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Tormented is currently available in ebook on Amazon:
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And now, some leisure reading to heat up your afternoon... Chapter One of Tormented. Enjoy!
"The next time I decide to quit my
job, leave the city, and try to run a cattle ranch, just shoot me." Layla
let out a string of curses as the big beast she was attempting to milk kicked
the bucket over and spilled what little milk she had gotten all over her jeans.
"Forget it. Just shoot me now and be done with it!"
Warm, chocolate brown eyes watched her
with pity as Chloe, one of the two dairy cows she had inherited snorted softly.
Even the cow knew how pathetic she was. Layla righted the bucket and gave one
of the udders a good squeeze like she had seen on the internet. Milk hit the
side of the bucket, sprayed in her face and ran down the front of her shirt.
"That's it, I'm done." She rose from the stool she was perched on and
backed out of the stall.
"Come on, Chloe, let's get you out
in the pasture with Zoe. You two gals can soak up a little sunshine while I
figure out how the hell I ended up here."
Chloe let out another grunt as she let
Layla slowly lead her toward the barn door. Three months ago leaving her job as
a criminal defense attorney with a prominent law firm in Virginia Beach had
seemed like a good idea. She was exhausted, burnt out really, from the evils of
human kind. Spending her days with cattle and horses seemed like a great idea
at the time. Excellent therapy. Except she didn't know a damned thing about
raising cattle, milking a cow, or riding a damned ranch horse. Ten years of
riding lessons, prancing around an arena and dressing in fancy riding gear hadn't
prepared her in the least for the wild nature of the horses at her new home.
"Let's move it, girl. We're
burning daylight here!" At least she had the lingo down. Hours of watching
online videos on how to care for ranch animals had taught her that. Layla
laughed at the ridiculousness of it all. Once she managed to get the huge animal
out into the pasture with her calf, she had to saddle up the one horse she
could pretty much handle and ride the fence line. One of the videos said if she
didn't want her cattle to escape she had to check for breaks in the fencing. He
called it riding the fence.
Chloe finally sauntered out into the
sunlight and immediately started grazing the fresh spring grasses that were
finally poking through the old hay Layla spread during the winter months. It
took longer than it should have to saddle up Domino, the largest of the horses
in the stable. Country Cattle Man, her favorite video host, made riding the
fence look like a walk in the park so Layla figured it would be like one of
those mud runs that were all the rage now. Sloppy, sweaty, and dirty but done
by the end of the day.
The ranch was large, two hundred and
fifty acres of grazing lands for her income source, a mid-sized herd of Angus
beef cattle. A simple fence of wood posts and barbed wire snaked its way
around, through brush and fields, even crossing the small stream she had
discovered running through one back corner of the property. She didn't have a
clue about handling cattle so she had a couple of hired hands that tended to
most of that business. They came three or four times a week and did what needed
doing. Her property's perimeter fence she had saved for herself.
Scrambling astride her huge mount,
Layla urged the beast forward with a gentle nudge from her heels and a click of
her tongue. Domino just stood where he was.
"Come on, Dom, let's
go!" She yanked the reins, muttered
a curse and kicked harder. Domino strode toward the barn door. Apparently the
animal liked to be cursed at. Ugh.
Once they stepped outside, Domino took off. Layla gripped the reins and held on
as tight as she could. Domino always ran like his tail was on fire when they
first left the barn so she just held on and waited. As was his fashion, Domino
slowed to a decent trot as they crossed the field and headed toward the fence.
She got the feeling that the horse had ridden a few fences in his day.
Layla was feeling pretty confident when
the stream came into view. They were more than halfway through the day and the
fence had proven sturdy so far. She urged Domino toward the water. The animal
had to be in need of something to drink. As Domino did his thing, Layla downed
half a bottle of water and pulled her cell phone out to check the time.
Movement on the other side of the barbed wire caught her eye. Bright red shone
through the green of the trees and brush. She felt for the shotgun she had
gotten used to taking with her on rides. It was still slung down by the saddle.
The brush moved, a branch snapped. Layla tried to turn Domino away from the
water but the stubborn beast refused to move. She tried to set the shotgun free
but her shaking hands fumbled with the sling.
"Let's move, Domino!" She
tried to get the horse going but he ignored her. Panicked she yanked at the
shotgun, finally setting it free and raised it to her shoulder.
"Who's there?" She demanded,
hoping the shake in her voice was only audible to her. Something shot of the
brush, running between Domino's legs. The horse startled, rearing up on his
hind legs. Layla's body flew through the air, landing on the grassy embankment.
"Son of a bitch!" Ben
Callahan dropped the rabbit he was holding by the legs and sprinted to where
the woman lay in a crumpled mess.
A tiny stream of blood flowed from a
gash on her forehead. Ben grabbed the first aid kit from his back pack and tore
open a pack of gauze that he pressed gently to the wound to her face. She
stirred slightly but didn't wake up. He looked around for her horse. Where did
that evil animal get off to?
"Miss? Miss, can you hear
me?" He jostled her ever so slightly.
"Mmm..." She moaned and tried
to roll over.
"No! Don't move," Ben
commanded.
"What happened?" Her words
came in short little gasps. "Who—who are you?"
"Name's Ben Callahan and I'm the
guy who's gonna get you outta here."
Fear seized her expression. "I
don't need help. I just need to get out of here." She pulled herself up,
ignoring his command to stay where she was.
"You really should get checked
out. You hit your head on the fall." Ben reached for her but the woman scooted
out of his reach.
"I'm fine. I just need to get
home." She looked around for her horse. The movement forced the trickle of
blood on her forehead into her eye. "I'm bleeding."
Give the girl a gold star for the
obvious. Be nice, Ben. She just flew off
a damned horse.
A horse she had no business riding.
That animal was huge. Not at all the right fit for her. None of your business. Help her out and move on.
Ben reached out again, holding the
gauze. "Here. Use this to put pressure on it."
Their fingers grazed as she accepted
his offering. The contact was brief but electrified. Ben bit down on the gasp
that accompanied her touch. Did she feel it too?
You've
been alone way too long.
That had to be it. Two years living in
isolation would make any man hungry for a little close physical contact of the
female kind. He watched as she applied the gauze to her wound with tentative
fingers. She was pretty with shoulder length brown curls, green hazel eyes and
eyelashes that never needed to see a drop of mascara they were so long and
full.
Ben moved toward the woman slowly, like
he would approach a spooked horse. She had that same wide eyed look of fear. He
knew she would take off through the trees if she weren't still reeling from her
spill.
"You really should get to a
hospital. You could have a concussion."
"I'm fine. Just a little sore,"
she snapped, backing further away from him.
"I'm not going to hurt you. You know
that, right?"
People were always afraid of him. He
couldn't blame them, his disfigured body was nothing to look at—and nothing
compared to the emotional scars he carried with him.
She nodded but didn't look convinced,
although he gave her props for trying to appear confident. "I—I know. I
just don't know what happened to my horse." She glanced around as if to
make her point.
"Your horse took off. Probably
back at the barn by now, grazing the fresh grass and wondering what's taking
you so long to catch up. He'll expect a full brushing when you return."
Ben offered her a smile, a lot more crooked and uneven than it used to be
thanks to one very sharp blade and a pissed off Taliban soldier.
Surprisingly, she smiled back. Sort of.
"I guess I have quite a long walk
back."
"You the lady who took over the
Evans ranch?"
"Why?" She stiffened and her
eyes narrowed with instant distrust as she studied him.
"Just making neighborly
conversation. My momma taught me to be polite under every circumstance. Of
course she also taught me to offer a glass of sweet tea and a cookie to every
person that shows up at my place but since you caught me unprepared all I have
is a bottle of water and a protein bar."
The woman relaxed a little as she eyed
the bottle and bar he removed from his pack. He could practically see the
hunger and thirst in her green eyes so he held them out to her. "Are you
thirsty?"
She nodded. "Domino took off with
my pack. I was planning lunch here by the stream before—before you showed up
and…"
"And spooked your horse out from
under you?"
"Something like that." This
smile was bigger but didn't quite reach her eyes. She accepted the bottle of
water and polished off half of it in one gulp. "Thank you, that tastes good."
Her lips were damp and glossy from the
water. Something deep in his gut churned. He ignored the long forgotten sensations
and nodded at her. "You're welcome. We really need to get you out of here.
I've got my horse just over the stream. I'll grab him and give you a ride
back."
"Hey? What happened to the fencing
that went over the stream?" she asked, ignoring everything he just said.
"I removed it."
"Why? That's my property. You
can't do that." She motioned toward the stream.
"It was catching storm debris and
backing up the flow."
"You still shouldn't have touched
it. It's on my property."
"I don't know who you think you
are but you're sure no farm girl or cattle rancher. Just look at you. Are you
wearing designer cowboy boots?"
"I like these boots!" she snapped.
"Impractical. And proof that you
know absolutely nothing about running a ranch. Whoever put that fence up was an
idiot. You defending it makes you a bigger idiot." He tossed his first aid
kit back in his pack and zipped it up. Let her find her own way home. He didn't
need this sort of aggravation in his life.
She had managed to get to her feet, her
hands resting on her hips, full lips were pursed with anger and she looked
about to shoot daggers at him from her beautiful eyes.
Kiss
her.
What the hell? Kiss her? Where did that
come from?
"I am not an idiot! How dare you!
No wonder you wander out here in the woods alone. No one could put up with your
nasty attitude! Just where do you get off anyway, telling me who and what I
am?"
His nasty attitude? That was it? That
was the reason she thought he hid out on his own ranch?
"Look lady…"
"The name's Layla! Stop calling me
lady." She actually stomped her
foot for emphasis and it took all of his composure to not dissolve in laughter.
"Okay Layla, I'm sorry you're angry about the fence but it had to be
done. If that backed up it could cause a flood on your property and cut off
water to mine. I didn't know you were living here now. I figured Evans would
have wanted me to fix the problem."
"Oh."
He had just apologized, spoken more
words in one breath than he had muttered in months and one syllable was all she
could manage?
He let out a low whistle and waited
until his horse appeared through the brush. "I'm sorry about the fence.
Make sure you get someone to look at that cut on your head." He felt her
eyes on him as he splashed through the water and climbed in the saddle Sam
wore.
"You're just going to leave?"
she called after him as he turned Sam around and started making their way back
toward home.
"It was nice to meet you,
Layla!" he called over his shoulder. It was not nice at all. She had him
all confused with her hot and cold behavior. And the way he had been in a
perpetually semi-hard state since that first contact with just her fingers. He
didn't need that in his life. Nope. What he needed was a cold shower and a
beer. Maybe a thick steak on the grill and one of those potatoes he had managed
to produce in his garden. Yup, that's all he needed— steak, potatoes, and beer.
And to forget he had ever met the feisty Layla. Nothing good could come of it.
Even if they one day learned to get along, maybe she wasn't so bothered by the
scar on his face but there was no way she could look past the rest of what
those monsters had done to him.
He was about a hundred feet into the
woods when he started to feel guilty. He was the monster if he made a woman
find her way back in the dark—and it would be dark long before she made it
home.
"What the hell," he muttered
as he pulled up on the reins. "Come on, Sam. Let's go get her."
Sam snorted agreement and turned back
toward where Layla had last been. As they broke through the brush by the
stream, he caught sight of her making her way slowly and tediously along the
embankment. Her obviously expensive jeans fit her curves perfectly—as though
they were made just for her. Perhaps there was something to be said for
designer fashion after all.
He pushed Sam to pick up the pace until
they were right beside her. The little trail was barely wide enough to
accommodate them both so he let her get a couple of steps ahead. She refused to
look up at him.
"Come on, Layla, let Sam and I
give you a ride home."
"I'm fine, thanks," she replied
without making eye contact.
"It's a long way back and you are
in no condition—" Good Lord he had just made it sound like she was
pregnant or something. Smooth, Callahan. Very smooth.
"Why do you go on back to your
cave or rock or wherever it is you live. I've got a long way to go and I don't
have time to deal with you."
He pulled Sam to a stop and jumped
down. Leading the horse by its reins, he fell in to step beside her. "I'm
sorry. I can come across as a real ass sometimes."
"Hmpf. Sometimes? I bet you are a
real riot at parties and weddings."
She had spunk. And a sense of humor.
Two pluses in his book.
Why
do you even care? You'll take her home and then get to back to doing what you
do best—avoiding the world.
"I said I was sorry. I'm not what
you would call a social guy. I'm a little rusty on how to interact with the
general public."
"Yeah, well, I'm not a fan of the
general public either. Or guys who act like asses."
Try as he might not to, Ben was
starting to like Layla.
"My name's Ben. Ben Callahan. I
live on the next ranch over."
"So you said. I'm Layla. Layla
Evans."
"Evans? You related to…"
"He was my father," she said
shortly.
"Wow, I had no idea Evans had a
family."
"He didn't. Just a daughter.
Me."
"So, you inherited his
place?"
She nodded but didn't reply or offer
any other information. Her foot hit a loose stone, turning her ankle.
"Ouch!"
"Okay, Layla Evans, no more
arguing. Sam insists." Without another word he grabbed her at the waist
with both hands and lifted her towards the saddle. Ben climbed up and settled
behind her, his arms wrapping around her.
Touching her turned up the heat in his
blood almost instantly. His cargo pants couldn't hide his body's response this
time and he half-expected her to throw herself from the horse to get away from
him. But she didn't. In fact, he kind of felt her relax against his chest and that
cranked up the volume of the pulse sounding in his ears.
For the first time in over a year, Ben
actually felt a little bit happy.
