Tamed by Her Cowboy

by Shanna Handel

“She’s back? How long’s it been? Over two years?”

  “Only took a blizzard to get her to finally come visit her old man.”

  “She’ll come to her senses. Being home will be good for her.”

  And the one whispered question on everyone’s mind, maybe even mine; “Where do Ava and Buck stand?”

  We ride quietly through the town, winding our way up to the Castle. I can’t deny how beautiful this place is. How quaint our little castle looks perched on the hill. After the unsettling drive through the city-turned ghost town, I find the bustling streets, the singing birds, the fresh air and clean cobblestones, calming.

  Welcoming.

  I feel safe.

  The car’s tires crunch over the gravel as we enter the always open gates of the Castle. We pull up the hill, to the circular drive that surrounds a running fountain. A ten-foot winged angel with water pouring from her hands. When I was young, I named her Belle after my favorite childhood storybook character, and it stuck. I place my palm on my lips, kissing it, then blowing my kiss to Belle, same way I’ve always greeted her.

  Jules beams. “There she is, Redmond Castle.” She’s never hidden her envy of my lifestyle growing up. Even as a little girl, Jules was perfectly groomed and mannered with a deep love for Cedar Creek and all it stands for. We’ve always joked that it should have been her born within the walls of this castle.

  Not me. The tomboy with a sassy mouth, a partying streak, and bad attitude.

  Though seeing as Jules is the reverend’s daughter, switching with her may not have been a very good fit for my wild child ways, either. Further cementing my deep belief that I don’t belong here.

  But I’ll make myself behave. Enjoy my brief visit before the snow clears and I head back to my wanton life. The car rolls slowly to a stop. Pierre, the guard that’s been on duty since before I was born stands before the massive wooden front doors. His hands lie folded neatly before him. His navy suit is wrinkle free, fitting him a little looser than the last time I saw him. His hair has more silver in it, his face a few more deep lines.

  But his kind eyes sparkle at the sight of me.

  I turn to Jules, my hand on the car door. “Thanks for the ride. You saved my life, I guess, considering I’d probably have gotten snowed in and had to live off junk food for a week.”

  “Anytime. Always.” She gives my knee a farewell pat.

  “I’ll come see you tomorrow,” I promise, opening my car door. Pierre stays at his post. He’s learned over the years I don’t like it when he opens it for me.

  “Hang on.” Jules grabs my hand to stop me from going.

  I look back, reading the concern on her face. “What is it?”

  She lets my hand go. She looks away, fiddling with the lace on her skirt. “Nothing. Just…take it easy on Buck tonight. Okay?”

  Fat chance. He’s been creeping in on my turf when I haven’t been here to defend it. “No promises.”

  She gives me an exasperated look. “Be good?”

  “I’ll try.”

  “Good.” A look of relief crosses her face.

  “But no promises! Love you!” I flash her a wicked grin, grab my striped bag from the back of the car, hop out of the convertible before she can further ‘encourage,’ me, and make my way up the impossibly wide stone steps.

  Pierre greets me with a formal nod. “Welcome Miss Ava. So good to see you after all these years.”

  “It’s only been two, Pierre. But good to see you too. I’ve missed you.” As I walk by, I tip the brim of his cap, making it go cockeyed on his head. He cracks a smile.

  He grabs the wrought iron door handle before I can get to it. “Allow me, Miss Ava.”

  “Thank you, Pierre,” I say. I step over the threshold. The familiar scent of home overwhelms my senses. Stone, heavy carpets, fresh flowers. I drop my bag on the foyer floor. I cup my hands on the sides of my mouth. “Dad! I’m home!”

  When my father rounds the corner, nothing could prepare me for the shocking change in his appearance. In the time I’ve been gone, he must have aged a decade. When I left, he was robust, his spine straight, his shoulders broad. Now, he stands, his right hand wrapped around the head of a cane, his weight leaning against the long smooth piece of wood. His shoulders are hunched. His face, a map of lines.

  I feel as if I’ve been struck by a lead weight in the center of my chest.

  “Daddy?” I try to hide the surprise from my features, but my tone gives me away. Pasting a smile on my face, I move towards him, wrapping around him in a gentle hug. He’s frail in my arms. “It’s so good to see you.”

  “Sweetheart. It’s good to have you home.” His dry lips press lightly against my cheek. He pats my arm. “Step back so I can get a good look at you.”

  I stand back, trying to find a way to keep the concern from my face. But I can’t stop gazing at him, contemplating how much he’s changed. “I’m just the same old Ava Marie,” I try to joke but the attempt is feeble. He looks weak, tired, and old beyond his years.

  I’m shaken.

  His eyes shine with joy. “It’s so good to have you back, sweetheart. I was worrying about you. If we didn’t hear from you—”

  “I know. You were sending your henchman after me.”

  He smiles. “Still holding your old animosity for Buck Jones, I see?”

  I shrug. “Something like that.”

  “I know you two have had your differences but he’s a good man. My right-hand man and an elder in our community. I couldn’t have gotten by without him these past few years. Buck has a work ethic like none I’ve seen. I hope you don’t mind, he’ll be joining us for dinner.”

  “I heard. I was hoping to get some time alone with you…to catch up,” I say, hinting at getting Buck uninvited.

  “We have plenty of time to catch up, right now. Dinner isn’t till six and if this weather does what they’re predicting, we’ll have days to talk. I have tea being served in the study.” Dad reaches out his arm, linking with mine.

  “That sounds nice. I’d like that.”

  That familiar, painful look crosses his face, wrenching my gut. I know what’s coming before he says it. “You look just like her. You know that?”

  I choke back my tears when I see shining in his eyes. “How about that tea?”

  He pats my arm. “Come. You’ve got a lot of stories to share about life in the big city.”

  His arm feels weak in mine. Brittle. Weary. I pat his sleeve with my hand, sneaking a glimpse at his tired face.

  5

  Buck Jones

  I watch Jules’s convertible climb the hill while I picture myself pulling Ava Marie from the car and spanking her ungrateful ass till it matches the shiny red paint.

  She leaves for two years. Lives off her inheritance. Never once coming back to visit her old man. Spoiled, rotten, brat.

  Squeezing her trust fund, not lifting a finger while she wastes her brain on trashy television and social media. Just the thought of her posting pics of herself making duck lips and posing by her overpriced restaurant meals makes my palm twitch.

  I’m sure she whined to Jules all the way home about having to leave the city.

  Any feelings I had for her seemed to have evaporated after she showed her true colors, turning on Cedar Creek like she did. Leave me, fine. Move away? That’s her choice. But to never show her face here again until she needs our protection from a storm?

  It’s too much.

  I’m not going to befriend her but I sure as hell will make it my duty to reprimand her while she’s here. If she thinks she’s going to carry on her snooty ways, bad mouthing this town while it protects her from the elements, she’s in for a rude awakening.

  I’ve spanked her before.

  And I’ll do it again.

  Judging by her sassy mouth, it’ll be sooner than later.

  I picture her arrival, sneering up at me. And I want nothing more than to pull down her panties and spank her bare bottom till that ugly look is gone from her fac
e. I hate that she’ll be at dinner, ruining what is usually a highlight of my day.

  I push her from my head, focusing on my tasks.

  As a young boy, I always envisioned myself being the one to raise the drawbridge in a time of danger. Today is that day. Technology allows for it to be folded in automatically. I choose to do it the old-fashioned way—with a little elbow grease.

  I walk around to the giant iron machinery, releasing the catch on the crank. Putting two hands around the thick metal bar, I push with all my strength. The gears whir and clank as I turn. It’s slow going at first, but once I get the hang of things, I’m smoothly winding the crank over and then away from me, then pull it back towards me, the chain winding neatly around the wheel. The bridge begins to raise up from the ground, dust and dirt stirring in its wake. It lifts higher and higher, a massive wall against the blue stretch of sky, momentarily blocking out the sun.

  It locks securely into place.

  Drawbridge taken care of I walk around behind it to secure the iron gates. I tug on the heavy gates to close them. They make a grinding noise as I pull the heavy gates along their tracks until they’re closed. There’s a satisfying clink as they meet in the center. I head back to the stone gatehouse—a mini replica of the Redmond Castle on the hill—and order the computer to lock them.

  I’m grateful for this bridge, these heavy gates. They signify to everyone to stay in place. That, together, we will weather the storm. They keep my people safe. Cedar Creek is the most special place on Earth and I’ll do anything to keep it that way. Even if it means giving up my life to protect those I love.

  Despite my anger towards Ava Marie, an intense welling of relief fills my chest.

  She’s finally home.

  Locked up nice and safe within these stone walls. She has no choice but to be protected, my watchful eye resting upon her.

  Ava Marie Redmond.

  The princess of Cedar Creek. Had she not left, she’d be queen by now in the wake of the death of her mother. Living in her castle. Caring for her father, the man who was a child when his father built this magnificent village.

  She’s the bloodline of our town. People doted on her as a child. As a teen, they shook their heads. “That’s just Ava. Always getting herself into mischief.” But they forgave her wild streak, all of us assuming she’d grow out of it. That one day she’d mature. Come to her senses. Take her father’s place, leading her people and keep our way of life going.

  Instead, she disappeared in the night. Taking her trust fund with her.

  Seeing her—it made me question whether those feelings were still there. She looks a little different. The angles of her face more pronounced. Her hair is lighter now, the color of wheat. It’s pretty, but I prefer her natural dirty blonde. She still has the naughty glint in her hazel eyes. Same devilish little smile on her rosebud lips.

  Not even apologizing for making me wait.

  She’s self-centered. Not in a malicious way, just in the way that is her. She always was selfish. Letting Jules do her homework. Letting me do her chores at times. But there’s something about her free-spirited soul, the way she makes you smile and laugh, when what you really want to do is wring her neck. She’s fun. Adventurous. Always up for a prank, a midnight ride. A wild barn party.

  I easily forgave her selfish side because beneath it, the girl had a heart of gold.

  She was caring. Giving. Generous. Not that you’d know it the way she’s been acting.

  She used to be the first one to volunteer when we needed more hands on the ranch to bring in the harvest.

  She never forgot an elderly town person’s birthday, delivering a card, bundle of wildflowers, cookies she’d baked, or some treat or trinket for them while belting out her own take on the Happy Birthday song.

  She once spent three days and nights in the stall of a sick mare. Her arm slung around the neck of the beast as it battled to draw breath. Holding water up to its weak mouth. She left only once the mare had recovered and was able to eat on her own.

  She’d take care of the kids in town. Keep an eye on them. Entertain them. Teach them to skip rocks over the creek.

  It’s that side of Ava Marie that first drew me in. It’s what kept me coming back.

  Making me fall in love with her. My little bit of heaven.

  But that was then.

  I shut the computer down. Close the door to the gatehouse, securing it with my century old brass key. It opens all the doors in the town. It weighs heavy in my hand as I turn it over in my palm. A symbol of my responsibility to my people.

  I check the time on my phone—I’d rather not own one but today it’s proved vital for getting the girls back home. It’s now five thirty. Just enough time to go home, shower, shave, and make it up the hill for six o’clock dinner.

  I’m just hoping she doesn’t ruin it.

  As I walk up the hill to the ranch, I’m weighed down by the day. Getting the townspeople back inside our walls, being sure they were accounted for and safe, it takes a toll. I have a meeting to alert the night security crew of the new safety measures I’ve put into place in preparation for the storm reaching us, and a hot dinner beforehand will be much appreciated.

  I usually look forward to these evenings. Mr. Redmond is someone I have a deep respect for. We eat steak and talk about our favorite subject—Cedar Creek. Something Ava knows nothing of. She’s going to be there tonight, ruining the peace with her biting remarks.

  I get home. Shower. Shave. Check my reflection in the mirror one too many times for my liking. I run a hand through my longer locks. I’m wearing a light blue button-down shirt. Jeans. Belt. Boots. I succumbed to old habits twice today, once again applying a dash of the cologne I’ve worn since I was a teen.

  The same one that used to drive her wild.

  I get in the truck. Ride down the dusty ranch road. Over the cobblestones of Main Street. Up the gravel drive to the Castle.

  Park my truck right in front of Belle. The angel fountain she always talked to as a little girl.

  I greet Pierre. He opens the doors for me and I’m instantly struck by the first difference within the Castle. There’s music playing. It’s loud, but it’s good. Motown. Her father’s favorite. I walk down the long hall, turning into the formal dining room.

  My heart catches in my throat.

  She’s wearing a short, red dress, one I know all too well. One that brings an intense Ava Marie memory boiling to the surface—that last time we were together in the barn.

  She’s in her father’s arms, twirling slowly, carefully dancing with him. She’s laughing. And he’s smiling wider than I’ve seen in…well, a little over two years.

  I lean against the doorframe, cross my arms over my chest, and watch. She’s so beautiful. Light, carefree. The Ava I fell in love with. I swallow back the thought.

  She’s no longer that person.

  I’m dredged from my current of memories when a sudden pain crosses her father’s face. He slows, putting his hand on his chest. Her face falls, heavy with concern.

  I cross the room immediately. Take his arm from hers. Lead him to his seat at the head of the long mahogany table. “I think that’s enough dancing for now, Mr. Redmond.”

  Ava flutters by my arm, like a bird sensing an incoming storm. “Is he alright? Should we call Dr. Moore?”

  Redmond brushes away her concern. “No, no, sweetheart. I’m fine. Just the old ticker gets a hiccup now and then. Nothing to fuss over.”

  He takes his seat. We get him settled. The color returns to his face. I hand him his water glass. He takes a deep pull from it. As he does, his eyes lock on mine, passing his silent message. Don’t tell her.

  Ava misses nothing. Seeing his furtive glance, she grabs my arm. “Excuse us a minute, Dad, I need to get something from the kitchen. Buck? Can you help me, please?”

  Without waiting for an answer, she’s dragging me from the room. When we reach the hall, I pull from her grasp. “Make it quick, little bit. I’m not going to
keep your dad waiting for his dinner.”

  Her hands go to her hips. Her eyes flash as she looks up at me. Furious. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”

  “Watch your tongue when you speak to me. I’m not one of your rich kid friends from the city.” I give her a stare hard enough to raise a blush in her cheeks. She knows I’ll not tolerate her sass.

  She mumbles an apology. “Sorry. But why didn’t you tell me he was sick? I swear he looks ten years older than the last time I saw him.”

  An inkling of guilt runs though me, as if I’ve broken her trust. But it wasn’t my information to share. “Maybe you should have come home more often.”

  She throws her arms up in frustration. “I know, I know. I left. Didn’t visit. I was a terrible daughter. Does it give you pleasure to rub it in?”

  I soften my tone. “I just meant that you’ve missed a lot while you’ve been gone.”

  Her hands go to her face. “What was that thing with his heart just now? It seemed to come out of nowhere.”

  “He’s had…a few…issues. But Dr. Moore is on top of things and has your father’s health under control.”

  “What issues?” she demands. Her hands go to her hips. Her gaze focused on mine.

  I’m torn. Redmond asked me to keep her in the dark—to let him enjoy her visit without having her fret over him. But if I were her, I’d want to know.

  She’s staring up at me with those golden eyes. She’s growing impatient. But my loyalty to Redmond wins out. “He’s fine. Don’t worry about it. But if he doesn’t eat soon, then, we may have a problem.” I head back to the dining room, hoping she’ll follow without a fuss.

  When I enter the room, Redmond eyes me and I give him a nod. Relief washes over his face. He’s always shielded his daughter, maybe even to a fault. I’m glad to see Ava’s joining us. I stand by her chair, pulling it out for her.

  She gives me a quick glance. Smooths the material beneath the backs of her thighs, and slides into the seat. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome, princess.” I take the seat to Redmond’s left, directly across from Ava.

  She sneers at me. “You know I hate it when you call me that.”