Branding A Legacy (A Silver Star Ranch Novel) (21 page)

Merek and Maverik are on their feet and next to his side, and it seems all I can focus in on is the slamming sensation running through the back of my knee. When I look back to locate the place of pain, I see a slight tear in the back of my jeans. A light trail of blood runs down the back of my leg as the pain continues to hammer away.

Sterling catches my attention during the whole slow motion event as he talks to someone on the phone. When he notices me watching him, he places his hand over his mouth to disguise the words being spoken. The tiny hairs on the back of my neck stand up on end, and then I hear her voice.

“Clover, my dear.”

My gaze collides with my mother’s. It takes me a second to realize she’s only standing a few feet in front of me at the moment, in her slick black pencil skirt and glossy spiked heels. She looks like she always has day in and day out.

“Mom.” My voice is barely audible as the bells and all sorts of alarms fire off in my head.

“Clover, you wouldn’t pick up your phone, so I figured it was past due for a visit. Come give your mommy a hug.”

My nose naturally wrinkles up with her term mommy, considering I was only allowed to call her by her name growing up. I don’t respond to her, and that’s when it dawns on me that all of the Slatters and Sterling are watching us with their full attention.

“Care to introduce me to your friends? Which strapping young man is your fiancé?

“How do you know that I’m engaged?” It flies out of me. I will not let her come between Marvel and me. That’s the line.

“Why, your uncle is the only one with a clear enough mind to keep me updated.”

“I haven’t talked to him in months since he kicked me out.”

She closes in on me with her finger raised and aimed for my chest. She’s a snake in the courtroom and doesn’t know when to turn it off. She never has. With each word she taps the center of my chest, and I stand there like I always have…hopeless and helpless. “You chose to move out, Clover. Let’s not play the victim here.”

My knees knock together, my bottom lip quivers in fear, and I’m back in my nine-year-old self. I take a moment to summon up the courage I need to stand up to her. Closing my eyes shut and realizing that I now know how it feels to be loved, I finally stand up to her.

“I was doing my job and was being demanded to go home by him.”

“Which one of these scums did you save?”

“Mother.” My hand strikes her face, leaving behind a stinging sensation. Hands grab me from behind, pulling me away from her, but all I see is motherfucking red and rage. I’d do anything to get my hands wrapped around her throat and enjoy it.

“Go ahead and tell her, my sweet Clover.” I look up to see my uncle Saint, and whoever’s hands were holding me are gone, letting me stumble forward.

“You son of a bitch.”

Marvel flies past me, lunging for Saint, and they both tumble to the ground with a cloud of dust circling them. Everyone jumps for the two men on the ground, and somehow I’m knocked once again into the bumper of the truck, but this time with much more force.

FBI agents swarm in tearing the two men apart. Three of them hold Marvel back while my uncle simply stands up and dusts his shoulders off. Marvel doesn’t relent as he kicks, screams, and spits in Saint’s direction. My head whirls and twirls on my shoulders, trying to process the situation in front of me.

“You fucking killed Weston, you bastard.”

An evil laugh escapes Saint before he talks. “I tried killing you so many times those nights in the desert, but you’re a stubborn asshole. And as the tale goes, it seems you’re more stubborn than your great-grandfather.”

The remaining agents surrounding Saint are now forced to hold Merek and Maverik back as they try to attack Saint. I grow sicker with each word spoken, slowly realizing who left the scars upon my lover. My blood, my genetics, and my lineage is the sole person responsible for terrorizing Marvel.

“But you know what’s better than killing you or watching you die slowly?” Saint pauses for a moment, making eye contact with me. I feel a shove from behind, putting me in the middle of the damn circle. I try to back up but my mom doesn’t let me. “Watching you fall in love with my niece.”

My knees crash into the hard earth when I look over to Marvel. His face is full of disgust and despair. He shakes his head side to side, trying his best not to believe Saint. But when he makes eye contact with me, I freeze.

“Is it true, Clover?” Marvel spits out.

I shake my head no but answer yes.

“She had no clue. We kept her in the dark the whole time. Protected her just like you’d want, Marvel.” Sterling steps up, now part of the inner circle. He pulls a shiny badge from the inside of his shirt. “I’m sorry, guys.”

“What in the fuck?” Maverik roars, coming into the inner circle, dragging the two agents with him.

“Maverik, calm down.” Sterling holds up both his hands showing surrender. “I was assigned this case. The agency knew I’d be able to come right back home and blend in while keeping an eye on you guys.”

“It was all a lie? Your dad isn’t even sick, is he?”

Sterling shakes his head side to side. “I was here to protect you guys. End of story.”

Maverik fires back, calling Sterling all the names in the book, causing the center of attention to battle back and forth between the two men and nobody else.

“Marvel.” I know he hears me but refuses to make eye contact. Saint’s chuckle fills the background. He’s the devil enjoying the hell fire scene he’s created around him. Everything falls in place as all the chaos ensues around me. The agents telling me to be quiet about who I’m related to and Sterling being beyond nosy.

I study Saint, wondering how in the hell someone could be so fucking evil, and as he laughs and enjoys the pain he’s created, I see my mother woven in him. It’s so painful I glare down at my palms facing me and then wonder how in the hell I came from such evil.

Saint hollers my name, and when I look silver flashes in my vision. He’s holding a pistol. I scream, but amongst all the noise it’s swallowed up. He slowly raises the gun in Marvel’s direction. Screaming again, no one turns to listen to me. My hands meet the cold dirt and spring up in action.

I throw my body toward Marvel and land short. Scrambling as fast as I can, I lunge once again, throwing my body in front of Marvel, who’s being held captive by the agents right when the pistol fires not once but three times. The pain in my knee forgotten as everything goes black.

I
’m always surrounded
in a hazy fog that I can’t quite explain. Voices, a hand squeezing mine, and the beeping monitors are the only constant. My throat clenches each time I try to speak the words I so desperately wanted to tell Marvel the night we were destroyed. His face ever pained and hurt swirls around in the darkness as I fight to speak. But every time I do a gagging sensation overcomes me followed by a ripping sensation deep in my throat.

“Clover, calm down. You can’t talk yet.” An unfamiliar voice surrounds me, only causing me to try to talk more until everything goes black again with all the stinging sensations fading away as well.

T
he corner
of this small room consumes me, growing smaller and smaller each day. I haven’t left the chair for days on end and also haven’t mustered up the courage needed to go to her side. Family comes and goes, force feeding me and trying to provide comfort. But it’s all too much to take in, and like a scab being torn from a fresh wound.

Her lifeless body lay where she jumped in front of me. Blood pooled around her limbs and dribbled out her nose. More shots rang that night, and when I finally looked up, Saint lay on the ground while Sterling’s smoking gun was still held up. The paramedics who are always at rodeos were invading us. My mind couldn’t comprehend why they worked on Clover and Saint.

Stunned beyond belief, I never knelt down to hold and cradle her like she did the night she found me on the dirt road. The flashing lights of the ambulance tore off leaving a cloud of dust in their trail, and when all the confusion and dust finally settled, a dead body was being covered up. Sterling aimed to kill.

It took countless days of Sterling and the rest of the agents retelling the whole tale. Not one of us Slatters knew Sterling was undercover until that dreadful night at the rodeo. Anger and betrayal strewn in all of us until common sense kicked in. Sterling was doing his job and a fine job at that. He’s the one who finally was able to put the devil out of our lives forever.

The picture was too blurry until Sterling had a heart to heart with me one night right here in Clover’s room. She genuinely had no idea that her uncle was the one who caused my family such pain. I had sheltered her from the whole fiasco, and the agents had warned her about telling anyone who she was related to. Her mother, who should’ve been prosecuted after everything, was turned back to California and asked never to return to Texas. To this date she’s never visited Clover.

I’m still angry beyond belief, but it’s directed at fate and the ways of the world. I should’ve covered Clover that night, bent down and cradled her, while whispering into her ear to hang on. But I let her lay in her own pool of blood while she fought for her life.

I’ve regretted those moments every single day of my life since it happened. She threw herself in front of me, took bullets with my name on them, sacrificing everything. I’ve never known a love so amazing and unselfish until her. And it’s just not Clover I have to worry about anymore either. She’s pregnant. Carrying my baby in her womb, and I’m the selfish fucker that let her take my bullets and accept my fate.

The monitors bleep out a rhythmic beat, piercing my ears. As of now the baby is healthy and thriving inside of her. Clover, on the other hand, isn’t doing so well. Too much blood lost and a bullet that struck her head have nearly taken her down, but somehow she continues to fight each day.

I yearn to touch her and hold her once again, but I don’t deserve it. I turned my back on her when she needed me. Her voice screaming my name that night, and I wouldn’t even look at her. In the heat of the moment, I second-guessed every single aspect about Clover, which was my biggest mistake ever.

“Marvel.”

I look up to Challis and Merek who just entered the room. A member or members of my family come and sit with me each day in the suffocating room.

“Here’s a roast beef sandwich.” Challis hands me a brown bag filled with food.

Over the last month, I’ve learned it’s better not to argue with them, because in the end, they’ll win the battle.

“How’s she doing?” Merek asks. He’s at her side with his hand in hers like he always does. They can all touch her so easily and without regret.

“Same,” I answer around a mouthful of bread and lunch meat.

Challis places her hand on the top of my thigh. “It’s time you forgive yourself, Marvel.”

They must have sent her since she’s the feistiest out of all of them.

“It’s time you go to her, hold her, and say goodbye.”

Tears well up in my eyes as I force myself just to eat the sandwich. The option has been put out there several times to pull the plug, but the fact she doesn’t have a living will and the baby makes everything much more complicated.

“She needs to know you’re here supporting her. When you give her that, she’ll be able to do what she needs.”

The tears pool over, and I cry for the first time in front of family. They don’t stop as they rush down my cheeks.

“She needs you, Marvel. We can’t help who we are related to, and you know beyond a doubt Clover had no idea. She loves you.”

“It’s not that.” I finally speak up through the tears. “I let her jump in front of me that night. Those bullets were meant for me and me only.”

“She loves you, and I know she’d save your damn life all over again.”

The sandwich tumbles to the cold tile of the hospital floor and I collapse over onto my knees. “I don’t deserve her.”

Hands pull me up and I know by the force they’re not Challis’. Maverik has joined us and is tugging me up into a standing position. Granddad stands behind him.

“It’s time, son. You need to go to her.”

Maverik takes one of my hands while my granddad clasps the other, and they lead me to the bed where a tube is coming out of Clover’s mouth. They guide me up to her, never letting go of either of my hands. It’s the closest I’ve been to her, and I find it difficult to stand up on my own two feet.

“Hold her hand and talk to her. She needs you, Marvel. Don’t let the past destroy everything for you.”

Granddad places my hand in hers with the comfort of his hand leaving mine. I sob uncontrollably when our palms connect. It destroys everything inside of me. I’d do anything to rewind time if I could. Take her pain away, stand up for when her mother and uncle came for her, and most of all love her with no reservation. It all rushes through me rapidly, but even more the reconnection of flesh with mine, it makes me feel our love all over again.

My family stands by my side, never leaving. I’m not sure how long I talk to Clover, but I never want it to end.

“I love you, Clover. Come back to me please. I love you and don’t care about the rest. Please.”

H
er hand clutched
in mine as we delicately make our way across the damp grass blanketing the gloomy cemetery. A light drizzle pours down on us in the humid Texas air. One of life’s greatest miracles captured in the safety of my hand, and I can’t help but smile how her little fingers barely wrap around my large hand, but she holds on tight anyways.

“Daddy.”

“Yes, baby.”

“Why do you always bring me here?”

Her brown hair swirls around in the humid air with her curious green eyes reflecting back up at me. Her crooked pig tails perched upon her head while her scuffed up hot pink cowboy boots and little skirt twirl as she walks.

“Because we can never forget where we come from.”

“Hank told me the other day something real dirty happens when babies are made.”

“He what?” I ask looking down at her.

“When you and uncles were branding, Hank, Hazel and I were playing on the loading chute and he said a dirty deed takes place.”

I pick her up in my arms, not ready for where this conversation is heading.

“Hank’s full of cow poop.”

“That’s what I told him.” Her toothy grin reflects back at me.

“He listens to his dad too much,” I reassure her.

“Daddy.” I stop walking and turn my face to hers.

“Yes, baby.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Miss Ava Ann Slatter.”

Her little arms wrap tightly around my neck as I make my way to the headstone.

“Daddy.”

“Yes,” I answer. Ava and her new twenty-questions game is nothing new and the most entertaining part of my day. I’ll admit, it can be a bit annoying the days she’s working with me on the ranch.

“When can I start wearing makeup?”

“When you’re thirty.”

“A girl in my class snuck her momma’s lipstick and wore it to school.”

“I don’t care. Miss Ava, you’re too darn pretty for that shit.”

“Daddy, you just said shit.”

“I did.”

The bright silver cross she wears every single day lays perfectly on her little shirt. It’s the only piece of jewelry she’s faithful to. She’s all cowgirl.

And if I thought the life of a cowboy was rough, I had no idea what being a dad to a little four-year-old girl would do to me. She keeps me on my toes, has me picking out her pink or purple outfits for preschool, and even painting her toes. And it’s at these times I’m the happiest in life.

“I love my new horse. Can we ride when we get home?”

“We sure can, princess.”

“Daddy, that was the bestest birthday present any girl could ask for.”

“I’m glad you love your Lollipop. She’ll be your best friend growing up.”

Challis already has Ava walking the barrels and tossing a rope. The girl is going to be a force to be reckoned with.

I tuck her head down on my shoulder to protect her sweet face from the drizzling rain. Running my hands through her shiny brown hair always soothes my soul from the inside out. Her delicate little scent, the touch of her tiny hand, or her giggle always warms my heart. She’s my life and little miracle bug.

The headstone we came to visit finally comes into view. The weather is shitty, but it’s something that I never, ever miss. My phone rings in my pocket; the name sprawling across the screen makes me smile like a fool. I hand it over to my little secretary and watch her slide her finger across the screen and answer it as I set her on her feet.

“Hi, Mommy.” Her face lights up, and I guess I was wrong—this is when I’m happiest.

“Um, Daddy bought me ice cream and it was two scoops before dinner.”

“Hey.” I warn her, tilting my cowboy hat to the side.

She continues to ramble on to her mother, and I’ve never let a day pass by where my knees don’t hit the ground and I thank God for my two miracles. Ava and Clover. I’ve loved Clover like a madman every single day since I went to her bedside that day in the hospital. She’s my absolute everything.

Ava continues to talk to her mother as I kneel down in front of the headstone with Silver Star’s Ranch brand centered on the top. Directly below is my favorite picture of Granddad encased in a thick glass. “Buried with his boots, hat, and pride.” It’s not a quote we would’ve picked out for him, but it’s the one he insisted on.

My life’s been a bitch with lots and lots of pain mixed into it. But the day Granddad took his last breath with all of his boys surrounding him was downright cruel, leaving us all hollow for a long time. My eyes water up just like they do every time I visit him here.

“Here, Daddy. Mommy said you’re in trouble,” she sings out in a sing-songy voice, handing my phone back to me.

“You little rat.” I pull her into me, settling her right in front of me as we both study the headstone.

“I’m sorry this makes you sad, Daddy.” She wipes a stray tear from my cheek with her finger.

“I’m proud. I’m very proud, sweet Ava. I’m proud to be a Slatter, proud to be your dad, and proud to teach you the ways of Silver Star.”

“We’re here to brand a legacy, Daddy.” Her tender little hand covers the top of mine.

I look up to the sky and know beyond a doubt Granddad is here with us walking by our sides.

“Now it’s story time. What story are you telling me today?” She angles her head just enough to place a kiss on my cheek.

“I’ll tell you about the time Granddad gave me my first horse.”

W
here the Slatters are now
…

M
averik’s days
are filled with giggles and mischief from Hazel and Hank. There’s lots of yelling, hugs, and kisses. Maverik works on the ranch day in and day out with Marvel. And even though Ella fought the idea the whole way, lil’ Mav is riding bucking horses and currently leading the pack his freshman year of high school. Ella gave up the hopes of getting a job contributing to the family and finally realized raising her four kids, Maverik included, was job enough for her.

Maverik’s favorite time of the day is still staring down at his name on his wife’s ribs before he sends up his silent prayers of thanks to the man upstairs.

M
erek’s
back out on the road with his little family. Challis and Merek have their hands full with a little cowgirl of their own. Paisley is the perfect combination of her mother and father. She’s feisty, determined, and quick-witted. God, bless their souls.

Merek’s never been happier after winning his last world title a few years back and is now on the road with Challis. He hasn’t been on a bucking horse in over a year because he’s been too busy helping Challis chase her dream. That’s right, she’s back to running barrels and kicking ass, and is set to go to the National Final Rodeo in Las Vegas in December with all of the Slatters there cheering her on.

There’s no other place Merek would rather be than beside his wife helping her saddle her horse and chasing Paisley around in the dirt behind the scenes at a rodeo. His heart is full, gold buckle case filled to the brim…life is good.

Merek never misses a chance to slap his wife on the ass or grope her publicly. Some things really never change.

T
hriving
on the ranch each day never letting his praying knees get lazy. Marvel wakes up to Ava snuggled between him and Clover and places a kiss on each of their foreheads before he gets up for the day. Clover is an amazing mother, taking her nurturing to all new levels at times. Marvel knows it stems from her shitty-ass mother and just sits back and smiles watching his wife love her daughter likes she’s a little goddess.

Ava, Hazel, and Hank reign hell on the ranch with several forts tucked away in the corners. Each of them has horses and go for long rides out in the pasture. Ava loves her aunt Challis when she’s home and can’t wait to run barrels like she does.

Clover’s content staying home and helping on the ranch. Her love for horses has deepened and grown over the years. Training colts has become one of her favorite hobbies. She also visits the nursing home twice a week. Clover came to the conclusion that she may have saved Marvel, but it was Granddad who saved her. She misses nursing and visiting with the patients so the nursing home volunteer work fills the void perfectly.

And every Tuesday, Marvel drives his daughter and wife to Ava’s dance lessons in that damn yellow VW bug with a shit eating grin on his face.

A
uthor’s Note About Granddad
:

Life is a funny creature. We live and we die. Blank slates laid before us to color a beautiful masterpiece. Marve Slatter aka Granddad did just that, creating a gorgeous canvas filled with love, respect, and honor. He fought for each day of his life toward the end, soaking up his boys’ happiness and his great grandkids that just kept coming. They won’t remember him or cherish memories in their hearts like Maverik, Merek, and Marvel do, but he left them the greatest gift. Silver Star. Granddad’s ranch will remain strong, drenched in honor and loyalty with generations of Slatter cowboys and cowgirls.

And he knew it would because…those boys of his were horny buggers with determination.