Sweet Talking Lawman

by M. B. Buckner

  When he opened the door of the break room, the lovely teenage girl smiled up at him.

  Seventeen? Was she really that old, he asked himself? Was seventeen really that young?

  “Hey, Freckles.” He walked over and picked up the book she’d been reading. “What’cha up to?”

  “I gotta make a report on that. It’s gotta be the most boring book ever written,” she replied easily while she greeted Spur who was shoving his nose into her hand.

  “Your mom said maybe I could get you to take Mr. Noxious Gas Factory here for a run.” Rafe knew she was an avid jogger and she loved the big bulldog.

  “Have you got the toots?” she crooned to the spotted dog. “Has he been feeding you table scraps again?”

  Rafe chuckled. “Uci’s the guilty party and I don’t know what she fed him but since he ate it, it’s become lethal.”

  “I love running with him, Sheriff. He never pulls on me, he never gives out and all the boys at school think it’s so cool that I get to take him for runs. If I had the money, I’d pay you to let me run with him.”

  Rafe laughed as he slipped a ten dollar bill into her book bag. “My car’s not locked and his leash is in the side pocket of the driver’s door.”

  Watching the girl and the dog walking to the front of the building he was again amazed to realize that she was seventeen years old. He walked on to his office and closed the door behind him. Mesa had been just seventeen the time he’d walked in on her, stepping out of the shower in the upstairs bathroom at his home. His heart rate accelerated just from the memory.

  ^^^

  She’d come over to spend the weekend with Jenny and they’d been out working all day, helping move the cows from one pasture into another and separating some yearlings headed for the stockyard. He was home on leave from the Marines and had worked with them, enjoying the time to renew his cowboy roots. The girls had gone on to the house while he’d helped put the horses away and got the rest of the chores done. He was tired, dirty and was thinking about being shipped to the Middle East in a few days. He couldn’t imagine why he didn’t think about the girls having gone on ahead of him to the house, but he’d grabbed up his things for the shower, pushed open the door and walked in to catch Mesa standing there. Her body was gloriously wet, her arms raised, securing the towel around the long deep brown hair that she’d twisted up on top of her head, her full young breasts lifted so temptingly, her long tanned legs taking forever to reach the floor, especially since his eyes had stopped mid trip to observe another tempting sight he’d never even thought about seeing. He’d frozen and both shocked to see the other, she had, too. Unable to move or to look away, his eyes feasted until she reached for another towel and snatched if off the rack and covered her nakedness as best she could. Then his eyes lifted to meet hers and he’d watched a deepening of color stain her cheeks.

  “Damn,” he managed a soft growl as he backed out. “I’m sorry, Mesa!” Closing the door, he returned to his room stunned by his body’s reaction to the sight of her innocent nudity.

  Guiltily Rafe waited until he heard the two girls heading down stairs before making a try for the bathroom again. He showered quickly, and left the house, excusing himself from the evening meal with a white lie about going into town with one of the hired hands. When he came down the next morning the girls and Uci were gone to church. So he went into town to spend the day with Uncle John at the Sheriff’s office. Sunday night, Mesa had gone home and on Monday Rafe had returned to base, so he hadn’t seen her again, until he walked into that small club in Branson and saw her seated on a stool up on the stage, six years later. She was crooning a melody about a woman who’d lost someone she’d loved, and Mesa could sing!

  He’d ordered a beer and taken it to an empty table next to the small stage and just soaked up the sight and sound of the woman that his baby sister’s best friend had grown into. When her song was done, she never hesitated but left her stool and walked to his table. Music continued to play from somewhere but Rafe no longer noticed it.

  “Rafe,” her soft voice washed over him like a refreshing breath of Southern air. “I’m really surprised to see you here.”

  He nodded, standing to grasp the hand she extended. “I know the feelin’. I’ve heard you on the radio, so I knew you were singin’, but when I walked in that door and saw you…you could’a knocked me over with a feather.” Hastily he stood and pulled out the chair next to him for her.

  A tentative smile spread her full lips as she lowered herself into the seat. “Are you as shocked as you were the last time you saw me?”

  Instantly, Rafe’s mind filled with the memory of her standing wet and naked in the bathroom back home. He didn’t look away from her and although her cheeks flushed again, as they had at the time it happened, she didn’t look away either. “Damn near,” he admitted, the hoarseness in his voice revealing the effect that memory still had on him.

  Mesa looked toward the barmaid and held up a hand before she looked back at him. “You look good. Are you still in the military?”

  His head shook negatively. “I’m workin’ with the Marshal’s Service now. I’m on an assignment here for a couple’a weeks.”

  The barmaid appeared at Mesa’s elbow with a glass of iced water.

  Not sure what was in the glass, Rafe looked at the girl. “Put that on my tab.”

  She smiled at him and walked away.

  Mesa took a cooling swallow from the glass, then her green eyes joined her lips in a smile. “I don’t charge myself for water, Rafe.”

  He shrugged.

  “I not only sing here, it’s my place.” She looked around the room with pride. “It’s not a lot, but it means I don’t have to do road shows and it keeps me going. My partner and I lease the building.”

  He chuckled, “I guess the name, Howell’s Hideaway, should’a been a clue.”

  “But you didn’t connect it with me?” Her eyes reflected wariness.

  He shook his head. “Not really. I guess it did make me think of home. That probably had somethin’ to do with me walkin’ through the door, but mostly, I was thinking about a beer.”

  Her eyes dropped away from his face, to focus on the glass in front of her. “What do you hear from home?”

  “Jenny just had a baby. Uci’s still keeping up the home place with the help of Uncle John. Your mother is…”

  “Still the town tramp?” she cut into his sentence, her voice filled with bitterness.

  One side of his mouth lifted. “Actually, I was gonna say, is doin’ fine. Uci says she’s tryin’ to stop drinkin’.”

  Mesa’s dark brows arched in surprise and her voice dripped with sarcasm. “Really? I guess if that sticks, she’ll be on the road to sainthood.”

  Before he knew what he was doing, he’d covered one of her hands with one of his own. “She’s still a bitch, Mesa. I don’t think that had a lot to do with her drinkin’, and the drinkin’ is off and on. She still treats Rance like a hired hand, the way she always has.”

  She turned her hand over and clasped her fingers around the warmth of his strong hand. “So all these years I’ve placed the blame in the wrong place. Who would have imagined that? I hope being a bitch isn’t hereditary.”

  He liked the feel of her hand in his. Warmth radiated up his arm, coursing down through-out his body.

  “You look so good,” he didn’t intend for his voice to carry that husky roughness of desire, but it was there.

  “You do, too. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen anyone from home. Even listening to you talk is soothing to me, Rafe. I never dreamed I could miss Oak Ridge.”

  For a few minutes they just sat, holding hands, glancing at each other once in a while. Finally Rafe lifted her hand and looked at her long fingers.

  “No weddin’ band?” he asked.

  She shook her head, the long chestnut brown hair he remembered had been cut into a short, sophisticated, face framing style. “Never met anyone else that I cared more about than myself.
” A warm smile tilted her full lips up, separating them to reveal her white teeth.

  Her smile started a fire that warmed him inside and his laughter was soft as he pushed back his chair and tugged gently on her hand. “Dance with me.”

  Mesa hesitated for a second, but then smiled and stood up. As she did, a large man wearing a dark sports coat appeared at Rafe’s elbow. “Mesa doesn’t dance with the customers, cowboy.”

  Rafe turned and looked into the icy blue eyes of the man. “Who the hell…,” he started, but Mesa stepped between them.

  “It’s alright, Jory. Rafe isn’t a customer. He’s an old friend from Oak Ridge.” She smiled at Rafe. “This is Jory Madison, my business manager, partner and friend.”

  The sparks of anger that had flashed briefly in Rafe’s dark eyes, cooled and he offered his hand to the older man. “Nice to meet you, I guess. I’m Rafe Storm Horse.”

  The two shook hands and Jory returned to the position he’d held earlier, nursing a soft drink at the end of the bar.

  “Your bodyguard?” Rafe asked, drawing Mesa into his embrace as they moved onto the small dance floor.

  She smiled. “He wears a lot of different hats, but mostly, he’s my best friend.”

  Rafe’s hand settled against her waist as he led her smoothly along to the slow music. He closed his eyes and inhaled the scent of her. It felt so good to have her in his arms and their bodies moved comfortably in unison, as if they’d danced together for years. Rafe’s arm tightened slightly, drawing her closer. “This is nice,” he said softly, tilting his head down so his mouth was near her ear.

  Mesa nodded. “Yes it is. You know, I always had a crush on you while I was growing up.”

  He grinned, his straight, white teeth sparkling. “Really? I didn’t know. If I had, I might have asked you out.”

  She pulled her head back and looked up at him and smiled. “I wasn’t but fourteen or fifteen when you enlisted and left town and you had so many girlfriends you only saw me as Jenny’s little friend.”

  He looked down at her, his eyes wandering over her familiar features but stopping on her lips. “Well, that ended the night I opened that bathroom door and saw you standing there. I never saw anything childish about you again.”

  “This is the first time you’ve seen me since then,” she reminded him quickly.

  His arms tightened again, pulling her closer still. His mouth hovered near her ear. “Except in my dreams and fantasies. You’ve been a prominent figure in my mind since that afternoon.”

  “For real?” she asked.

  “Yeah,” he replied. “For real.” His voice had dropped a note and sounded coarse.

  Neither of them spoke for a minute, Rafe savoring the feel of her body against his and Mesa unable to believe that after all the years of him hardly knowing she existed, she was finally in his arms.

  She shut her eyes and tried to absorb the feel of his arms around her, one of his hands resting against her lower back. The other hand was clasped around her fingers, holding her hand against his hard chest and the heat of his breath feathered her hair near her ear. Heat coursed through her body. Her entire life, Rafe Storm Horse had been the standard by which all other men had been measured and none of them had even come close. His Indian blood reflected heavily in his features. It showed in his swarthy skin, his high cheekbones, his black hair and his penetrating chocolate eyes, but his classic, straight nose lacked the prominence reflected by many of his ancestry. His masculine beauty was tempered by the testosterone laden virility that radiated from him, but Mesa knew him also as a man deeply committed to his family and his country with strong values and a sense of honor. She’d never before experienced the need to seek a more intimate contact with a male body but now she was almost overwhelmed as he guided her through the slow movements of the dance.

  Good Lord in heaven, she thought, I’ve gotta slow this down a bit. A bit? A lot! Being in Rafe’s arms had her heart racing like crazy and she was totally overdressed in the heavy gown she was wearing. She managed to lift her head away from his.

  So,” she finally spoke. “Tell me about Jenny.”

  He stepped back enough to look down at her, his coffee brown eyes sparked. “Guess who she married.”

  Mesa tried to conjure up faces from her past. “She had an awful crush on Walter Cunningham the third. She called him Trey.”

  Rafe laughed. “That’s what he goes by now. He became a lawyer, and I think he opened an office in Liberty. Thank God, she did not end up with him!”

  “So who did she marry?”

  “She married Russ Barnett.” He answered easily, his smile filled with pride.

  Mesa’s eyes went round, her brows arched and her jaw dropped as she gasped in surprise. “Your friend Russ? You’re kidding me! She hated Russ. They couldn’t be in the same building without yelling at each other.”

  The music ended and keeping her hand in his, they walked back to the table and sat down again.

  He shrugged. “I guess all that yellin’ was all the pheromones sparkin’ between them. After you…left, she started classes in the junior college. Russ went into the Navy about the time I joined the Marines, remember? They didn’t see each other for a couple of years. I was able to be home for Christmas one year and Russ was on leave, too, so he came over to pay his respects to Uci and to see me. We went out drinkin’ and took Jenny with us. I got shi…plastered, so my memory was a bit vague, but it seemed to me that they just connected. Seriously, and when Russ was home again, they got married and she moved around with him until his stretch was over. When he got out of the Navy, they came home and he helped his old man run their place until his father died, so now Jenny, Russ and their little boy live in that big house with his mother. Jenny loves it and they could film a remake of the Brady Bunch there. All of them as happy as a cat with a bowl of fresh cream.”

  Mesa shook her head in disbelief. “I gotta agree that I’m glad she didn’t hook up with Walter. He was such a jerk, but Jenny wouldn’t even hear that.” She shook her head negatively. “But I just can’t picture her with Russ. I can’t get past the picture of them standing nose to nose, yelling at the top of their lungs over any and everything.”

  “Oh, they still yell. When they have a disagreement almost everybody in the county knows it. But when night falls…well, Jenny says they never go to sleep angry at each other.” He smiled, thinking about the happiness that glowed on his little sister’s face when she talked about her big strong husband.

  “I’m glad they’re happy. I guess I always knew that Jenny would marry a rancher. She loved growing up on the ranch.” She hesitated, but then tossed her head with an air of dismissal. “I thought I might, too, but not where my mother lived. I could never have survived there.”

  Rafe squeezed her fingers gently. “Is she the reason you left?”

  Mesa frowned, the action knitting a furrow across her forehead. “Not directly. She had a new boyfriend that couldn’t keep his hands to himself. He wanted to give me something really special for my graduation. She was passed out drunk in her room, Uncle Rance was, of course, at his house and couldn’t help me. I kneed the s.o.b. in the groin and when he dropped, his head hit the edge of the dresser. I thought he was dead. I took all his money, all of Mama’s that I could find, threw a few clothes in a bag, took my dad’s old guitar and ran. I didn’t know I hadn’t killed him for weeks. When I got a job in Richmond, I went to the library and used the computer to see what I could find out and couldn’t find anything on it, so I assumed then, that he hadn’t died.”

  Rafe was shocked at what had happened to her. “I’m so sorry, Mesa. Someone should have been there to help you. Why didn’t you call Jenny? You know Uci would have looked after you. Hell, when I got home I probably would’ve killed him!”

  She smiled and shrugged. “I was young and scared. It’s all water under the bridge, Rafe. None of us can turn back the clock or change the past. It’s best just to move on. Who’s to say that things didn’t work
out for the best?”

  He lifted his free hand and one finger stroked her cheek gently. “Jenny missed you.”

  “I missed her, too. Still do. When you get home, you’ve gotta give her my address. I’d love to reconnect with her.” She pushed her chair back. “I have to do another song. Will you stay? I’d really like to visit with you some more.”

  He nodded and reluctantly released her hand. “I’ll be right here.”

  His eyes followed the movement of her slender body as she moved up the steps to resume her seat on the stool. He couldn’t ever remember seeing Mesa in a dress before and he wasn’t sure if what she was wearing was even called a dress. That sparkly, deep plum, red material wrapped her body close from her throat down to her toes not showing an inch of skin to fuel a man’s imagination, but on her, it looked sexy as hell. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He really needed to get a grip on himself. He couldn’t help remembering the sight of her glistening wet body standing in the bathroom and knew he should be ashamed of the way it still affected him. She’d been just a kid. Someone he’d watched grow up along with his sister. But after that one glimpse of her, he’d never been able to think of her as anything except a tempting woman.

  Her voice was lilting, haunting, immersing him in memories. Rafe wasn’t aware of time passing. The only thing in his universe was the woman on the stage and the sound of her voice. When the song ended, he watched as she crossed the room and spoke to Jory sitting at the bar. When she straightened and walked toward him, he had to concentrate to remember to breathe.

  She paused beside his chair. “Rafe, have you eaten supper?”

  He shook his head negatively and stood up. “Can we go somewhere? I’d love to buy you supper.”

  “How about I cook you something?” she asked, smiling. “I have an apartment upstairs and it’s been a long time since I cooked a meal, but I bet I can throw something together, or maybe we can order a delivery. I’m finished for the night down here and we can visit as long as we want.”