The Cattle Drive [The Armstrong Brothers of Cedar Creek] (Siren Publishing Classic)
Page 1
The Armstrong Brothers of Cedar Creek
The Cattle Drive
Michael Armstrong, the second of six brothers from Montana, is hell-bent on stopping his father from acquiring another ranch. Leaving his comfy job in Illinois, he moves to Texas to help a woman he knows nothing about.
Rachael Mason is the sole owner of the R & R Ranch in Cedar Creek, Texas. Living her life in the moment, Rachael is reckless and dangerous. When the land next to hers is sold, she soon finds her new neighbor might just be the next distraction she is looking for.
When unforeseen circumstances begin to threaten her livelihood, Rachael is forced to make a decision which could affect her whole way of life.
With breathtaking scenery, an old-fashioned cattle drive, and the arrival of the rest of the Armstrong brothers, Michael and Rachael embark on a whirlwind of lies, deception, discovery, and love.
Genre: Contemporary, Western/Cowboys
Length: 72,363 words
THE CATTLE DRIVE
The Armstrong Brothers of Cedar Creek
Rebecca Joyce
EROTIC ROMANCE
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Erotic Romance
THE CATTLE DRIVE
Copyright © 2012 by Rebecca Joyce
E-book ISBN: 978-1-62241-788-9
First E-book Publication: November 2012
Cover design by Christine Kirchoff
All cover art and logo copyright © 2012 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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DEDICATION
To my husband, I would like to say thank you for all of the advice and opinions you have given. Without your support and guidance, I would still be living in the clouds.
To my children, who are extremely happy to see this finally come to an end…I am surprised you all survived! LOL…Love you guys!
To my ‘BESTIE’…Doro. Girl, you can breathe now. I won’t be calling you late at night anymore…well not yet, at least, and the next bag of M&Ms are on me.
To my dear friend Kelly. Without you, this book would have never been possible. Thank you for being there from the very beginning, encouraging and never giving up on me.
THE CATTLE DRIVE
The Armstrong Brothers of Cedar Creek
REBECCA JOYCE
Copyright © 2012
Chapter 1
“Michael, are these the last of the boxes?” she asked.
Standing around, she looked at the empty house, looking for her son. Everything was eerily quiet. Walking down the hall into the kitchen, she found him standing at the back door looking out into the yard.
He stood there leaning against the doorjamb, arms crossed and staring out into nothing. The sun was shining brightly, not a cloud in the sky. He was blessed with wonderful weather. The trees were still green, and all was as it should be, except for he was leaving. He was giving up his home that he had made for him and his son, to venture south toward Texas to save a woman he didn’t know.
Michael wished he could have found a way to change the circumstances that had occurred, but after racking his brain for days, he knew he was left with no choice. It just infuriated him so, that after all of these years, he could still be drawn into the chaos of his family’s affairs.
This was a move he was not looking forward to.
He hated cows.
She quietly walked over to him, putting her arms around him. “You don’t have to do this. You can stay here. You and Henry can live your own lives.”
Michael smiled, looking down at his mother. God she was still a striking woman. Her once soft golden hair was now shades of amber and silver. Her vibrant gray eyes shined brightly. The softness of her skin showed around her face. She was still a beautiful woman, who, unlike most women her age, aged gracefully. “I have to do this, Mom. He has to be stopped. Everything is already set. I won’t let him do this.”
“What about Henry?”
“As far as Henry is concerned, he thinks the move to Texas is so we can start an organic farm. I will protect him at all costs. I promise.”
“God help us if he ever finds out,” his mother whispered.
“He won’t,” Michael said firmly.
“So tell me. What have you found out, anything new?”
“Not much. The town is simple, around five hundred residents. She owns the third largest ranch in the county. She and her husband started it from scratch and made it a very profitable enterprise. After his death, she continued on. My investigator informed me three days ago she mortgaged the ranch for the drive. If she isn’t careful, she will lose everything. We both know that’s when he will make his move,” Michael informed her, turning his attention back out to the cityscape.
“He left last week for Texas. He said it was business.”
“He didn’t go to her ranch, did he?” Michael turned, looking at her.
“Let’s hope he didn’t.”
“Well, we better get this show on the road.”
“Okay then. I don’t want you driving through th
e night,” his mother said with a smile.
“We will be okay.”
Together they walked arm in arm through the house one last time, locking the front door as they exited. Standing next to the U-Haul, waiting patiently, stood a six-foot-tall, dark-haired teenager talking on his cell phone. He looked eager to get the show on the road. When he saw his father and Gram, he quickly hung up the phone. “It’s about time. Can we get going already?”
“What’s the hurry, Henry?”
“Nothing, let’s go.”
“Well, give your Gram a hug and get your ass in the truck.”
Henry walked over and pulled his Gram into a bear hug, swinging her around and kissing her cheek. “Now don’t forget, Gram. Christmas in Texas, right?”
“I wouldn’t let my two best men down, now would I?” she replied.
“I will call as soon as we get in, Mom,” Michael said as he jumped in the U-Haul.
“Love ya, Gram,” Henry said as he kissed her one more time and hopped into the passenger side, shutting the truck door.
“Are you ready?” Michael asked his son.
“Are you?”
Michael just smiled at his son, started the U-Haul, and then they were off.
* * * *
“Sheriff Mason! Are you there?”
“Go ahead, Connie.”
“Sheriff!” the young girl screamed into the CB radio.
“Connie, stop yelling! Something better be on fire, girl!”
“Worse. She is out again, and she’s tearing up the field.”
“Shit! Call Jimmie. Have him meet me out at the farm.”
“Okay, Sheriff.”
“Connie?”
“Yes, Sheriff?”
“What’s she driving?”
“She’s in the BMW.”
“Crap!”
She watched as the fields flew behind her. The top was down on her black BMW Z4 35i, the music was blaring “Doomsday Clock” by Smashing Pumpkins, and she didn’t give a damn about anything. She hit the gas, and the car took off like a bullet. She wanted to forget about everything, and going fast did that for her.
Speed.
Wanting and needing more, she floored the pedal.
Her life had been destroyed two years ago. Losing everything that mattered most in her life, she delved into the ranch. Working long, hard days, seven days a week, she left no room to think or feel. The ranch was all she had left, and she ran it with an iron fist and a strong determination to see that it stayed a success.
Driven to the brink of madness on more than one occasion, she took refuge behind the wheel of her cars. The adrenaline rush did what her mind couldn’t do. It allowed her to forget, to feel human. Fuel filled her veins as hatred pumped her heart. She hated that she lived.
Taking a sharp turn, she made a wide arch in the field. Tearing up the ground beneath the tires, she sent a cloud of dust flying all around her. She hit the gas again. Reaching almost ninety miles per hour in seconds, the soft fields wheat fields whipped past her. She hit the brakes, making another wide arch and throwing herself into a 360 spin. Punching the gas, the car fishtailed and took off. Finally, with the drug she craved, she felt nothing.
The pain was gone.
The adrenaline filled her soul. The fix she so craved had finally arrived. Nothing mattered. She didn’t care. She was flying high once again, soaring out of her body and welcoming the feeling of nothingness.
The sorrow was ripped from her body as the wind washed through her. A serene calm resided over her as she closed her eyes. The music found its way into her soul, and she could appreciate the fact that she was still alive.
She heard the sirens off in the distance. Her moment of clarity was about to come to an end. Hitting the gas, she opened her eyes to see the lights flashing. She smiled. “Okay, Jimmie, you wanna play? Let’s go for a ride.” Laughing out loud, she turned the wheel, heading for the drive and straight for him.
Leaving the field, she hit the dirt road. In less than a second, she passed Jimmie and headed for the main road. She was almost to the road when she saw the sheriff, standing in her way. He had blocked her driveway once again. Leaning against his squad car, drinking a Coke, he smiled.
“Shit!” she screamed as she slammed on the brakes, sharply turning the wheel of the car and sliding to a stop inches in front of him.
“Hello, Rachael,” he said, smiling at her and taking a sip of his Coke.
“Hey.”
“Going somewhere?”
“Not now! Killjoy.”
“Rachael. What did Judge Clark say?”
“I can only ride Mystic,” she fumed.
“Take the car back and put it in the barn.”
“Come on, Chris, five more minutes.”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said solemnly.
“Fine!” she yelled as she started the engine and headed back down the drive. Passing Jimmie, she waved and smiled.
Jimmie pulled his car to a stop next to the sheriff. Getting out, flustered, trying to slow his racing heart that still hadn’t made it back up into his chest, he said, “That girl is going to kill herself one of these days.”
Chris looked at his deputy getting into his squad car. “She’s not trying to kill herself, Jimmie. She’s trying to forget.”
* * * *
Entering the barn, she parked the BMW. Taking a deep breath, she got out and walked around, looking at all of her little babies. From her silver Porsche Cayman, to her candy-apple-red Dodge Viper, and then to her midnight-metallic Dodge Ram, they were all out on display for her pleasure.
She loved her cars. The faster the better! The one constant joy she had left in her life was the feeling of being in each and every one of them. Each car served its purpose, whether it was the need for speed or some off-road romping. Her babies were there to remove her from her reality. Purchasing each one at poignant times, such as an anniversary or birthday, her babies were there to ease the pain.
After hanging the keys to the BMW on the hook next to the others, she turned to face her absolute nightmare. There hidden under a black tarp, in the far left corner of the barn, sat her reality. What was once her pride and joy was now a blackened, hardened shell, a semblance of what would never be once again. Made of solid metal construction, her 360-horsepower engine purred like she had never heard before. Her sleek construction rivaled many before her. Her rumble could be heard for miles as she traveled down the road. She was, in essence, a piece of art. From her smooth lines to her independent rear suspension, she was a god on the road, envied by all.
Moving closer, Rachael could feel the tightening in her chest, her veins constricting. She attempted to walk closer to her misery, making it a couple of steps when her veins went ice cold, sending a shiver of pain straight to her heart. Gasping for air, Rachael succumbed to the vicious, fateful memory before her.
* * * *
The night was bitter cold, cutting through her. Howling winds whipped the snow all around them like tornado whirlwinds as they made their way back to their vehicles. It was just another trip, nothing special. The trip was for the sale of their cattle, so regardless of the weather, all was good because they got paid. But even if the money hadn’t been as good as they expected, it was nothing new when Robert decided at that particular time to pick a damn fight.
Rachael should have known it was going to come to this.
It always did.
Nothing about this trip went right. From the moment they left Cedar Creek, it was one disaster after another, all accumulating to the worst sale in three years. How was she to know that cattle prices were going to drop as they traveled from Texas to Montana? She wasn’t a damn mind reader!
But it didn’t matter. It was her fault. Also, it was her fault for the flat tire outside Amarillo, Texas, the twins getting sick in Colorado Springs, and let’s not forget her failure to ask for directions just outside Casper, Wyoming that resulted in a two hour sightseeing delay. Oh yeah, this trip was all her fau
lt!
But nothing mattered now. The stress of that year’s ranching was hard on all of them, but the sale was over. They had their cash in hand, and it was time to go home, but that didn’t stop Robert from saying his piece. “What the fuck was that? How the hell are we supposed to live off that little bit of crap they gave us! We can’t! If you had done your fucking job like you were supposed to three damn weeks ago, we could have been here before the fuckin’ cattle prices dropped. Now we have to scrimp and save what we got and pray like hell we don’t lose everything. Fuck!” Robert shouted angrily.
“It’s going to be okay,” Rachael whispered.
“Don’t! Don’t you tell me it’s going to be okay! I have three kids and a ranch to support, and all I asked from you was for some little help, but you couldn’t even do that,” he shouted, pacing back and forth. Rachael knew he wasn’t truly angry at her. She knew he knew she did her job diligently, checking the cattle prices daily to make sure they were going to get the best price. So, she just watched and listened until he got it all off his chest. It was the only thing she could do.
The words still stung. She knew they were going to, but she tried her best to let them roll off her back. She married this man for the good and the bad, and right now, it was bad, really…really bad. She could handle it, but nevertheless, his words still hurt.
She quietly turned to make sure the twins were buckled securely into their car seats and went to grab Megan when that lone tear she tried desperately to hide slid down her cheek. “Damn it, Rachael, I don’t have time for your tears,” Robert shouted as he still paced with Megan in his arms.