On the Fence (Chance City Series Book Two)

by Robin Deeter

  Daphne arched an eyebrow at him. “Really? Maybe they’re smarter than some dogs, but not ours.”

  Aaron said, “Oh, boy.”

  Doug said, “Cats are smarter than all dogs, just the same way that women are smarter than men.”

  Daphne said, “I’ll agree with you on the last half of that statement, but not the first.”

  “Most dogs are loyal, loving, obedient, and will protect their family until the end. Cats on the other hand, make you chase them for attention, are able to get you to pet them while you yell at the dog, and will almost always run from danger. Almost. There are exceptions, but the vast majority of them are interested more in self-preservation than being an attack cat. Unless they’re a lion. That’s different,” Doug said. “Men and women are the same way. Who usually chases who? Men chase women, trying to gain their affection, trying to show that they’re worthy of the lady. Not usually the other way around. Men are the dogs and women are the cats.”

  Daphne grinned. “Wait until I tell Cy that. He’ll have a conniption.”

  “Don’t tell him in the morning right before he comes to work,” Brock said. “I’ll have to send him out to the Dog House so I don’t have to hear a lecture about why dogs are better than cats.”

  She said, “All right. I’ll tell him after supper tomorrow night.”

  Brock groaned. “Can you get him drunk first? Then maybe he won’t remember it.”

  Aaron grinned. “Just have Leigh distract him. She’s a beautiful woman.”

  Amelia swatted his arm. “Behave.”

  Daphne said, “Actually, those are both good ideas. Between both things, he wouldn’t remember.”

  Doug tapped his head. “See? Women are smarter.”

  They chuckled and then Amelia served dessert. Brock took Daphne’s hand under the table, giving it a squeeze. She looked at him and he gave her a smile. When she returned it, Brock winked and released her hand again.

  Doug saw, but he gave no notice. His son had been right. Daphne reminded him a lot of Cotton: very likable and easy to get along with. She might be part Comanche, but after spending a little time with her, he’d forgotten that fact. It was clear that she made Brock happy.

  He came to a decision. If Brock and Daphne got married, he’d try to get along with Daphne’s other family members. He’d been doing some thinking of his own and maybe Brock was right that the time had come to change his thinking on some things.

  *****

  As he took Daphne home later, he wished that it wasn’t so cold out. He’d have loved to find a nice field somewhere and spread out a blanket for them to lie on so they could watch the stars together. However, the fields were covered by a heavy frost and the temperature hovered around twenty-five degrees. Much too cold for doing that.

  Brock reflected back with relief on how well dinner had gone. Daphne had won his family over, even his father. So far, so good. Riding with Daphne snuggled up against him, Brock was the happiest he’d ever been. He couldn’t believe how much his life was changing.

  Daphne’s thoughts ran in much the same vein. Her stomach didn’t hurt anymore and she’d liked Brock’s family very much. It had been fun helping with cleanup and poking fun at the men along with the other women. Brock and Nora took more after their father in looks while Aaron looked like Amelia.

  She grinned as she imagined Cy’s reaction to Doug’s comments about dogs and cats. It would most likely set off a tirade.

  “What are you smiling at?” Brock asked.

  “Just looking forward to agitating my brother about cats.”

  Brock laughed. “You’re gonna tell him tonight, aren’t you?”

  “If he’s still up, yes. I won’t be able to resist.” She rubbed her mittens together in anticipation.

  Brock nudged her. “Women really are like cats. They like tormenting the dogs.”

  Daphne gave him a wicked look and meowed. Brock laughed at her playfulness, which encouraged her to further silly behavior. She ducked under his arm and crawled into his lap, purring as she did so. Grinning, Brock helped her get settled. She fit so perfectly against him and he would have ridden around with her all night if it meant that he got to hold her.

  However, they were almost to her ranch. Brock held back a sigh of dismay. Daphne rose up so she could kiss his cheek. He smiled and she did it again and then he jerked when she bit his earlobe.

  “Stop the buggy, Brock. I want to say goodnight to you here instead of up at the house.”

  He quickly complied and wrapped his arms around her, bringing his mouth down on hers in an urgent kiss. She matched him, hanging on to his coat as best she could with her mittens. Her lips were sweet and pliant under his and he loved that she never hesitated to grant him access, touching his tongue with hers.

  Resisting his intense physical hunger for her was getting harder all the time. She came alive in his arms and he knew that she wanted him just as badly. Every time he brought her home, they parted unfulfilled, and he didn’t know how much longer he could hold off.

  When he moved to draw away from her, she protested, holding onto him. He chuckled against her mouth and she smiled as they broke apart. Slowly, she moved off his lap, sitting on the seat again.

  “Now you’ll be all toasty going home,” she said.

  Brock said, “You’re evil.”

  “You always say that, but you’re the one stopping us,” Daphne said. “I want you so much, but sometimes I don’t think you want me as much.”

  Brock stopped the buggy again and turned his passion-filled eyes on her. “Take off your mitten.”

  “What? Why?”

  He reached over, pulled off her mitten, and then brought her hand to his lap, pressing it against the bulge in his pants. “Don’t ever doubt how much I want you, Daphne, and if I didn’t respect you so much, I’d take you over there in that barn and make love to you until dawn.”

  Daphne’s mouth stood partway open, her eyes wide. She wanted to go on touching him, but he pulled her hand away and started up the drive again. Since she didn’t know what to say, she kept silent.

  When they reached the house, Brock helped her down and caught her look at his pants.

  He laughed. “You really are a wicked woman. Get in the house.”

  She giggled, kissed his cheek, and trotted inside.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Johnny woke up to searing pain in his chest. His head pounded, too. Groaning, he cracked one eye open. Faint light filled the room, but after a few moments, he discerned that it wasn’t his room. Then he felt a hand run over his back, making him stiffen in surprise.

  “You all right?” A female voice asked.

  As fast as he physically could, Johnny rolled over, bringing a very pretty blonde girl into his line of sight.

  “Who are you?”

  Sliding a hand up over his arm, she said, “You don’t remember?”

  Her movement revealed the fact that she was naked under the covers. Immediately, he pulled the covers over her. “No, ma’am. Where am I?”

  She giggled. “In my room, where you’ve been since last night.”

  Looking at the window, Johnny asked, “I’ve been here all night? Where is here?”

  “The Chowhound, silly. I knew you were drunk, but I didn’t think you were that soused,” she said.

  Johnny sat up slowly, his chest hurting so badly that he couldn’t breathe for a few moments. Lifting the covers, he saw that he was naked, too.

  “Oh, no. Did we … did me and you … oh my God.” His words dissolved into another groan.

  She sat up and kissed his back. “Well, we tried, but things didn’t cooperate. You were too drunk.”

  Johnny closed his eyes in relief. “Thank God.”

  She pouted. “Well, that’s not the reaction I usually get.”

  “Oh, I didn’t mean anything about you, ma’am. It’s just that I’d prefer to remember my first time and I’d prefer that first time to be with my wife whenever I get married,” he said
.

  She laughed and pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “We could pretend I’m your wife if you want.”

  Johnny blushed scarlet. “Uh, thanks for the offer, but I don’t think I could right now even if I did want to, which I don’t. I’m in too much pain. I was shot about three weeks ago and I’m still healing.”

  “I saw your bandages and I kept asking you if you were all right, but you said you were. Of course, drunk men say all sorts of things,” she said.

  “Yeah. Where’s Ray? Do you know him?” Johnny asked.

  Gingerly, he got out of bed, trying to find his clothes. He hurt too badly to worry about being naked in front of her. She’d seen it all anyway.

  “Ray was busy last night himself.”

  “Oh. He was with one of the girls, huh?”

  “Oh, yeah. He had a couple different customers last night,” the girl told him.

  Johnny gave her a sharp glance. “Don’t you mean he was with a couple of your, uh, coworkers?”

  She laughed. “No. The only time Ray ever sleeps with one of us is when he hasn’t had any customers for a while. Otherwise, he likes to save himself for them.”

  Johnny stared at her for several moments, trying to comprehend what she was saying.

  “Oh, you poor thing,” she said, getting out of the bed. “Let me help you.”

  Johnny closed his eyes. “Can you please put something on.”

  She smiled. “Most men want me to take my clothes off.”

  After slipping on a negligée, she helped Johnny find his clothes and get dressed. The whole time, Johnny thought about what she’d said about Ray. Someone knocked on her door and she opened it.

  “Is he up yet, Mandy?” Ray asked, coming in the room. “I guess he is. You ready to go?”

  Johnny nodded.

  Ray looked him over. “You don’t look too good. You overdid it. I told you to take it easy on him, Mandy.”

  “We didn’t even do anything. His equipment didn’t work and he passed out,” Mandy said, crawling back into the bed. “Johnny, you’re a very sweet man. Don’t change. Now, both of you get out of here. I need some more sleep.”

  Ray guided Johnny out the back door to Johnny’s buggy.

  “Let me help you in,” Ray said.

  Johnny brushed Ray’s hands away. “I can do it.”

  With great effort, he pulled himself onto the buggy seat. Pressing a hand to his chest, he pulled a little bottle of laudanum out of his coat pocket and took a small sip of it. Ray climbed in beside him and took up the reins.

  “I know you’re hung over and in pain, but what else is wrong?”

  Johnny said, “I’m embarrassed.”

  “Aw, don’t be. It happens to a lot of guys when they get drunk,” Ray said.

  “Not by that. I’m glad that I couldn’t … perform. I don’t want my first time to be with a whore. I’m embarrassed by you.”

  Ray glanced at him. “By me? Why?”

  “Mandy said that you had customers last night. I thought maybe I’d heard her wrong, but I didn’t, did I?”

  “Damn her big mouth,” Ray muttered. “No, you didn’t hear wrong.”

  Johnny’s stomach rolled and he gagged. “I can’t believe you’re sleeping with men.”

  Ray burst into laughter. The loud noise made Johnny’s head throb harder. “Not men, dummy. I’m no rent boy. I’m a hustler. I sleep with women, who pay me to have sex with them.”

  Johnny met his eyes. “You sleep with women for money?”

  “Yeah. It pays real good, too. You’d make a killing with that good guy personality of yours. There are women who’d like to corrupt you,” Ray said, his gray eyes shining.

  “You’re a whore or whatever they call men like you.”

  “I’m a hustler, not a whore,” Ray corrected him.

  Johnny couldn’t believe his cavalier attitude. “You can call it whatever you want, but it’s still wrong.”

  Ray said, “I disagree. It’s an honest profession. The women I see know that there’s no romance attached to our time together and I make a lot more than I ever would working a regular job.”

  Johnny fought another wave of nausea. When it passed, he asked, “Does Sandy know about this?”

  Ray grinned. “Yeah. I rent a room from her, just like the girls do. However, unlike the girls, I usually have standing appointments since not many women come to the Chowhound.”

  Johnny was curious despite his disgust. “Why don’t you live there?”

  “Because it’s not like it is for the girls. Men don’t care if other men know that they’re seeing whores. I have to be more discreet because women are a lot more timid about it. Plus, they’re judged harsher than men, which is total bull crap.”

  Johnny rubbed his eyes. “Please tell me that they’re not married women.”

  “I can’t do that. I know this is all a shock to you. Look, these women are lonely and unsatisfied by their husbands, who are some of the whores’ biggest customers. They’d rather sleep with those girls than their wives. If their husbands paid them enough attention, their wives wouldn’t seek out male companionship,” Ray explained.

  “It still isn’t right.”

  Ray grew annoyed. “By your standards and most of society’s, but a lot of those people are hypocrites. I know town council members who come there and other important people, too. You’d be surprised. So if you’re gonna judge me, you gotta judge them, too.”

  Johnny said, “That may be, but those people aren’t my friend. You are. I think you’re headed down a dangerous path. What if you get one of those women pregnant?”

  “That’s what Mother’s Little Helpers are for.”

  Johnny frowned. “What’s that?”

  “I keep forgetting how innocent you are about all of this.” Ray guided the horse around a turn. “I’m talking about condoms.”

  “What?”

  Ray groaned. “Didn’t your pa explain to you about all of this? Cy? Cotton? Someone?”

  Johnny felt stupid. “No.”

  “Do you know how sex works?”

  “Sort of.”

  “Well, when you’re feeling better, I’ll explain it to you.”

  Johnny shook his head and then grabbed it when his headache pounded harder. “No, you won’t. I can’t be friends with someone like you.”

  Ray’s eyes widened in alarm. “You don’t mean that. You’re in too much pain to think straight.”

  Johnny fell silent.

  “Johnny, tell me that you don’t mean that.”

  Johnny refused to look at Ray. He was too angry and disgusted.

  Ray said, “I thought we were best friends and could tell each other anything, Johnny.”

  Johnny said, “I thought so, too. I could handle the fact that you were popular with women, but knowing that you’re a whore and sleep with married women? I’m sorry, but I just can’t stomach that.”

  Hurt and angry, Ray stopped the buggy and thrust the reins into Johnny’s hands.

  “What are you doing?” Johnny asked.

  Ray jumped out of the buggy. “Get home yourself since I disgust you so much. I wouldn’t want you to be embarrassed by your association with me. I know you have morals, but I never thought you’d turn on me. You need to go to church and make friends with some other fellas with a holier-than-thou outlook on life, Johnny. Then you’ll have friends who are worthy of you instead of scum like me.”

  Stunned, Johnny couldn’t say anything as Ray jogged back towards town. Eventually, he adjusted the reins and got the horse moving. His heart dropped even lower in his chest than it already was with the loss of his best friend. Tears stung his eyes as he made his way the rest of the way home.

  *****

  Leigh left the barn with a pail of milk for breakfast. As she crossed the drive, Johnny came driving up the lane. From the absence of the buggy and horse, she’d known that he hadn’t come home last night. He drove up to the house and pulled the horse to a stop, but he didn’t get out.
r />   Sensing that something was wrong, she quickened her step to reach the buggy faster.

  “Johnny? Where’s Ray? Why didn’t he drive you home?”

  Johnny mumbled, “We’re not friends anymore. I can’t get out on my own.”

  “What the hell happened?” she asked. “Never mind that right now. Let me get Cy.”

  “Ok.”

  Leigh hurried into the kitchen and set the milk pail on the corner. Daphne was just putting on some coffee. Going to the bottom of the stairs, Leigh called up them for Cy.

  “What’s the matter?” he asked, coming downstairs.

  “Johnny’s out in the buggy and he’s in bad shape. He didn’t come home last night and he drove home alone,” she said. “I need help getting him out of the buggy.”

  Cy’s face tightened. “I’ll kill Ray when I see him again. He should’ve driven Johnny home.”

  Daphne had heard Leigh and she’d hurried out to the buggy. Leigh and Cy joined her. By the look in Cy’s eye, both women knew he was furious.

  “You’ve looked better, buddy,” Cy said. “Let’s get you out of there. Lean towards me. I’ll get you from there.”

  Johnny leaned over and Cy picked him up, setting him on his feet. Cy put an arm around Johnny’s waist and helped him into the house. He led him into the parlor and had him sit on the sofa. Daphne pulled off his boots and helped him swing his legs up onto the sofa. She fixed a couple of pillows behind his back and covered him with an afghan.

  She wrinkled her nose when she caught a whiff of him. “How much did you drink? You smell like someone poured whiskey all over you.”

  Johnny covered his eyes with a forearm. “I don’t know. I had a couple of shots and it gets fuzzy after that. I remember a couple of the guys daring me to drink more. And then—” His voice cracked as shame gripped him. “I woke up in one of the girls’ bed. She said nothing happened because I was too drunk, thank God.”

  Daphne shook her head. “Shame on Ray for getting you drunk like that and letting you go with one of those girls.”

  Leigh asked, “What about Ray? Why didn’t he bring you home?”

  “He brought me partway home, but then we had a really bad argument and he took off back to town. I, uh, we’re not going to be friends anymore,” Johnny said.