by Andrew Grey
Nowhere to Ride
ANDREW GREY
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Nowhere to Ride
© 2021 Andrew Grey
Cover Art
@ 2021 Reese Dante
http://www.reesedante.com
Cover content is for illustrative purposes only and any person depicted on the cover is a model.
Editing and Interior Text Design by Tricia Kristufek
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. Requests for permission should be addressed to the author.
v. 1.0.
Printed in the United States of America.
Nowhere to Ride
By Andrew Grey
Unjustly accused of a crime, Ky Archer is trying to keep his ranch together, with fierce tenacity and minimal help. With his nefarious accuser the lead wolf at the door, Ky is resolved to do whatever he has to in order to keep the final link with his family intact.
Brodie Tyler is down on his luck—way down. Down enough to camp with his baby sister in a tent to get away from relatives he’d hoped would help him. His parents are gone and he’s got nowhere to go, but he’s determined to keep his sister safe with him, no matter what.
Ky finds Brodie and his sister on his property and takes them in out of the storm… literally. Neither expects the heat that ignites between them to be as hot as the western sun. The men find they fit together well, both at work and in the bedroom. They also find they have a common enemy who is trying to tear them apart. Working together, they might discover that each holds the key for the other’s desire.
To all my writer friends, especially Amy, Karen, Ariel, Anne, Misty, VB, Hope, and Mary. At some point in my career, each of you inspired me in ways you will never know.
C hapter One
Jesus Christ, he was tired. No matter what Ky Archer did, the list of shit that needed done was always a foot longer than he had time for. Finally he’d had the chance to try to get caught up, and he’d taken it. Of course, now he was paying for it. He wasn’t that damned old, but he was starting to feel like he’d been broken and put back together all wrong. His edges seemed jagged, and he wondered what the fuck else could go to hell.
“Ky,” Ben Carter called from across the yard. He was Ky’s one permanent hand on the small family ranch. The operation had never been big, but when his daddy had passed two years ago, well, there hadn’t been much left. Ky was trying to rebuild the place, and one thing was clear: there was a lot yet to do. It was approaching the point where, between him and the ranch, one of them was going to break… and Ky was afraid it was going to be him.
“What’s up?” Ky asked, wiping his forehead with a rag. His insides clenched, but he refused to let it show. This was his ranch now—somehow he was going to make it a success, better than it had ever been. It didn’t matter if half the county thought he shouldn’t be walking free. They were mired in their own opinions. The courts had seen that he hadn’t done what everyone seemed to think he did and had ruled that way. Since returning to the ranch, he’d had more than his share of trouble, though.
Ben took off his hat and wiped his head. He took his time, and the longer he stayed silent, the worse Ky knew the news was going to be. “Mr. T-T-T-Tyler gave me a m-m-message.”
“I bet he did,” Ky said softly. “What did he want?”
Ben was a hard worker and someone Ky trusted. Because of his stutter, most folks simply looked past him. Maybe it was the fact that Ky was one of the people the folks in the small rural area of Arthur, Texas—about an hour or so west of Dallas—also wished they could just ignore, but when Ben had worked up the nerve to ask for a job, Ky had hired him on the spot. He’d been running the ranch alone for the six months after his mama died, all but worn down to a nub by then. Ben didn’t know it, but the man had saved Ky’s life.
“T-t-to buy your place,” Ben said. “Get you out of t-town.” He looked down at the dirt.
Ky patted Ben’s shoulder once. “Don’t worry, Ben. I’m not selling, and certainly not to him. Jacob Tyler can think that I was responsible for burning down his barn and his son dying trying to get the horses out all he wants, but I didn’t have anything to do with it.” Ky would never have hurt Mason. Even the jury and the court said he was not guilty. He’d repeated what he’d said a million times to himself. It was getting harder and harder to fight all the people who thought they knew better than the court… and the facts. What bothered Ky most of all was the fact that blaming him meant that whoever had really set the fire was still out there, able to do it again.
“I-I know that. You’re a g-good man.” He smiled and then turned back toward the barn that once held ten horses and now housed just the two, his and Ben’s. “I c-c-cleaned out the stalls and made s-s-sure the horses have plenty of w-water. I was going to l-leave them out into the s-s-south pasture, but judging by the c-clouds building, l-l-et’s bring them in so they can sp-spend the night in the barn out of the w-weather.” Ben hurried off to take care of the beasts. Those two animals were Ben’s joy. It didn’t matter what task needed to be done with the horses, Ben always did it with a smile.
Ky turned toward the west, watching as the clouds built to thunderheads. He knew what that meant, and checked the house and the barn, making sure everything was battened down. The cattle, he knew from experience, would make their way to the protection of the east side of the rise at the one end of the property. Mostly they just continued their eating no matter the weather, but still, he hurried to the slight rise near the house. Sure, enough the cattle were already in place, taking shelter near where the rock jutted out of the ground, just like they always did. Heck, he could predict the weather better than the guy on television just by watching his critters.
Thunder rolled in the distance, and Ky turned back to the house. But movement caught his gaze, and Ky strained to see wisps of smoke against the clouds. At first he thought it was his imagination, but the smoke was there. It was too concentrated to be a grass fire, and it was definitely on his land. Shit, what sort of trouble was he in for now?
“Ben!” he cried, racing back to the barn. “I need you to saddle Dante for me, and do it quick.” He was going to see what the hell was going on, and if he was going to have any hope of getting there and back before the storm hit, he was going to need that horse fast.
By time he reached the barn, Ben had the saddle on the horse and was checking the cinch. Ky got the bit in Dante’s mouth and the reins ready to go, then led the horse out of the barn. “Close up everything here and make sure the house is set for the storm. I need to see what damned fool has a fire on my land. The dogs are inside. Would you feed them and sit with them? Or else Misty will hide under the bed and not come out for three days.”
“I w-will,” Ben agreed, and Ky mounted and urged Dante forward, pushing him to a gallop as soon as they were out of the yard.
The thunder drew nearer and the air grew heavy with humidity as the storm approached. He could feel it getting closer even as the smoke became more pronounced when he crossed the open range to the scrub brush at the other side. A flash of lightning frizzled the air, and Ky willed Dante to stay ahead of the storm. The smoke became even more apparent, and he slowed at the edge of the scrub, tied Dante up well, and hurried toward through the brush.
Whoever had built the fire was in trouble. They needed to get off his land, and it needed to happen fast, because this storm was goi
ng to be a doozey. The sky grew even darker, making it hard to see, but he followed his nose as well as his eyes and eventually entered a small clearing.
“What are you doing?” Ky asked a man sitting near a small fire, stirring something in a tiny pot over the pathetic green-wooded fire.
The man stood and nearly tumbled over backward, probably in shock and surprise. He couldn’t have been much more than twenty, in old jeans and a shirt with holes. His hair went in every direction, and he had just enough blond fuzz on his cheeks to tell Ky that he hadn’t shaved in maybe three or four days. “I’m sorry. I was just making a little food before we took shelter.” He tilted his head toward an old orange tent that had probably seen much better use and was going to do very little to keep out the kind of rain that was headed their way. “I didn’t know this was anybody’s land.”
Ky tried to figure out what the hell was going on. “How did you get here? And why would you think that all this land isn’t owned by someone? You can’t just set up camp and build a fire anywhere you want. Heck, it’s possible to set the entire woods on fire.” Though it had been wet the last few weeks, a dry spell could mean this entire area of the county would go up in flames. When the grass got dry, there would be no stopping a wildfire. “And the storm that’s coming is going to be a bad one. You don’t want to be out in it, tent or not.” He checked the sky. “We got maybe ten or fifteen minutes before a deluge passes over us.” When it rained this time of year, it was a torrent.
“Oh,” he said softly. “I’m sorry. Look, I don’t got a place to go, and we were only staying the night. I plan to move on tomorrow, only Emily was getting hungry and she needed a place to sleep.” He turned to the tent, crouched to go inside, then backed out with a child of maybe eighteen months or so curled in his arms, fussing softly. Ky couldn’t see her, but it was clear to him that this kid needed care… more than she could get in a damned tent in the middle of nowhere.
Ky grabbed his temples as the air pressure changed, sending a jolt of pain through his head that lasted a few seconds before mostly subsiding. That always happened with storms. The change in pressure messed with his head, and he was certain to end up with a migraine. “Do you have a car?”
The guy nodded.
“Then get Emily and your stuff to it. My house is right over that way.” Ky pointed. “Go back down the access road the way you came and turn right. And get going fast.” As if to emphasize his point, the wind came up and billowed inside the tent, trying to pull it right off the ground. “Go! Now!” There was nothing he could do but shelter these two until the weather improved. Leaving them out here was likely a death sentence.
The kid hurried into the tent, hauled out two bags, which he swung over his shoulder, and then he took off, leaving the tent and whatever had been in the pan. Ky kicked sand over the fire, dousing it, and then raced back to Dante. His head pounded, but he untied the horse, mounted, and urged Dante home.
The horse took off like the hounds of hell were after him, and from the way the sky darkened and the wind picked up, they could just as well show up at any moment. Ky leaned forward slightly, giving the horse his head, fighting his own battle inside his skull, ignoring the waves of pain. Lightning flashed and thunder rolled loud and close, splitting the air. Ky was damned lucky Dante didn’t rear. The only thing likely keeping him calm was the fact that they were heading back to the barn and home.
Huge drops of rain began falling, sending up small clouds of dust as they hit the dry ground. The house got closer, and he let Dante run, knowing that was the best way to just get home. Lightning and thunder followed at almost the same time, the wind howling across the land. All Ky could think of was getting back.
Ben was out by the barn when Ky pulled Dante to a stop and jumped off. He handed over the reins for Ben to lead Dante inside. “Give him plenty of oats—he deserves it.” Ky headed toward the house just as what had to be one of the oldest and ugliest cars in the county slowly rolled into the drive. He wondered if it was simply running on prayers, because the old thing looked like it was going to give out at any moment.
The sky opened up as the car ground to a stop and the engine died. Ky groaned, raced out across the yard, and pulled open the door to the back. The little girl stared at him. He lifted her out of the seat, covering her with part of the faded blanket she was in, and ran for the house, already soaked by the time he reached the porch. Emily was crying now, the next clap of thunder making her scream. The guy slammed the car door and carried their bags across the yard, getting soaked in seconds.
“Come on, Ben,” Ky called as he saw him in the doorway of the barn.
Ben opened a black umbrella and paused to close the door before hurrying to join them.
“Get inside and go right to the kitchen,” Ky told the man, opening the door and ushering everyone into the house. He handed the little girl to Ben, who hustled her inside, and then Ky muscled the front door closed, hoping the wind wasn’t going to last too long. The dogs immediately hurried to him, and he petted each one, getting them settled down from the storm.
The power was out, which was to be expected with the wind like this. He joined the others in the kitchen, where the guy—Ky needed to find out his name—stood holding a still-fussing Emily, and everyone, including Ben, dripped on the floor.
Ky lit some candles for light and set them on the table. “Go on and get changed,” he told Ben, who went to the small addition Ky’s parents had made for his father’s mother years ago. “Let me get some towels, and I’ll bring some clothes you can wear. See if anything in those bags stayed dry enough for Emily, and we can wash and dry her things once the power returns.” He went to his bedroom to look for some things the guy wouldn’t swim in. He ended up with an old T-shirt and a pair of light sweatpants. Ky changed quickly and brought the dry clothes out. “By the way, I’m Ky Archer, and the quiet one is Ben.”
“You met Emily, and I’m Brodie Tyler.” He had Emily in dry clothes, and set her on her feet. She stayed close.
“The bathroom is right down the hall on the left. Go get cleaned up, and I’m going to make us something to eat.”
The wind had died down, but it looked like the rain had settled in to stay for a while. Ky got out one of the oil lamps, lit it, and placed it on the table for a little extra light. The power often went out during storms, as far away from town as they were, so he was grateful for the propane that ran the stove. He tried to figure out something simple Emily might eat, so he started on some pasta sauce. Emily might not like the sauce, but kids ate noodles, right? At least he hoped so. The little girl looked like she needed something good to eat, and Ky quickly got out the things he’d need from the fridge, including juice and milk. Then he got to work, cutting some bacon into small pieces and getting it into the pan. Onions and garlic followed, and he put water in a large pot on the stove. It was going to be a simple meal since he hadn’t been to town in a while, so he figured canned vegetables and fruit would have to do to round things out.
Ky was no fancy cook, but this was a dish his Italian mother had made enough times that he knew it by heart. The kitchen quickly filled with the scent of the bacon and aromatics, and Ky could almost imagine his mother sitting with him, telling him what to do. Red pepper flakes, not too much, a little thyme, and then you add the tomatoes….
Once he got the sauce simmering and the pasta cooking, he opened the cans and put the fruit cocktail into a bowl and on the table. He heated up the bean-and-carrot medley while the others all gathered.
“How is Emily?” Ky asked. “Do you want some milk for her?”
“Thank you,” Brodie said, and fished out a worn sippy cup. He filled it and handed it to Emily, who sucked it down like she hadn’t had anything to eat or drink in days. God, Ky hoped that wasn’t the truth.
“Th-th-the storm is p-passing,” Ben said as he looked outside.
“Is it still raining?” Ky asked, and Ben nodded. “Do you need to go to town after we eat?” He nodded once more. �
�Then make sure to get whatever Brodie needs too, if you would.” Ky figured Brodie was going to need diapers and God knows what else a little girl needed.
“We’re okay. We’ll be gone soon,” Brodie said, but Ky caught Ben’s gaze and saw him nod. Ben was the middle child of six, so it was likely he knew whatever the essentials were. Especially with four sisters and plenty of babies.
Ky fixed a bowl of buttered pasta and set it aside to cool a little for Emily before making up the rest of dinner and carrying the pot to the table. Ben got out plates, and soon enough they all settled down to eat. Ky’s headache had eased now that the storm had passed, and he ate a few bites and took some medication before continuing with his dinner.
Little Emily took a tentative bite of her pasta, then dug in, eating with gusto. Brodie ate like it was his last meal, and Ky wondered just how long it had been since these two had had a proper one. However long they stayed, they weren’t going to leave hungry, no matter what. His mama would roll over in her grave.
“You said your last name was Tyler?” Ky asked. Now that he had a chance to sit and think, he was wondering if there was any connection. “Any relationship to Jacob Tyler?”
Brodie flinched and then nodded. “He’s a cousin on my father’s side. His father and mine were brothers. They’re both dead, thank goodness. Neither of them was worth the powder to blow them up.”
Ky had known Jacob’s father, Henry, before he passed, and he had to agree with Brodie’s assessment. Henry Tyler had been a jackass, and unfortunately his son’s apple hadn’t rolled far from the tree.
Brodie smiled at Emily and helped her with her pasta. She was still eating intently, and Ky motioned for her cup to pour her some more milk. She just kept eating more. Man, that girl was going to have quite a belly when she was done, but at least it would be full.