Espino, Stacey - Midlife Ménage [Ride 'em Hard 5] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (17 page)

BOOK: Espino, Stacey - Midlife Ménage [Ride 'em Hard 5] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)
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Before they left the bedroom, he cupped her face, looking down at her. “Everything will be all right. No fretting, okay?”

“Okay.”

They split ways. Wendy grabbed Wade’s truck keys and barrelled off the property before either man could think to question her further. As she neared her ranch the scent of burning wood was morbidly comforting. It wasn’t a wood stove on a cool winter’s night making the smell, but likely everything she held dear.

* * * *

Jackson found Wade saddling two horses just outside the barn. Two pickup trucks pulled up as he crossed the yard, fitting his Stetson into place. A sense of urgency was already in the air. A prairie fire was no joke.

“Where’s Wendy?” asked Wade, pulling the girth strap tight.

“She went to her place to get filled in by the fire department.”

He scowled. “You shouldn’t have let her go,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone. “She’s planning something foolish, no doubt.”

“If it’s dangerous, the firefighters won’t let her out on the land,” he said.

“Maybe. If she wants something bad enough, that woman will find a way. After we get this roundup started, we’ll go find her. I have a feeling she’ll be at her orchard with a plough.”

Sirens rang in the distance. More trucks meant this wasn’t a small, localized problem. If they hadn’t come to the Laweson Ranch last night, Jackson may have heard something—a truck, footsteps, something. He should have minded his own damn business after seeing Kylie’s black eye. Jason was probably eager for revenge thanks to his actions. Guilt weighed heavily on him as he mounted the chestnut mare Wade offered him.

“Time’s wasting. Let’s move out,” said Wade. He whistled as he cantered off ahead of him and three cow dogs raced out of the barn and followed.

They rode side by side, not speaking. The cattle were clamoring, probably sensing something amiss. Jackson had taken odd jobs during roundups and brandings when his events dried up, so he was able to get right to work moving the animals with Wade. He periodically looked toward Wendy’s place, a thin line of orange and red growing menacingly closer every time he looked.

Hours passed as he rode in a trance, his mind elsewhere.

“We should head back to the house. My men can push them back another mile, but they should be safe for now.” Wade sidled up next to him, patting his horse on the neck.

“Do you blame me?” Jackson asked. “You think Jason was thinking of me when he set the fire?” He valued Wade’s opinion. From what he knew of the man, he was honest and forthright.

“It makes no difference. I already told you I’d have done the same thing, maybe worse. We can’t predict the mind of a madman. What I’m worried about is our woman. That farm is all she has in the world, and it’d kill her to lose it.”

“What if the orchard fell victim?”

“Her and that blasted orchard. What I want is to bring her here. Both of you. It ain’t fun living alone on this ranch. I’ve wooed that woman for more years than I can count, and I won’t lose her now.”

“Let’s find her.” Jackson dug his heels into the side of his horse, chasing the trail of smoke in the sky.

As they approached the danger zone, he could feel the heat on his face. The horse reared slightly when he pulled her to a stop. Wade settled next to him.

“Will you look at that,” said Wade. The damage was devastating, but Wendy had managed to create a firebreak around her apple orchard. He wondered if the heat alone would kill the young trees.

“She ain’t here.”

“We’ll check the house then.”

They tore around the perimeter of the fire zone, galloping at full speed, but as they neared the old ranch house, there were only charred remains and the outline of a stone fireplace from within the wreckage. Four fire trucks were on the property. Other towns must have sent resources to help put out the fire.

They slowed to a trot before they reached the place where Wendy’s home once sat. Everything was gone, not just damaged, but nonexistent. Jason must have started a fire in the house, too. Thank God they’d spent the night at Wade’s place.

“Dear Lord, the fire took everything,” said Wade. He plucked off his hat as if saying a prayer to the dead. “Not a thing left.”

“I have to find her.” Jackson split up and rode to the small crowd of workers and neighbors in search of his woman. She’d be distraught, no doubt. He wanted to be her shoulder to cry on, her strength during such a tragedy.

He dismounted near a fire chief. “Where’s Wendy McCay? She all right?” His pulse was racing. He didn’t expect or want to hear bad news, but there was always that little possibility.

“Gone,” said the older man. “Said she’s going to see her husband.”

“Her husband’s fucking dead, for like twenty years. Why didn’t someone think to take care of her?” His blood began to boil over. It was Wade’s hand to his shoulder that kept him from getting into the fire chief’s face.

“Let’s go, Jackson. There’s nothing left here for us.”

He walked backward, watching the fire and the plane dropping a hatch of water over the ravaged wheat fields. That woman worked so damn hard from sunup until sunset. He could still picture the inside of the house, modest but filled with comfort and memories. Tears pricked at his eyes just imagining the damage through Wendy’s sight. She didn’t deserve this. Nobody did. He had to find her, hold her, promise her the moon if he had to.

“I know where we can find her,” said Wade.

Chapter Fifteen

Wendy wouldn’t cry. She refused to break down when it wouldn’t do anyone any good. There was nothing left to do, nothing prayers could salvage. Her home, her legacy, the only thing that made her feel worthy was gone. The fire claimed everything she worked for.

She sat on the only green grass in the county, staring at the gray stone in front of her. It was the first time she dared to visit the cemetery. It made her husband’s death too real, too permanent to see him represented by a stone marker. But it was time to say good-bye, to let go of the past and everything she thought defined her.

Her children were adults, independent and moving on in life. They couldn’t make her prouder, and she knew it was her hard work and sacrifices that helped mold them into the people they were. That was an accomplishment. Once she got into contact with her daughters, she’d assure them she was fine. Kylie could live on campus and Christine would likely move in with her oldest daughter until she finished school. As for her she wasn’t so sure what the future held.

Why did you leave me?
It was so easy to imagine what could have been, but where had those fantasies ever gotten her? Death was final. Her husband wasn’t traveling the circuit. He wouldn’t show up at her door one day and apologize for his lengthy absence. Wendy had already been through the gamut of emotions—grief, depression, anger, desperation, fear, and finally numbness.

It wasn’t until the past month that she knew what if felt like to truly be happy, to look to the future with optimism. She’d literally just lost the shirt off her back. There was no home to return to, no bed to climb into at night. None of that mattered though. She’d come here, to the one place she’d avoided, to say her final good-bye. The fire may have been arson, but everything happened for a reason in her opinion. It forced her to move on, to start fresh. Sometimes fire destroyed, but it could also bring new life. She saw herself as a young sapling emerging from the ash after a forest fire. There were only two things missing. And by the sounds of the footsteps, they’d found her.

“How’d you know where to find me?” she asked.

“You told the chief you were visiting your husband. We all know that ain’t true.” She didn’t turn around to see Wade, but his deep voice scared away her fears.

“It’s true. This is his grave. I came to say good-bye. It’s been a long time coming.”

Jackson and Wade squatted down on either side of her.

“Did you see the house?” she asked.

Wade nodded. “It’s gone, darlin’. All of it.”

She took a deep breath. “Amazing how fast the fire took everything. In a matter of hours it claimed decades of memories.”

“We’ll make new ones,” said Jackson.

Wendy slowly got to her feet and brushed the dirt and grass off the oversized long johns she wore. When she noticed what she was wearing, she laughed out loud, the sound a mix of humor and hysterics. Between her nerves, dramatic events of the day, and unconditional love of her men—she felt out of sorts. What she needed was a long, long nap. It would be nice to wake up and have all the wrinkles in her life ironed out, but she’d settle for a few small pleasures.

She leaned against Wade and closed her eyes. “Where’s home?” she whispered.

“Brick, mortar, and wood can be torn down and destroyed. Your home is wherever I am, baby doll. If I had to sleep out under the stars, it would still be home if you were beside me.” He held her hand over his heart as he spoke.

Her emotional barriers were disintegrating. She turned and looked at the gravestone one last time, knowing she had to let go for good. Then she gazed into Jackson’s blue eyes. He was a lot like her now. No set address, no roots. Together, the three of them could really make something beautiful. She had nothing to her name now, but these hot, sexy cowboys were still here, still wanted her in their lives.

“Thank you,” she said.

“For what?” asked Wade.

“For not leaving. For loving me.”

Both men held her, creating a cocoon of warmth and protection around her. For the first time she was going to allow herself to be weak, to let her men be strong for her. She cried. All the pain, despair, and helplessness she’d felt over the years came out in a great rush of emotional release.

* * * *

Two weeks later and life was starting to show some semblance of normalcy around the Laweson Ranch. The cattle branding was well underway, with Jackson helping to lead Wade’s crew of seasonal workers.

“You seen Wendy today?” Wade called out across the holding paddock.

“She was in the hayloft earlier. Haven’t seen her in over an hour.”

Some days Wade worried about his woman. He knew she needed time to become accustomed to living under a new roof and all the related changes. But at least he had her. It had been torturous wanting something so desperately, for so long, and not being able to attain it. Having Wendy underfoot day in day out was an actual dream come true. From the first time in the morning when her lips were swollen and hair in disarray, to the evenings watching the stars and reflecting on childhood dreams—he savored every moment being with her.

They’d been branding all day and the sun was now lowering on the distant horizon. The problems Wendy had on her farm were finally paying a visit to the Laweson Ranch. Even with all the expensive irrigation equipment in the world, it meant nothing when the land went this long without rain. A deep rolling thunder rumbled in the heavens. Wade looked up, holding on to the split rail for balance. “Will you look at that, Jackson…”

Dark clouds were rolling in quickly from the north like a blanket slowly being pulled over their town from above.

“It couldn’t be,” said Jackson. “I think I forgot what a cloud looked like.”

As the darkness spread, Wade felt the first sprinkling of drops on his forearm, a warning for what was to come. Another menacing boom of thunder echoed above.

“I’m checking the barn for Wendy.” The smell of rain hung heavy in the air now, the cattle in a ruckus. Any minute and it would come down strong, reclaiming the land, ending the severe drought that cost farmers plenty of heartache and financial hardship.

By the time they reached the large barn, the drops of water were big, making patterns on the parched drive. Wade climbed the narrow wooden staircase to the second level where he kept extra feed and tack. Sure enough, he found his sweet girl. She was in the hammock, gently swinging, looking out the open bay doors of the loft.

“We’re gonna finally get some rain, love. Looks like some prayers are finally being answered.”

She was so quiet, he thought she hadn’t heard him or chose to ignore him. Then she spoke. “I prayed for a lot of things over the years. Even learned to distance myself from God because I thought he ignored me. Now I understand. He answered my prayers the way they needed to be answered. It wasn’t necessarily the easiest way, but it left the biggest impression on me.” She used her dangling foot to give the hammock a little push, continuing her rhythmic swinging. “I love falling asleep to rain storms. They’re so violent, so full of passion.” She gazed hypnotically at the clouds rolling in.

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