“I know who you are.”
“So…you are the man who is here to steal my daughter’s ranch,” the judge said, looking into his glass of whiskey and slowly taking a drink.
“Excuse me?” Michael said, turning to the man.
“You heard me correctly, Michael Henry Armstrong. I know who you are.”
Michael took another drink of his beer and threw ten dollars on the bar, and he started to walk away, when the judge grabbed his arm. “We have to talk, now,” the judge said firmly, and soon the two men were walking toward the courthouse.
* * * *
In the judge’s chambers, Michael’s attention was quickly drawn to the large painting behind the man’s desk. There, with a light illuminating it, hung a portrait of Rachael and her family. Standing next to her was her husband. Robert was tall man, with sandy blond hair and warm brown eyes. He looked adoringly at his wife, who, in her lap, held two young boys with fat, rosy cheeks. A little girl stood next to her, with long blonde curls draped around her shoulders, and the eyes of her mother. But it was Rachael herself, sitting in the middle, surrounded by her family, with the look of peace upon her face. She was glowing. Her emerald eyes sparkled, and she was smiling.
Michael was staring at the photo. Lost in a trance, he moved closer to it to get a better look.
The judge watched him. He knew from what he had heard from Kenny and some of the boys out at the ranch that there was something going on. He needed to find out for himself, and watching Michael now, the judge knew the boys were right. Clearing his throat, the judge walked toward his chair.
Michael turned and smiled. “So what do you want to talk to me about, Judge?” he said, taking a seat in the man’s office.
“Are you here to steal her ranch?”
“No.”
“Then what are you doing here?”
“Why should I tell you?” Michael asked suspiciously.
“My daughter is all I have left. That ranch is her life. For some reason, over the last couple of months, there has been a change in Rachael, and I think it’s because of you. So if you’re here to take her ranch, I think you better pack up and leave now,” the judge said firmly.
“I am not trying to take her ranch, Mr. Clark. I am trying to save it,” Michael said, getting up and walking around the room, looking at all the personal photos, the diplomas, and even at some animal heads hanging on the wall.
“Explain,” the judge ordered. Michael turned to look at the man. Taking a deep breath, he began to explain why he was here and what he had learned. He told the judge that he was going to do everything he could to stop this man from taking her ranch. With the whole story out, Michael walked back to the chair and sat, waiting for the judge to respond. But when he spoke, Michael didn’t expect what came out of the man’s mouth.
“So, you are her to help her…just like you did in Montana?”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me right,” the judge barked.
Michael sat there stunned.
“I think enough has been said here,” Michael said, getting up.
“Mr. Armstrong, sit down!” he said, motioning to the chair in front of him. He watched Michael take a seat. When he took a deep breath, Michael spoke, “I am just here to help her with the cattle drive this fall. I give you my word.”
“Does she know?” the judge questioned him again.
“About the accident, yes, about the other, no,” Michael said, looking at the man.
“She needs to know,” the judge said with a curious look. “You must understand, Mr. Armstrong. I am just looking after the best interest of my daughter.” Before Michael could respond, there was a knock at the door.
As the door slowly opened, they both heard her. “Dad, I need to talk to…” she said, stopping in mid-sentence. Standing there with her hands on her hips, she glared at her father. “What the hell is going on?” she asked angrily.
“Just having a talk with the town’s new organic farmer,” he responded.
“Yeah right.”
“Rachael, we were just having a nice talk,” he reiterated.
“Well, Judge, It’s been real interesting. I think we have finished everything here,” Michael said, getting up from the chair.
“This conversation isn’t over, Mr. Armstrong.”
Michael just stood there with his cool eyes and glared at the man.
He was used to bullies, and he loved putting them in their place. Even though he knew this man was just looking out for his daughter, there was something about him that just rubbed him wrong. Walking over to Rachael, Michael put his arm around her. Looking at the judge once more, he smiled. “This conversation is over, Mr. Clark. We have nothing more to say to each other.” Escorting Rachael toward the door, Michael tipped his hat toward the judge. “Have a nice night.”
* * * *
They left the courthouse and walked out into the night air with the festival in full swing. The kids were laughing as they passed the hay-sack race, where two young boys were trying desperately to pass a pair of young girls. Parents were cheering them on, all yelling and screaming, enjoying the scene. Michael laughed when he saw the pair of girls make it to the finish line first.
It had been a really long time since he had enjoyed a small-town festival. He remembered when it was he and his brother, doing that same very thing. Though they were a little more coordinated than the two young boys he saw, even he and his brother were beaten out by a pair of pretty young fillies with yellow bows in their hair. Thinking back, he really didn’t mind getting beaten by girls ’cause he looked forward to the kiss afterward.
His first kiss.
She was a little bitty thing. Large doe eyes, soft cotton hair, and a smile that made him feel all warm inside. She was his best friend. And that night after the race, she met him near the hay barn, and there, she kissed him, so soft and innocent. A night he would always remember.
Rachael was talking when she looked up at Michael. His eyes were miles away, lost in thought. She watched him, and when he smiled, her heart skipped a beat.
“Penny for your thoughts,” she whispered.
“Hum.”
“Michael. You’re smiling.”
“I am?”
“Must have been something. I haven’t seen a smile like that since I first kissed Jacob Crawley out near his daddy’s pond. He had that same look,” she said, looking up at him. Michael just smiled a crooked grin, grabbed her around the waist, and said, “Have I told you how beautiful you look in that pretty yellow dress?”
“Now that I think about it…no.”
“Well, Mrs. Mason, you look absolutely delectable.”
She blushed.
Michael watched her soft pale cheeks slowly turn a sinful shade of red. Reaching his hand to brush her cheek, he whispered, “That color becomes you. Maybe I should do everything I can to keep it there instead of trying to infuriate you.”
“Why, Mr. Armstrong. What do you have in mind?”
“How about we—”
Michael was about to suggest something indecent when Chris interrupted them. “There you are,” he said, looking at Rachael. Michael looked at the sheriff, who turned to see that he was noticeably holding Rachael. He just smiled and pulled her a little closer to him. Chris set his jaw firm and squinted his eyes. The two men just stood there, staring at each other.
Rachael just sighed and removed herself from Michael’s embrace.
“What can I do for you, Chris?”
“How about that dance you promised?” he said, looking at Michael and reaching for her hand. Michael quickly grabbed her waist and started walking her toward the dance floor. Turning, he looked at Chris. “You can have the next one.”
As he escorted her toward the dance floor, he heard several of the men and women nearby starting to laugh. He wasn’t done talking to her, and she had him all riled up.
“That was a low-down, dirty thing to do. How old are you, twelve!” She turned on him on the da
nce floor, yelling.
Michael, not saying anything, took her hand in his and slowly wrapped his hand around her waist with a slow, purposeful movement. He kept his eyes locked on hers, and when she started to speak again, he smiled and gently pulled her into him, so close he could feel her breast against his chest. As the music began, he moved her along the dance floor and listened to her yell and berate him like a child. He continued to smile when she called him insensitive, and he even smiled when she said he acted like a jerk.
There on that floor, she was his. For one slow dance, she belonged to him. He adored the way she chided him. How her eyes came alive, and when she spoke, it sounded like skylarks over the meadow. As he twirled her around the floor, he could smell her perfume. He took a deep breath, hoping to be immersed in her soft lavender scent. He wanted to wash himself in her, to be near her, to hold her, and to make love to her. Looking at this woman did something to Michael. He knew he liked her. He liked her a lot. But there was just something about her that was addictive. He craved more.
He danced with her, holding her tightly against him as she yelled. He noticed that she never even took a breath. She continued on, calling him all kinds of names, and even once blaming his mother for not teaching him any manners, but he didn’t care. As the song began to wind down, Rachael had geared up into overdrive.
“Are you even listening to me?” she screamed at him once the music stopped, removing herself from his embrace, attracting the attention of everyone in hearing distance. Together they stood there in the middle of the dance floor with everyone looking at them. Michael just smiled and whispered, “Yes, Rachael. I have heard everything you said, and so have half of the people in this town.”
She just stood there with her hands on her hips looking straight at him, waiting for an answer, but when he heard her start tapping that small foot of hers, he figured might as well go out with a bang.
There in front of god and everyone, Michael pulled her back into him and kissed her. She fought him good, but when his tongue entered her mouth, she gave in and wrapped her arms around him.
* * * *
The crowd stood by watching as he kissed the most obstinate, headstrong woman in the county. Though they all knew, they did not want to be where he was when he finally let go of her. It still didn’t stop them from clapping and hollering.
“Knew there was someone on this planet who could shut her up,” a man said.
“I heard that!” said another.
* * * *
She was furious. She wanted to kill him. He had embarrassed her in from of the whole damn town, but yet, she couldn’t stop herself. God help her, she wanted more. Her arms moved slowly up his back and held onto him as she dug her hands into his back. She moaned as his tongue moved across her bottom lip.
Michael knew he eventually had to let her go, but damn she tasted good. As he released his hold on her and slowly moved his lips from hers, she stumbled closer to him. He smiled. “Damn, woman, you taste good,” he whispered. “A man can get drunk on you.”
Rachael quickly looked at him. “What did you say?” she softly said above a whisper.
Confused, Michael stepped back a little, as she looked frightened and ashamed. Thinking quickly, he couldn’t think of anything that would have offended her. He stood there and watched her. She was no longer that strong, determined woman, but a small, frail child, whose world was crumbling around her.
“Rachael?”
“I have to go,” she quickly said and left him standing on the dance floor alone.
* * * *
Chris found her sitting on the tailgate of his truck. He walked over to her and sat down, handing her some cotton candy. They sat there for a couple of minutes when she started to cry. Chris just sighed and put his arm around her.
“It’s okay, Rach. Everything is going to be okay.”
“Chris, it not okay.”
“What happened? Want me to arrest him? I will if you ask.” He felt Rachael giggle a little.
“He’s done nothing for you to do that.” She smiled, sitting back up and wiping her eyes.
“You could have fooled me. That man planted a good one on you in front of the whole damn town. Thought for sure I was going to have to beat him to a pulp. Was damn near gonna do that, but someone stopped me. Want to know who?”
“Who?”
“The judge.”
“What are you talking about, Chris?” she asked, looking at him. Chris looked at the ground and got up and stood in front of her. “The thing is, Rach, I was gonna wallop him. But the judge grabbed my arm. He pointed toward you. What I saw stopped me. You gave in, Rach. You never give in. You let him kiss you. You let him, like you wanted him to.”
“That’s crazy. You’re crazy!” she said, getting annoyed and hopping down from his truck bed. Chris grabbed her arm. “Rachael Marie Mason. I have known you your whole entire life, and only once have I ever seen you allow a man to kiss you like that. You loved that man. You married that man. When you kissed Michael, it was like seeing you and Robert again. The way you lit up with him, Rachael. I can’t explain it. But the whole damn town saw it, too, and I would bet the farm he saw it, too. That man’s not blind, and he is not dead, Rachael. He is alive.”
“You son of a bitch. You stay the hell away from me. Do you hear me? You stay away from me. I don’t need you or your advice. You stay away from me!” she said as she walked off.
* * * *
Michael, Kenny, and some of the boys were all sitting at a table having themselves a cool drink. Soon the judge walked over and sat down next to them. Michael looked at the judge and smiled. When the judge tipped his hat, Michael looked back at Kenny.
“Don’t forget we have to head to Macon tomorrow. So don’t get sloshed, Henry,” Kenny said, taking a drink of his beer.
“That better be a Coke he is drinking, or his ass is grass,” Michael said, looking at his son. Henry just smiled and poured the rest of his root beer into the glass.
“What can I get you, Judge?” a pretty girl asked.
“Rum and Coke, Katie.”
“Justin, Brutus, you two need a refill?” Katie asked.
“Sure, honey, thanks,” Justin said. The table fell quiet, all wanting to ask, but none of them knowing how. So when Kenny kicked Henry under the table, the kid took the lead.
“So, Dad…” he said, clearing his throat, “I’m curious. Do you go around kissing every girl or just one in particular?”
The guys all looked at Henry and then at Michael, but it was the judge who answered for him, “He better be only kissing one girl.”
They all laughed.
* * * *
Rachael had made it to the city limit sign when her feet started to ache. It was dark, and she was getting cold. She found a spot on the side of the road and sat. She quickly took off her heels and rubbed her feet. It was going to be another ten miles before she even made it to her property.
Sitting there, she started to think of the first time she let Robert kiss her. She was so mad at him. They were in the eleventh grade, and he took credit for her work on the downfall of the Roman Empire report. Though they were assigned to do the report together, Robert skipped out and played ball with his friends, leaving her to do all the research. She tried to confront him about it one day outside the library.
“Robert Mason, you have to help me with this report. Mrs. Lynnwood said we both have to do the research and present it together.”
“Come on, Rach. It’s nice outside. I know you can handle it. Do a good job okay. I have to run,” he said as he slapped her butt, running off with his brother and his friends.
He left her at that library for two whole weeks. He would meet her there, only to leave after a few minutes. When the time came for the report to be typed up, she rode her horse over to his house and left all the material with his mother.
“Mrs. Mason. Could you please see that Robert gets this? It’s our research for the report. It has to be typed and double-space
d. Please tell him to use the spell check. It’s due on Monday,” she said, handing his mother the materials.
“I will make sure he gets it, Rachael.”
It was Sunday, around eleven at night when Rachael heard someone calling her name. She got up out of bed and walked over to her window to find Robert standing in her backyard. She quickly ran downstairs and walked out into the backyard, wearing her nightgown. She slowed when Robert’s mouth popped open as he stared at her. She didn’t realize that her hair was out of its braid, and her white nightgown showed her shoulders and fell to midthigh. She never considered herself a beauty, but she knew she didn’t look hideous.
“What are you gaping at?” She walked toward him with her hand on her hips.
“Uh…” he said, staring at the girl he had always thought was just another one of the boys.
“Robert! Pick up your mouth off the ground and tell me what you’re doing here?”
“The report,” he muttered, looking at her in the moonlight, lost in her wild beauty.
“Did you finish it?” she asked, moving closer to him.
“Yeah…I think…uh…no,” he said, feeling drawn to her. Rachael was literally toe to toe with him when she looked up at him.
“What do you mean…no?”
Robert stood there, looking into her pool of green eyes that flickered with life. Her soft-pink lips puckered when she said his name, and dear god, she smelled like the fresh morning meadow after a night’s rain. Robert couldn’t help himself. He slowly reached for her and pulled her against himself and lowered his head to kiss those soft lips.
The moment his lips touched hers, Rachael felt the heat build within her. He was gentle with her, but firm. His hands never left her back as he softly parted her lips and delved into the warmth of her mouth. She melted against him as she raised her arms up around his neck and pulled herself closer to him.
The kiss seemed like it lasted for ever, but when she felt his arousal against her, he quickly backed away. He left her standing there in a fog, dazed and confused.
Joyce, Rebecca - The Cattle Drive [The Armstrong Brothers of Cedar Creek] (Siren Publishing Classic) Page 11
