Breaking the Bad Boy

by Vanessa Lennox

  Looking around she saw familiar faces standing around the barn, just watching it collapse and burn, they leaned casually on shovels and rakes to keep it from spreading to the big house. Her brain knew there was nothing to be done, but her heart wanted everyone to pitch in and make it stop. Her heart wanted Fernando to walk out of the barn intact and smiling. Her heart wasn’t going to have its way. She tucked her head down and hugged her knees to her and wept. She wanted Buck.

  She looked up, trying to find Buck. “Buck,” she said, looking around for him, but she didn’t see him right away. This time she did stand up, shedding the blanket and looking around. She took the oxygen mask off and wandered around a little wobbly, and was stopped by an EMT.

  “Hey, let’s put your mask back on, and you need a blanket,” he said gently compelling.

  “Where’s,” she started coughing uncontrollably, and the EMT ushered her back to her mask she shook her head and gasped. “Buck, where’s Buck?” She was going to lose it in a second if he didn’t help her find him. The EMT was shaking his head. Coughing and spluttering she sat down on the ground and let the tears come again. They poured out of her and she couldn’t do anything to make them stop.

  “Shit,” her dad said as Brand’s horse came galloping home without him.

  “He must be hurt,” Joss said running for the barn, for her own horse. He could only be one place, she thought, and she’d find him, she’d save him. She rarely used a saddle, and she slipped the bridle on and galloped to the pool, ignoring her father’s shouts. The men were behind her, but she had the faster horse and the lighter load and she could ride like the wind when she wanted to. She always wanted to.

  She knew he’d be at the pool; it was their place, a private place that held secrets they swore a blood oath never to reveal to any living soul. It was their secret.

  When she got to the meadow about a quarter mile away from the pool something made her slow down. There was something wrong with the meadow, there was no birdsong, that was it, she thought. What was frightening the birds? Who was here? She looked around, but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, so she cautiously walked her horse on.

  There was a narrow path between a large rock and a Ponderosa pine, and there was Brand, sprawled on his chest, his head at a most unnatural angle. If she didn’t know Brand, she’d think he’d fallen off his horse, but he was a better rider than anybody, including Joss.

  The men had caught up to her as she slid off her horse’s back and went to his body. Too shocked to say anything she touched his white blond hair, kneeling by his head. Little Brand, already cold. She heard her father let out a loud keening “No!”

  That was the last thing she remembered of that day until her mother’s screech as they came back to the ranch, Brent holding Brand in his arms. Fernando was holding her tightly and both of them were weeping openly. Joss’s heart was forever shattered.

  It took her a minute to realize she wasn’t alone under her blanket, someone lay behind her careful not to touch her back, but with his arms around her nevertheless. It could only be Buck, and she sobbed with relief. “Buck,” she whispered.

  “You’re back, good,” he whispered into her ear. “I ought to put you over my knee and spank you ‘till you bleed. Or strip you naked and make you scream my name all fucking night.” He bit her earlobe and she shuddered in his arms. “I’ll let you know what I decide.” He pulled his face away from her and coughed, then put his face back to her. She moved back a fraction so that her back was against his chest. It felt better than she thought it would, and they slept.

  Not much longer after that they were awakened and told to go to bed. “Just leave us, everything hurts,” Buck said. Joss sat up and looked around. He wasn’t kidding, everything did hurt, and sleeping on the ground wasn’t helping. “Don’t, don’t go.” He said to her and coughed, but she had made up her mind, and she plodded toward the house.

  When she got to the door of her bedroom she stopped and her mouth fell open in surprise. Her room was a mess; someone emptied every drawer of their contents, knocked the mattress off the bed and tore pictures off the walls. It looked like a bomb went off. She stood with her mouth open in the doorway staring in shocked disbelief at the destruction.

  “Shit.” Buck said. He was standing right behind her looking at the devastation over her shoulder. “Come on,” he gently took her hand and drew her away. He escorted her back down the hall, through the living room and then to the other side of the house to his room. It was neat and tidy, and he pulled back the covers and pointed. She climbed in, numb to everything, feeling like a sheep being led to slaughter. He climbed in right behind her and pulled her close, his hand cupping her breast gently. “I’ll have to spank you tomorrow, Duchess; I haven’t got the energy to do you justice tonight.”

  “Thank you, Buck,” she said and wept silently until she was unconscious, his fingers running gently through her hair.

  Joss slept well into the morning the next day. Buck was gone when she woke up, of course, and the only evidence of his having been there at all was the dirt and soot on his side of the bed. She was going to have to get her emotions straight with regards to Buck, but right now, smelling his scent underneath the smoke and burnt hair was not the time.

  He was the kindest asshole she had ever known, and if that wasn’t only scratching the surface of his mysteriousness, she didn’t know what was. He had saved her life twice, both times risking his own.

  She had to shower. She stood up, moving like an old woman and looked at her reflection in his mirror. “Fuck.” Her hair was completely gone on her left side, blackened tips framed her face. Her cami was filthy and torn, with several small burn holes here and there, and a big one across the back. There were large sooty fingerprints across her right breast. She huffed out a tired laugh. Her face was streaked from the tears she’d shed last night, for Fernando, and for Brand, and she had to admit for Buck when she thought he was gone, too.

  Much of her left breast was exposed down the side, and she saw blood caked there from a scratch. Her butterflies fluttered drunkenly in her stomach when she thought of how Buck had held her right breast through the night last night and she’d let him, she must have been in shock, there was no other explanation. She was lying to herself, it felt good, right somehow, and she almost decided she was in love with him, but shrugged it off. She couldn’t make any decisions like that right now, everything was still too raw.

  Coffee, she could smell coffee. She was secure about her relationship with coffee, and she plodded down the hall toward it. Buck was coming toward her.

  “You’re up,” he smiled at her. How could he look so damn good after a night like last night?

  “I’m up. Coffee,” she said walking past him.

  “Your Dad’s coming up the drive, I thought you’d want to know,” he said from right behind her.

  “Thank you, he wouldn’t like to know where I slept last night,” she said and turned to look at him hopefully.

  “He doesn’t have to know, but I’m kinda hoping it has become a habit for you.” He put a gentle hand on her shoulder and she faced him. He said nothing, just looked in her eyes with that damned unreadable expression.

  “You’re confusing me, Buck, and right now I can’t be logical,” she said.

  “Go with your gut,” he whispered.

  “My gut says to run like hell,” she whispered and he snorted.

  “Then go with my gut, it says you should run like hell into my arms and never look back.” Christ, what was he saying?

  “I’m a mess, Buck.”

  “No you’re not, Duchess,” he paused. “Okay, yes, you are, but a shower will take care of that. You’re still terrifying.”

  “I can’t make any rash decisions based on your gut, or any other part of your anatomy after spending the night in your arms last night,” she said very quietly. Buck’s body responded to the pleasurable memory of holding her. Christ it felt so good.

  “I didn’t take adva
ntage,” he said.

  “I know, and I know you’re waiting for me to make the first move, I just…”

  “Go get yourself cleaned up, you look like a singed kitten,” he said bending to brush his lips very lightly against hers. He looked into those deep eyes again and walked past her to the living room. She stood there stunned, until she heard the car doors slamming and snapped out of the trance he just put her in. Her dad didn’t need to see her exiting this side of the house.

  Grabbing a mug she filled it with coffee and almost sat down on the couch, but remembered the mess they’d left on Buck’s sheets and stood up again. Brent and Belle walked in with Buck right behind them. They looked at her and stopped in their tracks.

  “That’s the outfit you chose to fight fire in?” Brent asked and she almost laughed, but was overcome with wracking, painful coughs.

  “I also had boots, but I don’t know where they are,” she said when the coughs stopped. Where were her boots? They were probably in Buck’s room, she thought. “They made the outfit,” she said smiling. “I was sleeping in this, I didn’t think to change.” Her dad came across the room to hug her and she saw Buck stiffen, knowing the hug was going to hurt her. She held up a hand. “Wait Brent, I’m filthy and everything hurts, I’m just going to go shower and clean up a little,” she touched his hand leaving a smudge.

  “Your hair,” he said crunching the singed ends between his fingers.

  “My hair will grow back; I was tiring of it any way,” she suddenly remembered Fernando. “God, Dad, I couldn’t save Fernando.” Her eyes filled with tears, and Brent took her hands in his and pulled her gently to his chest. He held her for a moment while they both recovered themselves.

  “I know, honey, Buck told us. The sheriff’s been and gone,” Brent said and stepped back to look at her. “He also said you ran into that barn like an idiot, and that I would have saved him a lot of trouble if I had beaten you regularly when you were a kid.” She looked at Buck and he grinned at her.

  “Buck saved my life again; you might want to give him a raise.” Brent looked at Buck, the grin was gone. Clearly he hadn’t mentioned his own heroics.

  “She needs a full time minder, Brent, she’s a danger to herself,” he said shrugging his shoulders and she saw the pain in his eyes from the movement. The burning rafters must have hurt him.

  She looked a little more closely at Buck’s mouth, there was a smudge of soot from her lips there, and she smiled. Poor Brent.

  “Maybe hazard pay, too,” she said thinking of Brent shooting at Buck’s feet, and walked back to her wrecked room, as they watched.

  Brent walked over to Buck and extended his hand. “Thank you again, for keeping her safe. She means the world to me, Buck.” Buck nodded.

  “You are most welcome,” he said. Brent tightened his grip and Buck focused all his attention on him.

  “For God’s sake, be discreet,” Brent said between clenched teeth. “I don’t want to see anything; I don’t want to hear about anything. And don’t break her heart; I don’t want to have to slit your throat. You follow?” Brent asked.

  “Yes, you’ve made yourself quite clear,” Buck said.

  “Good. Then wipe your mouth.”

  Buck put a hand to his mouth and his fingers came away sooty. He looked at Brent and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

  “I’ll admit, this looks bad, but you should give her more credit than that, Brent. She’s had several propositions in the past few days, Christ; everyone who sees her wants her, and can you blame them? She’s had men coming all the way out from town with giant bouquets, and, I’ll admit it, my own attentions as well, but the woman is chaste,” he said.

  “Men have been after her like that since she was fourteen years old. I carried a sidearm until she went off to college. I don’t need you telling me about my own daughter, Buck.”

  “I think maybe you do,” Buck said calmly. Brent glared at him.

  “Maybe. Now tell me what the fuck is going on here,” Brent said slumping into the nearest chair, and Buck told him.

  Half an hour later Joss was showered and ready to have her wound dressed. Her room could wait; she didn’t have the energy to tackle it just yet. Who would ransack her room? Did it have anything to do with the “cable” guys at her apartment? What were they looking for? Did they start the fire to get her out of it? And finally, did they kill Fernando to start the fire? It was more likely that they killed Fernando and they started the fire to get rid of any evidence. Once everyone was tending the fire, Joss’s room was primed for searching.

  Buck must have moved her mattress back on the bed frame, and she wondered where he found time to do any work around the place after taking care of her all the time. It was nice to be taken care of, she thought, especially by a handsome long legged hero.

  She left the shambles of her room and ran upstairs and knocked on the master bedroom’s door, but there was no sound from within. The last thing she wanted to do was bump in to one of the horny ranch hands with her shirt off and no bra, so she tentatively walked back down and into the kitchen to look for her dad or Belle, but they weren’t there. She turned to go back to her room and there stood Buck, watching her. He seemed to always be there when she needed him.

  He took one look at her and knew exactly what she needed. “Come here,” he said sitting in one of the hard backed chairs around the table, then taking her by the hips and gently guiding her to his lap. He put a hand around for the ointment and she handed it to him. “Christ, this is nasty, Duchess,” he said and there went all her hopes that people would lie to her to spare her feelings. She huffed out a laugh. “Can you reach it with a scrub brush in the shower? I would like to volunteer, I fully understand the risks, your father having been fairly clear earlier when he saw my sooty lips,” he said and she chuckled.

  “That’s really very selfless of you, I’m touched.”

  “It’s just that this is pretty horrible,” he said quietly.

  “Don’t sugar-coat it, how does it really look?”

  “It looks like you and Freddy Kruger got into a tussle in the fireplace. It’s red and swollen and looks like it hurts, Duchess, and I don’t like the idea of you hurting.”

  “Me neither.”

  His strong fingers felt good through the pain on her back, and she closed her eyes and let it wash over her.

  “How is your back?” She asked in a rough voice.

  “My back?”

  “The roof fell on us, you must be hurt,” she said.

  “Oh that. It’s a little sore, I’ll maybe get a blister or two, I’ll be fine, Duchess.”

  “What about your chest?”

  “It itches a little when I think about it,” he said.

  “You’re a tough son of a bitch, aren’t you?” She sounded like she was going to fall asleep.

  “Uh-huh. If you were a man I’d classify you in the ‘tough son of a bitch’ category, but with you, Duchess, classifications fail me,” he said. She was relaxing under his ministrations, and he could now see the delicate curve of her breast where her clutched shirt had fallen partially away. Maybe he could make her relax even more and the whole shirt would fall away. Dammit, he was getting hard again. This woman unsettled him.

  He moved to the center claw mark, the deepest one and the longest one, and she hissed minutely so he went more gently there.

  “You are no man, you’re all woman. You are delectably soft in all the right places and with a healthy dollop of she-bear.” He came to the top claw mark, the shallowest one. “You are brave, maybe to the point of stupidity, strong, beautiful, pig headed, and irritating,” he was warming to his subject, but she stopped listening after beautiful. “You’re a pampered and spoiled rotten beauty queen, and sexy as hell.” He put his lips to an un-marred section of her back and she trembled with wanting him and began to turn in his lap. “And I want you so much I ache.” Her eyes were half closed and she had the fresh out of bed look to her that he found so tempting, so all
uring.

  He was holding her by the hips and helping her turn to face him on his lap. Their eyes remained locked as one of his long fingers slowly hooked the shirt she loosely held against herself and he unhurriedly pulled it from her unresisting hand. He moved his hands to her waist, the feel of her skin was irresistible and he pulled her closer as he sat forward to meet her, to kiss her. Joss watched his mouth come to hers as she felt his hands glide over her skin to her breasts. His long fingers deftly arousing her nipples.

  “Buck…” She touched his face and closed her eyes and her lips parted very slightly.

  Some noise from outside got her attention and she struggled out of her lust filled fugue state. Her eyes flew open and she saw the disappointment and guilt in his darkened eyes. She stood up and went to the window in time to see seven men armed to the teeth ride fast in the direction of the pool. “No!” She said and looked at Buck in a pained way and snatched up her shirt from the floor next to him. “No,” she said and ran out the door again clutching her shirt in front of her. “No,” she said again to her father who stood stock still in the yard watching the riders grow smaller. “Stop them,” she said and he turned to her. Taking in her half dressed appearance and getting angry about it. He turned to look at the house and there stood Buck just as flushed as she was.

  “Joss, that bear is a danger to all of us,” he said. “You’re a goddamn fool if you don’t think he’ll follow the trail of your blood right back to you and finish what he started. Don’t test me on this.” She pulled her shirt away from her chest and her father looked quickly away while she pulled it over her head as she ran to her horse. She swung up on to her mare’s back and galloped out of the yard.