Joyce, Rebecca - The Cattle Drive [The Armstrong Brothers of Cedar Creek] (Siren Publishing Classic)

by Rebecca Joyce

  * * * *

  Out in the cold, crisp air, Michael saddled up Jasper and soon headed out toward the herd. He had a job to do. With less than five weeks to get this herd delivered, he was now more determined than ever to see that these cattle made it to Silver Lake and that Rachael didn’t lose her ranch.

  The crew work diligently and hard over the next week and a half, making their first shipment delivery on time in Cotton, Wyoming. It took another five days to make it to Reading. After the herd was divided and the camp was set, Michael allowed half of the crew a night for relaxation.

  The snow was thick on the ground, and with the forecast expecting another six inches overnight, Michael sat atop of Jasper looking out over the herd. The land was beautiful. The tall trees were snow covered, the ground a blanket of white, and the cattle mewed and swayed, giving motion to the coldness that surrounded them. The night sky was lit up with thousands of sparkling stars, masking the storm that was brewing far off to the northeast.

  Looking around, he noticed the eerie quietness to the land, and a shiver ran deep down his spine.

  A warning.

  He knew the feeling as soon as it hit him. Then out of nowhere, lighting struck over the horizon. As if in slow motion, he slowly turned toward the cattle as the loud, boisterous thunder ripped overhead. The cattle started running and running hard off toward the northwest. Alert in seconds, Michael reared up Jasper and turned toward the herd. Grabbing his walkie-talkie, he yelled only one word, “Stampede!”

  The camp all heard the one word that every cowboy dreaded. Running to their horses, the remaining guys left behind were all soon riding out toward the moving herd. All fighting to control the herd, they made their way fast through the land. The cattle soon split, dividing the crew to control the herd they were closest to.

  Michael swayed to the right, moving northeast trying hard to get in front of the herd. Behind him, about ten other ranch hands right on his heels were spreading out to surround the herd.

  It took Michael and his crew almost thirty minutes to get the herd turned around heading back toward the camp. Having settled down, Michael took a deep breath, thinking the worst was over.

  He was wrong.

  “Mike!” Matthew shouted, pointing off to the southeast. Michael turned his attention to the rolling snow-covered hills, to find a horse speeding fast through the night. He watched as Rachael’s hair whipped fast in the wind, flowing behind her as she moved through the stampede, racing ahead to cut the other half of the herd off. Like a bolt of lightning, she vanished into the herd, emerging off to the left of the herd, yelling, “And move ahead of them!”

  Michael kicked Jasper and was soon racing down the hill toward the herd. He watched as she maneuvered the crew, and soon, she took control, turning the herd back toward the other group. As Michael approached her, she looked at him. What he saw there in that moment was blind fury.

  She didn’t say anything. She quickly turned her horse and soon rode off to help the crew get the herd back to the valley for the night. Michael watched her leave and soon followed, helping her.

  Saying absolutely nothing, she left the herd for the night, heading back to camp. Michael stayed with the herd until the next shift change, trying to figure what she was doing here. Giving up trying to understand her, he headed back with Matthew at his side.

  They arrived at camp, to shouting and cursing. Matthew and Michael looked at each other and dismounted their horses. Walking over to the commotion, they soon found Rachael, toe to toe with their father, and Mitchell, Mark, Marcus, and Mason standing right behind her.

  Michael’s mother ran over to him. “Michael, I couldn’t stop her. When she found out what your father had done, she went ballistic.”

  “What are you talking about, Mom?” Michael said, walking closer to Rachael.

  “He bought the note on her ranch, Michael. He took it out from under her,” she said, looking at her son, disgusted with her husband.

  Michael and Matthew flew past their mother. Michael grabbed his father by the shoulder, turning him around just as his other hand connected with his face. His father flew back, landing hard on his back. Michael was then on top of him, punching him in the face. Mason quickly moved Rachael out of the way, handing her off to Mitchell. It took only a minute for Matthew and Mason to pull Michael off of him, but the words emanating from his mouth even shocked the most hardened man.

  “You son of a bitch. I am going to kill you! You hear me, you bastard! I am going to kill you!” Michael yelled, trying to break free from the arms that held him back. “You took her ranch. You bastard! You tried to kill her! You greedy son of a bitch! You are not going to get him, do you understand. I will kill you first!” Michael fought the boys hard. Finally breaking free, he got his hands around his father’s neck and was planning on choking the life out of him when a gentle hand touched his shoulder.

  “Michael, please,” she said softly. Michael looked up to find his mother crying, pleading with him to stop. He looked over at Rachael, who was also crying in the arms of Mitchell. When he looked at Henry, he, too, turned to look away.

  “Michael, please. He isn’t worth it, honey. He isn’t worth it,” his mother sobbed. Michael released the hold on his father, throwing his head back toward the ground, and walked over to Rachael. He took her in his arms and held her. Her arms wrapped around his waist, holding him tight.

  Sarah Armstrong stood, looking at her sons and Henry. She walked over to her husband and said for all to hear, “This was the last straw, Mason Harold Armstrong. I have never told you how to run Crossfire Ranch, never once did I interfere, even with your whores, but this time you went too far. I told you next time I wouldn’t sit idly by. I would get a good lawyer, M. H. I want a divorce!” She looked at the man. Turning away, she stopped and looked back over her shoulder and said, “By the way, you’re fired! Get your shit and leave.”

  “I just wanted what was mine!” M.H. shouted as she turned her back on him.

  Sarah Armstrong walked over to the camper and disappeared inside, leaving everyone outside in the snow to wonder what had just happened. They all watched M.H. Armstrong get up and stagger toward one of the trucks and leave. The crew that accompanied their father followed.

  “Dad, what’s going on?” Henry said, looking for answers.

  “Not now, Henry.”

  “Michael?” Rachael questioned, looking up at Michael.

  “I am so sorry, Rachael.”

  “But why, I don’t understand?” she cried into his chest.

  “Mikie, get her inside. She isn’t wearing a coat,” Matthew quietly said.

  The whole camp watched Michael scoop her up into his arms and take her into the camper. He emerged a couple of minutes later, walking over to the fire.

  “Michael. Come over here and let me look at your hand,” Matthew said, getting the first aid kit. Letting him tend his hand, Michael’s eyes never left the camper.

  “Mason, please come in here,” Sarah said from the camper door.

  The brothers watched as Mason quietly walked over to the camper, closing the door behind them. He saw Rachael lying on the bed in the back, while his mother was sitting at the table going over paperwork.

  “Sit down, Mason,” she told him softly.

  “Mom, this is way out of control. You should have called me sooner.”

  “I am so sorry. You’re right, but circumstances have now changed, and I am going to ask you to do something for me that you may have a hard time with,” she said, looking at her son.

  “Mom?”

  Chapter 15

  “Michael, the boys,” Jake said quietly to him as he fixed his hands. Michael looked up and realized they were all still standing around watching.

  “Shift change. Everyone back to work!” he yelled.

  “You heard the man…move,” Kenny said, reiterated his order.

  The brothers stood outside waiting. The snow had begun to fall, and they all walked over to the fire to stay warm
, waiting for anyone to emerge from the camper. But no one did.

  Sitting outside, Michael wondered what he could do to fix this. Rachael had lost her ranch. Her cattle were no longer hers. Trying to figure everything out, he concentrated, staring into the fire. It was Mark who spoke first. “What do you think she is talking to Mason about?”

  “Whatever it is, it ain’t good,” Mitchell replied.

  The brothers all knew what Mason did for a living. They had all accepted it, for it was what he chose. He was good at what he did, and no one could deny that.

  Mason Harold Armstrong was the best sharpshooter the United States Army had, at least according to his brothers. Mason enlisted right out of high school, looking for an escape from their father. Like all of his brothers, Mason couldn’t wait to get the hell away from Dodge. Mason soon made a new home for himself in the army. He loved what he did and was on the fast track. After serving three tours in Iraq, he had just returned from his last tour in Afghanistan. Mason was the quiet brother. Never saying much, he preferred to let his weapon do the talking for him.

  Unlike his brothers, Mason wasn’t around much for Henry’s upbringing, but whenever he could take leave, Michael would wake to find him sleeping on his couch. Michael loved those unannounced visits, and so did Henry, but sitting there around the campfire with his brothers all around him, Michael worried about what their mother was asking of Mason. He, too, knew it wasn’t going to be good.

  They all heard the footsteps behind them. Standing, they turned to find their mother behind them.

  “I am so sorry, Michael,” she said, walking up to him.

  “It’s not your fault.” He asked, watching his brother get into a truck and leave, “Where is Mason going?”

  “I have asked him to do something for me.”

  “What?” Mitchell asked, wanting to know.

  “Mom, what did you ask Mase to do?” Matthew asked firmly.

  Sarah looked from one son to the next and lowered her head. “It’s time this mess ends. If not for all of you, then do it for your new niece or nephew. Henry will always be like a grandson to me, but it is time he knows the truth. I won’t have this hanging over our heads anymore.”

  Mark moved closer to his mother and placed his hands on her shoulders. “Mom, what did you ask Mason to do?”

  “I asked him to take care of your father,” she replied.

  “What do you mean, take care of him?” Michael asked, worried.

  “Exactly what I said,” she said firmly.

  “Shit! Someone go after him. Mom, you can’t ask him to do that. You know what he will do,” Mark cursed.

  Sarah looked appalled at what her sons were thinking and sighed. “I didn’t ask him to kill him. I am not that vengeful. I just asked that he make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid. You boys know your father.”

  “Wait just a damn minute. You said niece or nephew earlier,” Marcus said, finally chiming in.

  “Niece or nephew?” Mark and Mitchell both said in unison.

  “Rachael’s pregnant,” Michael offered. His brothers all smiled. They started congratulating him and patting him on his back.

  “So when’s the wedding?” Mark asked, easily changing the subject.

  “What?” Michael looked puzzled.

  “Look, Mikie, if you don’t want to marry that beautiful creature in there, I can guarantee you that the five of us will jump at the chance,” Mitchell replied.

  “I called first dibs,” Matthew shouted first.

  “Nobody is calling dibs!” Michael yelled back, getting frustrated with the turn in the conversation.

  “Well someone has to marry her. I vote me,” Mark offered.

  “Nobody is marrying Rachael!” Michael shouted, his temper in full-blown rage.

  “Well, I guess you better step up to the plate, big brother, ’cause that’s an Armstrong in her little belly, and by god, that baby will have the Armstrong name before it’s born,” Marcus said sternly to his brother.

  “I will take care of Rachael,” Michael quietly said, sitting down.

  “Michael, honey, we know you will take care of Rachael. That isn’t the issue. The issue is she is going to have your baby. Yours, Michael,” their mother said, emphasizing the word yours.

  “Well, what will you all have me do? I don’t even know if she wants to marry me,” he said, shouting at them all.

  “Then why don’t you ask?” the soft voice whispered through the air around them. Everyone turned around to see Rachael standing only a couple of yards away, smiling with her hands on her hips.

  * * * *

  The morning sun brought forth a whole new feel among the camp. Everyone was on edge, not saying a word, just quietly going about their business and waiting for the other shoe to drop.

  All were quiet eating their breakfast, and soon the morning crew started their shift. Even Michael and Rachael were quiet, each quietly taking shifts out with the herd to give some much-needed rest to the others. Henry never emerged from the herd, and after three days, Michael was worried. When he attempted to go find him, Mark and Mitchell would stop him, telling him to give him time.

  Giving Michael a wide berth, everyone went on about their business, moving the herd toward their next destination.

  It was midnight when they made it to Ridgeville. Setting up camp for the night, the crew made good time, getting the herd bedded for the night.

  “I can’t take this, Rachael,” Michael said, pacing in their camper.

  “Henry will come in when he is ready. Just give him some time. It’s not every day you learn your grandfather is a money-hungry, ranch-stealing bastard,” she softly said, lying on the mattress. Michael looked over at her, still mesmerized at her beauty. She was glowing, radiating warmth all around her. Her soft, pale skin shinned in the moonlight, her emerald eyes still pierced his heart, and with those soft lips, he still got lost in her rapture. She smiled up at him and pulled back the blankets. “Come to bed, Michael…please.”

  He sat down, taking off his clothes and boots, and climbed in next to her. Laying her head on his chest, wrapping her arm around his waist, Michael held her.

  “Rachael, marry me,” he asked softly.

  She smiled and replied, “Ask me after the drive.”

  Michael cupped her face in his hands and slowly kissed her. Her soft lips moved gently across his, welcoming him and loving him. As she slowly opened her mouth, Michael took her. He slowly rolled her over, bracing himself with his arms, as not to put all of his weight on her. He leaned down, kissing her neck as he lowered himself to her. As their bodies touched, he could feel the warmth surrounding her. Her hands trailed fire down his back, sending him into a fog of lust.

  Rachael moaned, and Michael trailed kisses down her neck to her chest. No longer afraid of her body, she let go and allowed him to truly love her. As his mouth licked her breast, her hand went to her mouth to stifle the moan that escaped from her wanting lips. Her body reacted, parting her legs for him. Michael’s hand moved slowly from her ankle up to her knee, inside her tight toward the warmth that she had exposed. As his thumb found her soft, sweet nub, he tenderly stoked it, making her moan in pleasure.

  “Rachael…look at me,” Michael said, kissing her neck. As she opened her eyes, Michael drove his fingers into her, escalating her to the brink. Grabbing his chest, her nails dug into him, and as his hand moved in and out of her, she arched her back as the waves engulfed her. Michael took her mouth, thrusting his tongue deep into her. His hand cupped her breast, playing with her nipple between his fingers.

  “Please….” she moaned as Michael nibbled her ear. Her body ached for him as he lowered his head toward her chest, kissing each breast, leaving a hot trail down to her stomach, and when his tongue entered her, she grabbed the blankets. He licked her, taking her into his mouth.

  Rachael’s body had seen pleasure before, but nothing compared to what she was experiencing now. The flashes of light sparkled all around her, the warmth flooded
her body, and when the light got so bright it blinded her, she exploded, seeing stars out all around her. With her body falling back down to the ground, Michael took her mouth and entered her with one smooth thrust, bringing her back to the present.

  He moved within her, gently in and out. As she raised her hands to his chest, his momentum sped up. He loved the feel of her beneath him, and he tried hard to control himself when she moved her hips to meet each movement.

  “Please…” she moaned once more. “Please, Michael.” Michael then, with one last thrust, exploded within her, sending her back into the flash of light. Michael fell on top of her, appearing dazed in ecstasy. Her arms wrapped around him and held him tightly to her.

  Rising up to look at her, he kissed her once more before rolling off to the side, letting their bodies cool. Rachael rolled over and soon found her favorite spot.

  “I love you, Rachael. Marry me,” Michael whispered.

  “Yes,” she said, closing her eyes.

  * * * *

  It was cold outside when Michael emerged from the tent. A fresh coat of snow covered the already-wet ground. Putting on his coat, Michael headed over to the chow wagon where Jake was dishing out breakfast. Grabbing a cup, he poured himself a cup of coffee.

  “Hey, boss. You want breakfast?” Cookie asked.

  “Not yet, Jake, thanks. Is Henry back?” Michael said, looking at the camper.

  “No, boss.”

  “Okay,” Michael said, putting his cup down.

  “Hey, boss. Mrs. Armstrong left this morning. She wanted me to give you this,” he said, handing Michael a manila envelope. Michael took it and walked back to the camper. Sitting on the end of the mattress, Michael opened the envelope. Inside were two deeds, a last will and testament, and a handwritten letter. Michael took the letter, and read it.

  My Dearest Son,