I Don't Want to be Married

by Sonja Gunter

  “I’m so stuffed I’m sure to fall asleep in the truck.”

  She pointed toward the loaded vehicle. “No, you’re driving first.”

  “I . . . see.”

  A chuckle escaped her. “Do you think I’d trust you to drive while Dawn’s trailer is attached?” She shook her head while he shrugged.

  “When you put it like that, yeah. I don’t have the expertise. But I’m a quick learner. Ask John, my best friend.”

  “Not this trip.”

  The thought of allowing another person into her domain had a nice feel to it, but scary. She’d have to trust him sooner or later.

  A flurry of activity met them. Her Silverado 3500HD, the trailer already attached, sat waiting next to the Suburban at the barn. Walt loaded supplies into the trailer and Joe finished packing the trucks.

  “Morning, Joe. Morning, Walt,” she called out.

  “Morning Rosalind, Mr. Smith. Will we have an on time departure?” Walt asked.

  “Yup, heading to get Dawn now,” Rosalind confirmed. “Joe, Helen’s prepared special food packages for us. When you’re done, can you swing by the house and pick them up along with our luggage?”

  Joe’s eyes widened and he smiled. “Sure can. I’ll go now.”

  Rosalind put her arm through Allan’s and pulled him into the barn. She didn’t miss his confused look.

  Allan asked, “Did I miss something?”

  “He’s sweet on Helen.”

  “I thought I was her only man,” he chuckled.

  Rosalind punched his arm. “Get real, lover boy. Stop flirting, we have work to do.”

  She walked to the fourth stall, Dawn’s temporary home, and stroked her velvety nose. The mare snuffled against her fingers.

  “Do you feel it too, my beautiful girl? A storm is brewing,” she whispered.

  She withdrew a sugar lump from her coat pocket and held it out. Dawn snatched the treat, tossing her head, her mane flying from side to side.

  “Come on girl, time to get going.” Opening the stall, she placed both arms around Dawn’s neck. “You know Grandpa taught us to always be on time.”

  About to move away, the graveolent tang of the horses and sounds of the truck engines took hold of her senses. Unwanted scenes flashed before her, a slide show of unpleasant snapshots of the awful night of her parents’ death. The ugly ambiance played in her mind. She squeezed her eyes to block them.

  Relax. Don’t fight it. Breathe.

  As quick as they’d started, the memories stopped.

  “Rosalind? Are you ill?”

  She lifted her head when she heard Allan’s worried tone. He came to her and placed a hand on her shoulder.

  “No, sometimes a sound or odor makes me think of my parents. I’ll be fine in a minute.”

  He engulfed her in a loving embrace. “You’re not alone anymore. I’m here for you.”

  The depth of his vow struck a chord at her heart. She marveled at his strength, knowing he’d lost parents too. “Thank you. It’s been hard over the years. Even with Sam. I know now I needed more, but never wanted to go for it.”

  As the intense sadness vanished, she put on her business-like face. He loosened his arms, dropped a kiss on her forehead, and stepped away.

  His act of kindness seemed unreal to her. She paused for a moment, tilting her head to stare at him. When he leaned in, his next kiss was heated but tender.

  “I love you,” Allan breathed.

  She blinked. We’re an odd pair. “I love you, too. Now, time to hustle.”

  “Okay, Miss Business.”

  “What? We have to meet and join some friends in Iowa. We always travel together for safety.” She steered Dawn outside to the trailer. “When you’re pulling horses it’s nice to know the vehicle behind or in front of you will respect your space.”

  Her red and silver conversion trailer sported four new tires, and her Silverado also had six. The cost of them, along with the repairs to the barn, dug into funds she hadn’t wanted to touch quite yet. She brought Dawn to a halt next to Max. The rear ramp was down and ready.

  He took the reins from her. “Ho, Ho, come on girl,” Max cooed. “It’s your lucky weekend.”

  “Wow. This is Dawn’s trailer?”

  Rosalind smiled at Allan. “Yes, what did you expect? One of those things you see in the movies, rickety and ready to fall apart?”

  He walked around the horse trailer, shrugging. “Don’t know what I thought. As you so like to call me, I am a city boy, through and through. I can’t believe the hard work and time that goes into preparing for a competition. It’s a lot like the night before a company debuts on the New York Stock Exchange for the first time.”

  “You hire cowboys to walk horses around your office?”

  “No . . .” His chin lifted higher.

  She’d gotten the response she’d wanted. “Just seeing if you were paying attention,” she teased.

  “I am. Why do you keep staring at me?”

  “I like the view.”

  He smiled. “Don’t I look like a city boy anymore?”

  Her heart pounded faster. No, he didn’t. She wished they had more time. A lesson in hog-tying would be fun.

  “All secure,” Max yelled.

  She turned away first and went to Max, giving him a hug. “Wish us luck.”

  “You don’t need luck. Your skill will take you to the finish line.” Max nodded to Allan. “Take care of our winner.”

  “You’re not coming?”

  “No, I get to stay here and take care of the ranch,” Max replied. “Remember, the repairs are scheduled for Wednesday.”

  Allan’s expression was priceless, all arched brows and gaping mouth. “Am I expected to help Rosalind by myself?”

  Rosalind bowed her head to hide her grin.

  “No, Joe and Walt will be in the Suburban following you. They’ve done this before,” Max deadpanned.

  “Thank God. You can count on me to take care of our winner,” Allan promised.

  Max latched the back gate and took hold of Allan’s arm. “Keep an eye out for Tom. I let a friend, David Billy, know about our troubles. He’ll be meeting you along the way.”

  “You know I will.”

  Rosalind could hear the anger lacing Allan’s voice. If Max told David Billy, the whole circuit would know, which meant if Tom tried anything, he wouldn’t stand a chance.

  She shifted her feet restlessly. “Ready to go? Time is wasting away.”

  “Whenever you are. I’m the navigator,” Allan exclaimed.

  His enthusiasm seemed genuine.

  “Hate to tell you, but I don’t need one, the truck has its own.”

  “Right,” Allan mused. “GPS.”

  “Call if we have any more incidents,” Rosalind told Max. “I doubt you will, here on the ranch, if your suspicions are true and it’s Tom.”

  “Don’t worry, Boss Lady. Keep focused on the run. Let Dawn take the lead out of the gate. Stay on pace . . .”

  “Yes, yes. I know. Bye, Max.”

  They all laughed and she waved. Rosalind walked to the driver’s side, receiving a kiss from Allan before she hopped into the truck.

  Chapter 35

  At the first checkpoint in Iowa, their convoy of two became six pick-up trucks towing horse trailers. The sky threatened to let loose another round of snow.

  Rosalind glanced over at Allan who was rubbing his eyes. “So, Mr. New Yorker, ever ride in a truck for hours on end?”

  The CB crackled with talk and she lowered the volume.

  “Never. Road trips aren’t on my bucket list and weren’t as a kid either.”

  “Not much to see,” she volunteered and turned on the wipers as the predicted sn
ow fell. “It’s a lot of farm land from here to Missouri. We stop there next.”

  “Sorry I fell asleep. I haven’t recovered from all the traveling. Guess I have jet-lag.” Allan yawned and placed his hand on her thigh.

  “Nothing to be sorry about. Can you get me a water?”

  He reached behind the backseat and took a bottle of water from the cooler, untwisting the cap for her.

  “Thanks.” She took a couple of swigs. “Do you want to talk?”

  “I’m fine just staring at my beautiful wife.”

  She flushed. “Stop. I’m not.”

  “Yes, you are. You certainly don’t realize it.”

  “Can we talk about something else?” She fidgeted with the heat control.

  “Have you ever considered building a new house?”

  Well, that was sure a change of subject. “No, why would I have to?” Rosalind took another sip of her bottled water.

  “Okay, then. What about expansion? I don’t want to be disrespectful, but can we add on? The house is a little small. Maybe about a few thousand square feet.”

  Change the only home she knew? Rosalind thought for a moment. “Don’t you like the homey feeling?”

  “Yeah—well—sure—maybe another room for an office?”

  She twisted the cap back on the water bottle, placing it in the cup holder. She had him in the hot seat, and he was squirming. “Why not tear down the house and build a three-story mansion?”

  “Rosalind, no. I have Tiffany surfing the net for office space in town . . .”

  She laughed. “Gotcha.”

  “That was cruel. I guess I deserved it,” Allan chuckled. “I will be discussing stepping down and promoting Paul to President. I have the paperwork ready.”

  Taking her eyes off the road for a moment, Rosalind stared at Allan. He seemed serious. Had she’d done it? Turned a city boy into a country—no, a real life cowboy? Funny how fate had a way of pulling you in a direction which brought you full circle. She’d gone from not wanting to marry a non-rodeo man, to loving one.

  “You want to stay? Live full time in Minnesota?” she asked.

  “If you’ll have me. I thought we could take long vacations in the winter to the sunshine states or warmer countries.”

  “Allan, I don’t know what to say. You own more than one house?”

  “I do, it’s right on the Gulf of Mexico. I—we might want to find something else. Florida zoning laws might not allow horses. Maybe we can look inland so Dawn can come with us?”

  She welled up. He actually thought to include Dawn. “If I wasn’t driving I’d show you my answer.”

  The CB noise increased, and Rosalind turned the volume up a notch. She caught Walt’s voice.

  “Break, ten-nine.”

  “Ten-seventy-three at one-thirty-six.”

  “Ten-four,” Rosalind said into the mic.

  She tapped the brakes, undoing the cruise control, and the speed dropped to the limit.

  “Were you speeding?”

  “Not really, I . . .”

  “It’s a yes or no question,” Allan coaxed.

  “Fine. Yes,” she admitted. “We set our cruise controls at six miles over the limit. Most highway patrol officers won’t pull you over for that.”

  “I’m riding with a law breaker. Maybe I should drive,” he replied.

  “Oh, be quiet. I have a fugitive from the law as a passenger.”

  They laughed together and the hours went by quickly as they talked about the sanctuary and adding onto the house. Allan fell asleep again, leaving her to contemplate having him at the house full-time.

  When the six-pack reached the Missouri state line, they merged off Interstate 35 into the rest area. She shifted the truck into park. The other vehicles followed suit. Not seeing David—the newest participant in their convoy—waiting, she decided to use the time to go the restroom.

  Rosalind glanced at her sleeping husband. It was odd to think of Allan as that, even funny in a weird way. He looked so comfortable, she opted not to wake him yet.

  She pulled the door handle, slipped outside, and stretched. A gloved hand covered her mouth and another grabbed her arms harshly. Rosalind’s muscles tightened as she fought her attacker. With surprising strength she was whirled around and body-slammed against the side of the truck.

  She groaned behind the hand over her mouth and found herself eye to eye with Tom Clark. Rosalind fought harder to no avail.

  His face twisted into an ugly sneer. “Rosalind honey, it’s good to see you. Hold still.” He squeezed harder. She stopped her struggles. “See, now that’s my girl. I’ve missed you. I thought we’d have time for a quickie before we’re on the road again.”

  Horror washed through her. The sweetness of his voice soured Helen’s chicken and she gagged at the thought of him kissing her. Renewing her efforts, she was able to wriggle against his hold and kicked him. Winning a victory, his hold loosened, but not the hand on her mouth.

  Shit. I can’t see anyone.

  “That wasn’t very smart,” Tom spat.

  Her arms hurt as Tom’s grip pinched them. Memories of his long ago slap flashed in her mind. Hatred set in.

  With a jarring shove, he wedged his foot between hers, forcing her legs apart, and pressed his body against hers.

  Rosalind fought harder, twisting her body and head, determined not to be the victim of his temper.

  “Tom Clark, get your hands off my wife!”

  Allan’s knife-cutting demand was electrifying. She ceased her struggles.

  “Ah, the husband has balls after all. I’m showing my sweet Rosalind I’ve never stopped wanting her. You must know how satisfying she is.”

  His hand lifted off her mouth. She gasped as air filled her lungs as she sagged forward. Tom locked his arms around her, dragging her alongside him.

  “Let me go!”

  “Shut up, slut,” Tom hissed into her ear.

  He tightened his hold, cutting off her air. She couldn’t think clearly.

  Allan advanced, never taking his eyes off Tom. “I said, let go of my wife.”

  Surprisingly Tom’s grip loosened, and she wriggled free, bolting to the safety of Allan’s arms.

  “Rosalind, are you okay?”

  “I-I am,” she stuttered as Allan hugged her.

  “Go, I want to have a little chat with our friend here,” he stated.

  As she hurried to the restroom, never looking back, Rosalind somehow managed to drum up a semblance of calm.

  Allan didn’t watch Rosalind leave; he heard the click of her boots grow softer, and that was enough.

  “This is your final warning, Clark. Stay away from my wife. She is mine,” he snarled, narrowing the space between them. “If you ever . . . and I mean ever touch Rosalind again, you’ll find yourself in jail.”

  Tom raised his hands but his grin held malice. “You can’t be by her side twenty-four-seven.” His aggressive stance proved he was primed for a fight.

  “Try me, bastard. If I even hear you’re in town, I’ll have you permanently banned from the bull riding circuit,” Allan growled.

  His anger had reached the point of no return. He took a step, grabbed Tom’s shoulders, and slammed him into the side of the truck, one fist raised.

  “Right, like you even have any clout with the circuit. You don’t. Empty threats,” Tom retorted.

  “Oh, I’ll have you banned. Everywhere.” Allan slowly loosened his hold and stepped back, fists ready in case Tom tried something. “You have no idea who I know. I have influential contacts all over the globe.”

  “I don’t like sloppy seconds anyway,” Tom jeered cruelly. “Enjoy the fact I was her first. When you’re done with her and go home to the Big Apple, she’ll come
begging for me.”

  Seething anger took over. Allan’s right hand met Tom’s stomach, then his left hand followed. Tom gagged and staggered forward. Allan grabbed Tom’s chin, yanking him up. “Stay away from her or you’ll regret it.” He shoved Tom away.

  Wheezing, Tom unsteadily stood. He rolled his shoulders and shook his head. “You’re the one who needs to stay away from me. Don’t get in my way.”

  “Walk now, Clark, if you want to be able to do it on your own,” Allan warned.

  “She was mine first! She shouldn’t have married you. The release of the photos and the videos should have been proof. I’m a free man. I can do what I want. We’ve got unfinished business.” Tom straightened and sauntered away.

  Allan held himself back from pursuit. The man was crazy. He waited for his fury to cool before looking for Rosalind. He’d dealt with sickos like Clark all throughout his childhood. Even sported black eyes, a broken nose and cracked ribs before being sent to the next foster care family.

  He’s picking on the wrong man. I’m no fool.

  Joe joined him. “I see you met Tom Clark. I can call the police. Did he try something?”

  “Nothing I couldn’t take care of. I’ll call Sheriff Hoffman. We’ll need to be on high alert from now on,” Allan said.

  “By all means. I’ll let Walt know too. Tell Rosalind David wasn’t able to meet us here. He’ll join us en route.”

  “Sure.” Allan’s breathing slowed as his adrenaline level lowered.

  Joe nodded and returned to the other truck. Rosalind reappeared, and Allan gave her a hug and a kiss.

  He held her face in his hands. “Are you injured or hurt?”

  “I’m fine. I’m sorry, I should’ve woken you up, but I thought you needed your sleep.”

  Allan tried to rein in his anger and irritation at witnessing Tom’s hands on his wife. “It’s okay. Max and Joe warned me about Tom. I don’t think we’ve seen the last of him. Was he in Las Vegas when we were there?”