by C. M. Steele
Down South
Southern Hospitality Series
C.M. Steele
Contents
Untitled
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Epilogue
Ten years later…
Down South
C.M. Steele
Copyrighted © 2017
All Rights Reserved
No part of this book may be reproduced, copied or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage or retrieval system without written expressed permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is purely coincidental.
Cover design: C.M. Steele
Cover Image: Deposit Photos
The use of actors, artists, movies, TV shows, and song titles/lyrics throughout this book are done so for storytelling purposes and should in no way be seen as advertisement. Trademark names are used in an editorial fashion with no intention of infringement of the respective owner’s trademark.
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All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior express, written consent of the author.
This book is intended for mature adults only. Contains sexual content and language that may offend some. Suggested reading audience is 18 years or older. I consider this book as Adult Erotic Romance.
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To C.P., without you this story wouldn’t have been written.
1
Maggie
FORECLOSURE
“Daddy what does this mean?” Tears were streaming down my face as I looked down at the letter that sat between my parents on the kitchen table. The large red letters on the paper were unmistakable, but there was no way to comprehend what was in front of me.
“It means that if I don’t earn enough with the next sale, we lose everything to this company in New York. They bought the loan and have given us time to pay it back or they will pull the loan.”
“I don’t understand. We should have money, daddy. You sold a lot of the cattle and the ranch was almost all the way paid off.”
“Yes, but it seems that my investments have been tanking and my bills are growing.”
“Wow, then you need to fire your accountant,” I snapped. This was unbelievable. I didn’t have any kind of business background, but I knew how much the cattle were worth and the bills weren’t anywhere near what he earned. It didn’t make sense. Daddy didn’t spend money frivolously.
“It’s hard to fire someone who I can’t even afford to pay. He’s dropped me.”
“I don’t trust it.”
“Neither do I, but I don’t have much of a choice. There’s too much to do before the sale next month.”
“Let me know if there’s anything I can do,” I said, kissing his forehead and my mother’s before leaving the kitchen. I went up to my bedroom in tears. I was going to miss this place. What was I going to do? I had to figure out what I could do to help. I had no real skills. Mostly, I cooked and cleaned for daddy’s hands, but if we lose the ranch, they’ll be out of work, too. My education was non-existent. Not liking school at all, I chose not to waste my parents’ money on college. Math was my enemy, and I had an attention span of a gnat. My brother teased me all the time reminding me that at least I was pretty. Yes, I was the stereotypical blonde. I wasn’t dumb, but school wasn’t user-friendly where I was concerned. The only subject I was good at was physical education. It helped that I grew up on a large farm and had been riding since I was a kid. I laid in my bed and thought about finding a job. Tomorrow, I’d go into town and see what was there.
I couldn’t believe there was a job available at the ranch next door. I was over there in a heartbeat, speaking with the owner of the ranch, Alex Sanchez.
“Ms. Davidson, I don’t understand why you need a job, but I will gladly welcome a cook in this house. Most of the men can’t cook worth a lick, but I would love something that is not charred or inedible.”
“I can cook whatever you like,” I replied with a smile. He gave me a strange look, taking my eagerness the wrong way.
“Ms. Davidson, I’m not interested in a wife.”
“And I’m not interested in you. I’m just excited. I’m sorry if it came off wrong.”
“No, it’s not that. I’ve just been around too many women looking for a way into my life permanently.”
“I get that, but I promise I’m only interested in the cooking job.”
“Okay, well do you want to do a test run?” he asked with a chuckle.
“Sure thing. What do you have and what do you want?”
“The men will be back in for lunch in an hour and it’s my job to get the meal ready this time. I was just going to go with sandwiches.”
“Okay, let me see what you have and I’ll fix something up.”
“Thanks, I’ll be in my office if you need anything.” He dipped his chin, giving me a nod before leaving me alone in his kitchen. I didn’t hesitate to raid their cupboards and pantry. There wasn’t much, but I had something in mind.
I heard the door open again. Perhaps he forgot something, but he hadn’t. It was someone else.
“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” he lecherously voiced, winking at me.
This job may not be so cozy after all. I grabbed the large knife from the kitchen block and pointed it into the cutting board on the island. “This is a kitchen and I’m the new cook,” I informed him with thinly masked annoyance.
“Calm down, princesa,” he said. “I’m Rico, Alex’s cousin. I thought he found him a girl. Feisty and beautiful, but since he hasn’t, well then…”
I put my hand up with the knife pointed in his direction. “I’m not interested in you, and I won’t hesitate to show you how serious I am about it.”
“Wow, okay, guera.” He turned to leave and I could have sworn I heard for now out of his mouth. I was going to have to watch out for him because nothing was going to stop me from helping my family.
2
Maxwell
“Here’s the file for the Davidson Ranch,” Andie said, dropping the file on my desk with a thud. Someone was a bit moody today. Wonder what was wrong with my normally nice assistant.
“What crawled up your ass and died?” I asked her. She’d been working for me for two years now, and I’d never seen her this off. Well, unless I was the one being a dick first.
“Nothing. I think this file stinks of something wrong,” she said, crossing her arms. The fact that it bothered her that much told me I needed to look into it. S
he had a great instinct about these things. I don’t know what I’d do if she found a husband and decided to live the domestic life.
“Really? My father mentioned this opportunity, but he didn’t give me any details. Anything I need to know?”
“There’s a letter from Mr. Davidson, hoping to meet the debt. The concerning thing is he believes it’s only half of what the company purchased the loan for.”
“Hmm. I’ll take a look at the file after my conference call.” She paused, waffling between speaking or leaving. “What’s on your mind, Andie?” I questioned.
“Nothing, Max. I’ve got a doctor’s appointment today,” she said.
“Is everything okay?” The look on her face screamed panic, but she straightened it back up.
“Yes, just a checkup.” She walked out of my office without another word. I thought about why she appeared to be on the verge of tears, but I let it go. It wasn’t my business and we weren’t that close. It wasn’t like I was close to anyone but my parents and my cousin, and he was my lawyer. Technically he had his own firm, but we were a big client. If there was a problem, I would have to talk to him. I didn’t want to buy it then spend months, even years, in litigation for it.
“I’m going to have to go down there,” I told Mitchell as I took a seat in the chair in front of his desk an hour after my conference call. I made my way to his office as soon as I got off the phone. I needed his opinion and his help.
“I wouldn’t. Then again, I don’t think you all should continue with the buyout, but that’s my two cents.” He twisted his lip, tapping his pen on his desk.
“I knew you’d say that, but if we don’t, someone else will.”
“Can’t you wait until I have time? I’ll be able to take some vacation time at the end of the week.”
“I need to deal with this by Thursday night. That’s when we have to make a decision, if not it goes back on the market and we lose the fees.”
“Traveling there is more than the fees. Are you feeling like you have to do good after what happened to you?” he asked. I thought about it. Last month, I’d been walking back to the office when a car ran a red light. If it wasn’t for the man next to me, I would have been road kill. He saved me and I couldn’t thank him enough. Since then, I’d been waiting for a moment to be a better man. I’d given plenty of money to charities over the years, but I never did anything for anyone personally. I didn’t have time. When you work seventy plus hours a week in the office then go home and work some more, it was hard to do anything for yourself. Forget doing something for someone else.
This was my moment to return the act of kindness. It was a huge undertaking, but I had plenty of time to take off, about four months’ worth of vacation stored up over the twelve years working on and off for my father. When I was in college, my time working for him was cut down to part time. I managed to get my degree in three years by taking the max load and summer school. Now, it was a matter of getting everything out of the office and packed by tonight.
3
Maxwell
I felt the car’s engine shut off and my speed drop, momentum the only thing pushing me along. I pulled to the side of the two-way, poorly paved road as the car coasted to a stop. Once it was there, I put it in park and watched the gas tank light come on. Taking out my phone, I pressed the number of the rental car place. It beeped that one annoying beep which meant trouble. I looked at the phone; there were no bars and the 4G symbol was missing.
“Damn it,” I snarled. Tossing the stupid device on the dash, I threw my head back against the headrest and blew out a harsh breath. The air in the car was no longer running and sunlight beamed into the car, stealing all the coolness that lingered in the vehicle.
I knew I was going to be in trouble if I didn’t get help. When I got down here, the temp at the airport said 99 and the high was going to be somewhere around 107. I could feel the sun burning my face. Sitting here, I had to weigh my options. Should I hoof it down the road like I would if I couldn’t catch a cab in the city or the traffic was too jammed; or should I stay put? I had to decide before there were no options left.
If I walked, maybe I could get some phone reception and call for help. The city had been at least thirty miles in the other direction, and the last I checked before the GPS crapped out, the Davidson Ranch was ten miles away. It seemed I didn’t really have much of a choice. It was walk or bake. I looked in the car for a bottle of water but it was empty and the damn coffee I bought was hot. If I made it out of this heat, I would switch to cold coffee from now on.
I hopped out of the car with my sunglasses on and my suit jacket off and tossed over my shoulder. I would have left it, but I knew they covered up in the desert to prevent burns. Locking up the car, I took only what I needed, my wallet and phone.
I was in the middle of who the fuck knew where, in some hick town in east Texas. One mishap after another left me stranded on a dirt road with no cell reception, marching to the nearest sign of life. This must be what hell felt like. Suddenly, the cold, slushy wintery mix in New York didn’t seem so damn bad. You’d think I was in the middle of the Sahara instead of central Texas. What possessed me to come here and handle this myself I asked myself, wiping a layer of sweat from my brow before it dripped into my eyes.
I held out my phone toward the sky, mentally willing it to find a signal, but I got nothing. How could anywhere in the good ol’ USA not have cell reception? This day and age, there should be a signal everywhere.
I felt the edge of my collar start to stick to my skin as I continued marching down the road with my suit jacket thrown over my shoulder. The heat was unbearable. Every ten feet felt like a mile in this weather. I didn’t know if the car was right before it broke down, but the temp said 110°F outside.
Between the heat and missing breeze, my throat seized up. How long was this road? I turned to see my rental, but it was out of sight now. I was going to be screwed if I didn't find some water soon. What possessed me to get a hot coffee in hell? It was like eating ice cream in Antarctica.
I knew exactly what I was going to do with this damn property once I got it all squared away. Not that I’d be back, but this place needed a pit stop. This was nuts. I was a strong, athletic man, but I could feel the heat winning the battle. My lips were chapped to the point I thought they would start bleeding. I had to be a mile away from the car now, or a guy could hope. There was nothing to the left or the right of me besides empty fields. Didn’t anyone work around here? Was that why they had no money to pay their loan? I looked ahead and spotted a large tree in the middle of nowhere. Taking off my sunglasses, I focused my gaze. The tree was lush and green. The shade was teasing me as I stared in that direction. I’d have to stop there and rest.
I stumbled across the road with the sun in my eyes, dropping my glasses. It was the loud blaring of horn that stopped me from taking one more damn step in the road. I heard the tires screech as the vehicle came to a stop ahead. I collapsed, falling to the side of the road into a bunch of gravel. Damn, that fucking hurt. I supposed it was better than getting plowed down by a truck. Their footsteps were hurried, but I could barely focus on them.
“Buddy, have you lost your fucking mind?” a man’s voice rang in my ears. “Billy, let’s help him up.” A grunt escaped one of them as they helped me up. “Can you walk?”
“Yeah, I’m sorry. The heat,” I muttered in my heat stroke state, standing with their assistance.
“Here, drink this.” He handed me a bottle of water with his brows scrunched together.
“My hero.”
“Relax, city boy. I don’t go that way.”
I let out a choked laugh. “Neither do I, but fucking hell, this sun is no joke.”
“No, it’s not. Come on, we’ll take you to our ranch. You can get some rest there. Maybe you can tell us why you’re roaming the backroads in a suit.”
“I…I…” My brain was still addled from the heat.
“Buddy, save it until you get your strength b
ack. You’re the size of one of my bulls and you’re barely standing.” He turned to his partner, a younger man in a flannel shirt. “I told ya. You need to stay hydrated in this shit. You kids think because you’re strong that you can pick a fight with the sun.”
The young one shook his head. “Dad, I know that. I just like busting your chops. Come on and let’s get suits to the house.”
“Okay.” They led me to a pick-up truck that had seen better days. It was about ten years past its expiration. The door creaked as they opened it and helped me in before the older man took the driver’s seat. The other man walked around and slipped into the passenger seat, leaving me sitting between them. It was more than a tight fit, but I wasn’t going to complain.
“You got a name, mister?” the old man asked with his eyes on the road in front of him.
“Maxwell,” I huffed out, my energy was too depleted for questions at the moment. I stared straight ahead in a trance as they drove down the road for what seemed like miles upon miles. If they hadn’t come around, I’d be dead. Despite its age, the air conditioning was still cranking in this rust bucket. They deserved a new truck for saving me, mentally making a note for myself later on. That would be the least I could do.
I lost track of time and direction as we pulled into a large ranch. It was starting to look dilapidated. The house could use a good paint job and the wood on the deck could stand to be stained. It had seen better days and I was going to help. The ranch was falling apart piece by piece. I could see the damage to the roof of the barn that was to the left of the main house. I may not be a farmer or a ranch hand, but I knew about property.
“Pops, when were you going to tell me the extent of our trouble? This is bullshit.” He slammed his hands on the dashboard, frustration getting the better of him. I leaned my head back against the seat; a headache was starting to build between my eyes and their potential argument wasn’t helping.