The McClane Apocalypse Book Five (11 page)

“Well, they’re all stupid!” she scoffs
irritably. “I don’t care what the hell sex they are.”

“My
stallion
would beg to differ,” he jokes as he shows
her how to shoo away the horses on the other side of the gate. He
breezes right through with the
mare
, careful not to let the
gate
hit the horse in the rump, which is a good way
to startle them and get run over in the process.

After he releases her, they go back out where
he refastens the lock on the gate.

“That sure as hell was easier when you did
it,” she complains.

Cory chuckles, “Not bad for a
knuckle-dragger, huh?”

She tries to suppress a smile. Cory looks
over at her frequently as they walk to the cattle barn further
along on the path. She has a smudge of dirt on her cheek and a big
gray smear on the shoulder area of her shirt as if the mare had
rubbed her forehead there. They like to do that, use humans as
scratching posts.

“You’ll get it,” he reassures her, even
though he’s not sure why he’s doing it. “Just takes practice.”

“I don’t know about that,” she says. “I’ve
been here for the whole spring and summer. I’m not getting it yet,
and I hate those dumb horses.”

“See there? That’s your problem. They know
you don’t like them,” he tells her.

“They aren’t the only ones around here I
don’t like,” she replies with a sassy attitude and shoots him any
icy blue squint.

“You are feisty,” he accords and follows
after her. “I’ll give you that much.”

He admires her slim hips swaying in front of
him as she heads into the barn. He’s starting to wish she wasn’t
related to Simon at all. He’s going to need a visit to Evie Johnson
soon.

“Are those a pair of
full-length jeans you’re wearing, you big Amazon?” he taunts
because he has nothing to better to do as they shovel silage to the
pregnant cows in the back of the barn.
She’s wearing
thigh-skimming blue-jean shorts. Her bare legs go on forever, right
down to her dirty, worn out, black leather ankle boots.

She snorts indignantly at him and replies,
“Are you going for that whole Amish look again or are you going to
shave?”

He laughs loudly, frightening one of
the dairy cows. He hasn’t shaved in a few days, and it’s
obviously
showing.

“It’s my high levels of testosterone. That’s
why I grow a beard so quickly,” he teases and blocks her from
getting another heavy shovelful. “Guess it means I’m virile and
all.”

She stops, looks up at him in shock and her
mouth falls open.

“Yeah, right,” she remarks snidely.

Cork smirks and runs a hand through his
sweaty hair. She’s in his way more than he is in hers. She’s
slowing him down. He could do this a hell of a lot faster if she’d
just go to the house. Of course, this is more entertaining than
just shoveling silage by himself to a bunch of dumb, lazy cows.

He sidesteps in the narrow space between the
long wooden trough and the grain container made of stainless steel.
“Care to find out just how virile?”

Instead of running from him or shrinking
back, Paige puffs up her chest in a show of force- which really
isn’t the smartest idea on her part- and juts out her stubborn
jaw.

“You don’t scare me. I got away
from
you once, caveman. I can do it
again,” she says forcefully, her light eyes flashing with anger and
bold defiance. “I’m not afraid of you.”

Cory looks her up and down,
notices
how when he lingers on her chest
that she doesn’t huff and puff quite as much, and finally lets his
gaze fall
onto
hers.

“You should be,” he says with more huskiness
than he means to.

She still doesn’t shrink back or run away in
fear, but her eyes register his intention. He can see it there that
she understands the implication. Paige shoves the handle of her
shovel into his hand and spins on her foot.

When she is halfway down the aisle away from
him, Cory calls out, “Good riddance, witch! You were just in my
way.”

He finishes his chores and is joined a few
minutes later by Simon, who keeps hounding him about where he is
going at night.

“Come on, man,” Simon gripes. “Just tell me.
I’ll go with you.”

“No thanks,” he tells his best friend. “I
don’t need help. Besides, I’m just visiting the Johnson’s daughter
again. No big deal. And I don’t need your help with that.” This is
a blatant lie, but Cory isn’t about to tell Simon that he’s
tracking the three to five fuckers who are still out there
somewhere. The scumbag bastards who thought they could attack the
McClane farm this summer while he was gone and get away with
it.

Simon doesn’t look like he buys into
this falsehood, but he also doesn’t comment again. They finish up
and head for the big house.
Hopefully,
the kids are done in the bathrooms, or more likely that their
parents have forced them to wash up and are done. Sue and Derek
have running water and a full bathroom in their cabin care of
stolen and looted plumbing supplies and a hot water tank from the
Lowes store in Clarksville. They took four hot water tanks instead
of just the one they needed for Derek’s cabin. Even though they
shower and bathe in their own cabin at night, along with their
three kids, there are still a lot of people using the main house
facilities. He and Simon are supposed to be adding a full bathroom
to the cabin so that they’ll have their own shower system, but they
are simply too busy working on the wall build in town. If his
annoying sister is going to insist on staying out there with them,
then she’s probably going to want a full, working bathroom of their
own. They have a sink and toilet, but nothing fancy like a shower
or tub or even a door yet. He wishes she’d go back to the house.
And take her silky, lacy bras and undies with her that she leaves
scattered around in the cabin.

Some of the family is gathered in the music
room for family music night, which is not his cup of tea. He’s also
skipping the meeting. He ducks out the back door quickly and jogs
to the cabin in his dirty clothing. His hair is still wet from his
shower and drips onto his bare shoulders. He’s forgotten once again
to take clean clothing to the big house.

When he gets to the cabin, he expels a groan
of irritation because Paige is sitting at the table sipping hot tea
and going over her plans on the wall. She whips her head around and
mimics his groan with one of her own. His traitorous dog is lying
at her feet.

“I see you’ve been using your witchy
ways on my dog again,” he remarks with feigned anger. Damn Dog has
been sleeping at the foot of Paige’s mattress on the floor.
Sometimes she even crawls onto the bed and
sleeps
on Paige’s feet. She may be a damn good
guard dog and had his back in the field many times, but she also
loves women and children.

“Your mangy mutt and you should both
sleep in the barn,” she says
with
a glare and pushes his dog with her bare foot. She’s way too
heavy to be shoved. She doesn’t even budge but stands
instead.

Damn Dog whine
s
softly and places her big head in Paige’s lap.
Paige sighs and rolls her eyes at the German shepherd. Then she
reluctantly reaches down and pets her. The tail wagging
commences.

“Defector,” Cory calls Damn Dog, who just
looks briefly at him before grinning, drooling and going back to
lying her head on Paige’s knees.

“You’re as annoying as your owner,” Paige
scolds, although she is still petting his dog.

Cory ignores her, starts stripping out of his
soiled clothing and changing his dirty socks. He glances over his
shoulder. Paige is staring at him. She averts her eyes but not
before sending a nasty expression in his direction.

“Get a good look, Princess,” he remarks,
indicating with a hand to his torso. “You can look all you want,
but this temple isn’t for you.”

“Damn, and there you go ruining my dream,”
she says with fire.

Cory chuckles at her as he pulls on a clean
black shirt, matching pants and his boots.

“Where are you going? Where do you go every
night?” she asks.

Paige joins him
at
his bed where he is jamming items into his
backpack and checking the extra magazines for his rifle. He taps
one firmly against the sole of his boot.

“Got a date,” he lies and looks
directly down at her. She is
clearly
scrutinizing his answer.

“Sure you do,” she quips and picks up a map
from his bed. She points to the red pen marks, “What’s this
about?”

Cory snatches it from her and shoves it into
his sack. He hits her with a look of impatience.

“Those are all the hot babes I’ve banged in
this county,” he lies again just to get her goat.

“You couldn’t get laid carrying a bag of gold
in a whore house, Neanderthal,” she insults.

“Bet I could get
laid
in this cabin, maybe even tonight,” he taunts
and leans toward her.

“I sleep beside my brother
and
his big rifle. I also have a
knife of my own,” she returns.

Cory admires the grayish-blue of her eyes set
against her tan, freckled skin and the shocking red of her bright
hair. It’s pulled back into a long braid that hangs to the middle
of her back. She smells pretty damn good, too. She should be using
the same soap as he does since everyone on the farm uses the same
soaps, but it sure smells better on her skin. He may just actually
have to go visit Evie Johnson, after all, tonight.

“Your little dagger would be like a pin
prick,” he jests and slides the rest of his gear into his pack,
slings it over his shoulder and grabs his rifle.

“You’d know all about pricks,” she insults as
he goes to the door.

“You could, too, if you weren’t such a
red-haired witch,” he reports and slams the cabin door.

It’ll be good to get away from her for the
rest of the night. He can’t decide if he wants to throw her on his
bed and make love to her or club her over the head. She’s one,
big-mouthed, pain in the ass, tall wench. She does have a nicely
toned ass, though.

Cory shakes his head as he retrieves
one of the geldings and saddles him as fast as possible before
anyone discovers his stealthy exit from the farm. He has work to
do. Dirtbags
need to be killed
,
and he needs to visit Evie sometime late tonight, too.

Chapter Six

Sam

“Don’t let me fall off this damn thing, Sam,”
Paige complains from behind Sam on the back of the mare.

Sam just chuckles and replies, “You won’t. I
promise. She’s a gentle old lady, aren’t you?”

She reaches down and strokes and
then
pats
the mare’s thick
neck.

“I hate these things,” Paige says, apparently
referring to the horses. “I don’t trust them.”

“Just don’t do anything crazy around them and
you won’t have anything to fear,” Sam tells her.

“Crazy, like what?”

“Sudden movements toward their heads can
scare them. Getting off on the wrong side can sometimes spook them.
Little things. Trust me, most of the time, the horses are more
afraid of us.”

Paige
snorts
. “Not likely.”

“She has no capacity for vengeance, so you
don’t have to worry about her holding a grudge if you mistreat her
or make a mistake. They forgive rather easily,” she says.

“Wish people were that easy,” Paige
observes.

“I know, right? Me, too,” Sam concurs.
“Just relax. She won’t hurt us. Also,
relax
your grip on my waist. I can’t hardly
breathe.”

Paige says, “Oh, sorry.”

They are riding alongside Reagan and
Hannah, who rides behind her sister. They are all four heading over
to the Reynolds farm to meet up with Talia to plan her wedding. Sam
is so happy for Chet. She doesn’t know Talia all that well, but
Chet has been like a brother to her for the last four years. And
Talia seems like
a good
person.
She’s been nothing but honest and kind to her. Sam thinks they will
have a happy marriage. She hopes they will have
a good
life, a peaceful one.

They ride past the Reynolds family burial
grounds, something of which everyone seems to have on their
properties.

“Are those relatives?” Paige
inquires
about the small wooden crosses
staked into the ground.

“Yes, their family,” Sam explains as Reagan
pulls ahead of them. “Mr. and Mrs. Reynolds and the youngest
brother, Billy. I guess they were all just as nice as Chet and
Wayne, but I never met any of them. They were killed when their
home was attacked.”

“Yeah, I think Reagan told me about that. And
the other one?”

“Their cousin. His name was Lenny. He died
from pneumonia about a year after he arrived on their farm.”

“Wow, everyone has lost people, family,”
Paige reflects morosely.

“Yes, they have. Even if you can stay alive
and not be killed by someone, there is always still that threat of
illness that can take your life.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Paige agrees.

They pass the
graveyard
and continue on up to the house where
they hitch their horses to the posts of the front porch and
dismount. Talia immediately comes bounding out the front door,
followed by little Maddie.