Carnal Harvest

An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication

www.ellorascave.com

Carnal Harvest

ISBN 9781419917851

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

Carnal Harvest Copyright © 2008 Robin L. Rotham Edited by Sue-Ellen Gower.

Photography and cover art by Les Byerley.

Electronic book Publication September 2008

With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.

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This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.

language and descriptiveness in these works of literature.

CARNAL HARVEST

Robin L. Rotham

Trademarks Acknowledgement

The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
Deliverance
:
Warner Bros. Entertainment, Inc.

Gunsmoke
: CBS Broadcasting, Inc.

Tiffany: Tiffany & Company

Tylenol: Tylenol Company, The

Ziploc: S. C. Johnson Home Storage, Inc.

Carnal Harvest

Dude, how would you like to fuck my wife?

Hake Stivers grimaced as he pushed open the storm door and stepped onto the porch. Nah, that was a little too in-your-face. Besides, at thirty-eight, he wasn’t young enough, blond enough or cool enough to be calling his cousin
dude
.

Maybe,
So Brent, do you think Mandy’s sexy?

He rolled his eyes. What was Brent supposed to say to that? The guy was damned if he thought she was and damned if he didn’t.

Yanking the bill of his seed cap down to shield his eyes against the late morning sun, Hake looked out over the yard. The winds had already stripped most of the pale yellow leaves from the towering maples his dad had planted before he was born, and if the forecast was to be believed, the rest probably wouldn’t make it through the weekend. Come tomorrow afternoon, a big chunk of South Dakota would be under a high-wind warning.

The drone of the air compressor told him Brent was in the machine shed, powering the dirt and chaff off the combine. He could also hear Joe coming up the gravel drive with the semi. The line at the co-op must not have been too long, for a change. There were only a dozen or so rounds of corn left to harvest last night when the guys packed it in, and if the co-op had been open later, they could have finished up then instead of this morning.

God damn it, this all felt so wrong. Here it was, the last day of harvest, and he hadn’t even set foot in the combine, much less done any harvesting. It was a first for Hake, and one he wasn’t happy about. His dad had taken him for his first ride in the combine when he was barely a year old, and he’d never missed a harvest since. And he hadn’t missed a year of actually working during harvest since he was ten.

5

Robin L. Rotham

This year, thanks to his own stupidity, he’d been about as useful as tits on a boar.

Why couldn’t he have rolled the four-wheeler
after
harvest? The broken pelvis and shattered femur would still have hurt like a son-of-a-bitch, as would the medical bills, and Mandy would still have had to help out with chores, but at least Hake would have gotten to reap what he’d sown instead of paying his cousin’s custom farming outfit to do it.

His sigh sent a cloud of steam into the air. Why this year, when grain prices had finally surged high enough that he might have made a decent profit for once? Instead of getting ahead a little, they were probably going to show a loss again, and it was all he could do not to scream his frustration at the heavens.

Of course, Mandy would tell him—
had
told him, more than once—to be thankful that the accident had happened this year, when they had the extra money to handle it.

She’d also pointed out he should be grateful it wasn’t his reckless, idiotic neck that got broken.

Knowing she was right didn’t make his situation suck any less.

A gust of wind made him shiver. Damn, he should have worn a heavier coat. When had it gotten so cold?

He zipped his jacket up to the collar, then gripped the icy handrail and thumped down the concrete steps. At the bottom, he stuffed his hands into his pockets and set out across the yard at a slow limp. Mandy would bitch at him if she caught him coming out without the cane, but he was sick of it. He was sick of being laid up and sick of doctors who didn’t know their asses from their elbows, and he was really damn sick of hospitals that charged five dollars for a goddamn Tylenol.

Most of all, he was sick of not being able to fuck his wife like he wanted to. Like she
needed
him to.

The roar of the semi coming around the side of the house brought Jess tearing out of the shed. The yellow lab veered off course when he saw Hake, bounding over to lick his hand. His excited whimpers laid another load of guilt on Hake’s heart. Poor dog spent 6

Carnal Harvest

too much time alone lately. Well, as alone as he could be with a barn full of cats to chase.

“Yeah, I’ve missed you too, boy,” Hake murmured as the semi and empty trailer rattled by and headed around to the back of the machine shed. Tomorrow the only sounds he’d hear out here would be the cattle bellowing at each other and the occasional train rumbling in the distance.

Picking his way carefully over the uneven gravel, he opened the side door and stepped into the machine shed. Joe was just finessing the truck between the wagons and the bean drill, and Brent was blowing out the feeder house with the compressor hose.

Sticking his thumb and middle finger between his lips, Hake let out a piercing whistle. When Brent looked up, Hake waved him over and then stepped outside so they didn’t have to talk over the compressor’s roar.

Brent followed him through the door, brushing corn chaff off the front of his jacket.

Squatting, he scratched Jess behind the ears with both hands.

“Mateo’s yielded one-sixty,” he reported, turning his head just enough to avoid a French kiss from the dog.

“Huh. That’s better than I thought it’d be. Half of that field was underwater for most of July.”

“Well, it dried out just fine, I guess.”

Hake nodded. “So, Royce on his way to Winner?”

“Yeah, he loaded up and headed out before dawn. May even be combining already.

The rest of the crew got down there last night.”

When Jess darted after a tabby cat slinking through the weeds along the fence, Brent rose and stepped over by the hydrant. Flipping the red handle, he picked up the hose, reminding Hake it was time to take in the sprinkler and all the hoses for the season.

7

Robin L. Rotham

Brent waited until the water ran clean before taking a long drink from the flow.

Watching his sun-browned throat work as he swallowed, Hake frowned. It was disconcerting to be checking out his own cousin, but Mandy had checked him out a few times and Hake wanted to know just what it was she found so fascinating about him.

She claimed they looked a lot alike but Hake didn’t see it.

“So what’s on your mind?” Brent asked between gulps.

Hake shifted more weight to his good leg. Mandy’d really kill him if he fell over out here. “How do you know anything’s on my mind?”

“Well, you’re lookin’ me over like a prime bull on the block,” Brent said with a grin as he shut off the hydrant and wiped his chin on his sleeve. “Figured something had to be on your mind.”

Heat crept up Hake’s neck. “Not for me, it’s not.”

“Well I’d sure as hell hope not.” Brent’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “And you can forget it. I’ve already told Mandy more than once that I’m not interested in being set up with any of her friends. When I’m ready to settle down, I will.”

“No blind dates, I promise.” Hake shifted again. Shit, this was going to be harder than he’d thought. “But you know all those stories you told me about you and Joe and those, uh, women…”

When he hesitated, Brent’s brow rose in inquiry. Looking off toward the house, Hake pulled off his cap and ran his hand through his hair before plunking it back down again.

“They’re all true?” he finally asked.

“Well, yeah. I wouldn’t have told them if they weren’t.”

“You still, uh…?”

“Once in a while.” Brent grinned. “Why? You wanna watch?”

Hake bit his lips before saying, “Maybe.”

Brent’s eyes widened. “You’re shittin’ me.”

8

Carnal Harvest

“Not really.”

“Somehow I can’t see Mandy putting up with that.”

Hake plucked off his cap again and slapped it against the leg of his jeans, searching for a way to say this without coming off like a complete loser.

“Okay, it’s like this,” he finally said. “You know Mandy’s been writing romance books for a few years, bringing in a little extra money, right?”

When Brent nodded, he continued, “Well, since Ryan went off to college, she’s been writing…sexier stories. Ones about…stuff like you do.”

Brent blinked at him. “She writes books about three-way sex?”

“Among other things.” Hake put his cap back on and tugged the bill down low over his eyes.

“Holy shit.” Brent laughed out loud. “Hot damn, I knew she was a firecracker.”

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

“Hey now, don’t go gettin’ all caveman on my ass,” Brent said. “I just meant that there’s obviously a lot under the surface with her. You’re always too much of a gentleman to say anything, but I figured you two must have a pretty good time in the sack.”

“Yeah, we do. Or we did.” Hake tucked his hands back into his pockets. “Injuries like mine take a long time to heal and I haven’t really been up to it yet. Mandy’s been working hard, doing double duty, and I just… Well, I think she deserves something extra-special.”

Brent’s expression sharpened. “I don’t think I follow you.”

“I think you do.”

“Spell it out for me anyway.”

“Okay.” Hake took a deep breath, wondering what the fuck he was about to do to his marriage. “I want you and Joe to do a three-way with her.”

9

Robin L. Rotham

Brent blinked at him again and then walked over to the gate. Resting his forearms on the top rail, he propped a boot on a lower rail and looked out over the cattle yard.