Slow Ride Home (The Grady Legacy) (22 page)

“One of the first times I’ve heard of where being a tight ass is a good thing,” she murmured. His finger stroked her clit again at the same time he flexed his hips and pressed deeper inside her ass, resulting in a delicious fullness.

Her body hugged his length, tightening, as she teetered on the edge.

Sweat beaded his forehead as he withdrew, then returned to fill her in a long slow thrust. Again, and again, until her breath burned in her chest, and her thoughts disappeared, the only thing existing in her universe was the ecstasy he’d brought her.

“Let go,” Ben whispered, the heat of his words brushing her cheek in a soft caress. It tipped her over the edge, another orgasm pulsing through her, as strong as the others.

Her name slipped from his lips as he followed her, the sound shattering her soul. When he pulled from her, she sank to the covers feeling bereft at the loss of his touch. She lay there, boneless, as he slipped into the bathroom. He returned to gently clean her, the cool dampness of the towel as soothing as the tender words he murmured.

A moment later, he settled beside her, tucking her against his shoulder. Contentment settled over her like a comforting blanket. Despite his earlier warning about lacking of control, he’d been so careful of her. She’d wanted adventure, and he’d delivered beyond her imagination.

Chapter Fifteen

His body exhausted enough to tell his mind to shut up for once, Ben relaxed in the saddle, letting Rusher pick his way along the path. It helped that Allie was riding Buttercup right in front of him. Even though Rusher no longer had his balls, he was still male enough to know a good female when he saw one. Speaking of which, Allie had held her own today, both in the ride out to one of the farthest pastures and when they loaded the bales onto the trucks. While he’d normally liked to take lead in a group, he’d angled to bring up the rear today in order to admire the very fine seat of Ms. Allie O’Keefe.

Not many women would give up their weekend to work in the fields in hundred-degree heat, but Allie hadn’t complained even once. At least their activities last night hadn’t left her too sore to ride.

The walkie-talkie clipped to Ben’s saddle crackled; Jake asking where they were, then asking them to wait as he was on his way over After a short conversation, filled with static and broken-up communications, Ben called to Gabe to slow up. Gabe, who had been leading the threesome, pulled up his gelding.

Buttercup balked at stopping, the mare dancing around Gabe’s horse earning him an exasperated glare from Allie.

“Sorry, but Jake and Dale are headin’ this way,” Ben explained.

He frowned when he noticed Allie wilting in the saddle. While he was used to working out in the damned Texas heat all day, she’d been used to air-conditioned offices, houses and cars. Since she hadn’t had her own hat, he’d loaned her one of his old ones. It was a little too big and fell over her eyebrows but he liked her in it. The same way he’d gotten hard when she’d pulled on one of his tee shirts that morning.

He urged Rusher beside her and gestured with his chin to the spreading oak by the fence line. “It’s hot as Hades out here in the sun. Let’s go wait in the shade.”

Allie shot him a grateful glance and urged her mare to follow Rusher. The moment they were in the shelter of the overhanging branches, Ben pulled out a water bottle from his saddlebag. “Drink. From what I’ve seen, you haven’t been getting enough fluid in you today. I don’t want you getting heatstroke on me.”

Once she’d downed half the water and he was convinced she wasn’t about to fall out of the saddle, Ben leaned back in the saddle to survey the land that had been part of his family since Bedford “Bull” Grady had ridden there a hundred and sixty years before. Where his father and grandfather and great-grandfather had been conceived and born.

Of the four oil wells on the nearest field, one of them had stopped long ago. But three continued pumping, the mechanisms bobbing like the head of a donkey. The paintbrush that had covered the fields just weeks ago had faded, as had the bluebonnets, though the bright yellow Greenthread flowers had taken their place. In the nearest pasture, a group of cows, their calves close by their sides, took shelter from the sun beneath a cluster of mesquite trees. Even though they hadn’t hit the worst of summer, the leaves had changed from the bright green of spring to the more tired green, and the grass was already drying out on most fields.

This was Grady land. His land now. His and Jake’s. The land of his ancestors, where he’d assumed his own children would be conceived. Yet now it could be split up, wrenched from his hands and handed to a stranger. Sure, the stranger might be his half brother, but that guy didn’t know every inch of Bull’s Hollow like he and Jake did. For all Ben knew, he might be some uptight stiff who thought running a Texas ranch was more like life at Southfork, with fancy dress balls and lounging around, running to meetings in Houston. Or worse, the man could demand his twenty-three thousand be split off and immediately sell it to someone else.

He straightened when two figures appeared at the top of the hill to the west—Jake driving an ATV and Dale riding— “Man, that horse is butt-ugly.”

“I admit, his blaze is a little wonky, and his eyes are rather...” Allie started.

“Pig-eyed?” Ben supplied. “As I said, butt-ugly.”

Her frown told him she was trying to find something nice to say about Squirrel. She failed. “Horses can’t be ugly.”

He snorted. “The damned thing’s got offset knees so he paddles when he walks. He’s got a short neck, which makes his gait look even weirder, and wait’ll you get a closer look at his snout—talk about a beak.”

“Yeah, but Squirrel sure is well-trained.” Admiration filled Gabe’s voice. “If you get a chance, Miss Allie, ask Dale to show you his tricks. He’s trained Squirrel to bow, and to fall down if Dale points his fingers at him and says bang. Heck, he even plays fetch.”

“All very useful skills for a horse to have when you’re rounding up cattle.” Ben shut up as Dale got within hearing distance. His horse may be ugly, but his ranch manager thought Squirrel shot the moon. One thing he’d learned was not to diss a man’s horse within the man’s hearing unless you wanted your hat knocked to the ground. While you were still wearing it.

Casting a narrow look at Jake, Dale wiped his forehead and resettled his sweat-stained baseball cap over his balding pate before meeting Ben’s gaze. “Can I, uh, talk to you a minute, Ben? In private?”

Without waiting for Ben to agree, he walked his horse a dozen or more yards away. What had happened now? His gut clenching in suspicion, Ben wheeled Rusher to stand beside the butt-ugly gelding. “What’s up?”

“Sorry, kid, but I got an offer from a spread over in Barnett Springs I’ve been mulling over for the last week. I was gonna to turn it down but unless you get your brother to stop arguing with me, I’m gonna accept the job.”

Aw crap, no.

Bull’s Hollow couldn’t afford another defection. Forget that,
he
couldn’t lose Dale. He’d been his father’s right-hand man and could keep the hands in line, especially the older ones who resented “two young bucks playin’ boss.”

The start of a headache pounding behind his eyes, Ben forced aside his irritation at the familiar complaint. “What is it this time? That you don’t like the idea of putting GPS in the tractors or you don’t agree with planting alfalfa instead of oats?”

Jake and Dale had butted heads for the last six months over new methods versus old. Both were right and both were wrong at equal points, but neither would concede to the other.

“He’s telling the hands to ignore my orders and do things his way, and just generally being a pain in the ass.” Dale glanced toward Jake with a sneer. “I ain’t got the energy to argue with him anymore.”

No wonder Jake had been complaining about no one listening to him or respecting him. And here he’d been thinking his brother had been exaggerating.

“Then stop arguing with him and start listenin’ to him.” Ben’s voice rose, along with his anger. “Jake is part owner of Bull’s Hollow. He’s lived and breathed this ranch since the day he was born. He is as much as your boss as I am. If you’re having problems obeying his instructions, then you’re the problem. Not him.”

Dale’s jaw jutted hard. “I’ll give you to the end of next week, then I’m out of here.”

“You’ll give us a month. You owe us that according to your contract.”

“I’ll ask if the other place can wait that long. If they can’t, I can promise you two weeks and that’s all.” He crooked his thumb in the direction of Stink Creek. “But if Jake shows up and undermines my orders in that time, I’m outta here.”

“That won’t be an issue because you won’t be giving any orders. You’ll be taking them. For the remainder of your employment here, you’ll be building a new enclosure for Butch’s hogs.” Ben ignored Dale’s curse. “If you don’t like it, you can leave today. But don’t expect me to pay you to the end of your contract.”

Turning his back on the older man, Ben clicked to Rusher, urging him back to where Jake and Gabe waited.

“Dale’s quit,” he said flatly. “Jake? How do you feel about giving Gabe a promotion?”

Surprise filled Gabe’s expression. “Me? Not Bruce?”

If they were going by length of service, Bruce d’Avier was technically the next in line.

Jake grinned. “I think it’s a great idea.” He swatted his friend on the arm with his hat. “The men won’t work for Bruce the way they do you.”

“One thing, and I hate to ask,” Ben said slowly. “But are you in for good? Because if you plan on following Dale—” or any of the others who’d already walked away, “—I’d rather know now. I’d like the rest of the hands to see a united front.”

Gabe nodded. “Your family’s done right by me and mine. Even if the going gets tough, I’ll stick.”

He held out his hand and shook first Jake’s then Ben’s hands to seal the deal.

“Let’s head home and get out of this heat for a while,” Jake suggested.

The four of them resumed their trek along the narrow path, and to Ben’s surprise Jake hung back, letting Gabe take the lead.

“Thanks for backing me with Dale.”

“We can’t tolerate him or anyone else undermining our authority.” While Dale’s departure should have hit him hard, Ben only felt relief. “What was the issue?”

“He was ragging on Billy—called him a queer because he upchucked his lunch.” Jake referred to one of their newest hires—a young fresh-faced kid who’d dropped out of high school to help support his family when his single mother lost her job. He was earnest, but a total greenhorn. “I told him to cut it out, the kid probably had heat stroke. Dale got pissed. Said I was undermining
his
authority, can you believe it?”

“Asshole,” Ben muttered. He frowned when Allie’s horse kicked at a bee buzzing around its belly, nearly unseating Allie. When he was sure she’d stay in the saddle, he asked, “What’d you do with Billy? Send him home?”

“Tried to, but he wouldn’t go.”

Ben grunted. “No surprise. The kid’s got a lot of pride—he’d know the other hands would think him weak if he left.”

“That’s what I figured. I sent him back to the yard with the rest, told him to organize the tack room. He’ll be in the shade that way at least.”

* * *

Two miles out from home, both Ben’s and Jake’s radios squawked, followed by Butch’s worried voice asking, “Anyone seen my grandson around?”

Jake freed his radio first. “What’s up, Butch?”

“No one’s seen Cody.” The cook sounded worried even over the tinny radio speaker. “He was supposed to be working with Seth, but Seth just rolled in alone and high as a kite. He said they hadn’t been doing anything, but the boy smells...” The radio went silent for a moment before it crackled to life again. “I think they’ve been doing some weed.”

“Stupid idiots.” Luckily Jake hadn’t pressed the talk button on the radio. Though Butch might agree with Jake’s assessment, he wouldn’t tolerate anyone, even his bosses, insulting his grandson.

Ben lifted his radio and keyed the mike. “Did Seth say where they were, or where Cody might be heading? And were they on horses or on the quads?”

“They took the machines,” Butch replied. “Near as I can figure, they got in an argument over by The Hollow and Cody mentioned he was heading through the pass toward Copper Hill.”

Shit. That meant he’d have to drive right by the mining site, an area riddled with sinkholes that would collapse if you so much as breathed on them. A drunk or high teen on a quad wouldn’t even slow down for the signs telling trespassers to stay the hell away. If they were lucky they could catch him before he got to the pass.

Gabe and Allie had wheeled their horses around, and stood waiting. The water he’d forced Allie to drink had perked her up—she looked less flushed now—but he wasn’t about to risk her neck by taking her on an excursion that might leave them riding late into the night. “Gabe, can you take Allie back to the house while Jake and I go find Butch’s idiot grandson?”

Allie shook her head. “I’d like to stay if it’s all right with you.”

“We could cover more ground if we had Gabe with us,” Jake said quietly. “We could split up three ways. You could keep Allie with you if you’re worried about her. Or you could drop her off at the hunting lodge—we’ll be passing by it, if he really is heading to Copper Hill.”

There’d be food and fresh water there. And air conditioning too.

Relieved to have a solution that would keep them both happy, Ben handed Allie his remaining water bottle. “Keep drinking while we’re riding. And once we reach the lodge, you’re going to stay there until we get back.”

“I’m not a total greenhorn,” she grumbled. But she uncapped the water bottle and took a healthy slug.

They were on the path that led between The Hollow and the Copper Hill pass when Jake called a halt. He swung off the ATV and clambered down a gully, returning with Cody’s straw cowboy hat. “There was a broken vodka bottle down there too.”

After another check to make sure Allie was drinking her water, Ben urged Rusher forward, following the quad tracks that veered more than once off the path and...into a sorghum field.

Ben closed his eyes and swore. They hadn’t lost the entire field, but enough that they would lose money.

“At least it’ll make him easy to track?” Gabe offered with a tight smile.

It did. The lazy circles of flattened crop showed Cody had exited the sorghum field at the far end.

“Meet you on the other side. No use me flattening more of the crop.” Jake wheeled his quad over to the fence line as they followed the tracks.

Halfway up the next hill they retrieved a discarded shoe, a few paces beyond a white sock fluttered off a prickly pear. As they wound their way down the hill, they spotted Jake sitting at the side of the river.

Once the three of them had their horses flank to flank, Jake gestured in frustration to the sleeping figure propped up against a tree on the other side of the river. “Can you believe this kid?”

“Where’s his quad?” Allie wondered.

“In the water.” Gabe pointed to the tracks just beyond that led, yup, straight into the river at its deepest point.

“My vote’s for leaving him there and letting him find his own way back,” Jake grumbled. “Or better yet, calling Butch and telling him where to find his grandson.”

Ben snorted. “And have to tell Bitsey her father was arrested for beating the living piss out of his grandson? I am not volunteering for that duty.” Not that he really believed Butch would lay a hand on the boy. “I’ll go get him. Jake, why don’t you and Gabe see if you can rescue the quad and get it going?”