The Horseman

by Anna Jeffrey

  Sarah laughed. “Well, you know me. I’m loaded with free advice on stuff that’s none of my business.”

  Tiffany finally laughed, too. “I really do have to go. Daddy will have a search party out looking for me.”

  With any other woman Tiffany’s age, Sarah would think it odd how protective Tiffany’s dad was. She walked with Tiffany to the front door. To Sarah’s relief, they had moved past her big mouth. Tiffany Fisher was the only friend Sarah had, too.

  Before stepping outside, Tiffany drew a deep sniff. “Sarah, do you think that horse whisperer guy is hot?”

  Where the hell had that come from? Was he hot? Hah! He had pushed every one of Sarah’s buttons and given her an odd fluttery feeling in her stomach. She had lived her life and survived by gut-feelings, but she hadn’t had one about a guy since Justin.

  But Mr. Rattigan was practically a celebrity who probably had a harem. Waaay out of her league.

  “Sure. Who wouldn’t?” She opened the door. They stepped outside onto the porch that wrapped around two sides of Hatch’s old wood frame house that was badly in need of paint. “He’s got a Latino look about him. He reminds me of that actor that was in CSI. What’s his name, Adam Rodriguez?”

  “Oh, yeah. He does look like him. He was in Magic Mike, too. I’ve watched that movie about ten times.” Tiffany’s tears, Sarah was happy to see, had been replaced by glistening brown eyes and a red nose. “But I don’t think Mr. Rattigan is Latino. Daddy says he’s Bill Lockhart, Jr.’s son and the Lockharts are as Scots-Irish as they come.”

  “Who’re the Lockharts?”

  “You’ve never heard the name Lockhart? They’re one of the richest families in Texas. They own this huge ranch east of here and oil wells. And some other small ranches, too. They’re richer than rich.”

  “But his name isn’t Lockhart. And he still looks like he’s part Mexican.”

  “Daddy says he’s a Lockhart bastard. He’s Bill Lockhart Junior’s son with a Mexican woman he wasn’t married to.”

  “Mr. Rattigan? You’re shitting me. He looks like he’s rich. Look at his rigs, his clothes, the way he acts. He looks like he never has to worry about anything. He looks...well, rich.”

  “Daddy says he’s rich not just because he’s a Lockhart. He’s made a lot of money on his own in the stock market. No one can figure out why he runs around doing horse clinics and training horses. Louise told me he’s even written some books about horses.”

  “I know. She’s given them to Wyatt. Maybe he likes what he’s doing. How does your dad know that kind of stuff about him?”

  “I don’t know. Daddy just knows things.”

  “Why’d you ask if I think he’s hot?”

  “I saw him watching you.”

  Impossible. Sarah shook her head. “I doubt that. He’s probably married.”

  “No, he isn’t. One of the women at the clinic this morning said he’s single.” Tiffany giggled. “She said he could eat crackers in her bed any time.”

  Sarah couldn’t hold back a laugh. The whole time she had been away from Texas, she hadn’t heard that silly old saying. “Lord, Tiffany, I never saw anybody who can drag information out of people the way you do.”

  “Really, I saw him looking at you several times and I think he even searched for you with his eyes when he thought no one was looking.”

  Sarah gave her a look and a gasp. “Get out. You need a boyfriend worse than I do. Do you think he’s hot?”

  “Well, yes, but I’m not looking for a new boyfriend. Burke still might—”

  “Unh-unh, Tiffany.” Sarah waved her finger like a pendulum. “Not happening. You gotta stop thinking about Burke the Jerk coming back. And even if he did, I’d have to kick your butt if you took him back.”

  “I was thinking about you. Your husband’s been gone for over three years and—”

  “Don’t go there, Tiffany. I’ve already been to a rodeo or two. When it comes to buckle bunnies, horse shows are no different from rodeos.”

  Sarah’s throat thickened as a powerful longing coursed through her. Her PRCA calf roper husband, Justin Karol, might be three years gone, but she still thought about him, still missed him—his crazy Polish customs, the way he would wrap both his strong arms around her and crush her against his big body, his laughing blue eyes that were so light they were almost colorless. His last day on earth, they had laughed and said when they had kids there was no question what color their eyes would be.

  A rodeo or two? In truth, she had been to a rodeo or a hundred, sitting in the bleachers watching Justin rope. Or hanging out behind the chutes helping him get ready to rope. Or watching him practice roping hours on end so he would get better at roping. Even after he earned PRCA standing, she had still seen every show unless something drastic kept her away.

  “Let me tell you about cowboys like that horse whisperer. He’s probably been to a thousand horse shows. And if he’s a winner and got money? I guarantee you he’s lost count of all the buckle bunnies who’ve laid down for him. Even if he gave me a look—which he wouldn’t really, ’cause I’m not exactly in his social class—after all that’s happened to me, do I need somebody like that in my life? Do I need any guy in my life?”

  “You haven’t even gone out on a date since you came back to Texas.”

  “Who would I go on a date with and where would I go? All the good ones my age left Roundup a long time ago. Besides that, when would I go out? I’ve been too busy to worry about it.

  Chapter 6

  A presence startled Pic awake, accompanied by his wife’s distinctive scent, a kiss on his cheek and her soft voice. “Hi, sweetie. Pleasant dreams?”

  “Hey, baby. Where ya been?” He grasped her arm and at the Sarah time, lowered the footrest on the recliner. His dick had already begun to swell. This morning, he had left so early, they’d had no time to indulge his morning call. He pulled her onto his lap, she wrapped her arms around his neck and they shared a long deep kiss. Her mouth and tongue tasted like the spearmint gum she often chewed.

  She lifted her lips from his and giggled, squirming against his lap. “Feels like you’re glad to see me.”

  “I’m always glad to see you.”

  Her soft hands cupped his face and she kissed him again. “I missed you this morning.” Her voice lowered and she spoke near his ear. “I woke up all horny and you weren’t there.”

  He couldn’t hold back a grin. His Mandy liked sex as much as he did and they had moved past most of her inhibitions.

  “I almost had to call on BOB,” she added.

  BOB. Shit! He hated her damn vibrator. It was a pink plastic thing that that felt like Jell-O and looked like a sick, deformed dick. Attached layers of plastic that looked like butterfly wings shimmied all over when you turned it on. He gave a low growl. “You know what I think of your battery-operated boyfriend....All horny, huh? Well, darlin’ I’m here now and hard as a fence post.”

  She chuckled softly and kissed his lips. “You don’t have to be jealous of BOB. I told you, I only needed him when we were going six months without seeing each other. I stuffed him in the bottom of a drawer a long time ago. He doesn’t come close to the real thing.”

  He also hated that she referred to the thing as if it were a person.

  She began to finger-comb his hair. “Your hair’s messed up. You must have been wearing your hat all day. How was your ride?”

  “My butt will be sore tomorrow. I’m out of shape. I need to ride more.”

  They kissed again, a deep French kiss with a sexual rhythm. “Yum,” she said when they broke for breath. He dragged his mouth down her neck, inhaled the fragrance she wore. “Damn, baby, you’ve got on too many clothes.” He went for the tail of her shirt.

  She grabbed his wrist. “Don’t take it off. Johnnie Sue—”

  “I won’t.” He freed his wrist from her grip, slid his hand underneath the shirt and cupped her breast. It was covered by a layer of lace, but he still felt her nipple firming against his
palm. He rolled his thumb back and forth and it hardened even more. He moved his hand behind her, unhooked her bra and filled his hand with her soft flesh. “Hmm.”

  “You’re getting awfully fresh. If it weren’t so early, I might try to lure you into our bedroom.”

  His erection pressed against his zipper. He gingerly plucked at her nipple with his fingertips, loved feeling it grow longer still. “I wouldn’t need to be lured. I’d go willingly.” He placed his mouth near her ear. “We’ve got the house to ourselves. Dad’s in the wind. Johnny Sue will be going home pretty soon. We could do an encore of Thursday night on the pool table.”

  She gave an intimate giggle. “Pic, shh. Johnnie Sue might hear you.”

  He sat back, pushed her shirt up, exposing her breasts. “Lord, you’re beautiful, Mandy.”

  Her tits weren’t big, but they were definitely more than a mouthful and she had the most amazing nipples. If he played with them, he could make them extend more than an inch. They were so sensitive, he had sometimes made her climax just by teasing them. The one that had his attention was extended at the moment and had turned to a deep rosy color. He kissed it, gingerly nipped it with his teeth, then soothed it with long, wet licks.

  She gave a little moan and arched her back, giving him both breasts to feast on. “Don’t stop. I’ve got two, you know ...”

  “How was school today?” He dragged his mouth to her other breast.

  “Dull, compared to now. ... I left early.”

  He closed his mouth over her nipple and sucked.

  Her fingers gripped his shoulders. “That feels so good. Don’t stop....”

  He was more interested in what was happening inside his briefs than in what she was saying about school, but he managed a “Why?”

  He drew her soft flesh deep into his mouth and pressed her nipple against the roof of his mouth, sucking it hard and teasing it with his tongue and teeth.

  “Ooohh...oooh, Pic...”

  “That make you come?”

  “You know it will. I feel it inside me when you do that...”

  His cock was about to jump out of his jeans. “Jesus, baby, that’s where my cock wants to be. Lift up and turn around.”

  If he maneuvered her into the right position and pulled one leg of her pants off, they could fuck in this chair. They had done it before. She turned on his lap, pressing her back against his chest, enabling him to slide his hand under the elastic waistband of her pants.

  Her hand grabbed his wrist and stopped him. “Just be careful, okay? Johnnie Sue’s in the kitchen. ...”

  “Baby, Johnnie Sue knows we fuck. ...”

  “But...but...but she doesn’t need to watch us.”

  He wriggled his wrist free of her grip and pushed his fingers between her legs, felt her panties wet and warm. A low growl left his throat. “Spread your legs a little, baby.”

  “If Johnnie Sue comes in here...”

  Despite her protests, she hooked one leg over the arm of the chair. He had seen her naked in this very position in this very chair. He pictured her now, her sex open and showing its pink petals glistening with moisture. He forced himself to go slow, carefully stroking the slick layers with his fingertips. Her woman’s scent rose to meet his nostrils. He placed his lips near her ear again. “Man, oh man. You’re so ready, baby.”

  He eased the crotch of her panties aside, slid his finger between the swollen lips of her sex, tenderly parted and stroked her deepest layers, circled the critical area without touching it, gently rubbed and played with the little hood that protected it. At the Sarah time, he slid his other hand under her shirt again and played with her nipple. She made noises that he loved to hear and tried to wriggle and maneuver herself to feel his fingers where she wanted them. “Pic....Don’t be mean...”

  He kissed her neck. “Me?...Mean?...” He moved his middle finger to her opening, found it wet and contracting, begging to be filled. He pushed his finger inside her, slowly massaged her vaginal walls. “Is this mean?”

  She made a keening sound. “Nooo...”

  He pushed his finger deeper. “Just be still now...”

  She obeyed, her breathing audible. He moved his finger in a circle and placed his lips near her ear again. “Tell me what you want...”

  “You know,” she breathed. ... “That place...”

  He slid another finger inside her and at the same time, touched her clit with his thumb. Instantly, her hot sheath grabbed his fingers and her body tensed. “Pic,” she squeaked. ... Oh, God, Pic. ... But Johnnie Sue—”

  “Shh-shh. Baby, she won’t come in here. Be still a minute. Let me—” He pressed her clit more firmly as he continued to move his fingers inside her.

  With his free hand, he cupped her breast and held her in place, curved his fingers inside her, rubbing the front of her vaginal wall ... seeking ... seeking ...

  Her body began to tremble. “Oooh ... oooh ...”

  “Ahh, there it is ...” He pinched down on her nipple, added pressure against her clit with his thumb, rubbed inside her in quick little circles. All at once, her body stiffened, her fingers dug into the chair arm and she began to make little grunts she tried to subdue. “OhGod. ... OhGod... Pic! ... Pic, I’m going to come ...”

  I know, baby. I know. He couldn’t keep from smiling. Before she could call out loud enough to bring Johnnie Sue running, he turned her head toward him and filled her mouth with his tongue. She sucked it frantically. Her hips bucked, her pussy squeezed his fingers in a hard, fast rhythm and she screamed into his mouth.

  Then it was over for her, but he was fighting not to go off in his briefs. He yanked his hand out of her pants. Whining like a puppy, she turned in his lap and was all over him, pressing herself close to him and covering his face, his throat and neck with open-mouthed kisses like she always did after she’d had a hard climax. “Oh, Pic ... I just ... you’re just ...”

  “Mandy, Mandy. My sweet baby.” He held her close. If they were in bed, he would bury his dick inside her and make her come again. “You know I like it when I can make you come like that. You like it, too.”

  She sniffed and gave a little laugh. “I’m thinking about what we did on that damn pool table. Sometimes I wonder if there’s something wrong with me.”

  She hugged him and kissed him, then sat up and began straightening her clothes. After she had put herself back together as best she could, she looked at him. “I need to talk to you.”

  He shifted his position, seeking comfort. “Right now? Let’s talk in bed. I’m about to bust. I want—”

  “But I need to tell you this.”

  “What is it?”

  “I left school at noon today to go up to Camden. I had an appointment with a gynecologist.”

  Pic’s heart made a tiny leap. His erection shriveled. Fuck! Was she pregnant?

  He thought she had already been to a gynecologist in Fort Worth. Two, even. If she had mentioned seeing yet another one, he didn’t remember it. “I thought you’d already done that.”

  “Shannon likes her OB doctor so much, I thought I’d go see her. Another opinion doesn’t hurt. I’ve been thinking about it for quite a while. Her schedule is so full, normally, I’d have to wait for an appointment, but I guess since it’s so close to the holidays, she had an opening.”

  She wasn’t pregnant. Thank God. Pic breathed a silent sigh of relief, for which he felt guilty. Having a baby had become an obsession with her, but he was a long way from being on the same page. The fact was, he hadn’t even started the book. Every month, he sweated the start of her period. A few times, when she thought the time was right, he had given serious thought to sabotaging the process then felt ashamed of himself, but he could never let her know any of that.

  It wasn’t that he disliked kids. It wasn’t that he didn’t want any, but he wasn’t ready right now. He was just now starting to feel comfortable and confident in his job as general manager of the vast Double-Barrel Ranch. Taking on kids on top of that required some working up t
o. “Shannon’s sawbones is a woman?”

  “You know that.”

  In fact, Pic did not know that. He had too many other things on his mind to pay attention to those kinds of details, like being sure everything was ready for calving that would start in a few weeks. For the first time since Dad had handed him the reins, that huge responsibility would rest entirely on his shoulders. A fuck-up on his part could cost the ranch tens of thousands of dollars. “What did she say?”

  “She said she doesn’t find anything wrong with me. She wants us to make an appointment to see her together.”

  “Now, Mandy—”

  “Not this week. I know we’ll be too busy.”

  “Look, busy or not, I don’t want to see a woman doctor to discuss sex.”

  “It isn’t about sex, Pic. It’s about. ... It’s about problems conceiving.”

  “That isn’t sex?

  Mandy gave a huff. “You know what I mean. I know you’re old-fashioned about a lot of things, my love, and you know more about cows giving birth than women, but she’s a good doctor.” She placed her hand on his shoulder and looked into his eyes. “She’s very easy to talk to, Pic. But going to see her in particular isn’t that big a deal. We can go see some male. I’ll find someone else.”

  “And what’s some doctor, male or female, supposed to tell me?”

  “Pic, are you deliberately being obtuse? We’ve talked about this. I’m trying to find someone, anyone, to tell us why I don’t get pregnant.”

  Pic groaned and rubbed his forehead as if he could erase this conversation with his fingers. “Awww, Mandy. Do we have—”

  “You don’t want to know, you don’t care, what?” Her glare came down at him, hotter than the September sun.

  “You know how I feel. I’d rather let nature take care of it.”

  “And what if nature’s doing a damn poor job? My God, Pic, we’ve practically worn out the mattress on our bed. Your dad tells the people in town that all we do is screw day and night. I hear it at school. The whole faculty is holding its collective breath, waiting to hear me announce that I’m expecting.”