Joyce, Rebecca - The Cattle Drive [The Armstrong Brothers of Cedar Creek] (Siren Publishing Classic)

by Rebecca Joyce

  Hell yes, he admitted to himself, that when they weren’t fighting they had a cosmic, electric chemistry going on between them. She was the most passionate woman he had ever met. He liked the feel of her, the taste of her on his lips. He liked her teasing, her playful attitude, and her soft smile that lit up her face.

  She was all he dreamt about lately. There were many mornings where he would awake to a racing heartbeat, sweat rolling down his body, and a full arousal that ached for release.

  All because of her.

  Michael turned to leave. He couldn’t watch them any longer. A moment more and he would not be held responsible for what his mind wanted to do to Chris. Placing his hat back on his head, he backed out of her office and headed for the back door.

  * * * *

  The slamming of the screen door brought Chris out of his lustful fog. Still holding Rachael in his arms, he felt victorious. He looked down at her to see an emotionless face.

  “You done?”

  “Rach—” Chris began but was interrupted.

  “Don’t even bother, Chris. You got it out of your system. I don’t want to talk about it, okay? I have work to do,” she firmly said, removing herself from his embrace and sitting back down at her desk.

  Avoiding the subject, Chris asked, “So how’s the drive looking?”

  “Good, the herd is almost thinned. We have managed to fix most of the fence line. Michael is taking the herd over to Fullers Bend, and Henry and Kenny are taking the ones for breeding over to Megan’s Stream. Just filling out the remaining orders and getting ready to contact this new ranch who will take the rest of the stock for a nice price. Looks like I am going to have to add an extra week to the drive,” she said, never looking up from her paperwork.

  “Well, I came by to ask and see if you would like to escort me to the festival on Sunday.” Chris smiled.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” She sighed, looking at him.

  “Come on. After the festival, you will be so damn busy, before I know it you will be on that damn drive. Take a day off and have some fun,” he pleaded.

  “Maybe you should ask someone else. I have a lot to do,” she said, turning her attention back to her paperwork. She soon picked up the phone and dialed a number.

  “Who are you calling?” Chris asked.

  “Crossfire Ranch. The owner of the ranch is going to take the rest of the herd for a pretty hefty price.”

  “Is that in Montana?” Chris said, looking at the paper on her desk.

  She didn’t answer him. She started talking into the receiver, occupied with details of the drive. Chris walked over and took the paper from her and looked at the order. There in his hands was an order form for three thousand head, needed in Silver Lake, Montana to be delivered no later than December first to Crossfire Ranch.

  Looking over to Rachael, he was going to say something, when she hung up the phone. “Okay, the order has been confirmed. All is good,” she said, taking the paper from Chris and putting it back on her desk. “Are you hungry? There are leftovers in the fridge.”

  “No, I’m good. Hey, Rach, about this ranch in Montana…”

  “I can’t talk now, Chris, I have to head out. We can talk later, okay,” she said, getting up and quickly giving him a kiss on the cheek as she left the office.

  * * * *

  That Saturday the ranch was making its final preparations for the upcoming drive. The R & R Ranch was overrun with young men, horses, and their gear. Rachael spent the better half of the morning getting the men’s information, while Kenny and Michael sorted them into groups. It was going to be a very long day, and she was determined to butt heads with Michael.

  He had been a complete bear the last couple of days. Not once had he said two words to her. He did everything he could to avoid her and the house. Something was bothering him, but when she asked Henry, even he had no clue. He, like the rest of the men, had made it their mission to stay far, far away from him.

  “Kenny, you take the group one out to Megan’s Stream. Henry, you’re with group two. Branding and corralling. Michael, you and I will take group three out to Fuller’s Bend for herding,” Rachael shouted out to the gathered men.

  “I will take group one. You and Kenny can head out to the Bend,” Michael sternly replied, mounting his horse. She didn’t even have time to contradict him, before he yelled, “Let’s get moving,” as he rode away.

  It was a very long day. The heat made the day linger on. By six o’clock, the sun had started to set, and Rachael had had enough. Looking at her watch, she knew most of the men would be heading back to the house. She kicked Mystic into a hard run and headed toward Megan’s Stream. The wind felt good against her face. It cooled her some, but what she wanted was a cool dip. Riding fast through the trees, the clearing appeared before her.

  Her little piece of heaven was nestled between several tall oak trees and luscious green grass. A sanctuary she named after her daughter, she would often come to this place and think. Dismounting, she walked over to the bank of the stream that emptied into a small lake pool. Looking around quickly, she hurriedly removed her clothing and dove into the cool water.

  The peace and quiet of her little piece of heaven was therapeutic and invigorating. Diving under the clear water, she swam beneath the water’s edge. She loved the feel of the water surrounding her in a cocoon of self-confidence. Coming up for air, she turned to swim back. The tension had all but left her body when she bumped into something.

  She screamed as the dead carcasses of four of her cows floated by her. The blood making its way through the pond soon surrounded her. Quickly trying to swim away from the decomposing animals, she began to panic. She couldn’t get around them. They were everywhere as the darkness of her oasis began to engulf her haven. Everywhere she turned, she saw blood and animals. Her heart began to race. She couldn’t get a grip on her situation. She forgot everything, where she was, what she was doing, and how to swim.

  The water grabbed a hold of her and pulled her under. Sucking in too much water, she couldn’t breathe. Again she went under. Trying as hard as she could, she came up and screamed once more before she was once again taken under with fright. The darkness surrounded her, and she soon felt herself falling into nothingness.

  * * * *

  Michael was sitting atop of Jasper watching the sun set when he saw Mystic fly across the ranch without a rider. Galloping after the horse, it didn’t take long to catch up with it. He leaned over and grabbed the reins and slowed the startled animal.

  “Whoa,” he said, trying to sooth the skittish animal. Mystic reared up and neighed a couple of times before she began to calm down. Holding firm to her reins, he headed back in the direction of where she came when he heard the screams. Letting go of Mystic, Michael kicked Jasper and headed off to find Rachael.

  The screams were panic. His blood turned cold, fearing the worst. He prayed he could reach her in time, not knowing what he would find. He did know one thing. He would kill the bastard if he was still around. Reaching the stream, he couldn’t see anything. Everything was pitch-black. He dismounted and started yelling her name, when he tripped over her boots. He leaned over and picked up her clothes, and realized she was in the pond. As he looked, he saw the carcasses. Diving in headfirst, he swam beneath the animals. Feeling his way through the water, he found her hand. He grabbed it and brought her to the surface. Making his way to the bank, he lifted her wet body in his arms and laid her on the cool grass.

  Starting CPR, he pumped her chest and tried to breathe air into her lungs.

  “Come on, Rachael! Breathe!” he shouted at her.

  Still nothing.

  Pumping her chest once again, he continued the CPR.

  He refused to let it end like this. He wouldn’t allow it. He had worked too hard and come too far to allow that bastard to win. More determined than ever, Michael concentrated on her. He had to save her. His mind took him back to that fateful night of the accident.

  He rememb
ered the snow was falling all around them, as blood covered every inch of her, and she wasn’t breathing. Though her wounds were extensive, something inside him told him she was a fighter. She wanted to live. She had to live. He would will her to live. Shaking off the memory of the past, he focused on the task at hand.

  Breathing into her mouth, Michael prayed to every God, man, woman, and child to give him the strength to save this hardheaded woman. He couldn’t lose her. He knew he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he did. She had become a part of him. Unknowingly, he had allowed this pain in the ass into his life, and even though they bickered and fought, he looked forward to the fighting.

  “Come on, baby! Breathe,” he shouted once again, and he blew air into her lungs.

  Rachael started coughing, and Michael started to cry. He grabbed her and held her close to him, hugging her tightly. Her limp, wet body began to breathe against him. He thanked god for every breath she took. Laying her back on the ground, Michael walked over to his horse and grabbed the blanket that was rolled up on the back of his saddle and wrapped it around her. He picked her up and carried her over to his horse and sat her on the saddle. Quickly climbing up behind her, she laid her head against his chest and closed her eyes. Michael kissed her head and quickly rode back to the house.

  As he approached the compound, he grabbed his walkie-talkie.

  “Kenny, meet me at the back of the house,” he quietly said, trying not to wake her.

  “Sure thing, boss.”

  Chapter 7

  Rachael woke the next morning feeling like she had been hit by a truck. Her whole body ached, and her chest hurt. Rolling over, she saw Michael sleeping in the chair against the wall.

  She smiled.

  He stayed with her. It seemed that whenever she needed him, he had always been there. Even from the first, on the horrible night in Montana, he was there. He was there when she desperately needed someone to help her drive the cattle, even though she did have to persuade him to do it. Then as if on cue, he was there to save her once again from water. What was it about him that he felt compelled to be her saving grace?

  This whole scene was getting out of hand. When she wanted him around, he was nowhere to be found, and when she couldn’t stand to be within five miles of him, he was everywhere.

  He looked so peaceful sitting there in that chair even though she knew he was going to have one major crick in his neck. Of course, he would complain about it until she screamed, but she couldn’t help but marvel at the thought of him, his kindness, and his sincerity. He could evoke emotions within her like no other.

  She loved the way he held her when he kissed her, and his playful attitude that day in his bedroom. He was a proud man, an honest man. He was a good father. Fair and smart.

  Lying there, she felt the heat rise to her face.

  Holy crap! She was falling in love with him.

  No!

  Lust… yes. Love…oh hell no!

  The admission startled her. She must have swallowed too much pond water. “Girl, you have lost your mind,” she whispered to herself. Getting out of bed, she walked over to him. Standing there, she looked down at him. He looked so tired. Softly sitting on his lap, she leaned in and softly kissed his warm lips.

  Michael stirred, opening his eyes as she pulled away. The look in her eyes confused him. He had seen her mad, upset, hungry with lust, and ready to kill, but this look was different. He couldn’t make it out, and honestly he really didn’t want to.

  “I have things to do,” he said, removing her from his lap. He stood and stretched. His back was killing him.

  Walking toward the door, she whispered, “Michael?”

  He stopped but didn’t turn to look at her. “Yeah.”

  “Thank you.”

  “No problem.”

  * * * *

  It was the day of the festival, and Michael and Kenny headed out to the corral to announce who was staying at the ranch and who was going on the cattle drive. With the decisions made, they headed out to the corral where everyone was assembled, awaiting their decision. As they approached, Michael grabbed the clipboard from Kenny and began to speak.

  “If I call your name, you are going on the drive,” he spoke loudly. Kenny stood next to him and waited. As Michael read the names, Rachael came outside and sat on the porch. She watched the group begin to separate themselves. It didn’t take long at all, and before she knew it, Henry was the last one standing. Rachael smiled at the boy. He had worked so hard to get to this point, and she couldn’t wait to have him on the drive.

  Michael looked at his son, and he quickly turned away to walk back into the house.

  He didn’t say his name.

  Rachael stood as Michael passed her. She followed him into the kitchen.

  “You want to tell me what just happened out there? I thought it was decided that Henry was going?” she said, facing him with her hands on her hips.

  “You decided. I didn’t. Henry stays here,” Michael said firmly and walked over to the coffeepot, pouring a cup.

  “Damn it, Michael. That boy has worked his ass off for this. He deserves to go.”

  “I said no,” he said after taking a drink.

  “Why?”

  “I have made my decision, Rachael. Drop it.” And he grabbed his jacket and walked out the door.

  Rachael quickly ran after him only to find him mounting Jasper and heading home. Henry walked up to her with questions in his eyes.

  “I know. I am just as surprised at you. Let me talk to him. Go help Kenny put the horses away,” she said, walking over to grab Mystic’s reins, and soon she was on top of the horse galloping after Michael.

  She found Michael sitting in his living room, staring into space, listening to Debussy with his head in his hands. She slowly walked over to him and sat down next to him, and after a couple of minutes he finally turned to look at her.

  “I won’t discuss this with you,” he shouted.

  “Why?” she demanded.

  “I told you before I don’t want this life for him. He is better than everything around here. He has a good future. I can’t let him give all that up for a life of ranching.”

  “Michael, that boy is almost eighteen. Soon you won’t be able to stop him.”

  “Watch me.”

  “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  Michael grunted and cursed as he walked over to the sofa and sat. He did not want to have this discussion with her. He wanted her to leave, but he couldn’t tell her to go. His mouth wouldn’t let the words slip past his lips. He sat there looking at her with her hands on her hips, her eyes shooting hot daggers at him. He couldn’t help but smile.

  That damn infuriating woman escapes death not even twenty-four hours ago, and she still looks good enough to eat. He couldn’t help himself to a look. She did look mighty tasty, and boy did that wake-up kiss rev his engines. It took all his willpower to walk away like he did.

  “You never did tell me. Where exactly are we headed?”

  “We have three stops in Wyoming and the final stop in Silver Lake, Montana,” she told him.

  Michael went ashen and stiff in a matter of seconds. “He’s not going. That’s final!” he said, screaming, getting to his feet, walking upstairs, and slamming his bedroom door.

  Rachael just stood there… pissed!

  * * * *

  The town of Cedar Creek was a myriad of booths, dancing, food, and laughter. The townspeople all came out to wish the R & R Ranch a bon voyage and happy trails. With the summer beating down on them, and fall not far away, the town was eager to get into its holiday cheer, and the festival was the start of that.

  Booths were adorned with twinkling lights and fall colors. Pies, cakes, jams, cookies, and treats of all kinds were given away for little to nothing. The craft tables were adorned with quilts, cloths, and other items made from hand. The corrals were filled with prizewinning pigs, cows, and steer, all awaiting the coveted blue ribbon. Music filled the air as people lau
ghed, danced, and enjoyed themselves.

  Chris was there to pick up Rachael by five in the afternoon, and when she walked out of the house, she took his breath away.

  Rachael stood there in a vibrant yellow dress that fell to midthigh, a white shawl draped over her shoulder, and a pair of silk ribbon heels that accentuated her slender legs. Her hair fell around her in a cascade of curls, and there was a white gardenia behind her ear, and when she smiled, her whole face lit up with life. Chris stood there staring at her and smiled.

  “Pick your jaw up and let’s go,” she said, getting into his truck.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said, jumping in and heading off into town.

  * * * *

  The festival was in full swing when Michael and Henry arrived. Henry soon found a pretty girl from school and soon was off running around with her, leaving Michael to wander alone through the festival. He soon found the open bar and sat. Nursing his third beer, he recognized the man who sat down next to him.

  Ignoring him, Michael drank his beer.

  “So you must be the organic farmer I have heard so much about,” the older man said after ordering a whiskey.

  “That’s right,” Michael replied.

  “So how’s the farming going?” the man asked.

  “It’s not.”

  “I thought so, since you have been spending all you time out at the R & R ranch.”

  Michael looked over at the man, who was just a hair shorter than he was. His silver hair was still thick, and his firm jawline told Michael he did like to beat around the bush, but when Michael looked the man in the eye, he was taken aback. His green eyes smoldered with anger, and it was directed at Michael.

  “What do you want?” Michael said, turning his attention back to his beer.

  “I am Judge Clark.”