He whirled and walked to her, rage and adrenaline pushing him. He gripped her shoulders though she raised her hands to defend herself and shoved her gently onto the couch. “Shut up. Just listen, would you? You hear my side of it and make your own judgment. Deal?"
She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back in the couch cushions. “Waiting."
He paced across the den in front of her for a few minutes. When he was ready, he stopped by the window. He couldn't look at her. The rage, shame, pain and fear were twisting into one, big slimy rope within him. He didn't want to go back, and he knew it'd cost him to explain it. But she had a right to know.
"It was hot that summer,” he said, starting in the easiest place. “Not a breeze on the Range. The drought was vicious, like a curse from God. I'd been riding the fences alone all day. It was about mid afternoon. I went into the woods and stopped by the little creek there. I smelled the smoke first. Everyone gets a warning when someone's going to burn a field or start a bonfire. I hadn't heard about anything so I followed it. I started to see the smoke billowing up above the trees on the far side of the woods. I rode like hell that way because a part of me knew. I just knew it was Jim's cabin."
She didn't ask how or look doubtful. Relieved, he went on with his explanation. “I came out the woods and saw that bigoted son of a bitch throwing branches on the porch. He'd rolled them up in towels, soaked them in kerosene and lit them on fire. I could smell it. I could already hear the screams. He'd boarded up the windows and doors, after he broke in and tied them up. I could hear them inside, yelling for help, just as Willie was about to throw the last branch on the roof.
"I couldn't have reached him in time to stop him. So I pulled out my rifle, aimed and fired. He fell before he could throw it. I rode at him as fast as I could. He was crawling for his gun. I picked it up and knocked him back with it, threw it out of reach, told him I'd shoot him again if he moved. I ran up on the porch. It was already groaning, sagging. The flames were starting up the walls, crawling up the porch rails onto the roof. I did my best to get the board off. He'd nailed it on there. I went around back, but the fire was worse there. That's where he started it. He made sure all the exits were blocked off."
He ran a hand through his hair because the helplessness was back as well as the panic and dread. He could almost feel the sobs racking at his throat. There hadn't been another house near. He couldn't have ridden for help. He hadn't had a phone or radio. “I tried to tear the board off the door, but the blaze was on the roof by then and starting to eat at the porch railings. My arms got burned pretty bad when I tried to go through a window. I couldn't do anything, Stella. I couldn't help them. I couldn't get them out. I just stood there and listened to them scream. It went up quick, one big fireball. I prayed someone would see the smoke though I knew it'd be too late. Something inside ignited and exploded. I didn't hear them after that."
He lifted his eyes to her stricken face. “If there'd been a way, I would've saved them. There just wasn't."
"That's why you can't sleep,” she realized.
"I can still hear them screaming. I can still hear Willie laughing. I didn't help him. I won't deny that I stood over him and watched him die, Stella, and I'm not going to apologize for it. No one in this town blamed me. Your own father got me the best lawyer he could find. It went to trial and the judge sent me to jail, but he softened the sentence because he knew he would've done the same thing. You would've done the same thing."
She nodded, eyes filling with tears again. “I'm so sorry, Judd. I'm so sorry you couldn't save them."
He turned away because tears stung the backs of his eyes. “Feel free to walk away now if you need to. As long as you know the whole story, I won't blame you for it."
Her hand gripped his. Though he resisted when she began to tug him around, she didn't relent so he faced her, forcing himself to look her in the eye.
She shook her head. “I'm not going to walk away.” Her arms slid around his waist. “Hold me. Please."
He wrapped her close, pulling her against him so hard he doubted she could breathe. For a moment, he needed her that close, a reassurance that she was here, that she was staying, that he could still see her, feel her, smell her. Just for once, he wanted some comfort.
She was more than enough.
Tipping her head back, she smiled at him. “How ‘bout I cook?"
He lowered his lips to graze the curved line of hers, lingering over the scar at the corner. “Stay the night again."
Her smile turned sly, eyes warming. “I plan on it."
* * * *
Stella found his secret stash after dinner while he was washing the dishes and she was searching for a movie. “Lookie here,” she called over her shoulder, heart dancing in delight when she saw just about every title she'd ever starred in. She heard him come in. “Looks like I've found your hiding place."
He looked like a kid caught in the cookie jar. “That isn't what it looks like."
She held up the case for the indie flick. “Really?"
He eyed it like a traitor. “So what? I'm a fan."
"A very naughty fan, by the looks of it,” she guessed. She pulled the case open and went to the DVD player.
"What are you doing?” he asked.
She lifted an innocent shoulder, feeling far from it. “I can't watch my own movie?"
The expression on his face told her he knew what she was up to. “Hurry up in there,” she told him. “And bring the whiskey."
"This was during my rebellious stage,” she told him when they were snuggled on the couch. “I think there's a point in every girl's life when she just wants to take her cloths off for everyone."
He raised a brow and sent her a sideways look. “People here still talk about it."
She made a face. “Won't that make fun church chatter?"
He chuckled. She laid her head on his chest so she could hear his heart. The scene was coming up. “I slept with him,” she admitted when the camera switched to the hero's close up. She could feel him tense and smiled, satisfied. “We were on again, off again for a while there. ‘Course, he was no Josie Brusky."
He cleared his throat. “So you found out about that, too, huh?"
"Keefe mentioned it."
"I bet he did,” he groaned.
"So?” she asked after a moment of silence.
"So?” he countered.
She raised her head up on her elbow, cupping her chin in her palm. “So tell me. No more secrets between us."
He shifted uncomfortably. “We never had a relationship, just an understanding. Two outcasts just trying to find something other than hostility in this town. It started in high school, right after she and Casey..."
Stella raised a brow. “You knew he had a thing for her?"
"No,” he replied. “I thought he was over her. He never said a word. It wasn't until a few years back that I realized how much it was hurting him. That was the end of me sleeping with Josie."
She nodded. “He never tells anyone when he's hurting. We've set that straight now, haven't we? Now ask me anything."
"Why are we watching this?"
"Because I like torturing you,” she murmured. She lowered her head to his chest. “Ooh, look. It's coming up."
She could feel his pulse speed up, his breath turn ragged. She'd meant to tease him and instead found her effect on him endearing. Her heart tugged and melted. As the love scene heated up, she looked up at him. “Just think,” she whispered. “From now on, you can watch this and think ‘I tapped that'."
A wide grin broke across his face. She lowered her mouth to his, heart beating an insistent rap against his and kissed him deeply, thoroughly. His tongue rubbed hers then retreated. Hers sought his, needing the deep, intimate touch.
She sat up, suddenly hungry for him, ravenous. She stripped off her shirt, unhooked her bra then lowered to him to drink from his mouth again as his hands cupped her exposed curves possessively. He shifted around on the couch until he was
on top of her, careful not to send them both over the edge and onto Elwood who snored on the floor.
Her character moaned onscreen as his teeth tugged her nipple and she wrapped her legs around him, already hot. Thighs squeezed tight around his waist, she pressed her arousal to his. It took seemingly forever to peel away their jeans. Her hands all but ripped at his shirt to get to his skin, to run her hands over the cords of muscles underneath. When he moved into her, she let her head fall back, her eyes roll and ascended into absolute bliss.
The couch was slick with their perspiration by the time they were done. He lay with his brow pressed to hers for a moment, fighting to even his breathing. Completely limp and exhausted beneath him, she smiled lazily when his lips touched the tip of her nose.
The smile faded quickly as his lips found the scar by her eye. The tender press made her tremble. Tears filled her eyes as they moved over the mark she resented so much at times.
Wounds opened up, trusting him to heal them. In that instant, when he lingered over the scar on her mouth, she knew she'd silently, irrevocably handed over her heart. Stunned by the knowledge, humbled by the quickness of it all, she met his lips with hers fully, closing her eyes to savor the strong, insistent swell of love within her.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Eleven
"She's got this town in uproar,” Wade, the bull handler, chattered. He'd been singing Stella's praises in his low country twang since he'd seen Judd pull into the arena parking lot with Stella in the passenger seat. “The newspaper did a column about her homecoming. Did you see it? And then there was that scuffle at the party over at the Range. I heard you were there. Did she really give her brother the who-what?"
Judd couldn't help but smile as he taped up his riding hand. Wade kept rambling on like a star-struck idiot. He'd never seen him so worked up.
"You sure are a lot more chipper than usual,” Wade pointed out, squinting at him knowingly. “There's talk going around that she spent a couple nights out at your place."
Judd lifted a shoulder, walking past the medical tent on the way to the corral to gear up for the show, hoping the handler would get distracted real quick.
"Ah, come on, kid,” Wade pleaded. “We've been working this show for years together. We're practically partners. You can tell me anything."
Judd rolled his eyes. Wade was one of the biggest male gossips in Wayback. He still ran his mouth about Wild Willie's death and the fire at Apache Jim's cabin. Judd had only tolerated him all these years because he treated his animals fairly and had never asked for more than he deserved out of the prize money.
"Hey, Black!"
Judd halted, body immediately tensing. Jesus, he couldn't get a break today. He turned to see Keefe striding up all hot and bothered. Casey tagged along after him looking wary. Wade shut up real quick, slinking back out of the way, anticipating action.
"Yeah, that's right. I'm talking to you, asshole,” Keefe sneered, coming up to leer dangerously in Judd's face. “What'd you tell my sister to convince her to stay with you? You lie to her? Tell her you didn't do it?"
"She knows the whole story, Keefe,” Casey said, moderating as usual. “She knows like everyone else in this town that Wild Willie got what was coming to him."
"So she's just tickled to be sleeping with a murderer then?” Keefe asked, a far-from-friendly smile peeling back at his lips. “Personally, I don't know how either of you sleep at night.” He held Judd's rocky stare for a moment then backed away and began to stride off. “Then again, I reckon you're too busy giving it to her."
Long-built rage boiled over. Something inside Judd snapped. He charged after Keefe, bending low and wrapping his arms around his knees to take him down to the dirt.
Bystanders flocked toward them and formed an excited circle around the cloud of dust the scrambling enemies were kicking up around them. Casey made a move to jump in and stop them. A bracing hand gripped his shoulder. He turned toward his father. “Let ‘em go, son,” Leland told him in a weary voice. “Just let ‘em go."
Judd snapped Keefe's head back with a hard-knuckled punch in the face. Keefe didn't seem to feel it. He rolled over, teeth clenched, lips peeled back. He hit Judd in the stomach, waited for him to double over before he pushed him onto his back and pounced on him, fists flying.
Adrenaline surged too fast to feel any pain. Judd flipped Keefe off him and drove his elbow in his gut, pulled his arm back by the elbow to brace it behind him. Keefe yelled when the bone began to tremble, on the verge of ripping out of its joint.
He heard a voice over the blood roaring in his ears and looked up to see Stella shoving her way toward them through the crowd. “Stop it! Somebody stop them! They're going to kill each other!” she screamed.
Distracted, he didn't see Keefe's knee get lose. It rammed into his groin. He crumbled, groaning. Keefe pulled his head back by the hair and slammed a fist into his mouth. The first shot of pain broke through. It fueled him into retaliation. He caught the next flying punch, twisted Keefe's hand until he yelled again then kicked his legs out from underneath him.
Before he could drop kick him, arms snagged him from behind. “That's enough, sonny,” the sheriff said in his ear. “That's enough now."
The deputy was busy pulling Keefe to his feet. Judd turned his head and saw Stella staring at him, eyes burning into his. She wasn't happy.
He felt the touch of cold steel at his wrists as the sheriff began to lead him off and hoped someone would pick up his hat.
* * * *
No one came to the jail to post bail for either of them. They sat in their neighboring cells, bruised and bleeding, seething from the remnants of anger they hadn't burned off. They were both hurting like hell though neither of them would've admitted it.
Judd managed to staunch off his bleeding nose. It wasn't broken, thank God, but he was sure he'd heard Keefe's crack. He hoped to God he'd shattered the pretty bastard's face. They didn't say a word to each other, not even after the sheriff locked up for the night and left the deputy to snooze at his desk.
The only regret Judd had was his job at the Range. Too bad. He'd liked it there, had made a name for himself.
They were both surprised when Leland walked in the next morning and paid both their tabs. He didn't say a word to either of them, just stared down his nose at them then turned to lead them out to the truck.
They had to sit next to each other. Keefe, the smaller of the two, squeezed into the middle seat while Judd all but hugged the passenger door. A grim silence followed them most of the way to the Range. It wasn't until the big ranch house came into view that Leland finally opened his mouth. “You both are coming inside with me. We've got some talking to do."
Judd's frown deepened. Did Keefe really have to be there when the old man fired him? Hell, maybe he'd fire both of them. It was only fair.
When they were settled in the matching chairs in front of Leland's desk in the office, he spoke again. “This has been a long time coming. I've been waiting for you two to go at it since the day you met. I just want to know one thing. What the hell took you so long?"
Stunned, Judd glanced at Keefe then back at Leland, who looked like he was enjoying this. He hadn't seen Leland's wicked streak of humor in ages.
"You did us all a favor by trying to settle your differences the only way you know how,” Leland pointed out. “So are you done now? Can we all put it aside and go back to work?"
"You aren't going to fire him?” Keefe asked, incredulous.
"I can't afford to lose either of you here at the Range,” Leland said, serious again. “You're both my hardest workers. You think I'm going to let my competitors get ahold of either of you? No sirree.” He made a sweeping motion with his hand. “Now go on. Judd, Stella brought your truck and trailer over this morning. Your horse is in the stable waiting with Jeremy."
Baffled, Judd nodded. He began to turn and walk out.
"Oh, one more thing. I think this is yours."
He loo
ked back and saw Leland holding his black hat. There was a sly grin on his face. For a moment, the man looked young again. “Man can't work without his hat."
* * * *
Stella was with Casey in the horse corral behind the stable. She'd done some barrel racing before she'd skipped town for acting school. She'd gotten to know Lucy Girl well enough since she'd been back. She figured the exercise would be good for Lucy, and Stella was curious to see if she still had a knack for it. Casey was instructing her from his stance at the rail.
"Lean into the turns,” he called. “That's right. Trust Lucy. She knows what she's doing."
"Good girl,” Stella murmured after rounding the last barrel. She smiled, leaning over to rub the mare's face. “That's a good girl. You and me are going to give the rest of them a run for their money one day."
"Not today,” Casey told her, a skeptical critic with a stopwatch. “You both still need work. Do it again."
"But we've been at it for hours,” Stella preened, batting her lashes at him. “Don't you think we deserve a quick break?"
"It's almost lunchtime,” he said with a quick glance at the sun. “One more time then we'll head in for tea and sandwiches."
She didn't see Judd ride up on his stallion, Keefe right behind him. She glanced up just before the last turn, saw them and called out to them. Lucy Girl panicked at the sound of her voice, trying to stop. She plowed into the barrel, going down on her knees.
Stella managed to get her hands off the reins and out in front of her. They scrapped over the dirt of the corral as she tumbled over the horse's head. She didn't have time to scream before she face-planted into the ground.
Rolling onto her back, coughing, she looked up to see Lucy Girl rearing up, hooves waving over her. She held up her hands helplessly, every bone in her body bracing for impact.
Casey put his body between her and the horse, shooing the animal back with his hands over his head, trying to grab hold of the reins Stella had left dangling over her back. Before she could breathe a sigh of relief, strong arms were scooping her off the ground. Her breath caught, but her heart rolled in relief when she saw that it was Judd.
Blackest Heart [Wayback Texas] Page 9
