Maybe, With Conditions

by Mariella Starr

  "Yes. It's a commission from her husband. He gave me the dimensions. It has to be big because he lives in a mansion with a master bedroom the size of a normal house."

  "Will Matty see this painting?"

  "Probably," Nicole said. "He's seen me painting nudes before."

  "I'm not sure I want him seeing a full-on naked woman."

  "Nudity shouldn't be treated as a dirty subject. We are all nude at some time. If we don't make a big deal out of it, Matty will accept it as being natural. I don't want him to think nudity is wrong or dirty. I'm fairly modest in front of him, but I give him straight answers when he asks questions. At five, our son's not interested in the encyclopedic version of explanations. He only wants to know why he has a penis and why little girls don't. Keep the answers simple and there won't be any problems."

  "Has he asked? How does he know little girls don't have one?"

  Nicole laughed. "He knows because a friend of mine changed her daughter's diaper in front of him. Yes, he has asked questions that are even more complicated. I'll let you field the next one. Did you need something?"

  His answer was easy. "I need you."

  Nicole's heart skipped a beat. She wasn't sure she had recovered from their previous night of passion, but she felt suddenly damp between her legs. "Here? Now?"

  He observed the clear glass surrounding the sunny room and shook his head. "I have a better idea. Come with me. I have a special place I want to show you. I'll ask Gran to watch Matty for the afternoon."

  "We're not going riding, are we? I'm not very good on a horse."

  "We won't go on horseback. We can get there by truck although you should learn to ride."

  Nicole shook her head. "I tried it and failed miserably. I'm afraid of horses and they seem to know it. I need a few minutes to clean my brushes and put my paints away."

  She noticed a cooler on the seat along with several thick blankets, so she knew he was taking her somewhere private to make love. Nicole wasn't sure how much Dalton's grandparents knew of their relationship, but they tried to not be too obvious in front of them or Kay. With them occupying the upper wing of the house, Dalton's grandparents on the first floor, and Kay at the far end of the house, there was little interaction after everyone retired for the night.

  Dalton drove quite a distance from the main ranch to an area where the only occupant was the occasional steer. He drove through a sparsely wooded area and parked his truck in front of a small log cabin. He grabbed the cooler from the backseat and set it on a bench outside the door of the cabin. He came back to help Nicole from the truck, but she had already scrambled down from the high seat.

  A small pond was located near the cabin, and Nicole walked down to the edge where an old and dangerously rotted pier extended over the water. The water appeared to be only a few inches deep.

  Dalton joined her. "Be careful down here," he warned. "This pier is on our work schedule for rebuilding in late August or September when the water is completely gone. The pond comes from a natural spring. It fills up in the springtime, but usually disappears by mid-summer."

  "What is this place?"

  He turned her around to face the small cabin. "This is the original Calloway homestead built in 1882. Edward Calloway was fresh off the boat from Ireland minus the five months it took him to work his way across the country from New York Harbor where his ship landed. He took one look at the city, knew it wasn't for him and headed west. Edward had pie-in-the-sky dreams of picking up gold nuggets by the handfuls. Instead, he found free land for the claiming if you were willing to fight the Indians for it. In Ireland, owning land was important to a man. It meant he could marry and grow crops to feed his family. Edward was Roy Mac's grandfather, the fifth son of his father."

  "I know this part," Nicole interrupted. "His father's property was deeded to the eldest son. The younger sons had to find their own fortunes."

  "It was the custom of the time," Dalton agreed.

  "Dee Dee's husband was in the same situation. It was his dream to leave Ireland. Unfortunately, he worked on the docks and was killed when a shipping container crushed him. Her husband didn't live long enough to make it here. When Dee Dee was offered a chance to immigrate with Phillip, she jumped on it. She wanted her son to have more opportunities and a better education. He was fifteen when they came to America. She put him into a private school and worked her butt off to keep him there.

  "It's amazing this place has stood for all these years."

  "The family has maintained The Homestead for over a century. A hundred and thirty-four years to be exact. Someone in the 1920s tacked a small bathroom onto the back of the cabin and rebuilt the stable. Roy Mac remembers when it was used to house ranch workers. When he took over the Double C, he brought my Gran out here on their honeymoon. It isn't exactly luxurious, but it's part of Calloway history. The ranch will be Matty's someday."

  "If he wants it," Nicole interrupted him. "I never want him to think he has no choice. I want Matty to have the life he wants, not one thrust upon him by family expectations."

  "Sometimes those are hard choices," Dalton agreed. "Come on, I want to show you luxury, 1882 style."

  He gave her a two-minute tour of the cabin with its hand pump and bathroom plumbing straight out of the earlier 1900s with a water tank and pull chains mounted high on the wall. The fixtures belonged in a museum.

  Dalton removed a bottle of wine and two glasses from the cooler before leading the way up the ladder to a loft. The small area was nearly wall-to-wall bed. Antique brass oil lamps graced small handmade side tables. An old quilt covered the bed. He opened a small window and motioned for Nicole to come to him.

  She did, walking straight into his arms. Goose bumps shivered all along her arms in anticipation.

  Chapter Ten

  "God, woman you are amazing," Dalton groaned. "Sex has always been fantastic with you, but for the last couple of weeks, it's been mind-blowing."

  "You've been pretty darn spectacular yourself," Nicole agreed.

  "If I'd known this, I would have hunted you down years ago."

  Nicole rolled from his grasp and sat up on the edge of the bed. "That's insulting."

  "What's insulting?"

  "You only want me for the sex," Nicole snapped.

  Dalton dragged her across the bed and pinned her under his arm. "I didn't mean it to sound like an insult. I'm sorry. When are you marrying me?"

  "I haven't agreed to marry you, yet," she bristled struggling to wriggle out of his grasp.

  "Why not?"

  Nicole shrugged his arm away and slid off the bed. "I have my reasons."

  "How about enlightening me?" Dalton growled. "I want to settle this. You're meant to be my wife!"

  "No. Right now, I'm your lover," Nicole corrected. "Only I can decide when it's time to move our relationship to the next level."

  "Damn it, Nic! What's going on in your head? I'm good enough for mind-blowing sex, but not good enough to be your husband? I'm not some toy you can play with and toss aside when you're not interested anymore!"

  "Neither am I!" Nicole exclaimed. She grabbed her tee shirt and tried to pull it over her head, but Dalton yanked it away from her.

  "I'm not through with you, yet!"

  "This conversation is over," Nicole snapped. She grabbed her tee shirt and jeans, pulling them on angrily and leaving the small loft.

  Dalton sat up when he heard the front door of the cabin thud shut. He jumped out of the bed and grabbed for his jeans. He had no idea what had set her off this time. They had just experienced several hours of incredible lovemaking, which was saying something because their encounters lately had been record-breaking.

  When he heard his truck engine start, he swore and dashed across the loft. He went down the ladder in two leaps opening the door in time to see Nicole driving off. He shouted at her and swore, again, when he heard her grinding the gears in an unsuccessful attempt to engage the correct one. She finally managed to connect with what sounded like the
third or maybe fourth gear because she had to gun the engine to keep the truck moving. She roared off leaving a cloud of dust flying behind her and driving across the desert much too fast.

  Dalton reached into his pocket, but his cell wasn't there. He retraced his steps inside looking for it. It wasn't on the kitchen table or on the bedside table in the loft. Then he remembered. He had left it on his truck dash.

  Muttering a long streak of swear words, Dalton finished getting dressed. He returned downstairs rummaging around until he found an empty sack and refilled the wine bottle with water. It was a six-mile hike to the main house. It was going to be a long, hot trek. He could think of it as time to walk off his anger, but that wasn't likely to happen.

  * * *

  Nicole's temper had flashed for all of a minute and a half before she calmed. She knew she had a bad temper. It flared, then was gone as quickly as her brain engaged and took control of her wayward emotions. The problem was she had left Dalton stranded. She had taken his truck and now she didn't have the courage to go back for him. If she went back, she would bear the brunt of his temper. If she didn't go back, he would be furious. Every idea or excuse she came up with failed miserably. Dalton was going to be furious and it didn't bode well for her.

  She was having a hard time keeping the truck engine going. She knew she was in the wrong gear, but couldn't get the truck into the right one and had to keep accelerating so the engine wouldn't stall. She was driving too fast through the rough fields. She tried to downshift, only to end up grinding the gears. Driving over an exceptionally large dip in the field, she was jolted so hard she bounced and nearly hit the ceiling of the truck cab. The only thing keeping her in the seat was the seatbelt. The truck took another dip and dive. The field suddenly disappeared into a ravine and she went over the edge. She screamed and slammed on the brake with both feet. The motor shut off, but the rollercoaster ride didn't end until the hood and front wheels of the truck dipped again before slamming to a stop at the bottom.

  Nicole gasped for breath and shook as she assessed herself for injury. Except for being scared, she was okay. The truck was another matter. Steam or smoke spewed from under the hood. She jumped out and backed away. She recognized it as steam, which she supposed was better than smoke.

  Now she knew for sure. Dalton would kill her.

  Dalton covered the distance quickly. Being angry helped. Even as long-legged as he was, it would take him an hour or more to hike to the main house. When he caught up with her, he and Nicole were going to have a little set to whether she liked it or not.

  He was following the tires tracks she had left and was becoming increasingly worried. When the tracks veered south, his concern doubled. The terrain was rougher in the direction she had taken. When he saw a plume of what he thought was smoke, he ran. Running wasn't easy or comfortable in cowboy boots.

  As he crested a knoll, his worst fears were realized. He saw his truck crashed into the bottom of a ravine. He searched for Nicole but didn't see her. He ran down the hill and finally saw her head pop up in the cab of the truck. She screamed something at him.

  He jogged another hundred feet or so before she stuck her head out the window and screamed again.

  "Go back!"

  "Are you hurt?" he shouted.

  "The bull!" Nicole yelled as Dalton got a clear picture of why she was warning him. One of his prize bulls came around from the opposite side of the truck. The animal lowered its head and charged, ramming into the side of the truck and ripping his horns through the fiberglass. He couldn't see the damage, but even at this distance, he could hear it.

  Nicole screamed as she ducked out of sight, again.

  Dalton moved closer. He was careful not to move too fast as he circled around the truck on the opposite side from the bull. Nicole's head came into view, again.

  "Stay down and out of sight!" Dalton hissed and she disappeared. "Yah! Yah!" he shouted at the bull.

  Brahma bulls were not known for their good dispositions, quite the opposite. Still, this particular bull wasn't known to be aggressive. Dalton made his way closer, ready to make a leap for the truck bed, if necessary. The bull lowered his head and rammed the truck, again, then stood glaring at it as only two thousand pounds of mean could do. Having shown the intruder who was the boss, the Brahma raised its head and trotted up the embankment. It stopped at the top of the ravine, surveyed its territory, and disappeared from view.

  "Nic!" Dalton opened the truck cab and she nearly jumped into his arms.

  "Is he gone?"

  "For now," Dalton answered setting her on her feet. He visually examined her to make sure she wasn't hurt although she was shaking. He then surveyed his truck and the damage done to it. The front end was caved in and bent. The bed and sides were dented from more than one Brahma charge. Ranch trucks took their fair share of abuse, but this particular truck was only seven months old. He tried to raise the hood, but the damage was extensive and the bent metal prevented him from lifting it. He could still see some steam escaping, but the desert sand had already absorbed and dried any liquid escaping from the radiator.

  "I'll pay for the damages," Nicole offered quickly. "I'm sorry."

  Dalton barely spared her a glance. He searched around on the floorboards of the front seat and floor to find his cell phone and called his foreman. They would have to pull the truck from the ravine and tow it forty miles to the nearest repair shop in Hawthorne. He opened the second door, reached behind the seat, unlocked a metal box bolted to the floorboards, and removed a rifle.

  "Why do you need a gun?" Nicole demanded. He already knew her city-slicker opinions on guns.

  "This is in case the Brahma decides to come after us. If I have to shoot my bull, I'm going to be really pissed! Let's get moving. We have a long walk. My foreman is on the other side of the ranch and won't be here for a while."

  "I'm sorry," Nicole offered, again, but he wasn't listening to her. He viewed the area, looking for his bull, and stalked off. She followed him at a half trot for a while and when she tired, began to lag behind.

  "Stop dawdling," Dalton snapped.

  "I'm not! I can't keep up with your long legs," she complained.

  He slowed his pace, but he wasn't offering any assistance over the rough patches of ground, although he did order her to drink water twice. They were within sight of the ranch buildings when a large truck with a towing device drove by them.

  "Need a lift boss?" one of the ranch hands asked with a wide grin.

  Dalton actually smiled and waved him off. "No, take care of business. Get it towed into Rawley's. Tell him not to start work on it until the insurance people have a chance to look it over. It might be totaled."

  Helen and Roy Mac met them on the porch.

  "Anyone hurt?" Roy Mac demanded.

  "Not yet," Dalton said.

  "I have work to do," Nicole said sidestepping to put distance between her and the man who was seriously angry with her. Dalton caught her by the back waistband of her jeans and not letting go, yanked her to him.

  "Mommy," Matty exclaimed. "Where'd you go? Gran made peanut butter cookies."

  "Momma and Daddy need to have a talk," Dalton told his son. He looked to his grandfather. "Why don't you two go have a look at the new foal I delivered and take Matty with you?"

  Roy Mac raised his eyebrows observing the grip his grandson had on the seat of Nicole's britches and the temper in his eyes. He knew this was man and woman trouble, and he had a good idea how Dalton was going to handle it.

  "Sounds like a good idea," Roy Mac agreed. "Helen, I can use your help. Come on, Matty boy."

  The boy ran ahead. After biting her lip in worry, Helen gave her husband a nod and took the handles of his chair. Dalton pushed Nicole from behind propelling her into the house.

  "Now, Dalton, don't do something you'll regret," Nicole warned backing away from him.

  "I'm not the one who will regret their actions," he promised tossing her over his shoulder and carrying her upstairs.r />
  "Dalton!" she screamed. "I'm not your child; I'm a grown woman!"

  "You haven't been acting like one," Dalton growled. "You've been acting like a spoiled brat, and I'm tired of it!"

  "Nooo!" Nicole screamed ineffectually, hitting him in the back with her fists.

  Dalton paid her no mind. He took her to his bedroom and closed the door. He walked over to the windows and closed them, too. His intention was to spank Nicole, but what happened between him and his woman was private. He didn't want the sound carrying outside to anyone and embarrassing her. His next stop was the top of his chest of drawers where he captured his hairbrush with his free hand. She still fought him with everything she had, but it wasn't going to change the end result.

  He sat down in his leather wingback chair and transferred her from his shoulder to across his knees in one swift motion. His hand went under her and unsnapped her jeans. She had stormed out of the cabin so fast, she hadn't bothered to put on the little scraps of nothing she called underwear. They wouldn't have made a difference, anyway, as the thongs exposed her entire ass. He yanked her jeans down to her knees and laid the first spank, a hard one.

  Nicole screamed trying to kick and squirm, but Dalton held her tightly. He continued administering whack after whack across her butt.

  "Ow! Stop it, Dalton, it hurts!" she yelped between whacks, squealing in pain.

  Dalton ignored her and continued, satisfied with the reddening of her squirming and wiggling ass.

  "God damn it," she yelled. "I'll never let you touch me, again, Dalton Calloway! Never!"

  "Oh yes, you will, because my blistering your ass has nothing to do with our sex life. This is payback for your bad temper. This is for risking your life! This is for taking and wrecking a forty-six-thousand-dollar truck you know damn well you can't drive!"

  "I'll pay for the truck!" Nicole cried.

  Dalton's eyes narrowed. "Yeah, you will, with a sore ass. This is about more than the cost of a truck!" He peppered her bottom with more spanks, as it got redder and hotter to the touch. "You keep telling me you're an adult, but you aren't acting like one. As long as you act like a brat, I'll treat you like one!"