Rodeo Dad

by Carla Cassidy

  She frowned as she drove past a copse of trees and Johnny’s house came into view. She hadn’t been out here in years, but the condition of the house and outbuildings shocked her.

  She’d heard the place had fallen into ruins, but hearing and actually seeing were two different things.

  Weathered gray with two broken windows and a sagging front porch, the house radiated crushed spirits and bitter failure.

  The outbuildings all cried out for new lumber and roofing, and fresh paint. However, the corral sported fresh lumber and a shining new gate.

  As Marissa pulled the car to a stop, Johnny stepped out of the house. Marissa felt her breath catch at the sight of him He was shirtless, with worn, faded jeans riding low on his hips.

  “I see you have your priorities straight,” Marissa said as she got out of the car. She gestured to the newly repaired corral, then to the house. “Looks like you’ve still got a lot of work ahead of you.”

  Johnny knocked the black hat he wore back on his head and followed her gaze. He nodded. “Yeah, but hard work never scared me. Besides, structurally everything is sound, the place just needs some cosmetic surgery. I’m replacing the broken windows this afternoon, the beginning of the face-lift ”

  “I can help you,” Benjamin offered, standing close to Marissa.

  “That would be great. I could use an extra pair of hands,” Johnny replied, his gaze warm as it lingered on his son. “If you want to, you can go on inside and explore. Pick out the bedroom you’d like to be yours if you ever spend the night here.”

  “I can pick any of the rooms I want?” Benjamin asked. “Even the biggest one?”

  Johnny laughed, a deep, pleasant rumble. “Yes, even the biggest. And in one of those rooms, you’ll find a little surprise.”

  “Oh boy.” Benjamin gave Marissa a quick hug. “I’ll see you later, Mom.” He tore off running and disappeared into the house.

  “I got him a couple packages of baseball cards,” Johnny explained. “I can’t do much for him right now,” he continued, his gaze not meeting hers. “You’ve had the sole financial responsibility for him for too long. It might take me a couple of months to get on my feet, but eventually I want to contribute to his support.”

  “We’re doing all right, Johnny,” Marissa replied. “He doesn’t lack for anything.”

  His gaze met hers, dark and intense. “This isn’t about his needs or wants. It’s about me being his father, taking the responsibility of a father.”

  Marissa didn’t protest again, realizing it was pride that shone from his eyes. He needed to do for Benjamin and in doing so perhaps he could salvage his self-esteem.

  “Tell me about him,” Johnny said suddenly. “Tell me everything there is to know about Benjamin.”

  Marissa remembered what her mother had said...that Johnny needed Benjamin far more than Benjamin needed Johnny. She looked at Johnny, saw the hunger on his face. “His favorite food is pizza, and he loves the color blue. He dislikes cruelty of any kind, and he has a wonderful sense of responsibility. He has a quirky sense of humor and likes practical jokes.”

  “How much did he weigh at birth? What was his first word?” Johnny looked at her, his yearning to know his son apparent in the shining depths of his eyes.

  Marissa closed her eyes, remembering that night nine years and three months ago. Despite the fact that her parents had been at her side, she’d felt lonely and fnghtened.

  Her labor pains had not only hurt her physically, but mentally as well, reminding her that the baby she gave birth to would not have a father. Single parenthood terrified her, and her heart ached for the little boy who wouldn’t know his father’s love. “He weighed seven pounds, ten ounces, and he was born with a full head of dark hair. When the doctor placed him in my arms, I thought he was the most beautiful, perfect baby that had ever been born.”

  “I wish I could have been there.” His voice was filled with a yearning so deep, so profound, Marissa felt it in her own heart.

  She didn’t want to feel his pain, didn’t want to shoulder the burden of his grief over time lost and never regained.

  He sighed, and in the depth of his sigh, Marissa heard all his loss, the loss not only of time, but of hope. She didn’t know for sure what he’d felt for her years before, but she knew they were not the same people they had been.

  She never again wanted to feel the all-consuming, crazy depth of love she’d once felt for him, because when that love fled, or was withdrawn, it left a hole too big in the heart.

  Despite her intentions otherwise, his grief over missing so much of Benjy’s life reached inside her and clutched her heart.

  She placed her hand on his forearm. “Johnny, Benjamin still has a lot of life to live. He’s going to want you, need you to be a part of that life.”

  He nodded, then looked down to where her hand still clutched his arm. “I always did like your hands, Marissa,” he said, his smooth, deep voice slicing through her in a wave of heat.

  She started to pull her hand away, but he stopped her, placing his on top of hers and guiding it to his bare chest. “So soft...so small and dainty, yet I can remember how magical they feel against my chest, across my stomach....”

  “Johnny, stop,” she said, attempting to pull her hand from his. The feel of his sun-warmed chest, and the dark wiry hair that tickled her palm, made her heart pound faster, her legs grow weak.

  He released her hand, his eyes dark and hooded. “I need to have you one more time, Marissa. It’s what I thought about each night in prison. It’s what kept me going. We had no closure, and I need to make love to you one last time for that closure to happen.”

  “You’re talking nonsense,” she said, stepping backward, needing physical distance from him. “We’ve had ten years to resolve anything that might have been between us at one time.”

  “If you’ve resolved it so well, then why is your heart pounding so fast? Why do you tremble at my touch?” His eyes were knowing and the smile he gave her held a touch of arrogance.

  She hated him for being able to affect her on such a primal level. She hated him for the fact that she wished he would make love to her just one more time.

  “I’ve got to get to work,” she said, refusing to answer his questions. “I’ll be back to pick up Benjy around noon.”

  “Why don’t I bring him home after supper this evening?”

  “I’m not sure he’ll want to stay that long,” Marissa replied. After all, this was the first day Benjamin would be spending with his father...but that father was in fact a stranger.

  “Then I’ll bring him home whenever he’s ready,” Johnny countered. “And if he wants to go home early and you aren’t home from the flower shop yet, then I’ll bring him by there.”

  “Okay,” Marissa agreed, needing to be away from him, feeling as if somehow his touch had disturbed her equilibrium.

  She started toward her car, but paused as she heard the sound of horse hooves, saw a cloud of dust stirred in the distance. Within seconds a horse came into view, a man riding hell-bent for leather toward the Crockett ranch.

  Johnny moved to stand next to her.

  “It’s Brad Emery,” Marissa said. Tension rippled through her as she realized not only was Brad riding hard and fast, but coiled in his hand was his infamous bullwhip.

  Fear shot through Marissa. She’d seen Brad use that bullwhip. Each year at the fair, he showed his prowess at a demonstration of talent. He could flick the flame off a candle, flip out the eye of a plastic doll. But it wasn’t a candle or a doll he was after now.

  As he drew closer, she saw rage in his eyes...eyes that were directed intently at Johnny.

  Chapter 4

  As Brad Emery came closer, Marissa could see the horse’s rolling eyes, the flaring nostrils. It was as if the rage of the man astride struck terror in the heart of the beast.

  “Johnny,” she said, her voice a warning as Brad reined in, dismounted and faced Johnny, bullwhip in hand.

  “If you�
��ve come to whip my butt, I hope you didn’t come alone,” Johnny said, standing tall and seemingly unafraid as he faced the equally tall, broad-shouldered man.

  “I don’t need help fighting my battles,” Brad exclaimed, blood rage darkening the hue of his brown eyes. “You’ve got some nerve, Crockett, coming back here where you’ve caused nothing but pain and heartache.”

  “We’ve been through this before, Emery. I had nothing to do with Sydney’s death.” Johnny’s voice was cool, calm, but Marissa felt the tension that shimmered in the air between the two men.

  “You’re a liar. You killed her. You squeezed her neck until she was dead. And now you get to continue your life, but Sydney is dead to us forever.” Brad’s face was red with fury, the redness extending across his scalp, showing beneath his pale blond hair

  “Brad,” Marissa said as she stepped toward him, wanting to stop the madness before it went any further. “Brad, please...”

  Johnny grabbed her arm and pulled her back, a protective gesture that seemed to further enrage Brad. The whip uncoiled, hanging loose, but with the tension of a snake getting ready to strike.

  “Oh, that’s right,” he said, his handsome features twisted into something mean, and unbecoming “You can come back here and find some other poor innocent woman to bed. How about it, Marissa? Do you like sleeping with a murderer?”

  Marissa gasped with shock at the ugliness of his words.

  Brad smirked knowingly. “I guess if you can’t get an Emery, the next best thing is the mayor’s daughter,” he said.

  “That’s enough,” The words snapped from Johnny with the sharpness of gunfire. “You’re trespassing, Emery. Get the hell off my land.”

  “You bastard, your presence in Mustang is going to kill Rachel and Gillian. Knowing you’re here, living just fine and dandy, it’s breaking their hearts. Rachel lost a daughter, and Gillian a big sister. You lost nothing but a little time.”

  Without warning, Brad cracked the whip. It licked precariously close to Johnny’s cheek. Johnny didn’t flinch. A small scream of fear erupted from Marissa. She knew that a kiss from the whip could lay open a wicked wound or take out an eye.

  “Mom?” Benjamin called from the porch, his voice reedy thin with fear.

  “Marissa, go with Benjamin into the house,” Johnny said, his voice cool and deadly controlled.

  Marissa hesitated, afraid that without her presence the two men would kill each other. But, one look at her son spurred her to do what Johnny had said.

  Benjamin stood on the porch, frozen like a statue, his eyes widened in fear.

  Marissa ran to the porch. The two men continued to face each other as she hurried Benjamin into the house.

  Once inside, Marissa moved to the front window, afraid to watch...afraid not to watch the confrontation taking place outside.

  She couldn’t hear what was being said, and from her new vantage point she could only see Brad’s face and Johnny’s back.

  “Mom?” Benjamin’s voice was small, subdued with fear as he touched her arm.

  Although she felt the need to continue to watch the drama between the two men, her son’s need was greater. She turned away from the window and pulled him toward the sofa, where they sat side by side.

  She drew him close to her, felt the tension that stiffened his slender shoulders. “He thinks Dad killed his sister, doesn’t he?” he asked.

  “Yes, honey, he does. He’s sad about his sister’s death, and sometimes sadness turns to anger.” She hugged Benjamin close, knowing this was just the first taste of what Johnny might expect by returning home.

  “Didn’t Dad tell him he didn’t kill that girl?” Benjamin asked.

  “Yes, but Brad doesn’t believe your father.”

  “Do you believe Dad?” Benjamin gazed at her with trusting eyes.

  “Absolutely,” Marissa answered without hesitation. “Your dad is a good man who got caught up in things outside his control.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I think,” Benjamin said.

  At that moment Johnny walked through the front door. Both Benjamin and Marissa jumped up to meet him. Benjamin hugged him around the waist.

  “Everything okay?” Marissa asked worriedly.

  Johnny nodded as he patted Benjamin’s back. “Brad just needed to blow off some steam. Basically he told me to get out of town.”

  “Are you leaving?” Benjamin asked. He pulled away from Johnny and looked up at him with unabashed anxiety. Marissa knew what her son feared...that he’d only just discovered his father three days before and already there was the threat of his father going away.

  “No, son. I’m not going anywhere,” Johnny said firmly. “This is my home and I have every right to be here. Nobody is going to drive me away.” His gaze met Marissa’s and in the blue depths Marissa saw his fierce determination, coupled with a hint of hurt vulnerability.

  “You knew it was going to be tough,” she said softly, affected by the trace of pain in his eyes.

  He nodded, then looked at his son. “Benjamin, did you find the baseball cards?” Benjamin nodded. “Why don’t you go into one of the bedrooms and sort them out? I’ll walk your mom out to her car so she can get to work.”

  “Okay,” Benjamin agreed and he dashed off down the hallway.

  “Yeah, I knew settling here wouldn’t be easy,” Johnny said as he and Marissa stepped out of the house and onto the front porch. “I guess I thought ten years passing might dull the Emerys’ hatred of me, that their pain might be lessened by the passing of time.”

  “Maybe you should call Jesse. Maybe there should be an official report of this confrontation,” Marissa suggested.

  “Nah, there’s no reason to bother the sheriff. Brad just needed to vent. I imagine I won’t be bothered by him again.”

  They reached Marissa’s car and she leaned her back against the driver door. “But what if you are?” Worry coursed through her as she remembered Brad’s rage, the sharp snap of his bullwhip. “Brad has a bad temper, and he’s more than proficient with that whip. He could hurt you before you even see it coming.”

  “Worried about me, Marissa? Be careful. You wouldn’t want the townspeople to get wind of that.” Johnny leaned forward, placing an arm on either side of her, effectively trapping her against the car.

  “Of course not!” she snapped, angered by how quickly her body reacted to his nearness. She could feel the heat of his bare chest radiating toward her, felt her nipples tighten in response. Her legs felt wobbly and her heart pounded an unsteady rhythm. “I’m sure you can take care of yourself,” she replied.

  “In some things perhaps, but not in all things.” He smiled, letting her know he wasn’t talking about standing up to Brad, but something far more intimate.

  He touched her cheek softly, his thumb caressing down her skin to trace her jawline. “Did you think of me, Marissa? In the darkness of night for the last ten years, did you think of me...my touch...my kiss?”

  She wanted to lie. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing how often she’d thought of him, how deeply she’d yearned to be in his arms one last time. But, the lie refused to be verbalized.

  “Yes.” The word whispered from her as if torn from the depths of her soul. “Yes, I thought about you. I thought about your kisses, I thought about our lovemaking.” She batted his hand away from her face, and he took a step backward. “But that doesn’t matter anymore. I don’t know you, Johnny. Ten years have passed. I’m not that vulnerable, innocent young woman anymore, and I’m not willing to have a cheap affair with you because your hormones are raging from ten years of imprisonment.”

  She opened her car door and slid behind the steering wheel. “You are part of my past, Johnny. And the only role you have in my future is as Benjamin’s father, nothing more. We’ll share his life, but that’s all we’ll share.” She slammed her car door to emphasize her statement.

  As she pulled away, she looked in her rearview mirror and saw him standing where she’d left
him, a smile curving his lips And in the smile, she read the knowledge that he intended to be something more to her than Benjamin’s father.

  Johnny watched her drive away, wondering why he felt the need to torment her. To torment himself? He wasn’t sure if he wanted to punish her, or if he was somehow testing himself.

  He could still smell the sweet fragrance of her, feel the silken softness of her skin and still maintain control, but for how long?

  Ten years was a long time for a man to go without making love to a woman, to go without intimacy of any kind. Although his body ached with the need for physical release, there was a touch of fear there as well. Celibacy had become a way of life, not only celibacy of the body, but deprivation of the soul as well.

  During his prison time he’d lived in a self-imposed bubble of isolation, inviting no friendships, trusting only in himself. At the moment he didn’t trust in anything or anyone else...except Benjamin. A relationship with his son was the only kind he wanted. So, he was back to the same question...why did he feel the need to torment either of them? It was a question with no answer.

  “Dad, can the bedroom with the blue wallpaper be mine?” Benjamin called from the front door.

  Johnny nodded, unsurprised that his son had chosen that room. It had the best view of the corral and was the only bedroom adjoining the bathroom. “Sure,” he said as he walked toward the porch.

  “And sometimes I could spend the night with you and sleep in that room?”

  “Anytime you want and your mom says it’s okay.”

  “Cool!” Benjamin disappeared down the hallway as Johnny entered the house. Johnny smiled and shook his head, wishing the dilemmas he knew he would face in the coming days were as easy as choosing a bedroom.

  He and Benjamin had a good day together. They worked side by side as they replaced the broken windows, then began the bigger job of painting the outside of the house. As they worked, Benjamin kept up a steady stream of chatter, telling Johnny about school, his baseball buddies and all the things that were important to a nine-year-old.

  At lunchtime they stopped and made bologna sandwiches, then sat on the porch and ate them with chips and sodas. “I like it out here,” Benjamin said as he finished the last of his sandwich. “I wish we could all live here. You and me and Mom.”