The Divine Creek Ranch Collection Volume 4

by Heather Rainier

  “Hey, Lil! ’Member what Mom said about the steps!” Clay jumped from his bike with Del hot on his heels, their bikes landing in a big jumble on the front yard as they chased Lily Valentine the last few feet toward the front door. The concrete was wet because his mom had been spraying it down after they’d finished with yard work earlier.

  Del hollered, “Lil! You’re gonna bust your butt on the—”

  “Lily!” Clay yelled as Lily’s rubber flip-flops slipped on the second wet concrete step and she went sprawling, face-first, onto the steps above. “Oh, shit! Mom!”

  Clay’s mom rushed through the front screen door as they reached Lily on the stairs. Lily groaned in pain and sniffled, fighting back tears as they helped her into a sitting position on the steps.

  Mom grimaced when she saw all the blood. “Oh, sweetie, let’s get you inside where I can clean this up and get some ice on it. You boys help her up the stairs and then go put your bikes away.”

  The boys did as they were told, helping Lily to her feet. Her knees and shins were skinned raw in places, but the cut on her chin was a real doozy, leaking bright-red blood onto her T-shirt. By the time they had their bikes put away and had come in the house, Mom had Lily cleaned up and sucking on a piece of one of her homemade pralines.

  Mom crouched down and looked at the split in her chin. “Lily, I think this needs stitches.”

  “Nuh-uh!” Lily replied. “If I get stitches they’ll make fun of me at school.”

  “Nope. Stitches are cool,” Del crossed his arms over his chest, like the know-it-all older brother that he was. Never mind that he was in the same third grade class they were in.

  “For boys, maybe,” Lily replied as Mom blotted at the blood still dripping from her chin. “They already tease me for being fat.”

  His mom frowned at her words, and Clay knew Lily was right. She did get teased for being a bit chubby. He thought it was too bad because he and Del had a lot of fun with her. She was a pretty good friend to have, and she could defend herself if she needed to. That was pretty cool, too.

  “Lily, it may be uncomfortable but this won’t heal properly without them. I’ll call your mom and we’ll meet her at the emergency room.”

  “Oh, all right,” Lily grumbled as she took another bite of her praline. “Can the horny toads come, too?” she asked as she grinned crookedly because of her bloodied lip. Clay stuck his tongue out then grinned as he and Del grabbed a couple of fresh pralines each and followed Mom out to the car.

  Lily needed six sutures across the center of her chin, right at her jawline, and Clay and Del were entranced as they watched the doctor stitch up the damage. The next day, just as Lily predicted, several of the meaner boys at school teased her, calling her “Whiskers” because of the black stitches poking out. Just like Clay knew she would, Lily beat the tar out of a couple of them before the teacher could stop her. She might be a little chubby, she might have whiskers, at least temporarily, but Lily was a feisty one, and a good friend to him and his brother.

  * * * *

  The next morning, one of the nurses on the surgical floor pointed Clay in the direction of the room Lily occupied. He placed the cheerful flower arrangement on her bedside table. The blinds were drawn, and it was obvious she was still sleeping. On silent feet, he approached the bed. She didn’t stir as he sat gingerly on the chair beside the bed and lifted her delicate hand in his.

  There was so much of her that was familiar and yet so much that was foreign. Her full lips were the same soft pink that he remembered, though still a bit pale, but they were the sensual lips of a full-grown woman. A little chubby as a child, she had grown into a voluptuous woman with sleek, rounded curves. Her hair was much, much longer than he’d ever remembered seeing it, probably extending past her rear end.

  It was obvious by the slight lines around her eyes and mouth that she smiled often, but there was a fragile, indefinable quality to her as she lay in the hospital bed. There was a hint of some emotion in the set of her lips that pulled at his heart. Not exactly a frown, but more of a heart-sadness. Clay shook his head, thinking he was getting a little too touchy-feely with his artist side. She shivered slightly, and for a moment her hand gripped his and then went limp as he released it to tuck the blanket in around her.

  He wondered for the hundredth time what had been the cause behind the accident and what had brought her back to Divine, loaded down with her personal possessions. Added to that list now was the faint, intuitive feeling that she had reentered his life for a purpose. He shook his head again as he rose from the chair, unwilling to disturb her.

  Clay knew all the stereotypes about artists—that they were flaky, in touch with their emotions, and generally unreliable. Hell, he’d lived some of those categorizations over the years, but his gut was telling him that she needed him. He left a message for her with one of the nurses and went on to the shop.

  A couple of hours later, Tabitha swung one side of his workroom doors open.

  “There’s a man in the showroom asking to speak to the owner. He said he doesn’t have an appointment.” Clay could tell by her tone that she was slightly peeved and hoping Clay would tell her to send the man away.

  Repositioning the magnifying light he was working with, Clay shook his head. “I’ll talk to him. I could use the break.”

  He raised his arms over his head and stretched. No acknowledgment came from the doorway, and Clay glanced in Tabitha’s direction. He cringed inwardly when he saw the way she was gaping at him with her jaw hanging open.

  Switching off the lamp, he pretended he hadn’t noticed her hungry expression. He glanced at the “No Dating Policy” tacked to the bulletin board and mentally thanked the friend who had suggested it when Tabitha had first come to work for him. She’d been visibly disappointed when he’d mentioned the policy to her one day when she’d hinted that she found him attractive.

  “Did he tell you what he wants?”

  Tabitha curled her lip as she focused her attention on her manicure and whispered, “He doesn’t look like he can afford much in here. I don’t know what he wants. He wouldn’t say.”

  That was the real reason she was being pissy.

  Clay slipped past her and walked directly over to the man who stood looking at the engagement rings inside one of the showroom cases. He had on faded jeans, a plain white T-shirt, and work boots. He looked like the average working man, not necessarily polished or well-off but not a bum like Tabitha had suggested with her attitude.

  “Hi, I’m Clay Cook. What can I do for you?” He held out his hand and the man looked up, smiled, and shook with him in greeting.

  “Beck O’Malley. I’m pleased to meet you, Clay. I was just looking at your engagement rings.”

  “Tabitha said you asked to speak with me directly.”

  Beck looked at him and smiled, evidently appreciating the direct approach. “I’m new in town. My girlfriend and I just moved here. At least she’s my girlfriend right now. I’d like to propose to her. We moved here so I could start a new venture, and it’s…slow going.”

  “What business are you in?”

  “Beekeeping. Honey harvesting.”

  That raised Clay’s eyebrows a bit. “I’ve never met a beekeeper before,” he said with a chuckle.

  “Not many of us around here, I guess.”

  “So what can I do for you?”

  “I wondered if you were open to bartering…for a ring.”

  “To be honest, I’m not sure I’d ever use that much honey, Beck.”

  Beck grinned. “The beekeeping is my fulltime business nowadays, but I’ve also done mechanic work, auto body and interior repair, carpentry, you name it, I can probably do it.”

  Chewing the inside of his lip, Clay thought about the little silver Mazda parked outside the shop. “You drink coffee?”

  Momentarily taken aback, as though he’d been prepared to be turned down, Beck’s eyes widened, and he nodded. “Sure.”

  Clay gestured to the coffee shop
located just a few hundred yards away in the shopping center. Above the small building was a cheerful, busy, red sign declaring “Divine Drip” on it. “Why don’t we get some coffee and talk? Tabitha, I’ll be back in a bit.”

  “Sure thing, Clay,” Tabitha called out as Beck followed him out the door.

  Obviously picking up on the way Tabitha had of drawing out Clay’s name like a caress, Beck asked, “That your wife? Should we bring her a coffee?”

  Suppressing a shudder at the thought of Tabitha as his wife, Clay replied, “No. She’s an employee. And, no, she doesn’t drink coffee. So you’re a beekeeper?”

  They walked across the parking lot as they talked about bees, honey, and engagement rings.

  * * * *

  Lily struggled to full alertness. She’d learned years ago that it didn’t pay to lie around once she’d awakened. Not if she didn’t want to start the day with a hard hand across her buttocks. Her eyes felt like they’d been glued shut, and a painful ache drew her attention to her abdomen.

  Disoriented, she looked around the unfamiliar room. She heard an echoing voice over an intercom system outside the doorway, and it dawned on her that she was in a hospital. An IV was still attached to her left forearm. She raised her right hand and rubbed her forehead and her eyes. Her arms felt stiff, and when she tried to stretch her legs, she was assaulted by a searing pain in her abdomen. It hadn’t been just stress or food poisoning she was suffering from. Something had been seriously wrong, and she wracked her brain trying to remember how she’d even found her way to the hospital.

  Laying her head back on the pillow, she closed her eyes, trying to piece the memories together. She’d been lost and decided to stop somewhere. Clay Cook. Had she seen Clay Cook? No, she didn’t think so. All she could recall was pulling into the parking lot Stigall’s was located in, and then everything had gone dark.

  Groaning out loud, she hoped she hadn’t hurt anybody, surmising that she must’ve passed out behind the wheel. She was lucky she hadn’t been on the highway when that happened. She lifted the blanket and placed her hand on her abdomen.

  Appendicitis? She’d felt nauseated for so much of the trip and the pain had been increasingly hard to ignore. Luckily she had a high tolerance for pain. Being married to JT had taught her to ignore pain. Otherwise there would’ve been so much of it she would’ve collapsed under the weight of it years ago.

  More memories intruded. Earlier that morning, before fleeing from Durst, she’d realized that she’d forgotten the auto repair shop ledger at home. The brothers hadn’t wanted to spend the money for a computer and Internet access, so Lily did their books by hand. She’d driven back home to pick it up. It was still early, and when Lily saw his truck still parked in front of the house, she’d assumed JT was getting ready for the workday.

  JT had told her he’d be coming in late because he’d needed to shower that morning. The fact that he’d showered the night before should’ve been her clue that something was up. She’d felt ill and hadn’t given his words another thought as she’d left for work before it was fully light.

  The thumping sound of flesh pounding against flesh had greeted her as she’d walked into their rundown, singlewide mobile home.

  “Oh, yeah! Fuck me, JT! Gimme that big fucking cock!” Smack! “Oh! Baby, yes! Harder!” There had been no mistaking the abrasive voice of her sister-in-law, Natalie, who was married to JT’s brother and business partner, Dirk King.

  JT had growled a response, and the pounding sounds had intensified as Lily had come to a standstill in her bedroom doorway.

  She’d wondered if she was hallucinating at first. That hadn’t been her house. That hadn’t been her bed. That hadn’t been her husband spearing his cock into her sister-in-law Natalie’s cunt. But it had been.

  He’d roared in orgasm a few seconds later, thrusting brutally, and then had flattened Natalie beneath him. He’d looked over at Lily with pure fury in his eyes. He’d pulled his cock out and leaped from the bed, stark naked, and had strode toward the door where she’d stood frozen like a statue. With the odor of another woman on him, he’d fisted the collar of her faded gray polo and the waistband of her worn blue jeans and had knocked the air from her as he’d flung her bodily out of the bedroom doorway.

  JT was very strong, and she’d sailed across the small living room, knocking a lamp and everything else off an end table as she’d landed against it. She’d seen stars for a moment and cringed in fear as he’d charged at her and picked her up from the floor by the front of her shirt and her blue jeans once more. His cock had been rock hard again, and a deeper fear had flashed to life inside of her.

  He’d gotten right in her face, spittle flying with his words as he’d said, “I’m ready for round two, and unless you want to join in the fun I suggest you get the fuck out of here, you worthless, fat fucking bitch! I’ll deal with you tonight.”

  She had known exactly what that meant and had wondered if she’d survive. JT’s sexual appetite was rapacious, and his habits were well known in the community of Durst. There had been plenty of rumors which she’d learned to ignore, but this had been the first time she’d caught him fucking another woman. Roughly, he pushed her away from him, his fists as hard as rocks against her chest and her abdomen. At least that time she’d stayed on her feet.

  Lily had done exactly as she’d been told. Like an automaton, she’d backed from the door as Natalie’s raucous laughter filled the air. Only someone who really hated her could’ve found amusement in a situation like that. Given the way Natalie had always treated her, Lily couldn’t have said she was surprised.

  She looked around the hospital room and thought it odd that relief didn’t course through her at the notion that she was somewhere safe. Away from him. She was free, but all she felt was…empty. Alone.

  The latch on the door clicked, and a kindly looking older man with white hair walked in the room. “Ah, you’re awake, I see.”

  Mutely, Lily nodded.

  “I’m Doctor Burns,” he said, holding out his large hand to her. “I performed your laparotomy last night, young lady.”

  Hardly young anymore. “Pleased to meet you, Doctor. Will I be all right? What happened to me?”

  Doctor Burns spent the next few minutes filling her in on the details. She was stunned when he told her that she’d been suffering from internal bleeding caused by a ruptured ectopic pregnancy. Pregnant?

  When she explained where she’d come from, he replied, “You, Mrs. King, are one lucky lady. A four-hour drive, alone, in your condition? It’s a miracle you’re alive. Someone must be watching over you.” He smiled at her from behind bushy, white eyebrows. “Your chart indicates that law enforcement has already contacted your husband, and I would imagine he’ll be here soon.”

  A cold, hard knot twisted painfully in her chest. “You called my husband?”

  “I wondered about that,” he replied softly. “If you don’t want to see him, you don’t have to. I’m sorry, my dear.” He pushed a button located on the side rail of the bed. A nurse entered the room and smiled at her in greeting. With Lily’s permission, he gently lifted the edge of the gown. “When I saw this bruising on your sternum, I wondered if they should’ve waited. My main concern then was stopping the bleeding.”

  “I left my husband yesterday. I’m filing for divorce as soon as I can see a lawyer.”

  As he checked the dressing over the incision in her abdomen, she paled even further. Doctor Burns and the nurses who had taken care of her had undoubtedly seen JT’s mark, which was permanently tattooed on her lower abdomen, above her mound. Imagining the revulsion in their eyes at the sight of it made her heart burn with shame. What must they be thinking of her?

  Doctor Burns replaced her gown and the bedcovers and nodded to the nurse as she went about her work. They had a brief talk once the nurse left the room about domestic abuse, and he told her he was proud of her for getting out of a bad situation.

  He suggested that she document her current condi
tion, including the fresh bruise on her breastbone and the old, numerous bruises and scars on her body. She agreed, knowing she needed the official documentation and hoping it wouldn’t be necessary to show those photos to anyone.

  He promised to have the sheriff contacted so the situation could be handled appropriately, if JT showed up. She doubted he’d just let it be. She’d hoped to fade into the woodwork in Divine and he’d never hear from her again, unless it was to serve him divorce papers.

  “I’d like to keep you for observation for a couple of days. You’ll want to set a follow-up appointment. Do you have a doctor here yet?”

  “No.”

  “Then I’ll refer you to Doctor Emma Guthrie. I have a feeling you’ll like her a lot. Once you’re released, do you have anyone you can stay with, to help you?”

  Desolation crept in on her again. “No. I—”

  “Yes, she does,” an unfamiliar, deep voice said from the doorway.

  She heard the scuff of footsteps as a tall man stepped into her room. A man she remembered as a little boy. Her heart pounded and tears clouded her eyes as she took in the sight of him. She was vaguely aware of Doctor Burns asking for his name and then patting her hand and telling her he’d see her the following morning.

  Clay Cook stood there in all his full-grown glory, as handsome as she’d always fantasized he’d be. He’d grown tall just like his father, who had been at least six foot five inches, and Clay was every bit as powerful looking, too. When he smiled at her with that little crooked grin of his, the tears overflowed her eyes. She remembered that smile, too. He sat in the chair beside the bed, took her right hand in his and squeezed gently. His moss-green eyes were also the same, so unusual with their gold coronas ringing the pupils. At that moment, they flickered with concern.

  “I’ve missed you, Lily. We all missed you.”

  Lily’s lip trembled, and suddenly the dam she’d held back so long burst open. Clay listened quietly as she told him everything, just blurted it all out. It occurred to her that she’d had no one to talk to since her early days of college, before she’d met JT. Like when she was little, she told Clay everything. Well, almost everything. Some parts were just too humiliating to share.