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The Cattle Drive [The Armstrong Brothers of Cedar Creek] (Siren Publishing Classic)

Page 9

by Rebecca Joyce


  Rachael walked out of her office, and without saying anything, she headed into the kitchen. She knew she needed the break. She had put herself in one big pickle. Not only had she taken out a loan against the ranch, she overextended herself on the orders. She knew she was fighting against time. Time was money, and that was something she was quickly running out of.

  This hairbrained scheme of hers was costing her more than she realized. If it continued on this godforsaken path, she would be broke before they even left for the drive. She needed help. She needed help now.

  * * * *

  Michael was sitting at the table, and when she walked over to him, he handed her a cup of coffee. She took it and smiled.

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” Michael said, holding the chair out for her to sit. As she sat, he looked at her. “Feeling better?”

  Rachael just smiled and drank the warm coffee. For the first time in a month, she felt relaxed. It was amazing how she seemed to forget about everything when she was around Michael. It still aggravated her, though. How could this one man make her forget all her worries and with one smile make everything seem better? Hell, she was too exhausted to even think about it right now. She decided to just relish the moment of peace. She enjoyed his nearness, and with that kiss he had just planted on her, that was all she could think about.

  She was hungry.

  She wanted a taste, and she wanted it now.

  “I need to tell you something,” Michael said, taking a sip of his coffee.

  “Anything in particular?” Rachael said, teasing him. She turned her attention to his broad chest, looking down his shirt toward his crotch.

  He just smiled at her. “Rachael, can you please be serious.”

  “I can when the mood suits me, but right now, it doesn’t,” she replied, getting up and walking around the table and straddling herself onto his lap. “I am hungry.”

  She put her hands around his neck and lowered her head to kiss him. Michael moaned as she took his bottom lip into her mouth and softly sucked on it. His hands moved down her back. He cupped her ass, pulling her tighter against him.

  “Now what were you saying?” she softly asked, kissing his neck.

  “Goddamn, woman! I can’t think when you do that.”

  “Then don’t think,” she said as she continued.

  Oh, this was getting out of hand, and Michael knew it. Apart, they were total enemies, but together, holy crap! The sexual tension between them evaporated everything else until they were left alone.

  Alone, with her!

  Michael quickly realized this was a mistake. He mustered all the energy he could and removed her hands from around his neck and held her away from him. “Seriously, Rachael. We have to talk.”

  “Killjoy,” she said, getting up from his lap. She took one last drink from her cup and walked toward the back door. “Well, are you coming or not? I thought we were going for a ride.”

  “Damn, she isn’t making this easy,” Michael said, mumbling to himself as he grabbed his hat and headed out after her. Slamming the front back door behind him, Michael yelled, “Damn it, Rachael. I said I needed to talk to you.”

  She was already up on Mystic as she turned to look at him and smiled. “Let’s ride,” she said, kicking her horse, and in an instant, she was flying across the field.

  “Goddamn it, woman,” he muttered to himself, slapping his hat against his leg.

  Chapter 6

  The rain was pelting the window outside his London office as he stood reading the telegram from his mother. The cold, dreary day seemed to loom on and with this bit of new information he knew his day was going to get worse. He spent the morning making arrangements and settling what business he had left to do. Throwing his raincoat over his arm, he closed his briefcase and walked out of the room. He was soon greeted by a tall blonde woman, who, like the rest of the women on his staff, was absolutely gorgeous. Her long legs and small waist were a mandatory requirement for working for him. He figured if he had to work with women, by god he wanted something beautiful to look at and a little smarter than a bag of rocks.

  “Sir, the car is waiting outside. Your flight is scheduled for 4:00 p.m. The jet has been fueled and ready. I have canceled the rest of your appointments until you return. I have that information that you requested about the Blue Jacket Electronics. It arrived this morning. Is there anything else I can do for you before you leave?” she said, handing him a brief that needed his signature. He quickly signed the paperwork and swatted her butt. “No, thank you, darlin’.”

  Taking the large manila envelope from her, he headed out. The rain pelted him as he walked swiftly toward the car. The door opened, and he stopped dead in his tracks. “What the hell are you doing in my car?” Mitchell shouted at his twin, Mark.

  * * * *

  The humidity was one thing, but the insects were another. He swatted enough gnats, mosquitoes, spiders, and bugs to satisfy him for a lifetime. Sitting under the fishnet canopy, he nursed yet another cold soda.

  He was exhausted.

  It had been another horrible day in Guatemala. The fighting never seemed to stop. No matter how many people he patched up, he could always thank the rebel forces for his never-ending supply of wounded victims. As if on cue, the ambulance entered the camp.

  “Hey, Doc, we got another one,” the young man yelled.

  “Whoever it is can wait. I just sat down.”

  “It’s a kid!”

  There were many things he could handle, like the constant gunfire, the mud slides, the nonexistence of indoor plumbing, and hell, he could even handle no sleep, but what he hated most was the thought of a child having to endure this hell.

  And yes, this was hell!

  Dropping his soda, he jumped over the porch railing of his little cottage and ran to the wounded kid, just a small boy, probably no older than twelve, with a bullet hole in his chest. “Get him inside,” he told the young man.

  It took over three hours, but he managed to save the young boy’s life. The nurses stood watch over him as he went to go wash up. “Make sure he get plenty of fluids, and come find me if infection sets in.”

  “Yes, doctor,” a nurse replied.

  Walking out into the night, he looked up at the sky and reveled in the amount of stars that were shining tonight. Thinking about home, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. A young girl walked up to him and tugged on his pant leg. Looking down, he smiled at the little girl. “Yes, Isabella.” She just smiled and held out an envelope for him. Reaching in his pocket, he pulled out a lollipop and handed it to her. He smiled as she took it, running away and giggling. Looking at the envelope, he noticed it was from his mother. It didn’t take long for him to tear into it and read its contents.

  He stood motionless.

  Matthew crumpled up the letter, and started yelling, “José! Get the Jeep ready!”

  * * * *

  His head hit the pillow with a thud. He was exhausted, completely drained. One more night like tonight and he was going to sell the whole damn restaurant, lock, stock, and every pot! Everything went wrong tonight. Two bus boys called in sick, the new waitress broke damn near every glass he owned, and his sous chef started cursing him in Italian.

  The place was packed as usual, but with the fire marshall showing up unannounced along with the local health inspector, he wanted to sink into the vat of marinara boiling on the burners. Customers were crowded at the bar waiting for tables. Those seated tended to stay longer than normal, and his kitchen staff were doing everything they could to move the unyielding herd.

  Rolling over, he tried to relax and put the whole night out of his mind. The cool breeze off of the Atlantic Ocean felt good as it blew through his condo. The sounds of the Miami nightlife bellowed from below, and though he would love to join in the fun, his body had other ideas.

  It wanted sleep.

  He took a deep breath as the tension began ease its way out. Drifting into darkness, he heard the ph
one ring.

  “I knew it!” he shouted as he reached for the noisy contraption on his nightstand. “That place better be burnt to the ground or you’re fired!” he shouted into the phone.

  “Darling?” his mother said softly. He quickly sat up in bed and smiled.

  “Hey. I was thinking about you the other day. How about you coming for a visit?” he asked.

  “Some other time, darling. I need a favor,” she asked her son, Marcus.

  “Sure, what’s up?”

  * * * *

  The one constant at the R & R Ranch was the fighting.

  Whatever was going on between Michael and Rachael had spilled over to all the ranch hands. The yelling at the men was something new, but the fighting with Rachael was seriously getting old. The ranch hands started giving the both of them a wide berth when either of them appeared. Only Henry or Kenny had enough nerve to talk with either of them, but even then, they got the brunt of what was brewing between Michael and Rachael.

  “It’s your turn,” Henry complained.

  “Hell no!” Kenny vehemently shouted. “He’s your father. He won’t kill you!”

  “Fine, but you have to tell Rachael.”

  Kenny just stared at the boy. He was seriously contemplating the latter. He didn’t want to go anywhere near Rachael, but the alternative was Michael. Both of them sat upon their horses and looked in the two different directions. Not another ranch hand in sight, it had to be them.

  Over two hundred heads were missing, and the corral was left open again, which scattered the ponies. Someone was definitely tampering with the ranch. Kenny was sure of it now. He just hated being the bearer of bad news. Lately the messenger was getting skinned, and he just happened to like the skin on his back. “Well, the sooner they know, the safer we will be.”

  “Are you sure about that?” Henry said, turning Daisy.

  “I ain’t sure about anything anymore,” Kenny mumbled, riding off to find Rachael.

  * * * *

  Michael was near Hunter’s Gap on the far east side of the ranch watching the herd move. He had set up camp for some of the men who were going to be on watch for tonight. Getting the herd ready was becoming a daunting task. His whole body ached. By the time he made it home, he was too tired to even shower. He would just collapse on the bed, boots and all. His mind was full of things that needed to be done, but with Rachael fighting him, she was making his job harder than it needed to be.

  What bothered him the most was Rachael’s refusal to listen to a single suggestion he offered. She was the most obstinate woman he had ever met. They couldn’t even be in the same vicinity lately without tearing each other apart. He knew she was hiding something, but trying to find out was like trying to tear a bear cub from its mother. It wasn’t going to happen without bloodshed!

  Giving up was his only solution for now. He knew he would find out eventually. He just hoped it was before things got to out of hand.

  Things were getting out of hand. Since he started working for her, incidents and accidents had become apparent. They were only little things, but Michael knew the more little things generally meant that something big was about to happen. Someone was trying to get her attention. Michael had his suspicions, but with his dad being so far away, his gut was telling him there was another player in his midst.

  The sun began to set over the ranch, and Michael sat enjoying the quietness of the small camp. He had just started the fire when he heard the thumping of hooves approach. He turned and noticed Henry galloping toward him. Michael hung his head and cursed.

  “What now!” he yelled.

  “Someone left the corral open again. The ponies are scattered,” Henry started saying but stopped when his father kicked the coffee can across the camp and cursed like a drunken sailor. Henry stayed on his horse and gently started to back it away until there was a safe distance between him and his father. Michael turned to look at Henry. Something in his gut told him that there was more. “Is that all?” he asked, already knowing it wasn’t.

  Henry slowly removed his hat and took a deep breath before relaying the rest of the bad news. “Kenny said the count’s off by two hundred.”

  “Son of a bitch!”

  * * * *

  Kenny slowed to a lazy walk, trying to relax before he entered the house. He was seriously contemplating a new career. “My brother could get me a job at his auto body shop. That seems easy enough. I won’t have to take this abuse anymore. This job isn’t as much fun as it used to be. It’s because of them! Wish they would just get over themselves. Everyone already knows. Don’t know why they insist on fighting it. Hell, it would make my life a hell of a lot better,” he mumbled to himself as he walked in the back door.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” she whispered, sitting at the table.

  Kenny stopped dead in his tracks. She looked upset again, but this time it wasn’t just that. She looked scared. Her face was pale and gaunt. “You are supposed to be out counting the herd.”

  “I did,” he explained.

  “Well?”

  “Someone left the corral open again.”

  “Well get some boys and go round them up. You don’t need me to tell you that,” she quietly responded. Kenny just stood there as she quietly got up and walked out of the room.

  Walking over to the counter, Kenny poured himself a cup of coffee. He needed the energy to tell her the rest. He knew she wasn’t going to like it, and he half expected her to fire him on the spot, but damn! It wasn’t his fault. Taking a sip of the hot brew, he noticed something particular on the table.

  His blood ran cold.

  Forgetting the rest of the bad news, he dropped the cup of hot coffee to the floor, grabbed the note on the table, and ran out the door. Mounting his horse, he quickly grabbed his walkie-talkie.

  “Hey, boss, meet me at Megan’s Stream. Have something you need to see,” Kenny yelled into the mike as he headed out into the open range.

  “I’m on my way,” Michael responded.

  It only took about twenty minutes for Michael to arrive at the stream. He found Kenny already there waiting on him. As he walked his horse next to Kenny’s, the foreman just handed him a slip of paper and rode off.

  * * * *

  Rachael stood by the open window in her office looking at her land. It was an amazing sight to see. The vast prairie of golden honey spread for miles and miles.

  It was her dream.

  She loved this place, the cows, the men who worked for her, and even the hard work. The ranch was her baby, and she took care of it with a mother’s love. Her hand had touched every square inch of the ranch. She knew every secret hiding place, the flow of every stream, and even when the best soil was. She handpicked the location of the house, the barns, and the corrals. There wasn’t a thing on this ranch that didn’t have her stamp of approval on it, but with the letters from the bank, and now this anonymous person threatening her life, she was in danger of losing it all.

  Not knowing what do, too afraid to tell Michael and too angry to tell her father, she felt all alone. She needed help. Walking to her desk, she sat and placed her head in her hands and started to cry.

  “Rach?” he said softly as he approached her.

  “I’m okay, just stressed,” she sobbed. Chris walked over to her and kissed her on top of the head and sat in the chair next to the desk.

  “What’s wrong, honey?” he asked.

  “I’ll be okay. Just a lot on my plate right now.”

  Chris stood up, taking her hands in his. He pulled her up out of the chair and hugged her. Rachael wrapped her arms around his waist and cried into his chest.

  Holding Rachael felt right to Chris. He had waited for this moment for a long time. Finally he could be of some use to her, and she was willing to at least allow him to help at the moment. He kissed the top of her head again, brushing her hair back from her face.

  Rachael looked up at him and smiled. Chris cupped her face. Before she could object, Chris lowered
his lips to hers.

  He was gentle with her as he tasted her soft, supple lips. Brushing his lips across hers, he felt no resistance. He deepened the kiss as she placed her hands on his chest. Holding her firmly against him, he parted her mouth. She tasted so much better than he ever imagined. God, he wanted her. He wanted her so bad. Trying everything he could to control himself, he couldn’t help himself as he plunged deeper into the kiss.

  Rachael had always known that her brother-in-law held a torch for her, but this was getting out of hand. She liked Chris. Hell, she always had, but this kiss felt wrong on so many levels. If she ever had a brother, she knew this was what it would feel like kissing him.

  Placing her hands against his chest, she tried to push him away, but his grip tightened on her. He was too strong. She couldn’t break away.

  * * * *

  Michael heard her talking to someone as he entered the house. Walking to the office in the front of the house, he arrived just in time to see Chris lean down to kiss her.

  Something inside him was growling, trying to claw its way out of him. He stood there watching as the beast within him emerged. Michael had never considered himself a jealous man, but the thought of that lazy, skinny windbag kissing Rachael had his blood boiling.

  He knew he had no claim on her. Hell, he didn’t even like working for her. They argued, bickered, and fought like cats and dogs, and on more than one occasion, she tried to fire him. They were the most incompatible, night-and-day, black-and-white, oil-and-water people that God ever created. So why was the sight of Chris kissing her making him want to walk right over to him and rip his ass apart with his bare hands?

 

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