Stepbrother Cowboy: A Western Romance (8 page)

“Shower’s ready for you. Do you want me to stay up and keep you company?” She just shook her head.

“You're sleeping in the bed tonight,” she said in a strange tone and grabbed a robe I’d held out for her. We’d stop at the big house tomorrow and get her some clothes. I mentally noted to myself.

Then it hit me, she wouldn’t need to be here after tonight.

“Shit.”

I sat on the edge of the bed for a moment in my boxers and T shirt then slid under the cool covers that smelled faintly of strawberries and vanilla. I would have smiled, but she wouldn’t need me after tonight. She wouldn’t need me to protect her.

The water stopped in the shower, so I knew she would be out soon.

I’d protected her the best I could, and something about her made me want to throw caution to the wind for the first time in my life. I was actually feeling a sob building up inside of me. After tonight, would she even feel the same?

I heard her in the next room padding around, getting ready for bed.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she said closing the door before I even realized she’d slipped in.

“Want to talk?”

“No,” she said, and in the blackness I could hear something hit the floor.

I felt her weight as she sat on the edge of the bed and put out a hand to comfort her, but stopped myself. I didn’t know if she was having the same doubts I did, and I didn’t trust myself to not be a blathering idiot in front of her. Guys are supposed to be tough; we aren’t supposed to cry, ever. That’s the way my dad taught me, years ago before he died. I was really working my inner self up to a great crescendo when she pulled the covers up and slipped in beside me, curling up to me.

Her hair was still damp, her breath hot on my shoulder but what had my mind frozen was the skin contact. I could feel her nude form with my arm; her breasts crushed around one arm as she tried to burrow into me, one leg sliding over mine.

“Alison…”

“Shhhh….”

“But…”

“If you hadn’t saved me from Tim, I wouldn’t be able to do this with you,” she whispered, nipping on me gently. She definitely had my attention and I could feel her nipples hardening as her breath came faster.

I rolled to my side, wishing like hell I could see, but all I had was vague starlight behind some drapes. I could see her eyes and the outline of her face. The first kiss was slow, teaching, yearning. It promised more to come. She let her hand wander over my body, and I sat there, enjoying the moment, knowing it was almost too late to turn back if I wanted. I didn’t want to turn back. Did I?

“He won’t hurt you,” I whispered to her.

“I know,” she pulled my shirt up, her free hand tracing and trying to tickle me. It didn’t work; I was lost in her eyes.

“So --”

“Our first time, so don’t go all 50 shades on me.”

“I won’t,” I kissed her and pulled the shirt off, as our bodies touched and she rolled on her back.

Gently, I felt the swell of each breast, rubbing the tip until she was moaning loudly, trying to pull my mouth closer to hers, but I could see now as my eyes adjusted to the dark in a desperate bid to see her. Her stomach was bathed in the moonlight, and her body was everything I had imagined and more. I took a gentle lick on her as my fingers caressed her sex, holding her down when I started to rub her nub as she gently bucked.

“Are you sure about this?”

“Yes.”

I needed no further encouragement and threw my boxers across the room, not caring where they landed. Alison’s needs were so great; she took me in her hands and almost pulled me inside of her, panting with each breath. I moved her hands away, wanting to watch, to feel and to see her expression. I wanted to see the love in her eyes I saw earlier in the tall grass. I pushed myself in slowly, watching her body tremble until I couldn’t hold back anymore.

“Please,” she moaned, her hips trying to rise up, to pierce herself on my flesh.

I pushed my way inside her, pulling her legs apart, feeling her wet sex pulling me deeper. Holding her hips, I gave her a few experimental strokes, relishing the feeling, loving to watch and feel her squirm every time I pushed my way deep inside of her. Her hands pulled at my sides and I leaned in to kiss her deeply. I cupped one breast with my hand, pinching a nipple as I started pumping faster. She moaned and put her legs around my back.

I reached down, rubbing on her wet swollen nub as her body started convulsing and her nails dug in, pulling me deeper as the orgasm washed through her body. I was close, but I stopped, pinning her in place with my throbbing dick. I was breathing hard and I wasn’t ready yet, but every contraction she had in her body almost pushed me over the edge. Finally I started to stroke my hips slowly.

“Does this always… Oh…”

“Yeah,” I kissed her neck as I started to build my rhythm up, knowing that as tight as she was, as turned on as I was… and let’s admit, as head over heels in love as I was, I couldn’t last long.

Our breathing synched together as we worked ourselves up to a sweat, every gasp, and every kiss making us closer and closer until I couldn’t hold back any more. Her body stiffened the same moment as mine, and I held myself still, planted deeply inside her, face down on the bed as she wrapped her legs around me and pumped me for a few more seconds, before letting out a heavy sigh.

“Oh god.”

“Yeah,” I said, my mind blown.

“Did we just?”

“Yeah.”

“Mom and dad are going to be pissed…”

We laughed a little before making love a second time, less gentle, more urgent. Somewhere in the middle of sleep there may have been a third time, but I might have been dreaming.

I woke in the morning to the smell of coffee. The bed was empty, so I padded out to the little kitchenette to see Alison in my robe; her hands wrapped around a mug like her life depended on it. I padded out in my boxers and mused that my life might soon depend on caffeine, so I grabbed a mug and poured myself a cup and studied her. Her eyes were looking out the window and when I looked, all I saw was everyday ranch stuff from the small window by the door.

“Tell me about your dreams?” Alison asked me.

“What do you want to know?”

“What scares you so bad that you cry out in your sleep? I moved the rifle because you kept reaching for it.”

“Losing friends mostly,” I admitted a lump in my throat. “Not being fast enough to stop a suicide bomber, having to shoot kids with AK’s who were shooting at me.”

“That’s horrible.”

“War always is.”

“Did you kill a lot?”

“Not as many as some. I wasn’t always right up there with the action.”

“But you did kill?” She asked and we were both silent. I nodded to her.

“Usually from a ways off. Only a few times from up close.”

“And it gives you bad dreams?”

“Yes,” I admitted.

She paused a moment, chewing her lip in thought.

“I guess that’s a good thing. If you didn’t have bad dreams, you probably wouldn’t care?”

“Yeah, I guess that’s right.”

“And if you didn’t care, you’d be some sort of monster, but you’re not.”

“I’d like to hope not,” I told her, hating to have this conversation now, but knowing it would have come out some time or another.

“Good. I don’t know if I could love a monster,” She wrapped her arms around me.

With those words, my heart soared. I’d just admitted to her the worst of myself, and she told me she loved me, is holding me. How could she love the part of me that was a monster? With what I’ve done, what I did. What I could do? I did feel bad with every kill, but in every war, there is always a shooter and I was one of them.

“Penny for your thoughts,” she asked me after a couple minutes.

“I’m just worried.”

“About Mom and Dad…”

“No, no not that.”

“Then what?”

“That everything with Tim, all the crazy stuff. Everything with the ranch. It’s either going to get worse or better. He lives, who knows? He dies, who knows? I honestly don’t know which one I want.”

“That’s a lot of guilt for one lady,” I said holding her close, almost spilling her mug.

“Kind of. It doesn’t help that I’m sore all over.”

“Quit riding horses all day.”

“It wasn’t the horse that made me sore,” she set her cup down and swatted me.

“Well, about that, you see…”

Her cell phone rang, interrupting what could have been some shenanigans of some sort. She told Jackson hello, yes we were going, and sure, we’d take him with us. She flipped the phone closed.

“That was Jackson.”

“I got the gist of it.”

“Come here and give me a kiss. I have to run back to the house and get clean clothes on.”

“Wait, I’ll come with you,” I said hurrying towards the bedroom.

“No, take a shower first.”

“A shower?”

“You stink like sex,” she whispered to me grinning.

“Yes ma’am.”

“Give me your keys; I’ll drive the Jeep back.”

“Pants pocket.”

“Which is where?”

“By the bed.”

“It was dark…”

“Hurry back,” I said walking into the bathroom and closing the door, hoping I just scored a point in the continuing game of irking her.

“Don’t think about last night while you are soaping yourself up,” she said, scratching the outside of the door.

Dammit! As soon as she said that, it was the only thing I could think of, and I let out a string of obscenities after I heard the front door close and started the water. No need to worry about hot water today. This morning, my shower was going to be cold. I finished as quickly as I could stand it. I stood in the kitchenette in a towel, lost in thought and sipping my second cup of coffee of the day when I saw Sandy walking up the path to the cabin. I had barely got my clothes on when she knocked on the door.

“Sandy, come in.”

“Thank you. Has Jackson been in yet?”

“No, we’re supposed to pick him up.”

“Oh ok. I wanted to ride in with you guys. This has to be so hard on Carl.”

My mind started spinning. Was Sandy the woman that Dade had been alluding to? Did Sandy and Carl Bart… I shook my head to clear the thought. Thinking about Carl made me think about his brother, the sheriff, which made me think about Karen. Everything in that train of thought went back in circles and reminded me of the bad soap operas and TV shows my mom watched when the weather was bad outside. Could she be the one?

“No problem. Alison is bringing the Jeep by, unless you guys want me to see if there’s one of the bigger trucks?”

“I’m sure your Jeep will be fine.”

“Ok.”

“I’m a little worried,”
Really?
This had my head spinning possibilities again.

“Yeah, if what happens with Tim today ends the problems the ranch is having,” I didn’t see that one coming, but I’d been thinking the same thing earlier.

“You think the tumor or whatever it is, caused Tim to go off the wall?”

“It did something to him, that’s for sure. Can I trouble you for a cup of coffee?”

“Sure, I have half a pot left,” I kicked myself for not offering. Hospitality went out the window when I started bunking 7 deep with a bunch of guys from all over the world.

I pulled a cup down from the sink and poured her some of the Columbian brew. She started drinking it immediately and we stood there for a moment, looking out the window.

“I used to be best friends with Tyler and Carl’s older sister. She died about twenty years ago. Drunk driver.”

I didn’t know what to say.

“Carl and Tyler changed that day. They became mean, or meaner than they were. I think it will break them if something happens to Tim.”

“But what he did wasn’t right.”

“We don’t know yet. If it was the tumor…”

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right,” I admitted, having the same line of thoughts myself.

“Those boys are the last in a long line of Bart’s. I think that’s why Tyler married that young lady.”

“Karen? Yeah, I don’t really think it’s a marriage of love…”

“He wants sons and she wants his prestige or perception of power.”

“Yeah, I think so. She was kind of bold at the party…”

“If you hadn’t moved your head, she probably would have accused you of trying to kiss her and would have made a bigger scene.”

“You saw all that?”

“As soon as that tramp walked in, I knew there was going to be trouble,” she finished her cup and handed it to me. I filled it again.

“Yeah, subtle isn’t her thing I guess.”

“Neither was Alison.”

“What?”

“You didn’t see it, but as soon as you guys left our side, she started cussing a blue streak,” she sipped her cup smiling at me, the wrinkles in her face smoothing out as she smiles at me.

“Yeah, about Alison. I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Oh? I expect you do. I could see it in your eyes.”

“Really? I thought it was the lack of sleep,” I wiped my eyes again and took another sip, killing the pot with a refill.

“No, at the wedding reception.”

“Is it wrong?”

“What, that two people connected somehow? No.”

“No, I mean, that she’s Bill’s daughter.”             

“I don’t think that matters to them actually.”

“What? How?” I was almost stuttering.

“After Jackson talked to me about the kiss, I had spoke with your mother.”

“Was she upset?”

“More worried that if things go sour, you’ll leave the family again.”

“I didn’t leave the family, I enlisted and…”

“You ran away. You pushed your family apart and then left.”

I hung my head in shame. She was right, and I deserved this. Still.

“I know.”

“Damned right you know. Now what are you going to do to fix this mess?”

“What? Alison or Mom and Dad finding out that we’re-” I cut the words off.

“Bah, they don’t care about you and Alison. Bill was smiling about it according to Meredith.”

I hated my mom’s name, don’t ask me why, but I never used it. The formal tone Sandy was using slapped some sense into me. She was usually as profane as the cowboys she helped raise and mother. She was and always had been Jackson’s best friend, and now I saw her in a different light than the zany matchmaker who worked in the mess halls from time to time. She was also a fixer. That’s probably why she loved matchmaking. It was a gentle nudge, fixing relationships and just caring for people.

“You mean about running away?”

“Bill told me a week before you got here, that he’d love for you to forgive him.”

“Forgive him? For what?”

“You don’t know?”

“Know what?”

“That he your mom and him never quit loving each other.”

“I didn’t know that then, but Alison’s been filling me in on all the details I missed out while I was being a shit head.”

“That’s why Jackson was so hard on you, you know?”

“Really?”

“Bill never wanted to be the bad guy. He can’t have kids, and when your mom left him over it, it almost killed him. Fate, god, whatever you believe in, brought them back together and he had a son. A son he’d never had before. A son he always wanted… So he asked Jackson to be the bad guy… Bill didn’t want to be the stepfather who was just filling in.”

“Oh god,” I wiped my eyes, knowing despite trying to never let it show, I’d just been hit by a baseball bat in the psyche, and the truth hurt, it hurt bad.

“I didn’t know he cared,” I admitted after a minute.

Sandy took me in her arms and I put my head down on her shoulder, trying not to cry.

“He always has.”

“I’m such an ass,” I told her shoulder, my tears falling freely.

“You used to be. Be the man you should be now.”

“I’m trying,” I said standing up, wiping my nose on my sleeve.

“And go wash that shirt, that’s snot you got on it, you little shitbag.” Her voice lowered into a growl and I laughed, heading to the bathroom, to splash water on my face. I did change my shirt, because seven years later, Sandy still scared me.

I was pulling the new shirt over my head when I heard the Jeep pull up, and rushed out to turn the coffee pot off and get my boots. Sure enough, Alison had driven it up right to the porch railing and Jackson gave a wave with his Stetson, before getting out and holding his hand out to me.

“Morning, boss,” I told him.

“Last warning kid, I’m not your boss,” he growled, but his eyes twinkled in amusement.

“Any word from Owen?”

“No, but he’s covering outside while folks are at the hospital,” I nodded and it made sense.

“You want to drive?” Alison asked me, getting out and holding up the keys.

“No, I think I’ll let you. Last thing I drove was about four and a half tons. Besides, I’m not used to all the new streets in town yet.”

“Got ya.”

“Ms. Sandy, I’ll sit in the back with tall dark and ugly if you don’t mind,” I said and scooted in before Jackson could swing his hat at me.

“I told you kid…” Jackson growled.

But we all knew what the jokes and mock anger was about. None of us particularly liked Tim, nor anything that he’d done as of late, but he was a son. A sick son. If it was the tumor that had been making him loco and twisting his thoughts, then maybe we should cut him some slack. We rode in silence for the thirty minute trip to the hospital. The mountains kept my view and I wanted to ask Jackson a thousand times what else happened yesterday, but didn’t. I figured I’d know more when the time was right.

The hospital we went to wasn’t the one I’d remembered, though it was in the same spot geographically. This was a modern monstrosity almost five stories tall, whereas the old one was only two. We walked without talking to the glass paneled front where there were two automatic sliding doors, the emergency doors further down the drive. There still wasn’t much parking, but I didn’t expect there to be much out here in god’s land where cows outnumbered people.

“Hold on Cameron, I have one more thing,” Sandy said, tugging on my elbow. Jackson and Ali gave me a pitying look then headed in.

“So, now that you know what’s really going on, how do you plan on fixing it?”

“I think it’s still the same answer I gave last night.”