, shut out.

  Leaning against the corral, he watched the final piece of the sun set over the horizon, illuminating the Texas sky with a dazzling display of bright red, yellow, and purple colors. Then as he stood there, it vanished. For one brief moment that beautiful flicker light had shone, and now it was gone.

  “Never did a woman better justify the saying that the eyes are the mirror of soul. Hers, of dark blue, were nearly always half-closed by long, slightly arched eyelids, fringed with the most beautiful lashes ever seen, and, when she looked thus, oneself drawn to her by an irresistible power,” Mark began reciting softly, letting the words flow from his soul. “But what contributed more than all the rest to the charm of her person was the entrancing tone of her voice…one could not perhaps assert that the empress was a beautiful woman, but her face, so
expressive of feeling and goodness, and the angelic grace which characterized her whole personality, made her the most attractive woman in the world.”

  “Nice to hear you learned more at that fancy college than football, Henry the eighth?” Michael questioned walking up behind him.

  “Constant’s description of Josephine,” Mark corrected quietly.

  “I always thought that Browning said it best when she said, I love thee, freely, as men strive for Right. I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise. Of course I am only paraphrasing, but you get the meaning.”

  “Yeah I do,” Mark uttered as he hung his head. “Mikie, I can’t stand it. I can’t take this anymore. It hurts so much,” he cried. Michael put his arm around his brother and kissed his forehead. “I know, Mark, I know.”

  That night under the Texas sky, Michael comforted his brother. He knew Mark was learning a hard lesson that night, and it broke his heart to see him have to go through all this misery, but it was a lesson he and many more would have to endure. He had distanced himself from any form of emotion for a long time, and now it was biting him in the ass.

  Out of all of his brothers, Mark was always the outsider. He never allowed anyone get too close to him. Pushing those who loved him away had become second nature to him. Even though he seemed closest to Mitchell, even Mitchell never truly saw the real Mark.

  Michael figured it all started when Mark was a teenager, that one night when he was out searching for those damned lost steers. Michael had heard from their mother what had happened. Their father told him not to return unless he had those animals in hand, and after staying out all night, Mark returned empty-handed. He came home to have their father curse him for ever being born. He called him the biggest disappointment of his life, and that he would always be a useless coward who would never amount to anything.

  After that, Mark left Montana. He showed up at his door with just a backpack and the clothes on his back. Michael took him in and provided for him until he finished high school, but that happy boy he remembered was gone. Who stood before him that night was a soulless man who had aged several years. Since then, Mark had only cared for himself. He was number one in his book, and he preferred it that way. He used everyone to his own advantages, and when he was done, he threw them away, never a twinge of regret as he walked out of everyone’s life, never looking back.