Second Chances (28 page)

“Hey, don’t be embarrassed.” Matt tilted her face to him. “I plan to
put my mark on you, too. Just as soon as I can gather enough energy to get you naked.”

Claira laughed and nudged his shoulder. “Remind me to hide the hammers.”

Matt’s brows drew together in confusion before the story he’d told her about marking his truck popped into his head. He burst out laughing. The first bout of laughter morphed into an all-out, contagious belly laugh that had both he and Claira sliding off the swing onto the porch floor, holding their stomachs and unable to breathe. That’s where Mason found them when he came out to dump the last of the bleach water he’d used to clean up the boys’ bathroom.

“What the hell is going on out here?”

Matt and Claira took one look at him and lost it. Matt clutched at his stomach as he rolled on the floor, his face red from lack of oxygen. Mason looked down at his black t-shirt and let out a curse. Splotched in bleach was the perfect imprint outline of the toilet seat he’d just cleaned. “Sonofabitch!” In his attempts to pull the shirt away from his chest he dropped the bucket of dirty bleach water, jumping back as it splashed up onto his Wranglers, some landing precariously near his crotch. “Fuck!” He toed off his boots then stripped off his pants and boxers and ran for the water hose at the side of the porch. And that’s where their dad Jake found him when he ambled out of his truck and up the porch steps.

He took one look at Mason,
naked as a jaybird with a water hose in his hand, and then swiveled around to look at Claira and Matt on their sides, gasping for breath. He made the sign of the cross over his heart as he shook his head and made his way toward the front door. “I don’t even want to know.”

Mason washed himself off and stumbled up the stairs
, using his hat to cover his dick which seemed to have escaped any harm. “Real funny till someone loses his balls.” He reached down to help Claira off the floor when he heard another car door slam.

“Mason Nathaniel, since w
hen do you prance around outside buck naked in broad daylight? I know I’ve taught you better than that!” Hazel climbed the front steps, her arms laden with plastic shopping bags. “Oh,” She glanced down at Matt and Claira who’d stopped howling but kept up a steady stream of chuckles as they watched Mason turn fifteen shades of red.

Hazel narrowed her eyes at Matt, and then loo
ked back at Mason, then back down at Matt again. “Are you boys using condoms?”

A full second passed before Matt and Clai
ra burst out laughing again. Mason swore under his breath. “For christsake, Ma. It’s not what you think, and turn around!” Mason cupped his dick and balls and moved his hat to cover his ass as he moved to open the front screen.

Hazel looked back down at Matt then followed Mason into the house shouting after him. “Well
, why not? You know she’s perfect for you boys. What the heck is taking you so long?”

Matt sat up and helped Claira do the same. Both nearly breathless, he reached for her
face and drew her into a sweet, lingering kiss. “She’s right, you know. You are perfect. For all of us.” Claira smiled shyly but didn’t say anything. “I love you,” he breathed as he licked her taste from his lips. “You don’t have to say it back, but I just want you to know.”

“I love you, too.” The words came with no regret or second thoughts. She loved them all. Now she just had to hope
and pray it would be enough.

Hazel and her men had been a godsend the last couple of days. Claira helped Hazel cook and make her coveted homemade chicken and slippery noodle soup for the twins, writing down every single step so that she’d be able to make it for them next time. Not that she expected it to be near as good. The woman could cook her under the table any day of the week and twice on Sundays.

Jake, Joe and Nate
had filled in for Matt, Mason or Grey’s shifts with the boys when they needed to tend to any of the ranch business. After two days of vomit duty rotation and two full days of rest, the elder McLendon’s had vacated the premises and both Con and Car were nearly back up to full steam. Claira watched from the kitchen window as they played some sort of airplane game outside. Matt and Mason were somewhere close by. Grey had hidden himself away in his office to catch up on the paperwork he’d let slide while tending to the boys.

With all the commotion and family member
s coming and going, Claira hadn’t yet told the men about her past. She’d tried once, but Hazel had called just as she’d gotten them all gathered at the kitchen table and said that Josiah was on his way over with new bed linens she’d bought for the boy’s beds. She decided then to wait until this current crisis was over before she started a new one.

Right now she
couldn’t think of anything except the dirty words Grey had whispered in her ear after breakfast. She nearly dropped a plate of fudge she’d made for the men when goose bumps bloomed over her arms at just the memory of what he’d promised. The boys were going to stay the night at their Uncle Cade’s house while they planned to corrupt her with all sorts of blissful debauchery. Which, she was told, included Grey taking her ass with his mammoth cock. Another shiver chattered along her spine and she braced herself against the kitchen sink.

W
hen she glanced outside she noticed the twins were no longer playing where they’d been. She grabbed a dishtowel to dry her hands then walked to the back door to see where they’d gone. Her heart plummeted to her toes when she spotted Con climbing after Car into the old dead tree near the half-finished feed shed.

Her feet flew over the uneven ground, her singular purpose to get to th
e boys. “Carson! Connor! Get down from there right now!”

She reached the base of the tree and was nearly half way up when Con slipped from the branch just above her. She screamed as she reached out to grab anything she could reach when thankfully he stopped in mid –air. He was still just out of reach, the
back of his shirt snagged on the branch just above his head. Claira’s heart leapt inside her chest. “Con, don’t move,” she nearly whispered, afraid even the slightest wisp of her breath would send him crashing the fifteen or twenty feet to the ground. She looked down and her head spun. She didn’t know how far it was, but it would hurt if he fell.

She glanced up at Carson and then back down to Con, shock
filling both their faces. “Both of you, don’t move.” She gathered her skirt around her knees and looked around at the other branches. She needed to get a better grip on the branch above her to be able to reach out for Con and not drop him. Twisting around onto her other foot, she glanced out toward the barn to see if the guys were coming to help.

At first she didn’t see him. All she’d seen was the outline of a long rifle perched on t
he roof of the feed shed. Recognition hit as she followed the long, dark extension of the man’s arm to see Mr. Kendal’s face staring down the barrel at her.

Mason heard h
er shouts from the training corral behind the barn and ran around to see what all the fuss was about. Without a millisecond of hesitation he shouted for Matt, who was in the barn, and took off after her. He cleared the first fence and sprinted for the second that stood between him and his boys. “Carson you get down here this instant! Claira, don’t move!”

Everything else from that moment on seemed to happen in excruciatingly slow motion. Con had stopped climbing about midway up and slipped, his shirt catching on a gnarled knot on the side of one of the smaller dead branches. Claira had climbed up after him, her long, red skirt tailing behind her. She’d settled into the crook of the two main branches and was reaching out to grab him when a loud
crack
filled the air around them and she crashed to the ground below.

Mason
wasn’t sure where he’d come from, but Matt reached the base of the tree the same time he had. While Matt stopped to help Claira, Mason bolted up the tree trunk toward his sons. Just as he reached for Connor another crack filled the air and chunks of tree bark exploded around his head.
What the fuck!
Someone was shooting at them! Without thinking, he grabbed a hold of Carson’s pant leg, yanking him down into his arms then lunged for Connor, grasping him around his waist as he leapt from the tree. Connor’s shirt gave way and they landed in a tangle of arms and legs. Connor screamed and Mason rolled to his side to get to him.

“Ow!
My arm!” He screamed when Mason moved to cover him.

Two
more shots cracked around them, only these were louder and much closer than before. Mason gathered his boys underneath him and covered them the best he could as he looked up to see Matt holding Claira to his chest, covering her lifeless body with his own.
God no!

Mason looked to his left to see Grant coming toward them with a black handgun in his hand
and a rifle swung over his shoulder. “Stay put and call an ambulance!” he ordered as he tossed his cell phone to him and jogged off toward the south pasture.

Mason scrambled to his knees but kept hunched
protectively over his boys, Connor still screaming and holding his arm. “Shh, Con, it’ll be ok. Daddy’s got ya and we’re going to get you to the hospital, buddy.” He looked over to Car and, other than a few scratches and his wide eyes filled with shock, he seemed to be ok. “You ok, Car? Are you hurt anywhere? Talk to me!”

Car
, lying on the ground next to Con, held perfectly still as he stared at his twin. “I’m ok, daddy,” he whispered.

Mason gave a brief rundown to the emergency operator and then threw the phone down and reached for Connor, pulling him into his arms. He heard Matt and Grey’s voices somewhere in the background but noth
ing seemed to be making sense except the sound of his son’s cries. He laid Con back onto the ground and tore his shirt open, running his hands over every bit of skin he could touch. No blood, no holes. He checked his scalp and then his legs. When he got to his arm, he let out a small groan of both relief and sorrow. There was no blood, but he could see the odd angle of the bones below his elbow and a swollen lump starting to form. It was definitely broken.

What seemed like an eternity passed before they h
eard the emergency sirens and he saw Grey run toward the house. He’d never felt so helpless in is whole damn life. He didn’t know what to do. Did he gather his boys and run? Grant had said to stay put, but he was gone. He didn’t know who the hell was shooting at them, if they were still out there.

He held Con to his chest and pulled Car closer
. Raising his head he saw Matt bent over Claira, doing something he couldn’t see through the tall grass that surrounded them. God, was she shot? He couldn’t see, damn it! She needed help! Con needed help! How the hell would the EMT’s make it out this far if someone was shooting at them?

**********************************

Grant dropped back a step and stopped, closing his eyes to heighten his other senses to the woods surrounding him.
One o’clock
. He held his .45 close to his chest and crept silently toward his prey. This was easier than hunting dear with a spotlight. His gut said this was not the threat he was sent to neutralize, but it was a threat all the same.

Stupid fucker.
Since not many people had the balls to pull the trigger on another human he could say he was slightly impressed. But this had crazy written all over it. Crazy lead to stupid.

A round, nearly bald head came into view as he crept up to an outcropping of
rocks just inside the tree line. A middle aged man was pacing on the other side of the largest boulder, only his head visible from the chin up, bobbing as he paced back and forth. He held back a chuckle as a mental picture of a carnival game came to mind.
Ducks
. He laughed to himself. Yeah, ‘Duck Shot’. Little yellow ducks with bull’s eyes painted in the middle, traveling in a row across a big target board.
Three shots in a row wins a prize
. He gave himself a mental shake. He really needed to get this job done and get the fuck away from humanity.

He studied his target a moment longer
. The guy was nervous. Talking to himself
. Ramblings of a mad man
. Yeah, this fucker was coo-coo for coco puffs, alright. He could take him out from here, but he might be useful to him alive, if nothing else but to confirm his target. He shook his head. It really wouldn’t matter in the long run if things went to shit. His cover was already blown to hell. Taking a deep breath, he tucked his pistol, gripped securely in his steady hand behind his back, and sauntered out calmly from his hiding place.  

“Hey
! What-cha huntin’?”

Stupid F
ucker stopped in his tracks and nearly pissed his pants right then. The guy didn’t appear to have any injuries, which just pissed him the hell off. He was sure he’d gotten in at least one good flesh wound. A .38 revolver shook slightly in his right hand, finger off the trigger, and beads of sweat dripped from the fucker’s face as he glanced nervously back at his rifle leaning up against one of the rocks…..four feet behind him.
Yeah, stupid is as stupid does.

He didn’
t respond so Grant took another cautious step toward him and gestured to the woods behind them with his empty hand. “Great place to catch a buck. Saw some pretty deep tracks about thirty yards in. Thought that may be what you’s shootin’ at.”