The Cattle Drive [The Armstrong Brothers of Cedar Creek] (Siren Publishing Classic) (21 page)

“I don’t know?” Mark quickly spoke.

“I swear, Mattie. I didn’t call him,” Mitchell explained hurriedly.

“Well someone called him?” Michael said, standing up. “I guess it’s my turn to dance,” he said, walking toward the oldest brother. The rest of the boys just sat down and watched Michael head toward the dance floor.

“This isn’t going to be pretty,” Marcus quietly spoke.

“Who is that?” Carol asked, looking at Matthew.

“Nobody important,” Matthew responded.

* * * *

Rachael was dancing with a man who looked exactly like Michael. He held her tightly, moving her gracefully across the dance floor. He was taller than his brothers but not by much. His jet-black hair shined under the lights of the gym. His eyes, like his brothers, were ice-blue, and they sparkled when he smiled.

“So, you must be the little lady I have been hearing so much about,” Michael heard him ask in that irritating velvet voice of his.

“I guess that would be me. I’m Rachael Mason,” she responded.

“It’s nice to meet you, Rachael. Have my brothers been behaving themselves?”

“They have been perfect gentlemen. I’m sorry, I know you’re an Armstrong, but I didn’t get your first name,” she asked.

Michael watched as he gently pulled away from her and bowed. “Please excuse me. I am Mason Harold Armstrong, the oldest brother of that rowdy bunch over there,” he said, taking ahold of her once again.

“Well, Mason. It’s nice to meet you,” she said, smiling up at him.

Michael was not pleased that Mason had shown up. Out of all the brothers, Mason was the only one who always knew which buttons to push, and he pushed them often. There was never a peaceful moment with Mason around. He took over everything, running it like one of his platoons, ordering his brothers as if they were all one of his soldiers. Michael knew with Mason showing up, the shit was about to hit the fan.

“Mason,” Michael said, walking up behind his brother.

“How are you, Mikie?” his brother asked, continuing to dance with Rachael.

“I’m good. I believe this is my dance,” Michael said firmly.

Mason just laughed and continued dancing with Rachael. Knowing this was going to be another pissing contest, Michael sighed. He was used to the pranks between the brothers, but with Mason, it was more than just pranks, it was serious. Mason kept his emotions and face clear of all feelings. None of them really knew what he was thinking or planning until he was already in action. Michael was determined to steer Rachael away from the fallout.

“Mason,” Michael said a little louder.

He watched as Rachael jumped, knowing there was going to be trouble. Michael was not happy about his brother’s arrival, and something in his gut told him he might want to get some help. Looking over at the table, he found the boys all watching. With a hard look, the brothers all stood up and headed toward the dance floor.

“Maybe I should go sit down and leave you two alone,” Rachael offered. Mason just winked at her. “Now, darlin, Mikie is just upset that I have a beautiful woman in my arms and he can’t have her. See, darlin, he knows that I do many, many things better than him.”

“Come on, Mikie. You know this pretty lady would rather have the better Armstrong,” Mason said smugly as he turned Rachael into a dip.

The brothers were soon standing behind Michael.

Watching Mason taunt Michael, Matthew offered his brother a word of advice. “Mase, whatever you’re planning to do, I wouldn’t do it if I were you.”

Mason winked, and then, as he had Rachael in his arms, he lifted her back up and kissed her.

Mark, Mitchell, and Marcus quickly grabbed a hold of Michael as he lunged for Mason. Matthew quickly grabbed Rachael, moving her off to the side. Mason walked right up to Michael and smiled. “Why, Mikie, she is absolutely delicious.”

“You ever touch her again, you won’t ever have to worry about dancing with another woman again, ’cause I will break both of your legs,” Michael said quietly. Mason just laughed and patted him on the chest. Michael watched as Mason walked over to Rachael, taking her by the hand and leading her to him. Michael quickly took a hold of her around the waist.

“Thank you for the dance, Rachael. You dance wonderfully,” he said, looking at her. Then turning his attention to crowd that had gathered, he bellowed, “Where’s my nephew!” and turned to look for Henry.

“Well that was interesting,” Rachael said, turning to Michael. The expression on his face was murderous. Michael just stared at his older brother, who was now hugging Henry and patting him on the back.

“Michael?” Rachael said softly. He turned to face her, and when she smiled, he soon forgot about everything. He pulled her close to him, and soon they were dancing.

The house was quiet as he knew it would be. Making his way through her home, the anger he felt flew out of him in a rage. Before he knew it, he was knocking over tables, throwing chairs against the walls, smashing pictures, and ripping curtains off the windows.

Her office looked like any other room. He made good use of her chair as he tore apart everything in there, from her desk to her filing cabinets. Throwing her papers across the room, he turned and headed back toward the living room.

He quickly found the baseball bat in the downstairs closet and started hitting everything in his path. Making his way upstairs, he found her bedroom. He knew Michael had been staying over here with her, along with that brat of his. Taking the bat in his hands, he smashed her bedroom to bits. Finishing up in her room, he made his way back downstairs. In the kitchen, he made good use of his time as he swung the bat at the cabinets, breaking everything within them.

Feeling pretty proud of what he had done, he was about to leave, when he saw the boots lying near the mudroom. Something within him snapped.

“The bitch will pay, I promise you,” he muttered as he walked over to the stove.

* * * *

It was almost two in the morning when Michael and Rachael made it back to her house. They walked in the front door to find the place in total disarray. Her house had been tossed from one side to the other.

Quietly making their way through the debris, she walked toward the mantel over the fireplace. She gently picked up the photos and placed them back where they belonged. The glass was shattered out of them, but she didn’t care. She wasn’t saying a word. She was numb. She bent down and picked up her wedding photo, to find that the picture had been ripped out of it. Standing there, she held the frame in her hand and turned to look at Michael, who was just staring at her.

“Rachael, honey, I am so sorry,” he gently said. He tried to move toward her, but she put up her hand, stopping him. She slowly looked around her house, not recognizing anything. The couch had been cut and shredded into pieces. Her curtains were torn down. Her end tables were smashed. All of her pictures on the wall were gone, laying on the floor in thousands of little pieces. She made her way toward the kitchen to find it worse off than the living room.

Michael stood there watching her silently move throughout her home in a fog. He knew this was his father’s handiwork. He had started picking up the mess when he heard the other cars pull up.

Walking out onto the porch, looking like a ghost, he watched his brothers get out of the vehicles. Matthew and Mason looked over at Michael and instantly grew concerned.

“Mikie, what’s wrong?” Mason asked, alarmed.

“The house, he was here,” Michael said.

His brothers quickly ran past him and into the house and saw what their father left behind. Michael turned and followed them. He found her in the office going through her filing cabinet, grabbing files, pictures, and a photo album.

“Baby, just leave it, we can take care of this in the morning,” he said, walking over to her. She didn’t say anything. She just handed him the papers and walked over to her desk, pulling out the bottom drawer. She bent down, took out a small metal box, and opened it.

There sitting in a blanket of velvet was an old Colt 45 with an ivory handle. She grabbed the gun and walked out of the room. Michael followed her to the kitchen, where she found the rest of the brothers waiting.

She quickly turned to Michael. “Michael, that smell,” she exclaimed.

“Oh shit!” Mark quickly shouted. “It’s gas!” All of them ran for the front door, stopping near the corral, just as the house blew.

Michael and his brothers covered Rachael as her house exploded into a million pieces. The eruption startled the horses, setting them running through the corral gate. Matthew turned and started running after them, shouting, “The gates are open…the horses!” Mark and Mitchell ran after Matthew, trying to close the gates before the rest of the horses escaped.

Rachael turned as the ranch hands started running out of the bunkhouses, each carrying a gun with them. She turned to Michael and whispered, “Michael, the cattle.”

“Everyone saddle up. Check the herd!” Michael shouted, ordering the men to the stables. He turned to Kenny as the man approached. “You take care of Rachael. I have got to help my brothers.” Michael grabbed a set of keys from his dress pants and threw them to Mason. “My house is up the road on the right. The guns are in basement,” Michael shouted as Mason jumped in the Dodge and headed to the house.

“Kenny, get Rachael out of here,” Michael shouted, turning to mount Jasper.

Kenny took Rachael by the arm and walked her toward one of the cars.

* * * *

Mason walked into his brother’s house and quickly found the basement door. Walking downstairs with the keys in hand, he unlocked the metal cabinet door and grabbed the six rifles and six gun belts, each engraved with the monogram
M
into the leather. Mason knelt to open the black box at the bottom of the cabinet. There laid twelve pristine Smith & Wessons. Closing the lid, Mason grabbed the box and headed up to the kitchen. Laying the box on the table, he grabbed his gun belt and fastened it around his waist. Taking two pistols from the box, he twirled the guns in his hands before placing them at his waist in their holsters. He smiled. “God, I love Texas!” Picking up the guns and the box, he headed out to the truck as Kenny and Rachael arrived.

The look on her face as he left the house made Mason frown. “Don’t worry, darlin’, we got this. Try and get some sleep,” he said, leaning to kiss her cheek. “Don’t wait up,” he yelled before getting in the truck.

* * * *

It was an hour later when Henry came running in the house to find Kenny sitting at his kitchen table. “Kenny, Rachael’s house is on fire!”

“I know, son. Your dad and the rest of your uncles are out at her ranch taking care of everything with the rest of the boys.”

“I have to go help them,” Henry said, walking toward the stairs.

“You are staying right here. It’s your turn to look after Rachael. I have to get over there and help,” he ordered.

“But…” he tried to object, but with the stern look Kenny gave him, he just walked over to the table and sat down.

It was around five in the morning when Henry walked out to sit on the front porch. He noticed that the fire department was still out at Rachael’s, dousing her house with water. The flames were almost out, and as the sun started to rise over the horizon, he heard them riding up toward the house.

They all looked exhausted and filthy. Their faces were covered with dirt and soot, and their tuxedos were destroyed. They all climbed off their horses and tied them to the front porch. He watched as they all staggered into the house, heading toward the kitchen. None of them said a word as they each took off their gun belts and placed them on the table. He watched Mark go for the coffee, while the others each grabbed two beers and sat at the table.

“Where is she?” Michael said, turning to Henry.

“She is up in your room,” he replied.

Michael ran upstairs.

He entered his bedroom to find Rachael sleeping in his bed. Curled up into a ball wearing one of his shirts, she slept. Her hair was all around her, and her eyes were red. She had been crying. Michael felt his heart break in two as he moved closer to her. He pulled the comforter up around her and walked into the bathroom to take a shower.

He emerged from the bathroom to find her still sleeping. He walked over to the bed and climbed in next to her, holding her. She nestled her head against his shoulder and slid her arm around his waist. Michael closed his eyes, trying to push the nightmare of the night out of his mind. He was lying there in silence when he heard the door open.

He looked over and saw Mason standing in the doorway.

“Yes,” Michael asked.

“There’s a Judge Clark here. He wants to talk to you.”

“Tell him later. I am going to bed,” Michael said and rolled over, taking Rachael with him. She snuggled closer to him as he moved closer to her. Michael closed his eyes as he heard his bedroom door shut. He finally drifted off to sleep with her in his arms.

* * * *

Michael woke the next day to find Rachael gone. Sitting up, he walked to the bathroom and got dressed.