by Karen Anders
He was destined to be alone. He’d known that a long time ago. Safety and security were for someone with a normal life. Some other man who could give Jennifer one hundred percent of himself. He just didn’t know how to break the silence, breach that impenetrable wall. The silence was trapped inside him and he couldn’t let it out. He would hunger for Jennifer until his sorry life ended, which he surmised wouldn’t be too long from now.
He didn’t seem to care anymore. The fight seemed empty, for without Jennifer, the light would go out of his life. He dismounted at the barn. The ranch was quiet, eerily so. He looped the reins loosely at the corral gate, the hair on the back of his neck suddenly raised.
“Corey.”
His name was a whispered plea. Her voice filled with fear, love, and laced with dread. He whirled and his blood ran cold. Then in an instant his blood burned with a rage that terrified him.
Jay Butler stood with his beefy arm around Jennifer’s neck. His four brothers flanked him. The vicious look in their eyes told him what he needed to know. They had come here to kill him. He could see it in the depths of their cold, bigoted eyes.
Jackson and Clovis intercepted Corey as he lunged at Jay, just missing his arm by inches. Corey struggled with all his strength, but two jabs to his recently healed ribs took his breath away. He got back on his feet and growled low and threatening when he saw Jay’s hands on Jennifer, and he saw that if he put up a fight, Jay would hurt her.
Jay sneered. “That’s right, be good and we don’t hurt her too bad.”
“Jay, hurt her and there won’t be a place on this earth that you can hide from me,” Corey said in a harsh, raw voice.
Jay stepped back at the chilling tone, then said, “You bested us for the last time. You should have left when you had the chance.”
“Yeah,” Emmett said. “Now we’re going to mess you up real good, chief, and then have some fun with your half-breed-loving woman.” Stuart laughed at his brother’s remark.
Emmett grabbed Jennifer’s hair and jerked her head back. “You like breeds, bitch. Let me show you what a real man can do.”
Through the fear and desperation, her temper flared and without realizing the consequences, she reacted to Emmett’s vicious words. She had to give Corey a fighting chance.
With all the force she could muster, she lifted her knee, catching Emmett in the groin. She would not be a hostage to keep Corey in line. She realized with cold dread that they were going to kill them both. She saw it in their eyes. He let go of her hair with a painful curse, dropping to his knees in the dust, choking out the contents of his stomach into the dirt.
Then she bit down as hard as she could on Jay’s hand. When he let her go, she turned and pushed Jay into Stuart and when they staggered back, she ran. There would be no way that she would be used to hurt Corey, she vowed again, running for both their lives. Corey’s only chance to defend himself would be if she was out of the picture. She deftly slipped through the corral fence as quick as a flash.
Jay swore viciously. “Hold him here until I get her and bring her back. I want her to see him humiliated and begging for mercy.”
He charged after Jennifer and Corey struggled, but he was held too securely.
“Excuse me, gentlemen, but I would appreciate it if you would get your hands off our foreman.” Ellie’s polite words broke into the thick, charged air.
Five heads whipped around and five mouths gaped open as fourteen-year-old Eleanor Jean Horn cocked the rifle she was holding with a metallic, unmistakable sound.
“Now, now, little lady, you better put down that gun before someone gets hurt,” Jackson said, letting go of Corey’s arm.
“Someone will get hurt for sure, Mr. Butler, if you don’t let him go.” Her voice never wavered, her hands as steady as a rock. When they didn’t do as she asked, she pulled the trigger, hitting very close to Emmett’s foot. A smile curved her mouth when he yelped and jumped away. Very deliberately and without taking her eyes from Emmett’s, she cocked the gun again. “Let him go now or the next one will be extremely painful!”
When Emmett took a step toward her, Ellie smiled nastily and without missing a beat said, “Go ahead, Mr. Butler, make my day!”
A siren in the background caused them to back off. “Face down in the dirt and don’t move a muscle.” Ellie watched closely as all four of them lay down in the dirt. Thank God the sheriff had called her. Of course, he’d told her to hightail it out of there, but she couldn’t leave her mother and Corey at the mercy of the Butlers.
Corey turned and frantically searched the corral, his eyes lighting on a scene straight out of his worst nightmare. Jay had Jennifer by the hair up against the far wall of the barn. His hands were on her. In the corner, a large shadow moved and fear squeezed Corey’s heart. He was paralyzed, recognizing the shadow as it lumbered into the moonlight, its small dark eyes fastened on the movements of Jay attempting to strip off Jennifer’s blouse. Fury mixed with fear.
Jay wore a red shirt that looked even brighter in the moonlight. Unable to move, unable to breathe around the fear in his gut, Corey watched in horrified dread as the bull pawed the ground. A bull that Jennifer had had to single out of the herd because he was too aggressive. A bull that had to be isolated because he had killed other males. A bull that was the rodeo’s dream.
A killer named Marauder.
Corey let out a ragged groan as the bull charged, his bellow loud on the still air. “Butler, look out!” Corey shouted, but it was too late. Much too late.
Jay turned too slowly. The bull impaled him on his horns and threw him into the air, shaking his head and stamping around the ring in a frenzy of rage. Jay stood shakily on his feet, blood soaking into the red shirt. With a stumbling run, he headed for the fence, leaving Jennifer behind. Marauder stood still for a moment, then he pawed the ground, churning up the earth and nausea twisted Corey’s stomach. The scene was so familiar. With another bellow, the bull surged forward, hundreds of pounds of enraged muscle and sinew, death shining off the wicked horns. He gored Jay again, then in a rage trampled Jay’s broken body.
Ellie watched in stunned horror as the bull mauled Jay, and with a sickening feeling deep down inside, she knew he was dead, and with a frightening dread, she realized she was glad. She also realized that she would never be the same again, and that Tucker would never look at her the same again.
With the bull distracted, it gave Corey a chance. A very slim chance. He had time to save Jennifer. Jennifer’s eyes never left the sight of the horror of Jay’s death. A scream issued from her throat and the bull abandoned Jay’s body, his head lifting once again. Those small, black, enraged eyes locked on Jennifer.
Corey moved, not even knowing how he mounted Monster, not even feeling the horse leave the ground as he sailed over the corral fence in a breathtaking graceful leap, ignoring the jarring impact when Monster’s front hooves hit the dirt of the corral. With speed and agility, big muscles flexing and lengthening, the horse raced toward Jennifer at the same time the bull charged.
Corey leaned down low over the saddle, reaching out with his hand. Time seemed to slow and the far wall looked a million miles away. He prayed, something he used to do as a boy. Something he hadn’t done in a long, long time. Prayed to a God who had abandoned him in his need. Prayed as he’d never prayed before.
He reached her a split second before the bull, scooping her up and over the saddle with a desperate move that almost unseated him and pulled the muscles of his back. His hip burned and ached as if a hot brand were pressed against his flesh. The wicked horns of the bull missed the hindquarters of Monster by mere inches and the big gray horse, pale as a ghost in the light of the moon, sprinted toward the fence in a run for his life. The bull ravaged the barn wall with his homs, enraged at missing Jennifer, giving Corey a few more precious minutes to reach safety. Then, with another bellow, the bull turned and gave chase.
“Jennifer, hang on!” Corey yelled, knowing he was taking a big chance in forcing Monste
r to jump a fence with two riders. Jennifer was in a precarious position, he could lose her, but he had no choice. The stallion increased his speed, giving all he had in response to Corey’s urging. The bull gained, but with the extra burst of speed, the animal’s horns missed again.
Corey felt Monster prepare himself for the leap, judging the distance and the height, and then, as if the horse had grown wings, they were flying. Corey felt the sheer power of the animal throughout his body. The impact was jarring and he felt Jennifer slip, but she clutched at his leg and held on.
That night Jennifer sat at the window seat. Knowing now that it was just a matter of time before Corey finally left. Now that Jay wasn’t a threat, there was nothing to keep him here with her. She could feel the distance he was already putting between them. She wished she knew what to say, how to get through to him.
She’d seen him walk down to the paddock and lean against the fence, his head bowed as if the weight of the world was upon his shoulders. Her heart ached as she watched the light wind ruffle his dark silky hair, her fingers tingling with an uncontrollable urge to feel the soft strands. She watched him push it back impatiently, as if it was the thing that annoyed him.
She could see that he was in torment. Even now, his body looked ready to flee. She saw his muscles tense and he shifted, leaning all his weight on his hip. Then she saw him flinch and rub the flesh beneath his tight-fitting jeans. He was in pain and she fought back a knot of emotion that clogged her throat. With a fierce caring and an anger that was irrational, yet strangely justified, she continued to watch him.
He gripped the fence and kicked the bottom rail, then leaned his head against the top rail and her heart surged with so much feeling for this man she could barely contain it. He pulled a long knife from his boot and she watched him test the edge with his thumb. Suddenly something inside her went cold.
He grabbed his hip again, his muscles bunched and he moved away from the fence with that same graceful prowling stride she’d seen him move with countless times. Panic fluttered in her like a thousand tiny birds trying to get loose. She ran outside, later not even remembering her desperate run through the house. He was going to do something irrevocable, unspeakable. She could tell. He was going to the bunkhouse to destroy something in himself with the act and she wasn’t going to let him do it.
The slashed canvases flashed in her head. She remembered the pain that finding those had caused her. It was as if in his need to heal himself, he refused the means by which to do it. Countless times punishing himself over and over again. Spiritually, irreversibly, permanently.
Corey had stood at the fence replaying the bull goring in his head over and over again until his hip ached with the remembered agony. The destructive force inside him was restless and savage tonight. He wanted to hit something, crush something with his hands. He wanted her. She was all that was good, beautiful and bright. Color in a gray world. Vibrancy in a dull, dark void. Fulfillment where there was only dissatisfaction.
His hand gripped tightly around the handle of the long blade in his hand. Dark destruction was all he knew. It was in his genes passed from father to son. He didn’t want to be like his father. That was the deep, imbedded, innate fear that ate like acid, burned like a white-hot fire with scorching, searing, relentless pain.
He strode into the cottage, leaving the door open because as soon as this was done, he was getting on his bike. He was going to get far away from them both, before he hurt them, before they found out what kind of monster they had given their trust.
He stopped in front of the canvas and just stared at the soft brush strokes, the beauty of what he had depicted. The coalescence of all he had ever wanted since he’d first laid eyes on Jennifer Horn.
He stood before the canvas and felt deep, tortured pain and ruthlessly he squashed it. Banished it to somewhere else as he’d done as a child, though as an adult he knew that the pain never went away until it was dealt with. Later, he promised himself. Later, he would deal with it. Later, when all he had to comfort him were elusive, sensual memories of Jennifer, of holding her, of the sheer beauty of finding a woman he could be friends with as well as lover.
And always the dream would haunt him. And before him was the dream. His most coveted wish brought to aching life. His arm raised as he looked at the masterpiece that sat before him. He knew he was good, but that didn’t seem to assuage the dark acidlike pain. He was even better than his father. That was what he had told him. You inherited my skill. You inherited my weaknesses, as well. You’ll grow up to be just like me.
Just like me. He closed his eyes, fear rising out of a dark, deep fissure in his heart. With a clarity that was terrifying, he saw Jennifer’s face bruised and battered. His heart squeezed with tight, unrelenting agony. He stiffened and cried out, the picture shattering in his mind. Destroy this and destroy himself. He didn’t want to be like his father.
The knife came down and her hand closed around his wrist, stopping the very tool of his own destruction. “No, Corey.”
“Yes,” he said hoarsely, knowing that he could easily break her hold. He could easily hurt her with his superior strength. He could shove her away and continue to do what he must.
He didn’t want to be like his father who had hurt his mother countless times and who had beaten him, telling him over and over again how much he was like him.
“No, Corey,” she repeated. She didn’t look at him because she needed this unsteady anger. She knew if she looked at him it would dissolve along with her determination. Instead, she looked down at the first painting that hadn’t been slashed to ribbons. She looked down at true genius, true and genuine artistry. Smooth, masterful blending of colors gave the painting a rich, lifelike quality so that the people in it seemed real. It was the most beautiful painting she’d ever seen, touching her in a place that ached for him.
Tears scorched the backs of her eyelids. Scalding tears that wanted to fall. But she couldn’t...she wouldn’t let him see her this way. Calmness and tenderness were what he needed now.
She looked at the canvas again and was so very glad he hadn’t had a chance to destroy this painting. It was a beautiful replication of the three of them, and she smiled through her tears at the perfect copy of Two Tone sitting in Ellie’s lap. Ellie looked straight out at her, but the Jennifer in the painting was looking at Corey and he at her. His left hand was on her face and the turquoise band on the third finger of his left hand made her breath catch.
“Corey....” The sob caught in her throat. “This is what you were destroying? Why?”
His face twisted in pain and he bit his lip until it bled. “It’s fantasy, Jennifer. Just pure fantasy.” He looked like a wild thing, his eyes wide and unfocused. It scared her and she felt a chill. What would he have done this time after he’d slashed the painting? The thought sent shivers up her spine.
“This is what you want, isn’t it? To be part of us?”
“Yes,” he whispered, then in the next breath denied it, “No. No.” His anguished voice beat the air like birds’ wings and she heard the sheer desperation in his words as if denying what he’d just told her was the only thing that would keep him alive. His hair whipped around his face as he ripped his wrist from her grasp and knelt to pick up the knife. When he rose, the dark determination on his face scared her. He’d been doing this over and over again. Destroying his dream, his hope, and in that instant she realized how much he must love her and Ellie. How much it hurt him to do this. She couldn’t let him. “No! Corey, please,” she cried, and stood in front of the canvas, reaching for his face. Drawing him down, she kissed his mouth, tasted the coppery tang of blood, the stark fear and the seething anger. He tried to avoid her, but she held him firm. “I love you, Corey. Ellie loves you. We both love you so much. Don’t do this to yourself, please.”
He jerked against her at her words, a sob catching in his throat. “I don’t deserve you.” His voice cracked, his chest expanding in ragged agony.
“The hell you don�
�t. I’ve never met anyone more giving, more beautiful.” She kissed him again and tasted the salt of his tears. “I love you. I’ll only ever love you.”
“Jennifer,” he crooned, his hot seeking mouth capturing hers. A violent shudder coursed through him as her hands caressed his face, moving along his firm jaw, sliding deeply into his hair. “I can’t. I don’t know how.” His voice broke, the words rushing over her lips.
She grabbed handfuls of his shirt and shook him. “Of all the stubborn... Corey, what do you think you’ve been doing? You taught Ellie to barrel race, you held her on her birthday when she was upset over her father, you shared your own life experiences with her, you’ve supported me, stood by me, protected me and saved my life. You’ve fed Two Tone, you’ve taken us to dinner and the movies. What do you think all that is? It’s being a family.” She shook him again for emphasis.
He pulled away from her to look in her face. She could see how much he wanted to believe her. His eyes closed and his throat worked spasmodically.
Her hand clasped the one with the knife. She could feel the trembling of his body where her fingers were wrapped around his hand. She reached up and very gently pried his fingers from the handle of the knife. He put up no resistance. His hand stayed open as if waiting to be filled, waiting to be needed.
She dropped the knife, slipping her hand into his, and he closed his fist around her almost painfully. She drew him up the stairs into the bedroom and began unbuttoning his shirt. He didn’t protest. It was as if the fight had gone out of him, as if all of him had finally drained away into nothing.
“Jennifer,” he drawled softly, leaning his head against her forehead while she stripped his shirt from him.
Then she looked up and over his shoulder and her breath caught in her chest. Strong emotion clogged her throat with a rawness that left her feeling as if some protective layer had just been peeled from her body. It was another canvas, but the picture depicted was not of the three of them.
