by Reece Butler
She went still. The box she hadn’t yet opened.
“Oh, shit,” she whispered.
She was suddenly too hot. She lifted the sheet and furiously fanned herself. All those lectures from her mom about being prepared, and she’d had unprotected sex. She’d never, ever figured she’d be so swept up in the moment that she’d do something so stupid! Her breath had never caught when a man looked at her. She’d never trembled at his touch. She now knew her body could turn off her mind. Too late.
It was her fault. She’d been the one too needy to think. She’d backed up and filled herself with his cock. Once more, she’d done something stupid, not thinking.
She quietly groaned, clutching the sheet in her fist rather than pounding the bed and waking Houston. He’d want to know what was wrong. She couldn’t tell him. It was only once. Surely she couldn’t get pregnant?
Oh, yes, she could.
It was common knowledge that her parents had unprotected sex within fifteen minutes of meeting. Her father was drunk, something he hadn’t done in twenty years. Her mother was eager to lose her virginity and horny for the first time in her life. Nine months later they had a daughter and named her Lila.
Houston hadn’t been drunk, but she had certainly been horny. She wanted children, but not like this, and not now! She’d planned to go to a sperm bank once she was settled in her life. Maybe in four years or so, before she turned thirty. Was Houston the type of man who, if he knew there was a child, would insist on keeping contact?
Whoa! She was jumping to conclusions that were not necessary. She wouldn’t lie if Houston asked her if she was on the pill, but she wasn’t going to raise the subject. She would know in a few weeks if there was anything to worry about. Houston needed to concentrate on healing. He didn’t need the stress.
If she did get pregnant from this, her dad would go ballistic. Papa would be happy for her, as he was looking forward to the next generation to care for the ranch. Papa wasn’t as ridiculously controlling as Dad, who’d made sure she didn’t have a boyfriend in high school. As soon as a boy even winked at her with interest, Dad gave him that grizzly bear look, and she was dropped like a rock.
She wanted to smack her head against a brick wall. Once more, she’d indulged in risky behavior with thinking it through. She doubted it would be the last time. All she could do was put it behind her and move on. Eventually she’d almost forget about it, just like she had the other crazy things she’d done.
Unless she got pregnant.
She wanted at least two children, and was fine with raising them without a father around. She planned to hire a housekeeper anyway, so why not find a single mom who would be happy to share the home? There were more than enough cousins and uncles to give her children strong male attention, so no husband was necessary. This was not good timing, but her mother said babies rarely appeared when it was convenient.
Maybe Houston would sign off on all parental rights, knowing she and her family would raise the baby without him having to pay support or be involved. Lots of men didn’t want kids. She’d certainly learn more about him, and his opinions, before anything needed to be said.
She’d survived being tossed off a bull and nearly stomped, and the lectures and punishment that followed. She’d punched Tank in the face and survived being called some very nasty things. There was nothing she could do about her latest episode except make sure it never happened again. No matter the consequences, she’d deal with it as she had every other time, with her head high and back straight.
Houston’s slow, calm breathing reminded her just how tired she was. Worry about finding hired hands and a need to get as much done as possible before her parents left had cut into her sleep. Houston’s warm chest, expanding and contracting against her back, soothed her. She put the memory of her stupidity in a box, folded it up, and shoved it in the back of her mind with the other ones.
With luck, she’d never have to think of it again.
Chapter Nine
Eric straightened as Lila’s pickup pulled into the yard. The dark head did not belong to his daughter. Matt had described this Jet character when he’d phoned. He’d also said the second guy was asleep in the truck in the yard. The truck was empty, and neither Lila or Houston were around. He’d figured Lila had gone to check fences and Houston was crashed in one of his son’s bedrooms.
He growled a few curses in South American Spanish. His years working in the Peruvian jungle had taught him more than a language. He and Tom White had helped a lot of people. Tom wasn’t seen by the locals often, but they’d called him a grizzly bear for more than his size and hairiness. He could be one mean son of a bitch. Any teen sniffing around his daughter found that out pretty damn quick.
He’d been preparing for this day for twenty-five years, since he first held that tiny blonde baby in his arms. It didn’t make it any easier. Maybe if he hadn’t scared off every guy who looked at her…He cursed again, this time at himself. All under the bridge. His daughter was a grown woman, and there was a damn good chance she’d be hauling a man or two into her bed soon after her parents headed to the airport.
Matt had made his opinion clear on the phone. Part of Lila’s so-called interview with Jet had included a heavy duty kiss. Matt insisted Eric was to do whatever he could to encourage Lila’s happiness, and it was past time she took a man to her bed. He didn’t have to like it, but that was how grandchildren were created, and Matt wanted grandkids.
So did Nikki. Now that their wife had retired, she’d gone all domestic. Marci had even given her cooking lessons! He winced, remembering her last attempt. He’d finished every bite, though.
Tom had given the A-OK on both men, which helped. Dorothy had even offered them pie for breakfast. She had a sixth sense with people, and had never, to Eric’s memory, given anyone pie before lunch. The clincher was that his dear wife had ordered him to encourage Lila to work things out with Jet and Houston. As in, encourage her to enjoy sex.
He might be the head of the family, and Nikki’s Dom, but when a wife really wanted something, a man was smart to listen. Especially when they were heading off to the equivalent of a honeymoon. He couldn’t wait to check out a few castle dungeons. Some of the engineering aspects fascinated him. He and Keith Adams would also get some good ideas for BDSM furniture and medieval toys to sell through their new Internet business. Keith and Donny’s sons, Riley and Travis, were taking over the J Bar C Ranch, just as Lila wanted to do with the Circle C. That meant the older generation had to move on. Why not do what they enjoyed?
If Lila made it through the first month without them, the two families would buy RVs and tour for the rest of the summer. He hadn’t realized how many events there were for kinky people to attend. Future clients, in other words.
Eric grunted when Jet stepped out of the truck. Coal-black hair explained his name. The man held the door, and Rascal jumped out. What the hell? That dog went everywhere with Lila. How had Quartermain convinced Rascal to go with him? And Lila allowed it? Matt was right. Their daughter must really like the guy.
Since the new hand was paying him no attention, Eric moved closer to the door while he wiped grease off his hands with a rag. He had to walk around a couple of machines that needed fixing to get there. He meant to get at them but there were always other things with a higher priority. Creating medieval-looking torture devices using modern materials was a fascinating engineering challenge. His scowl faded at the thought of Lila’s new mechanic fixing the boring ranch equipment while he was gone. He’d better damn well fix it all!
“To hell with it.”
He tossed the rag aside and moved toward the open garage door. Rascal caught sight of him and woofed a greeting. The young man ignored the dog, continuing to reach into the back seat of the truck for an insulated chest. Right. Lila said she needed a big tub of ice cream to keep her company while they were away. She’d never been alone at the ranch for more than a day or two before. Until this morning, everyone had figured the family would have
to take turns helping Lila with chores. Now that she had hired hands, they’d be keeping an eye on the men. Eric hustled, stretching his long legs to get to the kitchen door first. He held it open.
“Freezer’s on your left,” he said.
Quartermain met him eye to eye. The assessment was short. The man didn’t duck his head, nor did he try to puff up. Eric grinned once Jet was past. Matt was right. His little girl might have chosen someone worthy of her. Though it burned his ass, he had to accept his daughter’s choice. He still didn’t like the idea of her having sex, but if he screwed things up, not only would Nikki and Matt be mad at him, Lila might turn against him. He didn’t know how he would live with that. He loved both his sons, but a daughter was different.
He started warming the stew while Jet emptied the truck. Since the young man wouldn’t ask where things went, and Eric wasn’t going to volunteer, it took a while. Jet’s last load was a pair of duffel bags and a few things from the Tanner’s Ford Mercantile.
“Coffee’s on the stove,” he said. “You eat in town?”
“No, sir. I did what needed to be done.”
The man grabbed a mug from the hook tree on the table and filled it to the brim. After a brief taste he took a gulp. That was the first test. Any man who had to decide on a mug, or drank coffee any way other than black, might not make it on a ranch. Matt said the men had just got out of the army, which was another point in their favor.
“Help yourself to some stew.”
Eric pointed to the bowls. Jet lost no time grabbing one and filling it. Once more he tested it with a small spoonful before diving in. Nikki’s stew was okay, but it wasn’t worth savoring compared to what Marci prepared. Jet not only had manners, he’d been hungry a time or two. The man held himself well, gave respect but didn’t back down, and Lila wanted him.
Shit! He had to eat crow, but he’d put a few things on the table.
“I’ve got a few things to say about my daughter,” he said when Jet’s mouth was full. He raised his chin. He would explain, not apologize. “I pushed her, wanting her to be everything she could be. She loved every minute, grinning up at me with that dirty face, pigtails sticking out.” He paused, remembering the little girl who’d grown up too fast.
“When she got a few curves her cousins started treating her like a girl instead of a buddy. They wanted to do teenage boy things, and that meant no females hanging around. All of a sudden there was no more riding off bareback, skinny-dipping in the hot pool, and camping under the stars. She lost her pals, all but Danny and TJ. Danny wasn’t interested in chasing girls, so he stayed as her best buddy. TJ dated around, but he was there when Lila needed him. And I scared away any boy who came sniffing around.”
“Why are you telling me this, Mr. Frost?”
Eric looked straight at the young man. Tom said Jet had been banged up by life and was still kicking back. Matt said it was only a matter of time before Lila got naked with both men. Even in these few minutes Eric could tell Jet was head and shoulders better than anything available within a hundred miles. The two army vets were Lila’s chance to find out what happened when a man appreciated a woman. No matter how much it made her father’s gut hurt, Lila needed a man or two in her life. Not to make her happy, but to help her release the happiness she’d locked away when she’d been shunned by the boys.
“I want Lila to prove herself as a rancher while we’re gone, but she doesn’t have the confidence. She tries to do too much, all at once.” He motioned for Jet to help himself to more stew. “She’s fine with me and Matt around to make sure she follows through, but when she’s on her own she doesn’t finish. She’ll be working away, then suddenly remember she wants to do sixteen other things. She needs someone she can trust to keep her on track. That way she’ll be able to finish a job well, and be proud of it.”
Jet finished his mouthful. “Why me?”
“Other than there’s nobody else around?” Eric blew out his breath. “We’re going on gut instinct here. I’ve heard good things about you from Matt, Josh Gibson, and Jeb Tanner. From what I’ve just seen, you’re organized, neat, and someone’s taught you manners. You’ve also been hungry before, and if you’ve been in the army for a few years, you should be able to take and give orders. I like what I’ve seen of you so far.”
The second bowl was almost gone.
“Marci’s making a big supper,” said Eric. “Make sure you leave room.”
“Marci?”
“Marci MacDougal is my wife’s sister, and the best cook in the valley. She’s part of the MD Connected Ranch with her husbands, Simon and Lance. They don’t look it, but they’re twins, as are their boys, Brody and Ross.”
Sparks would erupt when the twins saw Jet had staked a claim on Lila. After Danny’s death, Brody and Ross took over as Lila’s protectors in spite of her refusal to accept their interference. They wouldn’t take this lying down. Should he warn Jet about the potential for a bit of friendly fisticuffs? Nah, he’d let him go into it blind. It would show his true character.
“You’ll be meeting most of the family tonight, at the MacDougal ranch.”
Jet’s spoon hesitated for a second, then continued its journey for another scoop.
“Something special going on?” he asked.
“We just had a bon voyage party at a wedding the other week, but Marci loves feeding people. She’s arranged a going away party for us and the J Bar C. That’s Aggie, Keith, and Donny Adams. We’re all going on this big holiday the women cooked up.”
“You got a map?”
Eric pointed to the wall. A map of Tanner’s Ford Valley took up a good chunk of it.
“This was made from aerial photographs. Boundary lines are black, creeks and rivers blue, and roads and paths orange. Places where cattle like to hide during roundup are marked with white dots. Dangerous areas, such as drop offs, are red. Lila added family trees with each ranch’s name and brand.”
Jet went closer. He took the whole thing in, and then ran his eyes from left to right across it, studying it carefully.
“There’s a couple of Elliott ranches west of us,” continued Eric. “Sam and Trey run the Bitterroot as well as the Rocking E, though Ashley’s come home now. She had lots of foster brothers when she was growing up, and was pampered a bit, so she’s not the rancher Lila is.” He walked over and tapped the map. “Jack and Brick Taylor run the Flying X to the east of us. Past Climax to the south is the Anchor Ranch. Ty Gibson’s the ranch boss, as Josh spends most of his time working the law.”
“I had the pleasure of meeting Sheriff Gibson earlier.”
Eric held back a grin at the touch of sarcasm. The young man had attitude, which was appreciated locally, as long as he could back it up with hard work. He moved his finger across the wide blue line representing the river.
“Dare and Grant McInnes run the Running W to our south. They’re twins, Lila’s age. The Adams boys, Riley and Trav, just got married the other week.”
“Their parents the ones going with you?”
“Yep. Those J Bar C boys are as eager to prove themselves as Lila. The Double Diamond is next.” He tapped the glass over the hot spring, marked in blue. “I hear Rikki Langford’s planning to use the spring to draw tourists. Nothing better for your bones on a raw spring day than to soak in that hot pool.” He sighed, remembering a few good times. “The last ranch south of the river is the MD Connected. That’s where we’re heading tonight.”
“Will I be quizzed on this later?”
Eric grinned. He was going to enjoy putting this young buck through his paces. Since the other one was injured, he wouldn’t be as much fun to squelch.
“Matt said you’ve met Tom and Dorothy White. They’ve got two sons, TJ and TN.” He paused. “TN is short for Sebastian. It makes sense when you hear his father yelling at him.”
The corner of Jet’s mouth quirked up. “I met Mr. White and his lovely wife this morning, I hear he has excellent investigative skills.”
Eric knew T
om back when he was an operative for at least one of those alphabet agencies in Central and South America. That information was not shared with anyone. Tom was already digging into Jet’s details. His old buddy would soon know more about this young man and his friend than either of them knew about themselves.
“He does. Is Houston your brother?”
“No, sir. Houston is an army buddy. He got hit on a recovery mission. He was a mechanic.”
“Was, or is?”
“Is. He’ll fix all that equipment you were hiding behind in the machine shed.”
Eric barked a laugh. “Saw me, did you?”
Jet shrugged, a small movement that said a lot. He didn’t need to boast. He rinsed his bowl and spoon in the sink. He opened the dishwasher and, after checking to make sure the other dishes were dirty, set the bowl and spoon inside.
“If your buddy needs help to heal, we’ll make arrangements,” said Eric. “We’ve got a full-time physio and massage therapist working at the rehab facility. It’s part of the seniors’ home, which used to be the old Tanner’s Ford Hotel.”
“Is that the old red brick building set against the mountain?”
“Yep. Your buddy can get all the medical care he needs there. Does he have any other name?”
“He’s called Houston,” said Jet, pushing his shoulders back. His posture dared Eric to question him.
“Gotcha,” said Eric. He’d get the rest from Tom. “Is he from Texas, or is that one of those army names that means something else?”
“He’s a Texan, complete with boots, belt buckle, cowboy hat, and drawl.”
Eric pointed at the Tanner’s Ford Mercantile bag on the floor. “You just buy that?”
“Yes, sir. We needed work clothes.”
“There’s a set of bedrooms on the right with a bathroom between them. Our boys live there when they’re home, which isn’t often. I figure your buddy’s crashed in one of them. Lila’s on the left, and we’re down the hall at the end.”
“Thank you.” The young man grabbed his bags and headed for the stairs.