Forever Wild: A Camden Ranch Novel

by Jillian Neal

  “More,” she sighed. “Please.”

  “Don’t need your permission, honey. Remember?” he sank his lips between her breasts, leaving another one of his brands there as well.

  He continued his path down her body, leaving his mark on the hipbone he could access and then another on her plump ass cheek. When she was a quivering mass of desire, he swirled his tongue over each of her nipples, reveling in the sweet tang of her sweat gathered there from their love making.

  Returning his lips to hers, he gentled one more lengthy kiss and then tucked her softly to his body. “Go to sleep, darlin’. I’m gonna want to keep goin’ as soon as I wake up in the mornin’.”

  “Give me more, now.”

  Keeping her head under his chin, he tried to conceal his grin. Sated and begging for more. Just the way he’d planned it. “You’re tired, sugar. You’re already gonna hurt tomorrow from all we just did. Just sleep for me. Let me make it feel better in the mornin’.”

  “I can’t stay here, Luke.”

  You can’t tie her down. Caging her will only make her run again. He clenched his jaw to keep from demanding that she stay, but he finally managed, “Why not?”

  “I have to see Daddy sometime, and be over at Mama’s in time for this stupid brunch thing. Make it feel better now.”

  “No, ma’am. I know you’re raw, baby. Just relax for me. If you can’t stay all night, stay for a little while.” Recognizing his own determination in his half-commanded request, he wasn’t certain how she might respond.

  “Just for a little while,” she conceded. Indieanna Jane Harper gave in. It was in those five simple words of agreement he knew he was on the right path to getting her to stay forever.

  Chapter Twelve

  Trying her damnedest to be galled, Indie stared in the mirror of the particle board dresser her daddy had built from a kit when she was a teenager. She tugged the button down shirt she was wearing to the other side. It was no use. The hickeys Luke had branded along her neck and chest couldn’t all be covered at once, not that she really cared. Secretly, she hoped her mother had the audacity to call her out. It was her daddy she was a little bit worried the marks might offend. He’d never say a word, but she didn’t want to disappoint him.

  Letting that thought flip through her head, she quickly decided whatever reaction the marks brought on they were worth it. She loved wearing his brand just as much as she’d loved wearing his cum the night before.

  It had taken every ounce of fortitude she possessed to crawl out of Luke’s bed last night and drive back home. She could’ve stayed tucked up warm and safe in his sanctuary of muscle, listening to his steady heartbeat forever and been perfectly happy. That knowledge is how she finally forced herself to move.

  If she’d stayed there much longer, she might’ve woken him up and agreed to stay in Pleasant Glen playing the part of rancher’s wife. Nope. It didn’t matter how amazing the sex was or how much she adored Luke, she wasn’t ever going to be okay in this town. Besides, if her own mother couldn’t make it work with her daddy, no one ever could. Luke’s parents immediately sprang to mind. Dammit, he even had her own head arguing with her in his absence. She needed to get out of that room.

  Bunching up a wad of duct tape she’d located in the kitchen junk drawer while her father was out feeding the horses, she affixed the half-crushed ribbon to the 200-Piece Kobalt Standard and Metric tool set she’d purchased for Tuck and Melony’s shower present. Grinning at her work, she ran her hands over the quick-release ratchets. She was beyond certain Mel would be inundated with dumbass presents that would largely go unused, but a quality set of Kobalt in the high-end blow-molded case, they could use that forever.

  Trucking out of the bedroom, she set the tool case on the sofa and went to pour a mug of coffee. Her daddy was standing at the oven scrambling eggs. “What time did you get home last night, baby girl? I didn’t hear you come in.”

  “Oh.” Indie told herself she had no reason to feel guilty. “Uh, it was late. Luke and I went to Ogallala with Tuck and Mel for supper.”

  A smirk formed on her father’s face as he turned to study her. When his eyes landed on the rather large hickeys on her neck, he shook his head. “Uh huh, I’m just betting you weren’t out getting Runzas ‘til three in the mornin’. You want some eggs?”

  “Thought you didn’t hear me come in, and no, Mel’s thing is a brunch. I’ll eat there.”

  “That was a lucky guess, but you just told me what I wanted to know.” He chuckled.

  Indie ground her teeth for a moment, but finally grinned. She loved to hear her daddy laugh. The warm melodic sound always delighted her. “You don’t have to leave Luke’s bed to be home for breakfast with your old man, Indie Jane. You two’ve been like magnets since you met in ninth grade. I don’t want to get between ya.”

  “I like having breakfast with you, Daddy. Besides, I have to be over at Mama’s all damn day. I wanted to see you this mornin’.”

  “Well, you know I love having you here whenever you want to be here, but seems to me if you conceded to moving home you wouldn’t have to try and juggle us all constantly. Save yourself a lot of unnecessary guilt.”

  “I don’t have guilt. I have coffee.” She lifted her mug as she settled at the table.

  “Uh huh.” Ben rolled his eyes as he settled across from her at the table with his plate of eggs. “You sure you don’t want anything to eat?”

  “No, I’m sure Mama has some fancy food person in from Lincoln cooking up shit I’ve never heard of. I intend to tell her to leave Tucker and Melony the hell alone, but I’ll make nice and eat whatever they’re having.”

  “Indie Jane, you ever think maybe Melony ought to be the one talkin’ if Carolyn’s doing something that’s getting on her nerves?”

  “You know how Mel is, Daddy. She doesn’t even know how to stand up for herself. I’ll talk to Carolyn.”

  Her father’s only response was to shove a forkful of eggs in his mouth.

  An hour later, Indie repeated the mantra, ‘Do not strangle your mother’ repeatedly in her head while she slowly drove over the railroad tracks headed to the other end of Pleasant Glen. This time she needed Carolyn Harper Jenkins to listen to her. She would not let her mother run Tuck and Melony out of the Glen any more than she would let her mother ruin their wedding. Indie just needed to keep it together long enough to get through her mother’s stubborn insistence that she was always right.

  Another round of memories played in perfect detail in her mind as she slowly guided her Camaro up the gravel driveway that led to Pleasant Glen’s version of a mansion. About three months after the mayor and her mother had wed, Miranda and Melony had begged Indie to come to the mayor’s and spend the night with them. Ben had urged Indie to just spend one night to appease her sisters. He’d insisted her mother wanted her there, too, but even then, Indie knew that wasn’t the case.

  She’d made it through dinner and no less than four arguments with her mother when Ernie had informed Indie that she was an embarrassment to him and that she’d never lose any weight if she kept eating. After that, she’d snuck upstairs to the master bathroom, poured out the entire bottle of Aqua Bond toupee glue, and had adhered her newly minted stepfather’s hair piece to the Formica countertop. Five minutes later, she’d climbed out a bedroom window and headed for Camden Ranch.

  A slight giggle escaped her lips from the memory. She hadn’t lost any of her spitfire in the last two decades, and just then, that fact made her proud.

  “Well, here goes nothing.” She grabbed her bag and death-marched to her doom. Her brow furrowed when Tucker answered the door. “She already got you playing doorman, Kilroy?”

  He rolled his eyes before checking behind him, presumably to make certain Carolyn wasn’t nearby. “She up and ordered Mel outta my bed at six fucking AM. I brought her over here because I’m sick to death of Carolyn pushing her around, and I knew she’d be laying on the guilt about the wedding hot and heavy today.”

&nbs
p; Indie nodded her understanding as she stepped inside the stately foyer. “Unless you really want to hang out for a bridal shower, you go on. I know you got chores this mornin’. I’ll take care of Mel.”

  “Thanks, but I’m gonna stick around here. I talked my brothers into picking up my slack. I’ll hear about it later, but that’s better than another night of holding her while she cries over whatever your mom comes up with next.”

  Before Indie could respond, her mother appeared. She was still in her long, ridiculously overstated, satin dressing robe. Her long, bleached-blonde hair was done up in some kind of fancy twist, and she’d made it through the first steps of her intricate makeup routine. Her face was entirely one pale color with no contrast, making her lips and eyes appear to be almost invisible.

  “Well, shut the door, Indieanna. You may prefer to be in a barn, but you were not born in one. Your sisters are in the kitchen helping the caterer. Go give them a hand then you can change.”

  “I’m not changing, Mother.” Not her clothes, not her makeup, not one single thing about herself, not for her mother or anyone else.

  “This is a formal affair. Friends of Ernie’s from Lincoln will be attending as will your stepfather’s staff. You will not embarrass him. Surely you have something more appropriate than jeans and boots to wear for your sister’s bridal shower.”

  Grinding her teeth just long enough to keep from lunging at her mother, Indie narrowed her eyes. “I really don’t give a rat’s ass who’s going to be here, Mother. I am here and this is what I’m wearing. Deal with it.”

  Tucker cringed, but Indie held her ground. Her mother really ought to know that the quickest way to get Indie to do something was to tell her not to. Turning on her heels, Carolyn stormed up the stairs, not in the mood to take her on, it seemed.

  Shaking her head, Indie located her little sisters standing in the kitchen, whispering heatedly.

  “What now?” she sighed.

  “This,” Miranda jerked a slip of paper out of Melony’s hands. “The mayor just gave this to Mel before he left.”

  Indie studied what appeared to be a bill of sale from Tastefully Yours Catering, Lincoln’s premiere catering company. “Why did he give this to you?”

  Tucker pulled the paper from Indie’s hands.

  Already red-faced and blinking back tears, Melony drew a deep breath. “Mama got upset about the rehearsal dinner thing, and me not letting Ernie walk me down the aisle. That pissed Ernie off, and now he says Tuck and I have to pay for this because I haven’t shown any appreciation for all of Mama’s work on the wedding.”

  “Mel, baby, we cannot afford this.” Pain riffed in Tucker’s declaration as he stared in horror at the total on the bottom of the bill.

  “I know. I didn’t even want to have this stupid shower. This was all her doing, and now .…” Melony’s pleading gaze speared through Indie. It hadn’t changed in the last twenty years. Anytime Mel and Miranda were terrified they’d done something to gall their mother, Indie came up with some way to save the day. She wouldn’t let them down now.

  “Give me that.” She jerked the receipt from Tucker’s hands and marched up to her mother’s dressing room. “What the actual hell, Mother?!” She flung the receipt on the countertop.

  In true Carolyn Jenkins form, she viewed Indie as one of her staff. “Clasp this for me.” She turned with two ends of her strands of pearls in her hands, waiting on Indie’s aid. Rolling her eyes, Indie attached the necklace. After all, one couldn’t be the Pleasant Glen pearl-clutcher-in-chief without the pearls.

  “I asked you a question. You and the mayor,” she all but gagged, “know good and well that Tuck and Melony cannot pay for this shindig you decided to throw. They didn’t even want it. I swear, you get off on making all of us miserable. Why is that?”

  Her mother’s haughty glare narrowed in on Indie’s neck. “What in heaven’s name is that?” She stabbed one of her perfectly manicured fingernails into one of the hickeys.

  Indie jerked back. Her fists knotted by her side as she attempted to count to ten in her head. She’d made it to four when she gave up trying. “That is none of your damn business, Mother. Tucker and Melony are not paying for this ridiculous shower, and if you continue to operate under the ridiculous delusion that they are, they’ll leave and you can eat all of the petit fours and finger sandwiches with the mayor’s staff yourself, which is really what you want anyway. Always preferred for the three of us to be seen and never heard. Nothing ever changes, most certainly not you.”

  “If Luke Camden is leaving marks on you, I’ll just have to have a talk with Everett and Jessie about his behavior.”

  “Oh my God, Mother! He’s thirty-three years old. None of us are children anymore. You cannot order us around. You cannot make Tuck and Melony do what you want them to do any more than you can tell Luke and me what to do.”

  Fishing around in her mind for a way to get through her mother’s stubborn refusal to accept anything she didn’t care for, she landed on the one way to get Carolyn Jenkins to back down. “Listen and listen good, Mom, because I’m only saying this once. You go downstairs and apologize to Tucker for what you said to his mother, then you apologize to Mel for this insanity,” she shook the bill in front of her mother’s face, “or I will drive myself down to the courthouse tomorrow morning, after everyone is at work, of course, and I will loudly let the mayor of this ridiculous town know precisely what I think of him, and of you, and of this,” she shook the bill again. “Then I’ll elaborate on just how Daddy found out about the two of you. I’ll happily remind everyone of the past you’d so like to pretend away.”

  Fury flared in her mother’s eyes, accentuated by the heavy black liner she’d applied. Indie smirked. If Carolyn wanted to play hardball, she’d bring out the metal bats.

  “Did it ever occur to you or your sisters, Indieanna, that perhaps Ernie is a wonderful, supportive husband and father that is upset about the way Melony has been acting over what should be a beautiful, joyous day? Did you ever stop to think about how I might feel about being rejected by my daughter, or having all of my desires and hopes for her dashed away because she believes she’s in love with a corn farmer that will never be good enough for her? Ernie is trying to teach Melony a lesson she desperately needs. Your father lets the three of you get away with murder. He always did, and I won’t stand for it. Ernie and I never intended for Melony to pay for this shower I’ve worked tooth and nail to plan. We are trying to teach her to show a little appreciation, something I failed to ever teach you.”

  “You know, Mom, none of that ever did occur to me because all of it is complete and total bullshit. You’re in it so deep you need waders and a paddle to get out. Now, go apologize or let the mayor know he’ll need to clear his schedule because I’ll be in for our meeting first thing tomorrow morning.”

  Luke glanced at his watch again, bored with checking the new calves who all seemed to be handling life well. He’d already fed the bottle calf — Cassie, he recalled Indie’s name for it — and had checked the fields they’d burned back last month. Be time to hay soon. That thought did nothing to bolster his mood. Biding his time until he headed for the mayor’s mansion irritated him almost as much as waking up cold and alone in his bed had.

  The warmth of Indie’s curves and her sweet breaths whispering over his chest had disappeared around three. The absence still stung.

  Worry over what Indie might encounter at her mother’s swirled in his empty gut. It rumbled its disagreement. His mama was making everyone on the ranch breakfast. He’d head that way as soon as he checked the back fields, but truthfully, he wasn’t going to make for good company. Far too worried over Indie’s inevitable misery at the hands of her mother, all he wanted was to ride in on his pick-up and play the part of knight-in-dirty-cowboy-boots. The brunch thing was supposed to be over around 2:00. He planned to be there early.

  Scanning the fields and creek in the farthest fields on his land, he narrowed his eyes. “Shit.” Heav
y footing the gas pedal, he sped towards the water’s edge and leapt out. Wading out into the water, his heart thundered out his panic as he pulled a half-drowned calf up into his arms.

  Heaving him onto the creek bank, Luke laid him on his sternum hoping to drain some of the water from his lungs. The calf didn’t move. Racing back to the truck, he grabbed his kit and a pack of syringes. Opening the calf’s mouth, he used a bulb syringe to clear the mucus that had gathered on his snout before he created a makeshift breathing tube and blew air into his lungs.

  A moment later, a low gurgled cough sounded from the little fellow, followed by a rush of water out of his mouth, and Luke seated himself on the damp grass, gasping for breath. Working quickly, he drew up a syringe of steroids that would continue to clear his lungs. When the steer finally stood and shook off the water, relief welled in Luke’s soul. “You ain’t quite big enough for that swim, little fella. Where’s your mama, anyway?”

  The nearest herd was out in the field chewing cud. One of the heifers was bellowing anxiously. Luke loaded the calf in the back of his truck, drove him to the herd, and dropped him off with the gathered calves resting in the sun. He circled the field, slowly checking to make certain the calf was eating and hadn’t suffered any permanent injuries from his attempt at cooling off. When he was certain the steer was going to be fine, he turned and headed towards his parents’ house, hoping that he was going to be two for two in the savior department that day.

  Guests began arriving at a quarter to eleven. Indie was biting holes in her tongue to keep from commenting on the passive aggressive shit storm her mother stirred constantly. Carolyn had offered Melony a half-hearted apology about the catering bill and explained that the mayor was teaching Melony a lesson. With that comment, it seemed Tucker Kilroy’s line of patience snapped in two, and he’d unloaded on Carolyn with both barrels. Currently, both Melony and her mother were sniffling and taking turns shooting vexing glares at one another.