“I’m leaving tomorrow.” Desi’s voice cracked. “I don’t ever want to see you again, Rambo.”
“Come on Desi, you don’t mean that.”
“Yes. Yes, I do.”
Mason closed his eyes thinking how their ending came so subtly. No yelling and screaming. No fanfare of any kind. It just ended. He didn’t feel sad-- more weary and worn out. He sat up and pulled on his boots. Crawling out of the tent, he heard Desi crying, but he could offer her no comfort. He zipped up the flaps. Walking over to the case of whiskey, he picked up a new bottle. Mason found a long stick and sat down by the fire. Drowsy flames burned beneath the red smoldering coals. Poking them, they flared back to life. Voices drifted up from the river, bordering the farm, but the campsites were dark and quiet. He opened the bottle and took a long drink. Not even its fire soothed him.
Mason grabbed a piece of firewood and threw it on the fire. Sparks flew. He hadn’t realized his reaction to Ellen had been so obvious. The two women were so unlike each other. Ellen didn’t appear to be a high maintenance woman like Desi. But then again, maybe that came from Desi being so damn beautiful. Desi craved attention all the time. If she didn’t get enough, she made it known. Like she just had.
Mason pushed another lawn chair out in front of him, resting his boots on it. He looked up into the night sky. Already in the east the morning light was beginning to subdue the darkness. He had busted his butt to be in the Sons of Thunder so he could ride with brothers and have no responsibilities to hold him back. That’s how he pictured his life. Now, the possible job offer from Jack put a whole new spin on things. Mason’s life would become unpredictable and dangerous. The aspect of danger didn’t bother him, it kept the mundane at bay, but it was another good reason not to be burdened with a family.
Ellen’s laughter interrupted his thoughts. Mason turned his head toward the direction of Mad Dog’s tent and listened. The rattle of a soft breeze slipping through tree branches was all he heard. One thing Desi was right about; if she wasn’t here, Ellen would be sleeping in my tent.
Staring into the fire, Mason took another drink of whiskey. He should throw some more wood on, but he didn’t have the energy to get up and get it.
“Shit!” Mason said to the empty circle of chairs, laying his head back on his shoulders. The ageless light of the stars blinked and crickets crooned to their mates, who hid in the darkness and tall grass. He longed for sleep.
***
Knees drawn up to her chest, arms hugging them, Ellen watched Mad Dog spread the sleeping bag over the inflatable mattress and toss two pillows at the far end.
“Come my damsel in distress, your bed chamber awaits.” Mad Dog waved his hand over the crude mattress.
Giggling, Ellen crawled onto the open sleeping bag and rested her head on the pillow. Mad Dog sat next to her, covered them with a blanket then lay back, turning on his side. A small LED lantern turned the interior a gentle blue. They faced one another.
Ellen studied him. The coal blackness of Mad Dog’s eyes no longer looked cold and menacing. Mellow, like a dense red wine, they drew her to safety. The earthy scent of his clothes, the smoke tangled in his hair and the soft blush behind his beard accentuated his masculinity. “So what do we do now?” Ellen braved the question.
“What do you want to do?”
Self-conscious, she swallowed. “I don’t know. I never had a one night stand before.”
Mad Dog smiled.
“What’s so funny?” Sweat beaded across her hairline. Nervous energy accelerated her pulse.
He rose up on his elbow. “What makes you think I have?”
“You never had a one night stand?”
Mad Dog shook his head.
“I don’t believe you. You’re making fun of me. All guys have had one night stands.”
“Really? And how, may I ask, do you know that?”
“I don’t know. Isn’t it an unwritten law of manhood? All the love stories I’ve ever read, the hero is always a roguish ladies’ man. Love um and leave um type.”
“I haven’t read too many love stories unless--Playboy counts--but I’ve never had sex with a woman one night and not seen her again. I’m sure I could be persuaded to give it a try though.” His dark eyes twinkled. “Mrs. Abrams, does this mean you consider me your hero?”
“Well let’s see… First, I was threatened with my life if I didn’t return with you. Second, I suffered a third degree burn on my ankle--”
Mad Dog winced. “How’s that doing anyway?
“I can’t feel a thing. I’m too drunk. But to get back to this hero business….” She continued to count off his transgressions on her fingers. “Thirdly, some drunk wanted a foursome. Fourth, I witnessed a vicious fight. And fifth, Spider wanted me to pet his tattooed dick. That’s not even counting Desi wanting to bitch slap me around all night and, oh yeah, you taught me how to smoke an illegal substance. So what do you think?” Ellen arched her eyebrows.
“Shit. When you put it like that, I guess I’m not exactly the hero kind of guy.”
They laughed.
“So, Ellen, I know your husband passed away, but there’s not some jealous cowboy going to come looking for me when you get back home, is there?”
“No,” she sighed. “There’s no one. There hasn’t been anyone since Paul died. I’ve resigned myself to a quiet life of celibacy.”
Ellen looked up at the canvas ceiling. The early morning dampness clinging to the tent walls chilled her. She tucked the blanket under her chin.
“I know how you feel,” Mad Dog replied.
“I know. Dee started to tell me about your wife’s--” Ellen stopped, recognizing the vulnerability in Mad Dog’s eyes. Despite his size, she knew pursuing the conversation would rip away the thin façade of strength he desperately clung to. She changed the subject. “I can’t wait to tell my sister I spent the night with a biker.”
Mad Dog grinned. “I’m sorry we forced you to come back with us. We had no right. But we wanted you to be safe.”
“I know that now.” She sat up, pulling her knees to her chin. “It’s been quite the experience, but I’m glad I’m here. Think of the stories I have to tell. And sleeping with a handsome biker dude in his tent is so much better than telling people I slept alone in my car.”
Giggling, Ellen covered her face with her hands and then wrapped them around her knees. “It seems like forever since I’ve had fun. I’ve never done anything like this before. I don’t go out much. It’s hard getting into a relationship when there’s a kid involved. I think the last date I had lasted about an hour before the guy went screaming into the night.”
“Come on, you’re an attractive woman. I’m sure there’s been a lot of guys who wanted to date you.”
Ellen looked at him then lay back down, turning to face him. She propped herself up on her elbow, resting her head in the palm of her hand. “You’re very sweet. There’s been a few… but not a lot. If I don’t scare them off, my son does. Not too many men want to take on a ten-year-old autistic boy.”
Ellen looked into his dark eyes and wondered why their close proximity didn’t conjure the same edgy energy as Mason? Why didn’t his eyes strip her naked? She reached up and patted down the collar of his flannel shirt.
“Did you do that for your husband?”
“Do what?”
Mad Dog’s eyes moved to her hand.
“Oh!” Ellen smiled. “Paul was a contractor. He wore T-shirts mostly.”
“I’d have thought he’d have a desk job.”
“Paul? No. He loved being outside and doing physical work.”
Mad Dog put his hands behind his head. His chest expanded.
“Why aren’t you with a woman tonight, Mad Dog?”
“I thought I was with a woman.”
“You know what I mean?” Ellen frowned.
“I haven’t even thought about dating yet.” He sighed, reaching for the lantern behind him, then switching it off.
The white light o
f the moon soaked the tent’s interior with a gentle brightness. Mad Dog’s strong, angular features softened. “Besides there aren’t too many women who want to take on an ornery-assed biker and his three kids.”
“Three kids.” Ellen put her hand on his shoulder. “It must have been hard… to lose their mother so tragically.”
Mad Dog slipped his arm beneath Ellen’s neck, pulling her closer. She felt the heat of his body.
“Tell me about them.”
“My son Sean is twenty. He’s the oldest. He’s going to NWTC, majoring in forestry, and don’t ask me where he got his brains. Certainly not from me. And then there’s Tess, my seventeen-year-old daughter. She’s a junior. I don’t know what she wants to do except take care of me and her younger sister, Amelia. Amelia is twelve, going on twenty-five. She’s my devil child. Exactly like her old man.” He looked at Ellen, grinning.
Ellen smiled. “Are you implying I might be seeing Amelia at my school some day?”
Mad Dog laughed. “Wouldn’t surprise me at all, Mrs. Abrams.”
Ellen snuggled closer, listening to the night sounds outside the tent. In the distance people laughed. A warm breeze rippled against the tent.
“You know, Mad Dog, when I was sitting out there on the highway, I realized how alone I was. Even if my cell phone had worked, I had no one to call. If something would have happened to me, no one would have known.” Ellen sniffled. “It was the most terrified I’ve ever been.”
“You’re not alone anymore Ellen. You have all of us now. The Sons of Thunder will take care of you,” Mad Dog said as he wiped a tear from her face with the cuff of his sleeve. “If you need your car fixed, I can do it. Spider is as good a carpenter as they come. And if you need anyone killed, Rambo will take care of it.”
Ellen laughed. “Yes, I believe he would.”
“What more do you need?” He hugged her closer. “Stop crying. If you don’t, you’re going to get me going,” he whispered.
“I can’t help it.”
He stroked the hair back from her face, his rough hands, tenderly wiping away the tears. Ellen relaxed, feeling safe for the first time in a long while. “Thank you for all you’ve done for me tonight. Considering I crashed your party, you’ve all been very nice. Well, except for Desi.”
“Desi’s usually cool, but she’s got Rambo for a boyfriend. And Rambo, well he’s Rambo.”
“Do you think she’s jealous of me?” Ellen didn’t let him respond. “She’s gorgeous. I’m so out of her league. So why the hostility? If my husband Paul had seen her dancing up there on that trailer, he would have thought he died and went to heaven. No pun intended.”
Mad Dog yawned. “I think you underestimate your appeal, Mrs. Abrams.”
A long silence ensued as Ellen considered Mad Dog’s remark. Was it possible Mason was attracted to her as much as she was to him? The possibility made Ellen giddy, but she quickly dismissed it. No man would go for a woman like her, when he had Desi. Not in Ellen’s life time.
“Mad Dog,” she whispered.
“Yeah.”
“I know you’re tired, but do you suppose you could do me one more favor?”
“What is it?”
“Do you think maybe you could …” Ellen hesitated.
Mad Dog propped himself up on his elbow, his dark eyes questioning. “Could I what?”
Ellen bit her bottom lip. “Do you think you could kiss me?”
Ellen looked away. “It doesn’t need to mean anything. It’s been so long since a man has kissed me, I worry if it’ll ever happen again…. Sometimes I feel so old.” Her voice quivered.
“Ellen, are you asking me for a one night stand?”
“Would that be so terrible?” She brought her hand to his bearded cheek. “I want you to make me feel eighteen again…. When dreams evolved and as kids we knew it all. Before autism… before death.”
Ellen smiled slightly, catching a glimpse of deep understanding in his eyes.
Mad Dog moved over her.
Warm breath on her face, his strong frame surrounding her, she clasped her hands around his neck, surrendering to the moment.
“That’s a tall order for one kiss,” he whispered. “But I’ll try.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
At 6:45, Mason’s wrist-watch beeped. He opened his eyes to a sun-soaked sky. Shrugging off the blanket he’d retrieved from Spider’s truck earlier, he rose from the lawn chair and then clutched his lower back. Cold and stiff, he yearned for a real bed in which to sleep. Limping over to Mad Dog’s tent, he squatted by the tent flap.
“Mad Dog,” he called softly. “Get up, man; it’s almost seven o’clock.”
No response.
Mason imagined Ellen and Mad Dog sleeping in each other’s arms. He whapped the side of the tent and hollered. “Mad Dog, get the hell out here! It’s almost seven!”
Finally, he heard movement and then Mad Dog’s groggy voice.
“Is that you, Rambo?”
“Who the hell else would it be, Smokey the Bear? Get your ass out here, man.”
“You have piss poor timing, brother,” Mad Dog groaned. “I was just about to make Ellen a very happy woman, and then you show up. Go away for a while will you?”
A vise squeezed Mason’s chest. Incensed, he stood and kicked the ground. “Get the fuck out here! Put that cheese dick of yours back in your pants. We should be up at the road by now.”
Mad Dog crawled out. Ignoring Mason, he walked over to a lawn chair and sat down. He propped his rifle by his side and then pulled on his boots. Looking at Mason, he shook his head. “You need to learn how to relax, brother. Besides, what you mad about? What if Ellen and I were getting it on? She’s not your old lady.”
“I don’t care what the fuck you and Ellen do.” Mason lied. “It’s time for us to be on, and I know how I hate it when some asshole keeps me waiting.”
“Sure,” Mad Dog snickered. “You don’t have a thing for our little teacher friend do you, Rambo?”
“What the hell are you talking about? First Desi and now you. How can I have a thing for a woman I just met?”
“Desi noticed it too, huh?” Mad Dog frowned. “Doesn’t look good for you, brother. Ellen and I really hit it off last night. Her pot smoking lesson and the large quantity of alcohol she consumed got her all loosey goosey, and I tell you, I’ve never experienced anything like it. A widow who hasn’t had a man in seven years is one sex-crazed animal. I thought she was going to kill me. You should see the claw marks on my back. She rode me like the stallion I am.”
Mad Dog stood and pawed the ground with his boot then whinnied. He elbowed Mason and then retrieved his rifle. Slinging it over his shoulder, he grinned. “That tent was rocking so hard, I thought we were going to land in the river. So how’d things go with you and Desi last night?”
“Shut the fuck up, Mad Dog, before I waste your sorry ass.”
Mad Dog roared. “That bad?”
The two men headed in the direction of the barn.
***
Ellen slapped her ear to kill the annoying buzz of a mosquito, but it persisted. She rolled unto her back. The sunlight saturating the red nylon tent glowed beneath her eyelids. Reluctantly, she opened her eyes and looked from left to right, resting her gaze on the rumpled sleeping bag where Mad Dog had slept. She was alone, again. Ellen sighed, remembering how peaceful she had felt falling asleep in Mad Dog’s arms.
She looked up when suddenly the hot, stuffy air inside the tent coiled around her chest and squeezed the air from her lungs. JD! She panicked. They forgot to wake me. Dear God, I have to get to that farmhouse and call JD!
She shot up to her knees, smoothed her hair, found her jacket and then frantically scoured the tent for her sandals. She tossed the sleeping bags and pillows helter-skelter but couldn’t find them. When she unzipped the tent flaps, the back of her neck was already wet with sweat.
Outside the tent, Ellen was suddenly struck with an intense throbbing at her temples. She rolled he
r head back and across her shoulders to shake it off, but the movement only intensified the pain. Her stomach lurched. Through bleary eyes she saw Dee Dee heading in her direction. Ellen hurried toward the small woman. Frustrated by her irresponsible behavior during the night, Ellen lashed out.
“Why didn’t you wake me?” Ellen demanded.
Dee Dee looked puzzled.
“You said you’d wake me before nine, so I wouldn’t be late calling JD. I told you how important it was that I call him on time.”
Ellen started to walk past her, but Dee Dee grabbed her arm and spun her around. The woman’s dark eyes narrowed, and the hard lines around her eyes and mouth deepened.
“Who the hell do you think you are, talking to me like that? If I didn’t know your kid had autism, I’d kick your up-tight teacher’s ass right here and now.” She squeezed Ellen’s elbow. “I was on my way over to get you. It’s 8:35.”
“Oh,” Ellen sighed. “It was so hot in the tent when I woke up, I thought it was later--I’m sorry--but I need to make that call.”
Dee Dee let go of her arm.
They walked in silence toward the farmhouse. Ellen felt awful for yelling at Dee Dee, but she was too preoccupied with thoughts of a hysterical JD to try and smooth things over right now. She wished Dee Dee could understand her stress and make a small allowance for her out-burst, but Ellen supposed that would be wrong.
At the farmhouse, Dee abandoned Ellen to Ray Mullen Senior, who sat on the screened-in-porch and only grunted at her. After talking to JD, Ellen went back out on the porch to thank the man. Her head pounded more fiercely than ever, and her anxiety lingered. She sat down on a wooden rocker and looked out over the driveway. She didn’t speak and neither did Ray.
Ellen knew the old man must think her crazy, but she needed some time to collect herself before she went back—to those people. She’d have to face Dee Dee’s anger and Desi’s hatred. She wasn’t quite sure if she wanted to even see Mad Dog, and Mason—the mere thought of him scared her to death. So, she sat rooted in the rocker.
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