Sweet Cherry Ray

by McClure, Marcia Lynn

  “It’s a very interestin’ story,” he chuckled. “I guess we better fetch that book so the little girl can hear the end of it one day.”

  Cherry shook her head. “I ain’t goin’ in there with ol’ Snort. I’ll just see if Mr. Hirsch can order another one.”

  “I wasn’t plannin’ on you goin’ in there,” Lobo said. He smiled and sauntered toward the fence.

  “Oh, no! You can’t!” she exclaimed, taking hold of his arm. He stopped walking and looked at her. His eyes were so warm and brown—so mesmerizing!

  “Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll be quick.”

  “No! You don’t understand. He’s meaner than the devil! He horned one of Pa’s hired hands just the other day—nearly killed him!”

  Lobo looked at Snort—eyes narrowing. “Run on over there,” he said, pointing to a small tree down the fence line a ways. “See if he’ll wander over to ya.”

  “I don’t need the book.” Her heart had begun to hammer with fear once more. She’d seen what Snort had done to Adam Cunningham, and she wouldn’t watch him do the same to Lobo.

  “Well, I do,” he said. “How do you expect me to sleep tonight if I don’t know if Lawless Sue shot Jenny or not?”

  Cherry smiled. He could fetch the book without getting hurt—she was sure of it. At that moment, Cherry Ray was sure Lobo McCoy could do anything he put his mind to.

  “Okay,” she said. She released his arm and turned. “Snort!” she shouted. “Hey there, ol’ Snort!” Yanking on a length of barbed wire stretched between two nearby fence posts, she smiled as the ornery old bull looked at her.

  Reaching down, she picked up an old twig, tossing it over the fence at the bull. Snort took two steps toward her, and she started running along the fence line, away from Lobo and toward the tree.

  “You old ugly thing!” Cherry shouted. “Come on! Come on over and just try to get me!”

  Looking as if it had entirely understood the insult she’d hollered, the big Texas longhorn bull started toward her. She paused and picked up another stick. Tossing it over the fence, she hit the bull square between the eyes.

  “Oh, he’s mad now!” she called to Lobo.

  As the angry bull started a run at Cherry, Lobo hopped the fence and raced toward the book lying in the freshly grazed grass.

  Cherry gasped as Snort slid to a stop and turned. Eyeing Lobo, the bull swung his head from side to side. The broad expanse of the animal’s horns was menacing, and the power of the animal wielding them was even more threatening.

  “Snort!” Cherry shouted. “Hey there, old Snort!”

  But it was no use. The bull’s attention was full upon the man invading its territory.

  “Lobo!” she cried. “Hurry! Please hurry!”

  She could only watch, frozen with fear, as Lobo snatched up the book. Snort grunted low in his throat, pawed the ground with one hoof, and charged Lobo.

  “Oh, sh—shoot!” Cherry heard Lobo exclaim as he turned and raced back toward the fence.

  “Run! Run! Run!” she hollered as she watched Lobo sprint for the fence and safety. Snort was fast, however—not to mention furious! Cherry held her breath as the bull gained on Lobo. Certain she was about to see the man of her dreams impaled by her pa’s prize bull, Cherry screamed as Lobo leapt, clearing the fence. Snort pulled up, snorting and swinging his head from side to side. One moment more and the animal would’ve had him.

  “Don’t you ever do somethin’ like that again!” she scolded, stomping toward him. “You scared the life outta me!”

  Lobo laughed and looked to the seat of his pants. “Now ya know how I feel every dang time I catch you ’bout to step in somethin’,” he said, inspecting the long tear in the seat of his britches. “Looks like the fence caught me there.”

  “Yer lucky Snort didn’t catch you or you’d be speared like a roasted hog.” Leaning over, Cherry looked at the tear in Lobo’s britches. “No blood,” she said. “So I guess yer all right.”

  She startled when Lobo’s hand suddenly covered the torn place on the seat of his britches. “Don’t go lookin’ there,” he grumbled. “You’ll see my drawers.”

  Cherry blushed, realizing she had been too forward. Still, she didn’t want him to know she was embarrassed, so she said, “I’ve seen my pa’s drawers plenty a times. I even helped when Adam Cunningham got speared in the hind end the other day.”

  “That’s different,” Lobo mumbled, frowning at her.

  She fancied his cheeks were a little pink but couldn’t decide if he were blushing or if they were pinked from outrunning Snort.

  “Thank you for fetchin’ my book,” she said. “Even if yer a fool for doin’ it.”

  “Well, I wanna hear what happens,” he said, his hand still covering the tear in the seat of his britches.

  “So yer wantin’ to borrow it then?” she asked as Lobo handed the book to her.

  “Naw,” he said. “I don’t have time for readin’ such things. I figure I’ll just behave like Cherry Ray does and spy on her the next time she’s readin’ to them kids.”

  Cherry smiled as realization hit her then. He’d been spying on her! Just the way she’d spied on him. Yep! He’d seen her out with the Parker children, followed her, and then sat spying on her while she read to them.

  “I could read a bit right now if you’d like,” she ventured.

  It was bold—too bold, she knew. Still, she couldn’t help herself. The hope of spending even one more minute in the company of Lobo McCoy had loosened the hinges on her tongue.

  He grinned. His eyes narrowed as he looked at her. “All righty,” he said. “But not where this ol’ boy can see us. I think he’s still eyein’ up my hind end.”

  “Are ya hungry?”

  “Why? You plannin’ on feedin’ me that book instead of readin’ it?”

  Cherry giggled. “No. There’s a cherry tree not too far from here,” she explained. “I figure I can read, and you can have yerself a little bite to eat.”

  His smile broadened, and she fancied there was a little too much mischief in his eyes. “Is it a sour cherry tree?” he asked. “Ya know…for makin’ pies?”

  “No,” she said, shaking her head. “Sweet cherries—sweeter than anythin’ you’ll have all summer long.”

  “Sweeter than anythin’, huh?” he chuckled.

  “Yep.”

  “Then lead me on. Lead me on.”

  Cherry smiled and started toward the cherry tree. She loved the cherry tree her mother had planted when her pa had first bought the ranch. In the summer, Cherry loved to pick a few cherries from her mother’s tree, stretch out on the soft grass beneath, and just dream the hours away. She’d never shared the tree with anyone before—not even the Parker children. It was her special place of serenity and quiet. Yet she wanted to take Lobo there—to sit beneath her mother’s tree and feed him some of the delicious fruit of it.

  Cherry glanced over to see Lobo studying the back of his hands as they walked.

  “My knuckles are already sore,” he said. “Guess it’s been longer than I thought since they was used in a fight.”

  “Thank you for helpin’ us,” Cherry said.

  All at once, she was greatly humbled once more. She and the Parker children had been in serious danger—she knew they had. She didn’t want to think on what might have happened if Lobo hadn’t been nearby. “And thank you for fetchin’ my book. Old Snort wouldn’t enjoy it nearly as much as me.”

  Lobo chuckled and stretched his fingers as he walked. His hands hurt something awful! The red-haired Baxter boys had skulls as solid as rocks. He resisted the urge to remind Cherry of his warnings of the past—of what bad fellers might do to a woman. She’d learned her lesson. He could tell by the sound of her voice as she’d thanked him, by the look that had been on her face when she’d seen him step up behind the Baxter boys. Still, fury rose in him as the vision of the red-haired bully holding Cherry by the throat pushed itself to the front of his mind. He’d wanted to draw h
is Colt and shoot the fool! Yet it had felt good to hit him.

  He grinned at Cherry as she pointed to a lone cherry tree standing near several apple trees just up ahead. He shouldn’t be there with her—he knew it. It wasn’t safe for her—or for him, for that matter. But as he looked at the soft sway of her hips as she ran ahead of him, the way her hair cascaded over her shoulders—what man could resist sitting under a cherry tree with such a girl? Especially a man as haunted as he was, one who’d be moving on soon, one way or the other. He thought of the talk he’d had with Arthur Ray—about Arthur’s implication that a man could change his life by choosing to ride a different trail. Lobo had already chosen a trail to ride. But in that moment, he wandered off the trail he was destined to follow and onto one that led to a secluded cherry tree and a pretty girl. It was just a short rest—a slight mosey off the trail he knew he still had to follow. Still—resting alongside the trail awhile—surely it wouldn’t kill him.

  Chapter Nine

  “Jenny reached down and tore a length of cloth from her petticoat,” Cherry read.

  She quickly wrapped it around her arm and tied it tight. She’d need to get to town and have the doc dig that bullet out. But first she’d find Sheriff Tate and tell him what Lawless Sue had done. Jenny knew Sheriff Tate would ride out after Sue as quick as his pony would carry him. Fact was Jenny suspected he wouldn’t even take the time to raise a posse. He’d be plum loco when he found out Sue had shot at Jenny. Even more plum loco when he saw Sue had hit her, and it wouldn’t do to let the likes of Lawless Sue roam free. The law was the law…even in Oklahoma. Fact was Jenny felt as bad for the Cherokee on the reservation as Sue did. But that didn’t mean a body could just ride around shootin’ whatever moved. Somebody had to stop Sue…and Jenny knew Sheriff Tate would be that somebody.

  “I think yer sweet on Sheriff Tate,” Lobo said, spitting a cherry pit into the grass.

  “What?”

  “I think yer sweet on—”

  “I heard what ya said,” Cherry giggled. “And that’s the silliest thing I ever heard.”

  “No it ain’t.”

  “And why would I be sweet on Sheriff Tate?”

  Cherry smiled, delighted by being near him. The sun was low in the sky, and she knew Mrs. Blakely would have supper on by now. Still, there wasn’t a thing in the world that could’ve pulled her away from that moment—from sitting under her mother’s cherry tree eating cherries with Lobo McCoy.

  “I think you like lawmen,” he said.

  “What?” she squealed.

  “Well, there’s yer pa for one…and Sheriff Tate fer another,” he said. “Seems you like a man who fights fer good.”

  “Well, what’s wrong with that?” She was blushing—she could feel the rosy red of her cheeks. He’d guessed it! Cherry had always admired men who upheld the law. Sure, it most likely started with the fact her pa was one—a great lawman to be admired. Still, what was wrong with admiring lawmen? Nothing! But how had he guessed it?

  “Nothin’ at all wrong with it,” he said. “Just don’t give us regular fellers much hope, now does it.”

  “Well, the way I figure…you fight for good too,” Cherry ventured.

  She wondered if his kiss would taste like cherries now. If she kissed him at that very moment, would his kiss be warm and sweet like the cherries he held in his hand?

  He chuckled and asked, “Is that so? How do ya figure?”

  “Yer always haulin’ me off to my pa, makin’ sure he’s raisin’ me right, savin’ my neck when outlaws catch me spyin’ through saloon windows,” she said. “Even bruisin’ yer knuckles on bullies and runnin’ from mean old bulls on my account.”

  Lobo laughed and spit another cherry seed into the grass. “Well, when ya paint me that way…I come out lookin’ mighty fine,” he said.

  “I think ya always look mighty fine.” She blushed again, astounded by her own straightforwardness.

  “Do ya now?” he asked, his eyes narrowing as he looked at her.

  Suddenly, she felt herself coward down. She’d revealed too much to him. “Though ya do need a bit more practice at spittin’ cherry pits,” she said. She set her book aside, tossed a cherry up in the air and easily caught it in her mouth. Pulling the stem out of her mouth, she flicked it at Lobo as she tore the fruit away from the pit with her teeth. When she’d swallowed the sweet part, she spit the pit high in the air—watching as it arched and fell to the ground some ways away.

  “See there?” she asked. “Now let’s see ya beat that!”

  Lobo tore the stem off one of the cherries in his hand, and put the cherry in his mouth. In a moment, he spit the pit high into the air, but not as high as Cherry had. The pit didn’t fly as far, and Cherry giggled.

  “Looks like I need more practice at pit spittin’.”

  Cherry giggled. “Well, we all need more practice at somethin’…now don’t we?”

  “Like what?”

  Cherry shrugged. “Like not gettin’ caught when we’re spyin’ on handsome strangers.” She smiled at him—momentarily mesmerized by his attractive manner and appearance. Her heart began to beat a bit faster, and she felt overly warm all of a sudden.

  “You think I’m handsome?”

  Cherry blushed. “I wouldn’t be spyin’ on ya as often as I do if ya weren’t,” she admitted.

  “What else do ya need practice at?” he asked, attempting to spit another pit the distance Cherry had.

  Cherry looked away from him for a moment—a sudden feeling of discouragement washing over her. “Lookin’ like a woman instead of a man, I guess,” she said.

  “Naw. You got that one licked.”

  “Really?”

  Oh, how desperately she wanted him to see her as a woman! She felt ridiculous sitting there with him—dressed in britches and one of her pa’s old shirts. Oh, how she wished she were wearing the pink dress she’d worn the day he’d kissed her out near the old fence posts. Maybe then she could tempt him—somehow tease him into kissing her once more.

  Lobo chuckled. “What?” he asked. “Ain’t you got a mirror?” He winked at her as he stood up, putting another cherry in his mouth.

  “Lobo?” she asked, standing as well and watching as he spit another pit high into the air.

  “Yeah?”

  “Why—why do you spend time with me?” The question was out of her mouth before she could think better of asking it.

  “Well, I do wonder what ya did…how ya kept outta trouble before I rode into town,” he said.

  “So yer just keepin’ me outta trouble?” she asked. She felt her heart sink to the bottom of her stomach.

  He looked at her and smiled. “Way I see it…I gotcha into more trouble than I ever gotcha out of.”

  “How do ya figure that?”

  He moved closer to her, and her heart began to pound with a wonderful type of excitement.

  “Well,” he began, “take this cherry here.” He held a cherry between his thumb and forefinger—held it in front of her face for her to look at. “It’s an unusual cherry—different than the others I been eatin’.”

  “It’s just a cherry. How’s it different from the others?”

  “Well, if ya taste it, you’ll see what I mean.”

  Cherry giggled, tried to ignore the goose bumps breaking over her arms, the butterflies taking flight in her stomach as he pressed the cherry to her lips.

  “Go on,” he mumbled. “Taste it.”

  Lobo gently pushed the cherry into Cherry’s mouth as her lips parted. Chewing the fruit she’d pulled away from the pit with her teeth, she said, “It doesn’t taste any different to me.”

  “Is that so?” he asked a moment before his mouth crushed to her own.

  Cherry gasped, elated by the feel of his warm, demanding kiss! A moment later, he chuckled, broke the seal of their lips, and turned his head to spit out the cherry pit he’d retrieved from Cherry’s mouth during their kiss.

  “Now you tell me,” he mumbled, gathering her i
nto his arms, “you tell me, Sweet Cherry Ray, ain’t that the best cherry ya ever did taste?”

  Cherry felt her knees give way—heard Lobo chuckle as he steadied her in his embrace. “Sweet Cherry Ray,” he breathed as his gaze lingered on her face—her eyes—her mouth. He raised one hand to her face, caressing her lips with the tips of his fingers.

  “In all my life, I never heard a name fit a girl any better,” he said. His eyes were warm, inviting, and filled with mischief.

  “Wh-who told you my name was Sweet Cherry?” she asked, breathless and weak in his arms.

  Ignoring her question, Lobo simply smiled and mumbled, “Mmm mmmm! Nothin’ like the taste of a pretty Sweet Cherry on a summer’s day.”

  Lobo McCoy kissed her then—kissed Cherry Ray until she wasn’t sure whether she was awake or dreaming! Moist, heated, and lingering were the kisses he rained on her. The way he held her in his arms—powerful, demanding, and protective—his slightest touch was breathtaking! His kiss, his caress, the feel of his jaw working to weave a spell of pleasure and enchantment around her—she was lost to him! She was lost to his every will and whim! Wrapped in the bliss of being owned by him—heart, mind, body, and soul—Cherry feared she might not have the strength to leave him—ever!

  She felt tears welling in her eyes as she realized in those moments, she was in love—hopelessly in love—with a man she knew nothing about! Cherry’s heart beat frantic in her bosom—she felt her body trembling as the knowledge rinsed over her. Yes! Yes, she’d known almost at once that she’d wanted Lobo McCoy, wanted his heart, to own him and be owned by him. Yet it was only in those moments, as his mouth demanded hers return his driven and delicious kisses—it was only in those moments that Cherry Ray realized how truly in danger she was.

  Lobo broke their kiss abruptly. Pulling her against his body, he whispered in her ear, “I ain’t for you, Cherry. I ain’t the kind of man you need. This is all I can ever give ya…a little sparkin’ out under a tree, or—”

  “I-I don’t care,” Cherry interrupted. “I don’t care. I know I’m not what a man like you wants in a woman. I know I could never be…but I don’t care! Yer the only thing in this world that has ever made me feel so completely happy and alive. Even if it’s for just this minute…I’d rather have you for one minute than not at all!”