Troubled Water: Lone Star Love Book One

by Phelps, Victoria

  “I’m not sure I’m supposed to mix business with pleasure, but you’re fair to driving me crazy, woman.” Mike’s voice was choked. His hand slipped between her thighs, and he let his clever fingers invade her. “You’re soaked, baby. Let’s get this dress off.”

  Those same fingers worked at the buttons of her dress with less ease.

  “Let me.” Megan slipped her dress over her head and sat naked on his lap. He lowered his head to her breast and pulled her nipple into his mouth. She gasped and raised her chest for his attention. One hand held her back steady while the other slipped in and out of her dampness and his mouth sucked, licked and bit at her breasts.

  Mike lifted her and placed her on her stomach on the bed. “Stay like that, darlin’. You’re a might red for me to lay you on your back.”

  He jerked his shirt from his pants. He heard a button bounce off the floor as he yanked it off. He sat next to Megan on the bed and tugged off his boots. His pants were quick to follow. He rubbed his hands up and down her sides gently pressing on the bulge of her bosom.

  “I’m going to show you something new.” He lifted her bottom into the air and then pushed her shoulders onto the bed. Taking his place behind her he found her opening and thrust. Megan felt herself slip forward, but Michael took firm hold of her hips and set a rhythm that had her gripping the sheets and moaning his name. With a final shout, Michael sent his seed deep into her womb.

  Rising from the bed, he paused to pat her bottom. He returned with a cool cloth and laid it over her scarlet backside. “I won’t do that every time, so don’t get spoiled. And, just so you know, there will never be any pillows on the dining room chair. Understood?” He waited for an answer.

  Megan looked at him through half-lowered lids. “I understand.”

  “Good. Take a nap, sweetheart. You’re tired. I’ll wake you for supper.” Through a sleepy haze, she saw him close their door. Then the dark blessing of sleep claimed her.

  Chapter 8

  Mike

  “Before you mount, be sure to check the cinch one more time.” Mike watched as his wife checked the bit and pulled the reins over the horse’s head. “Horses are smart. Sometimes they take a deep breath and expand their chest when the cinch is being pulled. Then it’s too loose and the saddle will slip. So, double check.”

  “Did you try to trick me, Bunny?” Megan reached under her horse and jerked the cinch tighter. She turned a glowing face toward Michael.

  “Good job, darlin’.” He patted her bottom in appreciation and congratulations. His little bride had come a long way from fearing her horse to saddling and riding with confidence.

  With the rustlers on the loose and closing in, he wanted Megan to not only ride well, but be able to saddle her own horse. If he or one of the hands weren’t available, he wanted her to be able to flee to safety or go for help if needed. He frowned. The idea of his wife in peril made his heart lurch.

  “Are you ready for our ride?” Mike enquired.

  “I am. Bunny is saddled and ready.” Her face radiated pride.

  He hated to ask the next question. He was pretty sure of the answer. “Do you have your gun?”

  “My gun? Why ever do I need my gun to ride with my handsome husband?” Megan’s smile dazzled, dimple and all.

  “What is the rule?” That smile of hers had its usual effect on his lower parts, but he couldn’t let her know. Safety first.

  “Always take my gun when I leave the house,” she replied.

  “More than that. Until we find the rustlers, you are to have your gun within reach wherever you are. Go get it. Now.” He turned her towards the house and swatted her bottom for good measure. Megan scooted away.

  Mike pondered the rustlers as he waited for Megan’s return. They were a mystery. Most rustlers would have fled to other pastures by now. They had managed to sneak more than one hundred head of cattle off his ranch. If they were caught, it was a hanging offense.

  They should take the cattle and high tail it out of here. But, instead of leaving, they moved closer. It felt personal, invasive, and it made no sense. He shook his head and dug the tip of his boot into the dirt. He would keep his men armed, his women in the house, and be prepared for trouble.

  Megan returned with her pistol and tucked it into her saddlebag. “There. I’m ready.”

  Mike’s gentle laugh filled the air between them. “Let me fix your bonnet. Your hair will get in your face. You need to be able to see where you’re going.” He untied the ribbon beneath her chin and removed the garment. Replacing it, he tucked the wild curls into its confines and tied a new bow.

  “My hair is a struggle for certain sure. Maybe I should cut it.” She heaved a sigh and pulled at the riot of curls at her neck.

  Mike moved close, placed a hot kiss behind her ear and sent a moist whisper into her ear. “If you do, darlin’, I will blister your bottom good and proper.” He added a small swat to the area in question. “Hear me?”

  “I do.” Her vigorous nod had her bonnet wagging along.

  Mike threw his head back and laughed. “You are cute as a bug.”

  “I am not a bug.” Megan’s chin flew to defiant heights.

  “Don’t argue with me.” Mike gave her a quick embrace before lifting her into her saddle. “We’ll ride to the river. With the rustlers on the loose, I don’t want to take you too far from the house.”

  Watching Megan ride was pure pleasure. The sway of her back. The flare of her hair waving like a flag down her back. Her little bottom bouncing up and down when Bunny moved from a walk to a trot. He was mighty proud of her. Maybe he’d teach her to jump next. Just over a small log. Well, maybe he wouldn’t. The thought of her falling sent rivulets of sweat racing down his back.

  “Pull up just ahead, Megan.”

  He lifted her from her horse, sliding her slowly down the front of his body. Lord have mercy, he was always hard for her.

  “Lupe sent a snack.” Mike pulled a small bundle from his saddlebag. “Let’s rest a spell and enjoy it.” The morning was already warm. In a few hours, the range would be a god-almighty oven.

  Mike had Megan help him look for snakes before spreading a blanket on the river bank. He held out a hand and helped her sit before sharing the bread and cheese.

  “Are we going to practice with the gun?” Megan turned her pale eyes up to his face.

  “No. I don’t know where the rustlers are, and I don’t want them to know where we are.” Mike shook his head. “I thought I might teach you something else.” His eyes glittered with mischievous lust.

  “What?”

  “It’s why I asked you to wear a regular dress.” He grinned. “All you have to do is gather that dress up and come sit on my lap.” He lifted her over his legs and set her down facing him.

  He ran his hand over her bottom and found the split in her drawers. Eager fingers sought her channel and then her special nub. He worked them both until she squirmed with pleasure and groaned her delight. Reaching under her, he set himself free and lowered her onto his waiting shaft.

  He held her bottom close as he plunged into her warmth. Megan threw her arms around his shoulders and buried her face in his neck. Together they progressed from a gentle joining to a frantic race for a finish.

  “Oh, Michael.” Megan clung to him while the last tremors of her climax shuddered to a close. “You are a splendid teacher.”

  Patting her bottom, he held her close for another minute. “And you are a fine pupil, darlin’. I couldn’t ask for better.” He paused. “I’m happy you came to Texas. I’m mighty happy you’re my wife. I know we had an unusual start, but I’m glad you’re here. I’m glad you’re mine. I just wanted you to know.”

  “Thank you, Michael. I’m happy I’m yours, too.” She blushed a pretty pink.

  “We need to get back before we fry.” He lifted her from his lap, adjusted his pants, and rose to his feet. Turning back, he offered his hand to his wife.

  They rode side-by-side back to the ranch, ho
lding hands most of the way.

  “Go on in the house, darlin’.” Mike gave his bride a smile to melt icebergs. “I’ll take care of the horses.”

  “But I can do it, Michael. Honest, I can,” Megan protested.

  “I know you can which is why you don’t have to.” He pulled her in for a swift hug. “Let me spoil you. Go on in the house.”

  “Thank you, Michael. I enjoyed our time at the river.” Again, the blush. He loved it.

  “Oh, I did too. Don’t you doubt it, sweetheart. I did too.” He watched her little bottom sway to and fro as she left the barn. He missed her company, but he sure did like to watch her go.

  Rubbing down Bunny, Mike was lost in thought. Megan brought a whole world of warmth and happiness to his world. Why, it was fun just to see what she was up to every day, and tell her about his day in return. Lupe had been right. He had needed a wife. Not just a wife. He needed Megan.

  He patted the little horse before leading her into her stall. “What do you think, Bunny? I know you love her, and I think maybe I do too. Life would sure be empty—”

  The sound of gunfire, jolting and jarring, brought his attention out of the clouds and into the world with a clang and a crash. Manuel and the hired hands had headed for the southern range this morning. He flung himself into his saddle and with a kick brought his horse to a gallop and flew from the yard.

  Lord have mercy. He’d been lollygagging around. He’d taken his pleasure with Megan down by the river while Manuel and the boys were working and taking care of his ranch. Now, from the sound of things, they were in danger. He sped south.

  The silence that followed the spate of gunfire was unnerving. What, in the name of God, had happened to his men? He urged his horse for more speed and continued south. Three shots split the hot Texas afternoon air—the call for help. He adjusted his path toward the sound. He wanted to ask Chester for more speed, but he knew the horse had reached his limit.

  He squinted against the sun and dust. In the distance, horses and men milled about. He pulled his horse to a stop and jumped to the ground.

  “What happened?” Two men lay bleeding on the ground. The other three knelt on the ground offering water and tearing strips of cloth from their shirts to bandage wounds.

  Manuel looked up. “Jefe, we ran plumb into the rustlers. They were moving some of your cattle away from the herd.”

  “Jeff,” he motioned at one of the man bleeding on the ground, “he yells at them to stop and pulls his gun. Well, all hell breaks loose then. The rustlers draw their guns and bullets are flying until one of them gets hit and falls off his horse.” Manuel paused to drink deep from a canteen. “Another one jumps off his horse, throws the injured one over his saddle, jumps back on, and they all vamoose. Just like that, gone. Jeff and Hiram were shot. Jeff was shot in the leg and Hiram in the shoulder. We need the doc.”

  “Joe, ride for the doc. Moses, go to the ranch and get the buckboard.” Mike issued orders through gritted teeth. “We’ll wait here until we can load the injured men onto the wagon.” He looked down at Jeff. The tourniquet had slowed his loss of blood, but his face glowed white.

  “Damn it, Jeff. I told you all not to get in a shoot-out over cattle.” Mike slapped his hat against his leg.

  “I know, jefe. But there they were, rustling, in the middle of the day. It got my dander up. We’ve all been nervous as cats in a room full of rocking chairs wondering where those bastards were. Then, we had them.” He grimaced and clutched at his bloody leg. “Sorry, Mike. It seemed too good to pass up.”

  Mike knelt down to check on the man’s wound. “I know. I know. I’d probably have done the same. I just hate to see anyone hurt. Thank God no one was killed.” He paused. “How many were there?”

  “Four, and there were five of us. Seemed like good odds.” Jeff shrugged. “One of them is hurt.”

  “Did anyone see which way they rode?” He gazed across the empty range.

  “They rode north, but they could be anywhere by now,” Manuel replied.

  “Set up a little shade to keep the men out of the sun. Then we wait for the buckboard.” Mike sank to the ground and watched as his instructions were followed.

  His mind dragged the situation this way and that. He could talk to Sheriff Ford again. But would it be of any use? The sheriff was only one man. The Circle M was the largest ranch around. If he couldn’t keep rustlers off his own land, neither could the sheriff. His mind circled back to the nagging question. Why hadn’t the rustlers moved on? That’s what they do. Hit a ranch and move before getting caught. These bastards hit and hit and hit. Didn’t they realize that sooner or later they would be caught? It had almost happened today.

  Now here he sat with two injured cowboys. He breathed a little sigh of relief. At least Megan was safe at the ranch.

  The crunch of wagon wheels rolling over hard dirt brought Mike out of his heat induced lethargy.

  “Load the injured men in the buckboard and tie their horses to the back,” Mike said. “We’ll all ride back together.” The men nodded. They understood safety in numbers.

  A whirl of dirt materialized into Joe and the doctor. The wagon ground to a stop while the doctor jumped from his horse and climbed into the rear of the buckboard. The men waited in tense silence as he removed bandages to reveal the wounds.

  “You boys did a good job. Jeff would have lost more blood without that tourniquet.” He nodded at the bloody leg. The doctor focused his attention on Mike. “The bullet went clean through Hiram’s shoulder. I’ll need to clean and dress it. He’ll need a sling for two or three weeks, but he’ll be fine. The bullet is still in Joe’s leg. Back at the ranch, I’ll remove it. He’ll be laid up for a month or so. Keep a close watch for infection in both men. Redness, swelling, fever, things like that.”

  “They were injured on my land and protecting my stock, doc.” Mike nodded at the injured men. “Whatever needs to be done, we’ll do it.”

  “That’s mighty good of you, Mike. Some bosses just turn a man out when they ain’t no good to work any longer.” The cowboys nodded in agreement.

  “Well, not here.” Mike turned to Joe. “Did you stop by the ranch?”

  “Was I supposed to?” Joe lifted his shoulders high. “I wanted to get the doc here as fast as I could.”

  “I just wondered is all.” Mike looked across the range toward the house. “The women should be fine. They are in the house and were told to keep their guns within reach. You did fine. Let’s move.”

  The men took positions on both sides of the buckboard. Grass could grow faster than the pace they set, but doc didn’t want the injured men bounced around too much. They crept, crept, crept across the range while the sun beat on their backs like the flames of hell. Mike drummed his fingers on his thigh and held his horse to a slow torturous walk. He was sure the women were safe, but he wanted to hold his little Irish bride in his arms. At long last, they entered the yard.

  “Take the buckboard to the barn,” the doc said. “I want to get these men out of the sun.” He looked over at Mike. “Where do you want me to operate? The house or the bunkhouse?”

  Jeff’s voice floated from the back of the buckboard. “For Christ’s sake, take me to the bunkhouse. I don’t want to put Mrs. Megan to no trouble.” A big groan followed his little speech. With gritted teeth, he lowered his head.

  “Megan wouldn’t mind, but if you’d rather be in the bunkhouse, we’ll take you there.” He motioned at the hands. “Carry them to the bunkhouse and do whatever doc says. Then take care of the horses. I’ll be out soon.” He shot Manuel a quick look. “I’m going to the house to check on our women.” Manuel nodded his relief.

  It had been one hell of a day. Mike was bone-deep tired and worried. Rustling had been bad enough, but now men had been shot—shot over his cattle. The very idea burned a hole in his stomach. When he caught those rustlers, by God, they’d be sorry they were ever—

  A blast from a gun ripped through the late afternoon peace. The bullet h
it the dirt next to his boot, and a whirlwind of dust exploded by Mike’s foot.

  “God almighty,” Mike sputtered as he jumped to the side. “What the hell?” Someone was shooting at him from his house.

  “Stay right there, Manning.” A man’s voice shouted through a crack in the door. “My brother’s shot. We need the doctor.”

  “Is my wife in there with you?” Mike tried to keep desperation out of his voice.

  “Yes.”

  Mike heard him speak to someone in the room behind him. “If you lay a hand on her, you’re a dead man.” Mike’s voice was low but carried across the distance.

  “We don’t aim to hurt her or the other one.” He paused. “Send the doc.”

  “First, let me talk to Megan. I ain’t doing a thing until I hear her voice.” He waited without moving, but his heart was fit to burst right out of his body. Beat so hard it hurt. A scuffling sound came from the house.

  “Michael, Michael, we’re fine. I think you should come inside and talk to these men. Maybe you can figure something out.” Her lovely brogue soothed him like a sip of whiskey after a day eating dirt.

  “Figure something out? With the rustlers?” He couldn’t keep surprise from his voice. Of all the things he expected—tears, fear, even anger—he hadn’t expected that.

  “Well, love, there’s always two sides, you know.” Another scuffle occurred behind the door.

  “Where’s the doc?” The deep voice resumed control of the conversation.

  “Well, you shot two of my men.” He was seething with fury. “Doc is seeing to them.” He turned back to the barn. “Doc, are you willing to see this sidewinder?”

  “Of course. It’s what I do. I don’t only treat people I like.” Doc moved out into the open and yelled at the house. “I need an hour for these men. Can you wait that long?”

  Mike heard voices behind the door. “One hour. No more.”

  “I want to come in,” Mike shouted. He needed to see Megan with his own eyes. Possessive, crazy, he had to see her, hold her, touch her.

  “Drop your gun,” the voice demanded.