Slade and Kally: Letting Go of the Reins, Book 1

by AE Rought

  I hated Matt, but at one time I did love him, and I didn’t want to see him trampled to death. I begged him to come to the gate. “Matt, please.”

  He raised his middle finger and kicked at a heifer. “Fuck you, Kally.”

  “Don’t be a fool, Matt!”

  “Don’t you dare call me a fool!” His voice escalated and he pumped his arms at his side.

  It was more commotion than Zeus, Slade’s prize bull, cared to deal with. He broke through the side of the bull pen and charged. I shouted for Matt to run. He only smacked his chest in a gesture of defiance. Slade clambered to his feet and ran for the gate, but Matt turned to face the rampaging bull.

  Zeus’s horn plunged into Matt’s gut and then he flung him like a matador’s cape. The cows scattered to the far side of the enclosure, and Slade ran into the pen, dragging Matt’s semi-conscious body out to the drive. Blood, thick and black soaked through his jacket. Emma jumped out of her vehicle and I screamed at her to dial 9-1-1 while I locked the gate to the pen.

  Slade reached for me and I pushed his hands away when I dropped to my knees beside Matt. It wasn’t supposed to end like this. He had been a decent man once. People back home loved him despite his faults. Seeing him lying on the ground, clutching his guts together, tore at my heart.

  “Kally…” He coughed, blood trickling from his lips and running from the fingers he stretched piteously toward me.

  His hand, the hand to cause me so much pain, hung in the air a silent petition for comfort. I averted my gaze, looked to Slade. “Is he…can he be helped?”

  Slade’s eyes were pale blue ghosts, hollow and horrified. He squatted down beside me, pulled open the tear in Matt’s clothes. The gash in his stomach was huge, pieces of innards bubbled up past the edges. “The horn ripped his liver, chunks are torn lose…probably severed the artery…the blood is black…” He pushed a hand through the blood on his own lip, his voice was hollow when he spoke. “Kally, I’ve seen enough accidents to know, there ain’t no coming back.”

  “H-how long?”

  Slade didn’t answer.

  Matt moaned, begged for me again. “Kally…please.”

  I took his hand. In the name of everything good we once had, I would not let him suffer alone. His eyes rolled, blood seeped through the snow and faint, in the distance, sirens wailed. Matt’s hand convulsed in pain around mine, then he opened his eyes. “Can you forgive me? Or…too much to ask?”

  Slade’s love had healed my heart, and life on the Fourth Moon had matured me. Forgiveness was a gift I was finally capable of giving. Tears fell and I choked back sobs while the patrol car careened down the drive. “Yes, yes I can. We had good times, and I will always remember them. Maybe someday…” He coughed, blood poured from his mouth. Black terror shadowed Matt’s eyes. He nodded for me to continue. “Maybe someday, I’ll forget all the pain you caused.”

  Slade’s hand settled on my good shoulder and Matt’s eyes drifted to my cowboy. “Do you…love him?”

  There was no hesitation. “Yes, with all my heart.”

  Tears formed in Matt’s eyes, washing away some of the blood and ichor, revealing the likeness of the man I once cared for. Headlights burned the image of his face in my mind. His hand tightened around mine, air, heavy with the scent of iron, wheezed from his lungs and Matt’s ribcage raised no more.

  My tormentor was gone.

  “Oh my God,” someone whispered. The world crashed back in on me then, and shaking I collapsed against Slade’s legs, only vaguely aware I still held onto Matt’s hand.

  Slade stroked my head and I found myself mumbling, “He wasn’t all bad. He wasn’t all bad…”

  Matt’s limp hand slipped from my grip, and Slade pulled me to my feet. He pushed away the bloody hair clinging to my face. “No one is all bad, darlin’.”

  I crumbled against him, sobbing, until a paramedic asked if I was injured. “I’m not sure. It’s all a blur.”

  “You’re bleeding, hun.” She took my hand and led me to the ambulance where she tenderly checked my injuries. “The bullet tore right through. You’ll need stitches for your bicep…”

  I shook my head. I didn’t want stitches. I just wanted Slade. Frantic, I craned my head out the back of the truck. “Slade?”

  “Yeah, darlin’?” He excused himself from the officer he was speaking to and hurried to the ambulance. The paramedic explained my injuries, the risk of infection and permanent muscle damage, and the treatment needed. Slade nodded and then motioned to Rosie, who walked over. “Kally needs to get stitched up and the medic is worried about possible complications. Can you hold the fort until we call? I am going with her.”

  “Of course I can.” She patted my leg, her bright eyes rimmed in sadness when she looked at me. “We’ll be here, honey.”

  Slade sat on the bench beside the cart in the back of the ambulance while the medics strapped me in and locked the bed down. Looking at Slade’s face, I fell apart. “I never thought I’d cry when he died. All I wished was his death—for months.”

  “You’re a loving person with a big heart, Kally.” He smoothed stray bangs from my eyes and then kissed my forehead. “The loss of life is never good, no matter how awful the person might have been. There’s good in all of us, even if it is buried deep.”

  “What do I do now?” I sniffled and wiped at the snot and blood with an arm already stuck with an IV shunt. “Matt’s been a shadow in my life for so long.”

  “Walk in the sun, Kally.” Slade’s palm covered my fingers where they rested on the blanket. “And I’ll hold your hand.”

  “I want you to always hold my hand, Slade. You are my sun. You burned away the hurt and the pain, you warm my heart.”

  “And I will always be here for you, darlin’.”

  “Well, you can’t be right now, sir.” The paramedic intruded, a bit of a smile on her face. “You’ll have to ride up front. We only have patients and medics in the back.”

  Slade returned her smile, kissed me deeply and promised to be by my side in the ER for my repeat appearance. The medic closed the doors and I closed my eyes on the horror scene left behind. It would take ages to wash away the images of Matt, but I knew Slade would be with me every step of the way. And once we were back home, I planned to talk to my cowboy about arranging our wedding.

  Epilogue

  Spring breezes blew through the open expanse of the main ranch, pollen danced in the yellow sunlight, and Bonnie and I were deep into plotting the colors and flowers and food for my upcoming May wedding. The dining room table was scattered with papers, magazine articles and fabric swatches. Bonnie was rubbing her thumb over a sample of white silk damask. “This is nice, Kally.”

  “I don’t know, Mom, it looks a little heavy for an early summer affair…”

  The lavender iced tea was a sweet treat when I sipped it, and I twined my hair up into a bun and fixed it with a ponytail scrunchie. Pointing at an off-the-shoulder gown in a bridal magazine, I asked, “What do you think about this one? It’s less formal, would cover my scar, and would look great with a bunch of your lavender for a bouquet and then I could have a sage colored sash…” I drifted off into my vision of a perfect wedding—sunlight, a simple white dress and my cowboy in inky dark blue jeans, nice white shirt and his Stetson.

  The only thing to make it better would be for my sister and my best friend to walk with me. I knew Ilene was coming for the weekend, but Sue’s husband Jerry just couldn’t get the time off work.

  Slade crashing through the back door roused me from my daydreams. Bonnie’s normal nagging about removing his hat was conspicuously absent when he skated through the dining room. Before he disappeared from sight, someone knocked on the front door. “Kally!” Slade shouted from the front door. “You’re gonna want to see this.”

  I looked at Bonnie, and she couldn’t hide her smile. She pretended not to know what was going on. I knew better. I stood, brushed off the frayed fabric snippets from my clothes, smoothed my hair and then hurri
ed to the foyer. Rounding the corner, I saw Slade’s back at the open door and the yellow front end of a big truck in the driveway. Falsely, I assumed a package had arrived for the wedding.

  Slade stepped aside, and my sister Susan stepped in. My heart pounded, tears welled up and I loosed a squeal. “Oh my God, Sue! What’re you doing here?”

  “You’re going to need a Matron of Honor. Beside, I couldn’t let you stay out here in your Wyoming paradise alone.”

  I blinked, trying to make sense of it all when my nephew Samuel burst through the door and tackled me. “Aunt Kally!” He talked fast enough to make up for the months of lost time. “Did you hear? We drove all the way here! We’re gonna have a house out here, too! The Carlsons are giving Daddy a job!”

  Bonnie appeared behind me and shook Sue’s hand. I lifted Sammy from my chest and stood with Slade’s help. His smile was huge. “Is it true?”

  “Yes it is, darlin’.” He crushed me in a hug and then pulled Susan in too. “I will do whatever it takes to make my girl happy.”

  I kissed him and then gave Sue a peck on the cheek. “I am the happiest girl in the world!”

  About the Author

  To learn more about A. E. Rought, please visit www.aerought.com. Send an email to A. E. at aerought@gmail.com or join her Yahoo! group to join in the fun with other readers as well as A. E. at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/DarkInk.

  Look for these titles by AE Rought

  Available Now:

  Nuermar’s Last Witch

  She controls the Elements, but he controls her heart.

  Nuermar’s Last Witch

  © 2007 AE Rought

  The Chronicles of Nuermar, Book 1

  Nuermar’s history is whittled in ruins, its prophecy carved in stone. Maelis, child of the Prophecies, is the last of her kind—a green-eyed witch, and the only one whom the stones of Nuermar say can channel the Elements. She alone has the power to vanquish the evil that reigns over her land. But without the greatest element of all, she has no hope of winning such an impossible battle.

  A turncoat-assassin holds the key to her ultimate triumph. Yet the destruction of her village and the brutal slaughter of Maelis’ family lies on Joran’s hands. Can she overcome her hatred in order to fulfill the Prophecies and channel the ultimate Element – Love?

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Nuermar’s Last Witch:

  Maelis grasped the arrow with both hands and pulled it from her stomach; the pain of its removal was negligible compared to the flames that raged within her. Her love for the land and its people had triggered the ultimate response from the Red Stone, and she was ablaze with its power.

  Her skin sizzled from the heat. A damp sheen covered her body as the flames spread outward from her chest and engulfed her body. The conflagration transformed her honey-colored hair into golden ribbons of flame that snaked and hissed around her face. Her emerald eyes blazed and her skin blackened in response to the fire.

  She looked at the devastation in the Vale of Dismay. So many had died. The floor of the valley was littered with twisted, pierced bodies―monks, simple villagers, and Nemen soldiers lying together in death. The love she felt for the innocents flared inside Maelis; its heat engulfed her and the rest of the valley. Her skin became nothing more than layers of ash, and yet her eyes continued to flare. Maelis’s whispers fed the flames, and the heat waves rose, radiating from her body. She felt the bones inside her burn; her muscles glowed red through the remnants of her flesh.

  Maelis continued to chant, and the winds carried her mantra into the Vale of Dismay. Her whispers reverberated in the valley as though the land of Nuermar itself railed against the evil that had long polluted the Nemen Region. The echo was so powerful that the remaining armies held their ears for protection against the din. Fire shot from her fingertips, scorching the ground in front of the Nemen troops and stopping their advance on the cave. The soldiers fell to their knees, gasping for air.

  She looked out past the dying armies, past the Demon Gates to the Plains, the land she loved and must protect. A tear of white light trickled from her eye.

  I love Nuermar, Maelis thought. I cannot allow this evil to spread.

  She knew, through her connection with the Element of Earth, that Joran and their few surviving friends remained sheltered in the safety of the cave below. With her heart radiating as hot as Nuermar’s sun, she raised her arms and released her wrath.

  The fire, fueled by her love, exploded. A wave of heat spread out for miles, incinerating everything in its path. After it passed, only piles of ash remained on the valley floor. Her heat wave washed up over the mountains, searing all who remained in the Vale of Dismay and burning out the evil that had polluted the Nemen Region. Then, in a backdraft of flame, the heat Maelis had visited on the land streamed back into her smoldering body.

  The cliff caught Maelis in its stony embrace. She fell back, stiff as a brittle log, and moved no more. No breath stirred her lungs; no movement stirred her limbs. Her body coalesced into a pile of sculpted of ash and embers.

  * * *

  In the eerie silence following the aftermath of Maelis’s purging flames, Joran looked outside of the cave where he and fewer than thirty villagers and monks remained unscathed. Clouds of smoke hung in the air over ash piles that littered the valley floor―piles that Joran knew to be the remains of the combatants. Here and there, between the mounds lay the melted remnants of their weaponry. It was surreal. But something else diverted Joran’s attention from the now barren valley.

  Maelis no longer whispered.

  Joran told the others to remain in the cave until he signaled to them. Then he stepped out into the heat of the valley and scrambled up the slope toward the ledge on which Maelis had last stood. Hope failed him when he peered over the edge but found nothing. Only a charred log remained where Maelis had been. He leaned against the face of the mountain; it still held the warmth from Maelis’s heat wave. He scanned the slope looking for her familiar form.

  “Maelis!” he called. “Maelis! Where are you?”

  He heard a crackle of fire from the charred log. He looked at it again and, all at once, he came to a terrifying realization. The love of his life lay before him on the rocky ledge. What Joran had taken to be the remains of a burnt log was all that was left of Maelis. Horrified, he ran to her side, screaming her name. He collapsed to his knees beside her and saw Maelis’s features through the charred ruins―her delicate nose, the ties of her tunic, the faint outline of the Second Talisman.

  “Oh, Maelis…” he gasped, tears in his eyes, choking his throat. “Oh, gods, no!”

  He touched the black char of what was once her cheek. It crumbled at even this light caress, and a small puff of ash rose from her face.

  Joran threw his head back, crying out hoarsely, a wrenching, anguished sob. His need to touch her overwhelmed him, and like a marionette helpless to prevent the whims of its master, he reached out and stroked the remains of her once-golden hair.

  Again, it crumbled at his touch, yielding gray ash. Yet beneath, he saw shimmering strands of hair.

  How can this be?

  Joran removed his tunic and used it to brush the ash from her body. He felt her residual heat through the fabric, but despite this, he continued wiping until all the ashes had fallen away. Gods, she remains! he realized in shock. Beneath the blackened crust of ashes, Maelis’s body lay intact, unscathed by the flames.

  He nudged her gently, and waited for her eyes to open, but they didn’t. Joran then gripped her shoulders and shook her, but to no avail. He even slapped Maelis, hoping the pain would rouse her. Maelis didn’t breathe, nor did she respond in any other way. As he tried again to shake her into consciousness, the Heart Stone jiggled free of her tunic and flopped onto her chest.

  “Wake up,” Joran pleaded. “Wake up! You are too stubborn to die now, Maelis. You’ve won!”

  He clutched her still body to his bare chest, with the Heart Stone pressed between them. He rocked her gently, crying
into her hair. “You can’t be dead,” he sobbed.

  Will Kate still want Chris when she finds out his secret?

  Crazy for Kate

  © 2008 Kelly McDonough

  Chris is the man of every woman’s dreams. Not only is he a hot-looking construction worker who looks good in ripped jeans and a white T-shirt, he’s also got a big heart he’d like to share with a wife and kids. But because of a childhood illness, he can never have the family he hoped for.

  Fate has its way with Chris and he winds up working at a church picnic with Kate McKaye, an old classmate. She’s more beautiful than he remembered, and is divorced with two young daughters. For the first time in years, Chris asks a woman on a date.

  Chris falls deeply in love with sexy, sweet Kate. His only fear is how she’ll react when she finds out she can’t have all the babies she’s told him she wants. Will she be like his ex-fiancé, whose maternal instincts lead her straight into the arms of another man? Or, can she be happy with him and her two daughters?

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Crazy for Kate:

  Kate put her hand out to Chris who had been sitting on the floor playing the game with the girls. As she helped him up, she said, “I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

  Chris simply ran his free hand up and down Kate’s arm. Boy, did it feel good to touch her. He knew he was going to have to control himself tonight. It would be the first time they’d be alone. He had to focus on helping her deal with her feelings toward Scott.

  Ten minutes later, Kate walked down the stairs. “Espresso?”

  “Sure.”

  “I’ll bring it in here.”

  Kate brought two steaming shots of espresso into the living room. Even though it was a warm summer night, the heat felt good to her. Warm. Reassuring. That’s what she needed now more than anything. Reassurance that everything was going to turn out just right.

  “Anything you need to get off your chest?” Chris broke the silence.