"Mary Lou," gasped Rose.
She was in a sorry state, unkempt and dehydrated, and bleeding as she had taken a tumble and gashed her leg badly on some rocks. Hank carried her and sat her up in front of him on his horse.
"She's lost a lot of blood," he said. "We'd best ride back and get the doc to come out."
Mary Lou's face was grey. Her eyes were red and puffy. She had evidently been crying. In that moment, Rose felt a wave of sympathy for her. She reached out and squeezed her hand. "Mary Lou - it's going to be ok. We'll get you home and get you fixed up. Here - let me get you some water. You look parched."
Rose took her water bottle and put it to Mary Lou's lips. "Drink."
Mary Lou gulped it down gratefully. She turned her eyes towards Rose. "I'm so sorry Rose. I'm so sorry. Please forgive me, if you can," she whispered.
"It's ok," soothed Rose.
"It's not ok. I hoped... that is, I wanted you to drown in the creek. I'm a wicked, horrible person."
"But why? What have I done that you should hate me so much? I don't understand."
"I don't hate you. I was jealous. I've always been jealous of any woman who has ever looked at Hank."
"Jesus, Mary Lou. I've never given you any encouragement. There's never been anything between us, you know that."
Mary Lou nodded. "I know. I know. It's just..."
She went quiet for a few moments and then started to talk. Hank and Rose listened quietly as she spoke and learned that Mary Lou's mother had run off with a drover when Mary Lou was just seven years old, leaving her in the care of her father. But her father was a drunk who beat her and neglected her. He locked her in her room one day and he never came back. He had got himself shot when he attempted to rob a bank. It was a week before anyone thought to go check on Mary Lou. The authorities traced one of her relatives, an aunt, who was persuaded to take the child. But Aunt Martha proved to be just as bad as Mary Lou's father, and she made the little girl's life a misery. She had a succession of gentlemen friends, but the one she eventually settled down with was uncle Jim. He hated kids, and Mary Lou in particular, and persuaded Martha to send her away.
So Mary Lou ended up with yet another family. She didn't fit in. The children hated her, and she hated them right back. She learned to fight and she learned to hurt with words, and she also learned never to let anyone get close to her. The first person who showed her any real kindness was Hank. He found her after she had run away from an abusive boyfriend and he offered her a job and shelter at the Armstrong ranch.
"I'm messed up," sobbed Mary Lou. "I never had anyone you see. I was always the unwanted one, left out and unloved. In my mind, Hank saved me from all that, and I developed this obsessive love for him. Except it wasn't love. I can see that now. It was kindness. You did me a great kindness setting me on, and I repay you with this. I'm sorry. I'm more sorry than I can explain."
"You don't have to explain further," said Rose. "What a ghastly life you have had. I can understand more about you now that you have shared that with us."
Hank nodded, but said nothing further. When they returned to the ranch, Doc Johnson was called. Then, following a conversation with Rose, Hank got on to the sheriff's office and began to explain what had happened. Rose didn't intend to press charges. Hank Armstrong was liked and respected, and as he had promised to make sure Mary Lou didn't put a foot wrong in the future, her case was quietly dropped and filed in the trash can.
---oOo---
A week later, Mary Lou waited in the barn. When Connor arrived, he was surprised to see her holding the strap.
"You wanted to see me? What's going on, Mary Lou?"
"I want you to use this on me, Connor. I need you to lay it on hard and fast. I want to atone for the bad things I've done. I almost got Miss Rose killed, and I'm so sorry." Her lower lip trembled and there was a little catch in her voice.
"Mary Lou, there are some occasions when a spanking isn't called for, and maybe this is one of them."
She shook her head. "Please. Connor. I need it. You have to." There was a note of desperation in her voice.
Connor looked at her standing there with that pleading look in her eyes and a lump formed in his throat. Stepping forward, he took the strap from her.
"Very well, Mary Lou. But there are conditions."
"Name them."
"First off, I'm only giving you six. Secondly, after it's done, I don't want you running off. I want to hug you and hold you. It may have escaped your attention, Mary Lou, that I'm more than fond of you."
"Fond of me?" She was genuinely surprised. "Fond of me?" she repeated, stupidly. "I'm not sure I know what that means."
"Given your past, maybe not - but I'm going to show you, if you'll let me get close enough. I want you and I to be friends, Mary Lou, to start with. And when you're ready, I want more than that. I want you and I to have a relationship. We'll take things nice and slow and see how we go from there. How does that sound?"
Mary Lou looked at Connor. She had never really taken that much notice of him before, because the only man she had eyes for was Hank. But now, as she looked at Connor, she realised that not only did he have a kind and honest face, he was good looking in an understated way. He was tall and lean, his skin deeply tanned from spending so much time out of doors.
"You're a good man, Connor. I'm sorry I didn't realise before. And - if you'll be patient with me, I'd like... I'd like for us to be close. I'd love to feel I'm important to someone."
"You are already important to me, Mary Lou. I think we'd be good together. I'll treat you right. I'll never be abusive, but I WILL paddle that fanny of yours when it's needed."
"It's needed right now, Connor." Mary Lou turned and bent over the saw horse. Without another word, she unfastened her jeans and teased them down, followed by her panties.
Connor nodded. He did what had to be done. He grasped the strap in his right hand and brought it down sharply across her naked butt. It cracked down, the noise sounding loud as a gun shot. Mary Lou hissed as the pain kicked in, but she maintained her position. The second stroke landed a little lower, and a white mark appeared over her buttocks, which changed rapidly to red. Mary Lou squealed as it bit deep into her flesh. The third stroke had her crying out loudly in pain, and the tears started to fall.
Connor paused for a moment and then delivered stroke number four. He aimed lower down. The strap hissed as he wielded it and then there was a sharp retort as it found its target. Mary Lou sobbed, but she didn't complain. She was still sobbing as the last two blows fell, and then it was over. Her bottom burned as though she had been stung.
"It's all over now," said Connor. He flung the strap down and reached for her.
She looked up at him, tears streaming down her face, and then she was in his arms and he was hugging her to him and stroking her hair and kissing her cheek. He cradled her and whispered that everything was going to be well, that he would take care of her from now on. And through her tears, Mary Lou smiled and dared hope that from this point onwards, her life would be different, because now, she felt loved.
---oOo---
The day before the engagement party, Hank's mother arrived. Her name was Brenda. In her mid fifties, she was still an attractive woman, with shoulder length light brown hair and intelligent hazel eyes. Rose warmed to her immediately.
"Rose - I am delighted to meet you." Brenda hugged her close. "I have heard so much about you from the boys. And I can see for myself that Hank was right - you are beautiful on the inside as well as on the outside."
"I am so lucky to have found him. And I look forward very much to getting to know you," smiled Rose. "My own mother died when I was very young."
"Hank told me," nodded Brenda. "I can never hope to replace her of course, but I sincerely hope we can become close. I always wanted a daughter - and now I have you. We have so much to say to each other, you and I, but first, I have to see Isaac. Goodness knows how he will react, seeing me again after 16 years."
"I
understand. Hank told me a little about what happened. I'm so glad you're back. Isaac will be delighted, I just know it."
So Brenda walked back into the ranch that she had left 16 years before, and she knocked on the door of Isaac's study. Isaac was sorting some papers on his desk. He looked up and when he saw her in the doorway, looking just the same as she did back then, a look of pure delight filled his face. The next few hours were full of tears and sadness, joy and laughter.
Supper that night was a joyful affair. Rose hugged and kissed her father, and she even did the same to Sandra, much to Sandra's delight.
"I'm so happy for you Rose, I truly am. He's a lovely man."
"Thank you Sandra. And I'm sorry for being offhand and unwelcoming to you before. I guess I was a little jealous."
"Don't be," Sandra assured her. "Your father loves you more than ever and we are both over the moon about your engagement. I want you to be happy - just the way your father and I are."
Rose nodded and gave Sandra another hug. After that, she and Cindy got together and hugged and talked and laughed. Cindy demanded to be introduced to all the eligible men, declaring that by the end of her trip she would have landed herself a real live cowboy.
The next day was even brighter. At the appointed time, Rose walked down the staircase, hand in hand with Hank. Their guests waited at the bottom to greet them. Rose looked beautiful in her pink silk dress. She wore her hair loose and it cascaded to her waist. Her emerald pendant and engagement ring glittered. She looked stunning.
"Hi everyone," said Hank. "It is my pleasure to introduce you to my future wife, my English Rose."
For Rose, it was the beginning of a long and happy life.
My Texas Cowboy
by Abigail Armani
My Texas Cowboy is the second book in the Love on a Ranch series. The beautiful and talented Rose has it all – after an exciting whirlwind romance she finds herself engaged to Hank Armstrong, a hunky Texan alpha male with wealth, intelligence, charm, and rugged good looks. During the three months leading up to the wedding, Rose lives with Hank and his family on their large and successful ranch. The chemistry between the two is almost tangible – and Hank has no qualms about giving his woman a spanking when she needs one. Rose quickly settles into ranch life, forging a role for herself as well as getting to know everyone in this warm-hearted extended family. All goes well until disaster strikes the week before the wedding, as unbeknown to Rose and Hank, their movements have been observed by a sinister figure. Seizing his opportunity he abducts Rose, hides her in an claustrophobic underground prison and holds her to ransom. Hank is frantic; neighbours and friends join Hank and the sheriff to help in the search for Rose – but will they be in time?
We also have a parallel story developing between Hank's parents - Isaac and his estranged wife Brenda. It seems that love and passion are very much a part of life on the Armstrong ranch.
The day dawned bright and clear, at odds with the dark-clad figure who moved furtively between the trees. He moved swiftly yet cautiously over the grass, intent on keeping his presence secret, taking care not to step on any dry twigs and attract unwanted attention. He manoeuvred himself into a position where he had an uninterrupted view of the Armstrong ranch, and as he settled down to wait, his face darkened as malice and anger took hold.
It was only a matter of time before they stepped out, as he knew they would. He had quickly discovered their habit of a brief early morning stroll followed by ten minutes or so sitting beneath the cypress tree. His eyes narrowed with resentment as he watched them, the big handsome Texan and his girlfriend. He dismissed the man, and let his gaze drink in the sight of the woman. Even at this early hour, without makeup, dressed in a pair of frayed jeans and a pale yellow shirt, she looked stunning. Her waist length hair was the colour of a raven's wing, black with a faint almost blue sheen that sparkled in the sunlight.
Slipping the camera out of the case he carried over his shoulder, he adjusted the lens and took a few shots, capturing her lithe movements and the joy on her face.
"Bitch," he muttered, "I'll have you soon, you bitch."
---oOo---
Rose and Hank sat with their backs against the trunk of a massive cypress tree, the bright early morning sunshine casting shards of dancing dappled light through the canopy of branches with their clusters of feathery needles. The air was still, with the promise of a fine day ahead.
"I never used to be a morning person until I met you," mused Rose as she watched the interplay of light and shadow overhead. She turned and grinned at Hank. He had lowered his Stetson to cover his face. "Hey - are you asleep?"
"Asleep? No way." A strong firm hand reached up to replace the hat back on top of his head. He grinned at her. "Early morning is the best time of day. It's no time to waste sleeping."
"I'm still getting used to it," Rose yawned. Adjusting her position, she leaned forward and sat with her arms resting on her knees, gazing ahead at the Armstrong ranch. "Your home is beautiful," she said softly.
"Our home," he corrected, lightly brushing her lips with his own.
"You told me it was restored and extended in the 1980's, but when was it first built?"
"My great great grandpa built it back in 1882. It's been in the family ever since. We'll raise our kids here, you and I," he said, with a twinkle in his blue eyes.
Rose extended her left hand, splaying her fingers. The diamonds set into her engagement ring sparkled, and the beautiful emerald stone in the centre of the ring caught the light and shimmered.
"I've only been engaged for three months, and now I'm getting married. I can hardly believe it."
"You'd better believe it, lady," grinned Hank. "A week from now and you'll be Mrs Armstrong."
"I know," smiled Rose. "I'm looking forward to it - not just the wedding day itself, but what comes after it."
"A lifetime together." Hank squeezed her hand. "I'm one lucky guy."
"And I'm one lucky lady. I'm so glad I met you!"
"It was meant to be." Hank stood up and then took her hand and helped her to her feet. "After breakfast we'll be roping a couple calves out in the pasture to doctor them for pinkeye, then I'll be heading into town with Scott. Is there anything you need picking up?"
"No, I don't think so, thanks."
Rose took his arm and they walked back to the ranch. The heady smell of coffee and sizzling bacon was emanating from the open window of the big ranch kitchen. Hank inhaled the aroma and quickened his pace. Rose had to practically jog to keep up with him.
"That smells good. Hannah sure knows how to fix a good breakfast. Applewood smoked bacon, fresh eggs from the hen house - pancakes too, with maple syrup. And I'll have a strawberry waffle or two to finish off with."
"Hank Armstrong, you have one hell of an appetite."
"A guy needs his strength to keep his woman in hand," he grinned as he swatted her butt and led her inside to have breakfast.
---oOo---
After eating a hearty breakfast, Rose reviewed the finishing touches needed for her wedding. She chewed the end of her pen thoughtfully. It was time consuming, planning a wedding. The table was strewn with sheets of paper. There were lists of the flowers needed, lists of food to be bought in and prepared, lists of where their guests would be accommodated - and yet more lists of things to be done before her wedding day. The sheer number of chores to be done made her head spin.
Hank entered the room to pick up his wallet.
"I have too many lists!" Rose told him, throwing down her pen. "I think I'll go take a break and do some painting for a couple of hours."
"Sounds good. Have you finished the painting of Jupiter yet?"
Jupiter was Hank's latest stallion, a sturdy quarter horse with a lovely red sorrel coat.
"Not yet, but I've almost finished the new Palomino," said Rose. "I've decided on a name for her - Amber."
"That's appropriate," Hank nodded in approval. "It suits her golden colouring. How about we slope off after supper
and go for a ride?"
"Yes, I'll look forward to that."
After three months living on the Armstrong ranch, Rose was both confident and extremely competent on horseback. Although not a novice to riding, having learnt to ride in her teens back in England, she had not managed to get much practice in until she arrived in Texas.
"I'll race you - you big lump," she grinned.
"Oh yeah?" Hank's blue eyes twinkled as he swatted her rump. "Now that will be fun. Right, I'm off to find that brother of mine. See you later, princess."
---oOo---
Rose left her endless lists and went to her studio. It was purpose built for her by Hank, and it was perfect for her art work. Hank had configured the design to look as if an old building was converted to a current use, and the structure resembled a barn with a low sloping roof wrapping the east, south and west sides. The north wall of the studio contained large windows to capture northern light.
The space inside was light and airy and was filled with tables piled with picture framing equipment and canvas and huge pads of paper. There were drawers of paints and charcoal sticks, brushes and other art materials, and a big cupboard next to a large sink filled with brush cleaners, soaps, sponges, masking tape, spray sealer and varnish - and just about anything an artist could possibly need. A few easels and palettes were dotted around the room, the adjacent chairs covered in splotches of paint. A selection of similarly splotched smocks and aprons were hung on pegs behind the door. Many of Rose's drawings and paintings were framed and displayed on the walls.
Rose loved the place. It was her space, her very own creative environment. After talking to Hank about things, he was more than happy for her to do exactly as she pleased. They had discussed her taking on board some tasks associated with the running of the ranch if she wanted, with the remainder of her time devoted to painting - which suited her down to the ground. So while Hank was busy working on the ranch, she had decided that she would paint as much as she could and maybe sell a few paintings and take on some commissions. Because the Armstrong ranch had paying guests throughout the year, she had a ready made supply of customers who were more than happy to wander around and admire her works. She had already sold several large oil on canvas landscapes and had been asked to do more.
Love on a Ranch Box Set Page 7
