Authors: Susan Fleming
Epilogue
Lori loved the outdoors. She loved the campground she lived on, especially. That was good, since she ran it. Vince told her it was a weird request, given all that had happened to her there. Still, Lori had wanted the campground for her own and, ever since they had first met, Vince could refuse her almost nothing.
The campground made a profit. Lori had a head for business and very few scruples. She had had no qualms with capitalizing on the campground's recent and very brutal past. People came from far and wide to take hikes on the haunted murder trails.
“I heard some guests say they saw the ghost of your sister,” said Vince, coming up behind Lori and wrapping his arms around her.
Lori turned in his arms. She stood on her tiptoes and hugged him. “I missed you,” she said, which was the truth. She missed him when he went away on business - which was often. Usually, she went with him. Oftentimes, she was needed back here, though. It was business. She didn’t mind.
“I missed you, too,” Vince assured her, and they kissed. “The camp is doing very well for itself.”
“As are you,” said Lori, straightening his lapels. “I talked to your assistant. I heard about the last deal you made. Well done.”
Vince made a face at that. “I was hoping to surprise you.”
“I think I’ve had enough surprised for one life time,” said Lori.
“How about I just take you out to dinner then?” asked Vince. “So we can celebrate?”
“I’d like that,” said Lori, being honest. She knew about the engagement ring in his pocket. His assistant had spilled the beans about that, too. Lori wouldn’t let on that she knew about that, though. She hated surprises, but she did love Vince. She would tell him yes when he asked. She would tell him yes and act for all the world like his popping the question was a complete and utter surprise.
A Clean Historical Romance
This deliciously dirty story is a part of Susan Fleming’s super-charged, highly lewd collection of love and lust, written in 2015. Those who attempt to steal any part of this goldmine and take it as their own risk being a fiery, hot death from a hunk bearing copyright notices—and she’s not about to play with you.
This is a work of fiction—although we wish that people like this really existed, it’s nothing more than a figment of a very, very overactive imagination. Any resemblance to someone you know, a place you love or anything you hold dear to your heart is nothing more than a craving in your heart that these carnal desires and actions were true!
It goes without saying that this book oozes with erotic sex appeal, and is filled to the rafters with a smorgasbord of acts that you certainly wouldn’t tell your grandmother about. Bodice-ripping, panty-dropping and glasses-steaming, the scenes contained herein are wickedly naughty!
Although all the saucy characters are flirting with forbidden desires and sometimes taking the naughty fruit they really shouldn’t be, all are consenting adults over the age of 18 and not blood-related. What they are is passionate and eager to explore their carnal desires all day long.
In short, this book is going to get you very, very hot!
© Susan Fleming
All Rights Reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any many whatsoever without the express permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locations is purely coincidental. The characters are all productions of the author’s imagination. Please note that this work is intended only for adults age 18 and over. All characters represented are age 18 or over.
Table Of Contents
Chapter 1: The Horse-trader’s Daughter
Chapter 2: There’s A New Smith In Town
Chapter 3: Pine Bluff’s Welcome
Chapter 4: “Blessed Be The Ties That Bind”
Chapter 5: Pay Back
Chapter 6: The Plan
Chapter 7: The Plan Backfires
Chapter 8: I Do
Chapter 9: The Challenge
Chapter 10: The Showdown
Chapter 1
The Horse-trader’s Daughter
Lena looked out her bedroom window on the second floor and saw three strange men approaching the house.
“Papa!” Lena cried out. “Papa, where are you?”
Lena hurried down the stairs and called again. There was no sign of her father anywhere. His bedroom looked untouched since yesterday. This is why she worried every time he went to town late at night. She knew the spirits at the saloon were too much for her father to handle.
She made her way to the barn. Perhaps he spent the night out there. She opened the large door and felt a little better when she saw her father’s horse in his stall. At least he made it home.
“Papa?”
Lena heard rustling in the hay loft. “Papa, are you up there?”
Lena saw her father peek over the railing while he rubbed his head. “What’s all the commotion?”
“There are three men on their way here whom I’ve never seen before. They are travelling by horse. They’ll be here any minute. I need you to pull yourself together. Most likely, they are here to buy a horse.”
Albert rubbed his eyes and took a few steps forward, and stumbled down the stairs. He started laughing when he landed on the ground.
Lena shook her head. “I can’t do this alone, Papa. Please.”
“Oh, you worry too much, darlin’. I’m right here.” Albert dusted off his clothes and walked out the door. Lena followed him.
The men were just arriving on their property.
Albert opened his arms wide toward the visitors. “Welcome, gentlemen. How may I help you on this fine day?”
“You the horse trader?” the leader said and then spit on the ground. Lena wrinkled her nose at the sight.
“Yes, I am,” Albert cheerfully answered. “Are you looking to buy or sell?”
“Both. We’ve travelled far. We have more travelin’ to do. You got any fresh ‘uns?”
Albert turned away from the men and looked at Lena with a questioning face. Lena nodded toward the front pasture.
Albert turned back to the men. “You bet’cha we do. Follow me.”
The men dismounted their horses. The leader spit on the ground again. “I’m Raymond, and this is Bert and Chester. We’ll take a look at what ‘cha got.”
Lena walked by her father’s side toward the front pasture. There was something about these men that made her feel uneasy. Even though her father was not in the best shape, she was glad she was not alone. She put her arm in his. She felt more secure, and she hoped he would walk a little more straight with her aide.
On the way to the fence, she whispered in her father’s ear. “The palomino filly is our newest and youngest at two years old. Also, the two mustang geldings - buck skin and black. They’d be good for long rides.”
Albert stopped at the fence. “I’ll bring some horses to you that I think you’ll like.” He climbed over the wooden rails and walked into the pasture toward the horses.
Lena leaned against fence and watched her father while the men stood behind her. She could feel their eyes on her.
“Well, well, what do we have here, boys? Looks like an angel,” Raymond jeered.
Bert and Chester whooped and hollered like hyenas on a hunt.
Lena rolled her eyes and tried to ignore them.
“A virgin angel, I’ll bet, boys,” Raymond taunted. “See that round rump? Oh yeah, she’s ripe for the pickin’.”
The other men laughed.
Lena swung around quickly and shook her finger toward Raymond’s face. “You better mind your manners, or you’ll find there won’t be any horses for you at all!”
Raymond stepped back in mock fear. “Oo, a feisty virgin is my favorite kind.” He stuck out his tongue and wiggled it.
Lena drew back in disgust. She quickly walked back to the barn, leaving the business to her father. From a safe distance she listened to their discussion.
Albert returned holding the reins of three horses.
“This palomino filly is our youngest and the most fresh. The buck skin mustang is four and the black one is six years old. They’re both snipped, strong and reliable,” Albert said.
Raymond looked over the three options. “How much to trade our horses for these?”
Albert examined the men’s horses. “They look tired, hot and worn down, but generally in good health.” He opened their mouths and looked at their teeth. “I estimate them to be between ten and twelve years old. With these horses as a trade, I’ll need one-hundred dollars in cash for each of my horses.”
“What? That’s outrageous. Fifty.”
Lena pursed her lips. She knew one-hundred was a generous offer. She wanted to give them a piece of her mind, but she knew better than to bait men like them.
Albert stood strong. “One hundred is very fair. Take it or leave it, gentlemen.”
Raymond looked at his buddies and then back at Albert. “We’ll leave it for now. You’ll see us again.”
Albert nodded. “Look forward to it. Have a great stay in Pine Bluffs, gentlemen.”
Raymond didn’t answer. He just mounted his horse and rode off with his small gang following in his dust.
Lena joined her father and watched them leave. “I have a bad feeling about them, Papa.”
Albert put his arm around his daughter. “So do I. I’ll sleep out in the barn ‘til they leave town. I have a feeling they’ll come back and try to take what they want for free.”
Lena breathed out. She knew horses weren’t all they wanted to take.
Chapter 2
There’s A New Smith In Town
Jack was relieved to feel the stagecoach slow down as they approached town. Finally, he arrived in Pine Bluffs. It had been a long journey from Tennessee.
He stepped off the coach and retrieved his bag. He looked around at the buildings on either side of the main dirt road. On one side was a general store, post office, printing press and a fur trader. Slightly further down the road was the church and schoolhouse. The opposite side of the street was the hay feed store, livery stable and the blacksmith. That was just what he was looking for.
Jack crossed the street and walked into the Blacksmith workshop. The stone forge was straight ahead with various size vices near it. The grinding wheel and anvil were on the right side of the shop, and the left side was stacked with scrap metal, unfinished projects and broken items.
“Uncle Otto? Are you here?” Jack called out.
He saw no one, so Jack walked toward the stairs that led to Otto’s living space above the shop. Jack reached the top of the stairs and called for his uncle again.
An old man, using a cane for support on one side, shuffled across the floor to meet him. Jack hardly recognized his uncle. His hair had turned white, and his left side drooped. Jack knew he had a stroke, which was why he was there to help, he just hadn’t thought about how different Otto would look.
Otto raised his right hand and hobbled toward Jack. “Jack! Glad you made it.”
Jack hugged Otto. “Me too. How are you?”
Otto hung on to a table with his right hand. “I’m barely gettin’ by since my stroke. Walking is hard, talking is hard, and blacksmithing is downright near impossible.”
Jack listened intently. It was difficult to understand Otto sometimes since only one side of his face could move, but he caught the gist of what he said.
Otto showed Jack how he used a vice to hold the stick while he pounded with his good hand to shape the metal, but he would often lose his grip and drop the object before it was cooled causing him to scrap more than he created. It was costly and frustrating.
“Uncle Otto, you show me the list of things that need to be done, and I’ll get on it immediately,” Jack assured.
Otto put his hand on Jack’s shoulder. “God bless you, nephew. You daddy told me you were an exceptional blacksmith.”
“He taught me well,” Jack said.
Otto showed Jack the items people were waiting for, and Jack got to work. By the end of the work day, he had repaired four wagon wheels, forged and shaped several horseshoes and started working on a special order for a knife and an ax. He even took in some new work from three out- of-towners whose guns needed cleaning and minor repair.
At the end of the day, Jack walked up the stairs to find his uncle heating something on his woodstove.
“I have some rabbit stew brewing. You hungry?” Otto asked.
“Famished,” Jack admitted.
Otto placed a full bowl in front of Jack at the table and sat down across from him with his own bowl. Both men finished their meal before saying another word.
“You have a fine shop, Uncle Otto. You should be proud of what you have accomplished.”
“Thank you, Jack. The locals here are hard-working and doing well. The cattlemen are starting to settle down and homesteaders and developing their land. It keeps a smithy busy, and that’s good. At least it was good, ‘til this darn stroke, now I just can’t keep up.”
“Well, you don’t have to worry about that anymore.”
Otto nodded. “I can’t tell you what a relief that is. I set up a bed for you next to the window. Not much privacy, I know. I’ve always lived alone, so never had to fuss with walls.”
“That’ll be fine, Uncle.”
That night, Jack slept well, though he dreamed of the many projects waiting for him downstairs.