Military Romance Collection: Contemporary Soldier Alpha Male Romance (14 page)

“He’s doing it,” Ada whispered. “He’s really doing it.” Charlie looked over and for the first time ever saw his wife crying. Tears were running down both of her cheeks, a shining diamond river.

“Yeah, honey.” He reached out and pulled her close against him. “He really is.” They watched, arm in arm, both of them crying, as the colt found the meal he was looking for. Blackberry was the calmest creature in the room. When she felt her foal nuzzling at her, she pulled her nose out of the feed bag long enough to give him a comforting nudge in the right direction. Then she went back to her dinner.

“That was amazing,” Ada said. They could hear the colt swallowing, loud gulps as the milk went down his throat. “An absolute miracle.”

“That’s what we should name him,” Charlie said. “Daniel’s Absolute Miracle.”

“It’s certainly a classier name than Bad Ass,” Ada laughed.

“Well, I can’t promise you he won’t wind up with a nick name like that.”

“I’m kind of hoping he does,” Ada replied. “Because that means he’s doing a good job for us, making some money. Nobody has to know that we think he’s a miracle.”

“The first one of many, I hope,” Charlie said.

Ada nodded. “Our life is full of miracles,” she said. “You’re my favorite one. But this little guy’s a very close second.”

“You’re my favorite miracle too.” Charlie kissed Ada, and Blackberry nickered like she was offended. Charlie looked up and laughed, surprised when the normally haughty mare pushed her head between the two of them.

“You want some love, sweetheart?” he asked. “Well, there’s no doubt you deserve it after the day you’ve had.”

“Good work, little Mama,” Ada added, rubbing the ebony side of Blackberry’s neck. “You make absolutely gorgeous babies.”

“With no fuss and no muss,” Charlie said. “Just like my wise wife said. You know what you’re doing, don’t you?”

Blackberry tossed her head up and down as if she was nodding. Charlie and Ada laughed. “In between you and her, we’ve got all the bases covered, don’t we, babe?” Charlie asked.

“That we do, honey,” Ada replied. She ducked under Blackberry’s neck to wrap her arms around Charlie. “All we’ve got to do is take this one miracle at a time.”

***

THE END

INTRODUCTION

I have included a bonus collection just for you. Those stories are more traditional romance stories and are at the beginning of the book and therefore if you want to jump straight ahead to the main story of this book, click the link.

Click Here to jump to “Military Romance Collection”

1

              Maurice was worried. The little guy generally was nervous, but then again, most people in jail are. Matthew had never once seen Maurice sit still during the four months he’d been in the county lockup, serving time for embezzlement. He was always walking around, pacing the edges of whatever space he happened to be in. If he had to stand still, for a head count or whatever, Maurice would bounce in place. He always looked agitated.

              Right now, though, agitated would be an understatement. Maurice’s eyes were wide and he was sweaty. He kept wiping his hands down on his jeans, drying off his sweaty palms. And he kept looking at Matthew.

              “Dude,” Matthew asked. “What is wrong with you?”

              “Nothing. Nothing. It’s all good, man.” Maurice hugged himself and started pacing in a tight little circle. “It’s good.”

              “You don’t look like its good.” Matthew looked for one of the guardswho was supposed to be watching the yard; he thought he might have to call for medical help. “Are you tripping? Right now, are you tripping?”

              Even as the conversation was happening, Matthew couldn’t help but reflect on how bizarre his life had become. A year ago, he’d been going to work in a suit and tie, playing the game as a young up and coming executive with a successful ambitious wife. Now he was on his own, standing in a jail yard, worried about the mental health situation of a man whose biggest life accomplishment so far had been to get caught robbing the same liquor store three times.

              Maurice laughed. “I wish I was tripping, man!” He waved his arm in the air, punctuating every word by jabbing his finger toward the sky. “Every minute of every day I’m in here, I want to be tripping!”

              “Well, yeah,” Matthew laughed, cautiously trying to match Maurice’s attitude. “Who doesn’t?”

              “No doubt,” Maurice replied. He got up close to Matthew, standing nearly face to face with him. “You’ve always been all right.”

              “Uh…thank you,” Matthew said. “I guess?”

              “I don’t want to have to tell you this, but I’ve got to,” Maurice said. “But it’s not a personal thing, all right? This isn’t me and you. Not at all. This is me relaying a message, because I have to.” His eyes were very shiny as he stared intensely at Matthew, glimmering with what could be unshed tears. “You got that?”

              Matthew swallowed. He was cold, suddenly, from his shoulders down, frozen in place by fear. He wanted to run, to run as fast as he could away from the nervous little man standing in front of him, because clearly something really bad was going to happen – and it was going to happen to him.

              Matthew had been in jail only three days when he saw his first stabbing. One inmate had gotten into an altercation with one of his cellies; he’d wound up with three inches of shaved-off toothbrush handle shoved into his rib cage. What had been shocking was how absolutely routine this event had been for everyone except Matthew: one the guards broke the fight up, there’d been an almost ballet-like performance of emergency and disciplinary response. The victim had been led away, past Matthew’s wide eyes, like an oversized bleeding stage prop; the aggressor wrestled to the ground, cuffed and carried away, screaming all the while that he didn’t do  nothing.

              Now Matthew wondered if the same thing was going to happen to him. He’d been trying to keep his head down the whole time he was in jail, diligently doing his best to attract absolutely no attention to himself. He went out of his way to make sure he treated everyone with respect, and kept away from any conversation or activity that looked “political”, which is what Matthew had learned was the jail’s code for gang activity.

              He looked at Maurice. The poor guy was shaking from head to toe. He was clearly scared. Oh, great, Matthew thought.  I’m going to be stabbed by an amateur. “I get it, man,” he said. “I know how things go.”

              Maurice relaxed visibly, slowing down to his normal rate of constant motion. “Fat Jesus wants to see you, man.  You’re supposed to walk up and meet him on the Road.”

              The Road was what the inmates called the two-lane track that circled the exercise yard. Matthew had never set foot on it: the Road was the express territory of the Latino population of the jail. They’d amble slowly around the oval throughout the exercise period, alternating between loud bouts of laughter and deadly quiet times when they were doing business.

              Matthew looked up over at the Road. Nobody was laughing.

              “What? Me?” Matthew protested. “What did I do? I haven’t hassled anyone.” He racked his memory, trying to put a face with Fat Jesus’ name. “I don’t even know this guy.”

              “I know you don’t know him,” Maurice said. “That don’t matter. He thinks he knows you.”

              Matthew dropped his voice. “Man, you’ve got to be real with me. If I’m walking up there to get killed, I’m not going. You got me? That’s not how this is going to happen.”  He suddenly understood why Maurice had been so nervous about approaching him. The little guy was his ticket out of this situation. If he punched Maurice in the face right now, Matthew reasoned, and started beating the hell out of him, the guards would pull Matthew out of the yard and put him in segregation, getting him out of immediate danger.

             
              “No, no, no!” Maurice said, louder than Matthew had expected him to speak. “It’s not like that. This is not one of those situations.” He looked around the yard, turning his head to see who was watching their conversation. “Big Jesus wants to talk to you. That’s all.”

              Matthew studied Maurice’s face intently, trying to figure out if the little guy was lying to him. Then he sighed. It didn’t really matter whether Maurice was telling the truth or not. Big Jesus was going to do what Big Jesus was going to do. That’s the way jail worked, and there was nothing he, or Maurice, could do about it.

              “Point him out to me,” he sighed. “I might as well get this over with.”

              Big Jesus was younger than Matthew expected. He was in his early twenties – younger than either of Matthew’s brothers – and had a baby faced innocent expression on his face. He was also bigger than Matthew expected, standing at least six feet tall and weighing in around three hundred pounds.

              “Do I know you?” he asked Matthew, jabbing a finger the size of a sausage into the former insurance executive’s chest. “Because I feel like you and I have interacted before.”

              Matthew shook his head. “I don’t remember ever meeting you,” he said, looking up to meet the young man’s eyes. “And I really think I would.”

              “What neighborhood do you live at?”

              Matthew winced. “West Houston. Over by Memorial Gardens.” His ex-wife, Amy, had desperately wanted to buy a home in the ritzy neighborhood, but it had been well beyond their financial reach. The fact that Matthew had emptied the couple’s joint savings accounts betting on MMA fights hadn’t helped that situation any. “At least that’s where I was living. After this?” he shrugged. “I don’t think I’ll be going back.”

              “Memorial Gardens? Shit.” Big Jesus laughed. “So you don’t get out too much.”

              “I was always working,” Matthew said. “Downtown. Bretton Financials.” The name of his firm clearly didn’t mean anything to Big Jesus, but Matthew kept talking. “Maybe I worked with your Mom or Dad?”

              “No.” Big Jesus shook his head. “You didn’t.” His eyes narrowed. “So you never got over to Sunnyside? You never spent any time over there?”

              Matthew’s eyes went wide. “No!” he blurted out. Sunnyside was probably the toughest neighborhood in Houston, where drive by shootings were practically every day events. He’d never, ever had an occasion to go there.

              Big Jesus laughed. When he did, the other guys who were around laughed too. “It’s not that bad, man.” Big Jesus said. “But it’s not Memorial Gardens, that’s for sure.” He shook his head. “I know I’ve seen you somewhere though.”

              Matthew shook his head. “I really don’t think so,” he said, and then, without thinking, uttered the words that would change his life. “Maybe you’re thinking about my brother?”

2

              “So, you ready to meet my biggest failure?” Jenn said. She smiled at Ada and Charlie as she led the way toward the corral. “I’ve been working with horses all my life. Most generally, I’m pretty good at it. If they’re nervous, I can get them to calm down. The stubborn ones I can bring around. It just takes time.”

              Charlie nodded. “Wyatt told us you were one of the best in the business.”

              Jenn blushed. “Well, that’s nice of him to say that,” she laughed. “But I can’t say that I agree. If I was all that good, I wouldn’t be trying to sweet talk you two into taking my problem child here.”  They’d come up to the fence, and Jenn leaned against it, pointing out toward a dun-colored mare. “Meet HoneyBee, the horse who can’t be broke.”

              “Oh,” Ada exclaimed. “She’s pretty! And she looks strong,” she added, looking at her husband.

              “We watched the video you sent over,” Charlie said, “and that’s why we’re here. But I’d love to see how she is to work with before I tell you yes or no.”

              “Of course,” Jenn said. She climbed over the fence easily, swinging her leg over the top rail before jumping down in to the dirt on the other side. “I’ll go get her, and we’ll throw a saddle on her back.” She grinned at Ada. “You going to try giving her a ride?”

              “Oh, hell no,” Ada said, laughing. “I have a hard enough time staying on the horses that aren’t trying to dump me off.” Since moving to Texas, Ada had made a valiant effort to learn how to ride, but her progress had been slow so far. She turned toward Charlie. “You’re going to do this?”

              He shook his head. “I’ll buy ‘em, I’ll breed ‘em, but I don’t ride ‘em.” Charlie laughed. “I may be crazy, but I’m not stupid.”

              “It does take a special sort of cowboy, doesn’t it?” Jenn said. She sprinted across the corral and caught HoneyBee by the halter. “Come on, sweetheart. Some nice people want to watch you dance.”

              HoneyBee came along easily enough. She was a well-made horse, with wide, intelligent eyes and a gleaming coat.

              “You’re fat and sassy, aren’t you?” Charlie said, rubbing his hand over the side of the mare’s neck appreciatively.

              “She knows where the grain bin is, that’s for sure,” Jenn replied.  The mare stood quietly enough while Jenn got her bridle on, moving only a little once the saddle blanket went over her shoulders. Then her nostrils started to flare out a little bit and her breathing changed.

              “Don’t get all hyper on me,” Jenn said. “You know I’m not going to hurt you.”

              That assurance didn’t seem to calm HoneyBee down at all. She started to dance a little bit, picking up one hoof and then the other, trying to back away from where Charlie held her reins.

              “And you’ve been working with her a while?” Ada asked.

              “Almost two years, and I just can’t get her broke,” Jenn replied.  “This, right here?” she said, gesturing toward the horse’s evident agitation, “is nothing. She’s being a good girl right now.” Jenn picked up the heavy western saddle as if it weighed nothing at all and put it on HoneyBee.

              HoneyBee whuffed heavily and then started to breathe in.

              “You have to watch that,” Jenn said, patting the mare on her chest and disrupting her inhalation patterns. “She’s swallow a bellyful of air if you’re not careful.” She reached beneath the horse’s belly for the cinch strap and drew it through. “Then, once you think you’ve got the saddle on their nice and tight, she’ll let all that air out and off you go.”

              “So she’s a smart cookie,” Ada said.

              “And mean. She’ll stand there and laugh at you after that little trick works,” Jenn said. “Don’t act like you don’t know,” she said to the mare, who’d turned her head to watch the trainer speaking. “You do that on purpose.”

              The cinch strap was secure, and Jenn took the reins from Charlie’s hands. “Now, you all better get ready to watch fast, because this show’s not going to last long. I’ll do my best to stay on her, but… well.” She smiled and put her foot up in the stirrup. “You all know why you’re here.”

              Jenn swung up into HoneyBee’s saddle, turning the reins so the mare’s head came away from the fence toward the center of the corral. The dun’s eyes were wild. She was clearly upset the minute Jenn settled in the saddle. She took two prancing steps forward and then started to buck.

              HoneyBee was a jumper. She hopped on all four hooves once or twice, putting a good foot or so between the bottom of her horseshoes and the turf. Then she started to spin, turning in a tight circle to the left. Her head went down and Ada gasped, certain that Jenn was going to be propelled right off of HoneyBee’s back.

              But the short, strong trainer held on, keeping her legs tight around HoneyBee’s torso and pulling up on the reins. “Oh, no, baby girl. You’re not ditching me that easy.”

              The battle continued. HoneyBee’s head came up, and then her neck and her shoulders as she reared up on her hind legs. Jenn leaned forward, using her weight to push the mare back down toward the ground. Once she got her front hooves planted, HoneyBee kicked up her back legs, striking out against the sky.

              “That’s pretty damn good,” Charlie said to Ada, “considering she’s not even wearing a flank strap.”

              HoneyBee began to circle to the right, jumping and kicking a tight orbit around the corral. “I think that Jenn needs to give up horse training and go ride the rodeo,” Ada said. “She’s pretty damn good at staying up there.”

              “It’s better than I can do,” Charlie agreed. He kept his eyes on HoneyBee, watching how the horse used its body and its mind. Some bucking broncos have a self-destructive streak: they’ll do anything, including hurt themselves, to get a rider off their back. He didn’t want a horse like that in his herd. The vet got enough money out of the ranch as it was.

              HoneyBee didn’t seem to be exhibiting any of the behaviors Wyatt had warned him to look for. She didn’t drop her shoulder or try to roll Jenn off of her back. There was no sign that the mare was thinking about running into the fence.

              When HoneyBee started to rear up again, Jenn leaned forward. When she did, the mare made a quick turn away from her, going left instead of right abruptly. This left Jenn awkwardly off balance; she fell forward out of the saddle. The minute she hit the ground, she scrambled up and away from HoneyBee. With no rider in the saddle, the mare calmed down instantly, coming to a full stop in the middle of the corral, her sides heaving.

              “So,” Jenn said, brushing off her hands, “I’m not going to be able to sell her to any of my families. She’s just not a kids’ horse.”

              Charlie nodded. “Well, unless you really don’t like your kids.”

              Ada laughed. “You’re horrible!”

              Jenn laughed too.  “The way she is right now, I couldn’t even sell her to the worst of the little darlings I work with. I’d feel too bad if something happened.”

              “We need to build up our herd,” Charlie said. “And we definitely need some good working stock so we can get the cash coming in.” He shrugged. “So I guess it all comes down to numbers. How much are you looking to get for her?”

              “I’d like to get two grand,” Jenn said.

              Ada shook her head. “That’s not going to happen. She’s worth every penny, but we just don’t have that kind of money right now.”

              “Uncle Sam cleaned us out,” Charlie said, by way of explanation. Scrambling to pay his late Grandfather’s outstanding taxes had brought Charlie together with his true love, Ada, so he tried not to begrudge the expense, but there were definitely moments where having more cash available would definitely make life a lot easier.

              This was one of those times. He wanted HoneyBee. Even though he was far from the most experienced judge of horseflesh, Charlie could see the mare was something special. If a rider who was as good in the saddle as Jenn evidently was had a tough time staying on her back, so would the professional bronc riders. That meant more money in his pocket – and more money for any foals the mare might have later, when it came time to breed her.

              “Would you take $800?” Ada asked.

              Charlie was surprised his bride started with such a low offer, but he said nothing. Financial negotiations were never his strong suit, while Ada’s former career with the IRS prepared her very well for crunching numbers.

              Jenn shook her head. “I’d love to help you guys out, but I just couldn’t go that low for her.”

              Ada nodded. “Fair enough. What could you do?”

              Jenn tilted her head. “I could take eighteen.”

              Charlie winced, inside. That was, he knew, their absolute top offer, the most they could afford – and even then, paying that much would make things tight on the ranch until the first checks of the rodeo season arrived.

              “Man, I wish I could do that.”  Ada leaned over the fence and scratched HoneyBee’s nose. “Especially as she’s such a pretty girl. And it’s so hard to find someone who needs a horse that can’t be ridden.”

              Jenn said nothing for a while. The silence grew between the two women, broken up only by their laughter as HoneyBee nudged her head up hard into Ada’s chest, demanding more affection. “She does seem to like you,” Jenn said.

              “We’d give her a good home,” Ada said. “The rodeo can be a hard life for a horse, but we treat our stock well.”

              Jenn nodded.  “I’ve driven by all y’alls place. Your herd looks good.”

              “Thank you.” Ada nodded back. “We do the best we can.” She took a deep breath. “I could go a thousand. But you’ve got to know that’s everything I’ve got to give you…and a little bit more.”

              It was Jenn’s turn to take a deep breath. “I’m going to lose money if I do that.”

              Ada hugged herself, and then pressed her hands and fingers against her mouth. Her blond eyebrows were knitted together. It was clear she was thinking hard. “I don’t want to put you in that position, I really don’t,” she said. “I mean, keeping her is going to cost you money, too, but that’s not the same thing…”

              “Well, let me ask you a question,” Jenn said. “What happens when all y’all find yourself in my boots?”

              “I’m not sure I follow,” Ada said.

              “Well, what if you wind up with a colt that doesn’t buck?” Jenn asked. “What do you do with that horse?”

              Ada looked at Charlie, who shrugged. “I guess we’d wind up selling it,” he said, confessing with a laugh, “We haven’t been doing this long enough to run into that situation yet.”

              “It does seem like a situation you’re going to run into,” Jenn said.

              Ada agreed. “It would almost have to happen, I’d guess.”

              The two women smiled at each other. An understanding passed between them. Ada spoke first. “So if I give you a thousand now, and a colt later…”

              “I’d be happy to let HoneyBee go start her rodeo career,” Jenn replied.

              “Welcome to the family, darling,” Ada said, giving the mare a good scratch between the ears. “Welcome to the family.”