The Devil's Cowboy (12 page)

Rafe turned to her and smiled. “I like that. Did you write it?”

“No, it’s something my dad told me a long time ago—about how to know when I’ve found a real man. He said a truly strong man isn’t afraid to be gentle. I see you with the children, the animals… you’re so soft with them, so kind. But I’m willing to bet you can be one tough S.O.B. when you need to.”

“Well, they don’t call me the Devil’s Cowboy for nothin’,” Rafe grinned. “Come on, let’s get you saddled up. I think you’ll like Cassiel—she’s easy-goin’, won’t give you any trouble.” He sized her up. “I’m guessin’ you don’t have a whole lot of experience ridin’ a horse?”

“Try none at all.” She stared at the big golden mare Rafe led her to with a mixture of anxiety and anticipation. She’d be damned if she’d let Rafe know just how much of a sissy she was. “Cassiel,” she whispered softly. The mare turned her head. “She knows her name!” Ellen cried out in surprise.

“‘Course she does,” Rafe replied. “Horses are very intelligent, and mine all seem to have special gifts to boot. Cassiel here seems to know just how to handle her rider. She’s the gentlest I’ve ever seen with someone who doesn’t have a lot of experience on a horse.”

“Where did you get the name Cassiel?”

“I don’t really remember. It just came to me when I first saw her. Truth be told, I think she told me her name herself, the same way Sariel talked to you earlier. I looked it up later—turns out it’s the name given to another angel in ancient scriptures.”

He led both horses out of the barn and helped her mount. After a few turns around the corral and some basic instructions, he reached down to open the gate and they headed out across the open range.

It was nothing like Ellen had ever experienced before. Rafe was right. Her horse seemed to know she was a newbie and Sariel kept his pace slow and easy as well, staying with her, looking sideways at her occasionally with those all-knowing huge brown eyes, as though making sure she was all right. Before long, she relaxed and Rafe picked up the pace. Sun on her face, wind in her hair, Ellen began singing every cowboy song she’d ever heard at the top of her lungs, switching from one to another whenever she ran out of words.

“Next time, I’ll bring my guitar and we can have a campfire and a sing-along,” Rafe laughed.

“Now I understand what Sariel was trying to tell me,” she bubbled. “There’s nothing like this—it’s total freedom. The space is so vast, the earth and sky go on forever out here. It feels like the entire world is spread out in front of us. I could ride like this for days.”

“Easy, darlin’. You’re feelin’ great now, but you’ll have some sore muscles tonight, ones you’re not used to usin’. We’ll take a break soon. I need to check on the fences up ahead and see to the herd. Jeb said he heard some coyotes howlin’ pretty close by last night. I want to make sure they haven’t gotten a hold a’ one of the calves.”

Ellen caught a glimpse of several cows in the distance and gasped. “Longhorns! I’ve only seen them in books and on TV.”

“They’re hardy creatures. All the longhorns you see today are descendants of cattle the Spaniards brought to the New World back in the late 1400s and early 1500s. Forget the Mayflower. These fellas have roots that go back a whole lot further.”

“Are they dangerous?” She eyed the enormous spread of the horns on a lone animal ambling toward them. “Just how big do those horns get?”

“Biggest on record so far is just a mite over eight feet from tip to tip. Longhorn cattle are gentle around people, but those horns are capable of inflicting some real damage if a critter goes after one a’ their calves. Still, a calf could’ve gotten hurt before momma got to it. That’s why I’m out here today.”

Rafe reined in Sariel and dropped to the ground, looping the reins loosely around the pommel of his saddle. “He’ll stay right here and keep Cassiel with him,” he explained, lifting Ellen off her horse. She wobbled a bit, legs unsteady, and he laughed again as he steadied her. “Feels a little like gettin’ off a boat, doesn’t it? Takes some gettin’ used to.”

He headed for one of the calves, ran his hands expertly down its legs and flank in one fluid motion. “This one’s fine,” he called out. Nervous, Ellen watched from a distance as he made his way through a scattered handful of cattle, stopping here and there.

“How many cows do you have?”

“‘Bout a hundred, spread out all over the ranch. They pretty much take care ‘a themselves. They’re a hardy breed. That’s why the longhorns are so popular here in Texas. They can handle drought, floods, heat, and cold—anythin’ nature sees fit to dole out. Plus they’ll eat a wide variety of plants and they rarely get sick. We raise them without all those antibiotics other cows have to have to survive, so the meat is much healthier for folks to eat.

“Jeb is on the north range, seein’ to the cattle there, and Steven rode out east, so between us we’ll have checked on the whole herd today,” he went on.

They mounted up and repeated the process several times, riding along the fence line in between. Twice Rafe stopped to mend the barbed wire fence, donning a pair of thick leather gloves he pulled out of his saddlebag, along with a coil of dangerously sharp wire. Ellen watched, fascinated. She felt like she was living in an episode of a TV Western, only this one was in color rather than black and white.

But these colors were very different from the lush greens she was used to seeing back home in the mountains. Here the plants seemed to come in subtle shades of gray-green against a backdrop of earth tones—everything from pale sand beige to the faded ochre streaks in outcroppings of rock to the dull reddish brown dirt underfoot, all arrayed beneath a sky so brilliantly blue it was almost surreal. There was a different kind of beauty here—stark and stripped down, the difference between an English drawing room filled with chintz and delicate figurines and a stucco dwelling in the desert sparsely decorated in a palette of neutrals. Like carefully chosen treasures, the hardy plants and occasional boulders scattered here and there stood out sharply against earth and sky.

Although they rode all morning, they never saw the other ranchers or any manmade structure for that matter. Ellen was a little overwhelmed at the vast expanses of raw land. She’d never been so far from civilization. There wasn’t a mall or a Walmart or even a Starbucks anywhere in sight. She suffered a moment of panic. What if something happened to Rafe while they were out here? She’d be no help to him. She had no idea which direction to head to get back to the ranch. He could be bitten by a rattler while he stomped around checking on the cattle and the fences and they’d both end up dying out here, alone in the wilderness.

Rafe was about twenty yards away, crouched on his knees, twisting together a section of barbed wire with a pair of pliers. He looked up suddenly. “Are you all right?” he called out.

Ellen swore silently. She’d forgotten how attuned he was to her mind, her thoughts. The last thing she wanted was for him to think she was a scared city slicker who couldn’t handle herself out on the range. “Fine,” she yelled back, forcing herself to sound cheerful.

He finished the chore and strolled back. She couldn’t help thinking how at home he looked here—lean and tanned, striding along in this alien landscape in his elegantly scruffy cowboy boots and battered Stetson. It made her feel even more inadequate, more out of her element.

He took her by the shoulders and looked into her eyes. Ellen fervently hoped that the anxiety she felt didn’t show.

“It’s okay,” he said softly, reading her fears. “It’s a big place—everything’s different from what you’re used to seein’. But you’re safe here. Safer than in the city, long as you pay attention to what’s around you. The horses will sense any danger long before you will. They’ll let you know it’s time to move on. Now that you know Sariel can communicate with you, trust him. That horse knows his way home better’n I do. If anything should ever happen to me, just give him his head. He’ll lead you right back to the stable.” He patted the gun at his hip. “There isn’t a single critter out here that will harm you, long as you stick close to Sariel and me.”

He drew her into his arms for a long, lingering kiss. “Now that I’ve found you, I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “Now, how ‘bout we head to the creek and see what Jeb packed in our picnic sack?”

“That sounds marvelous. All this fresh air and exercise has left me starving. I’ve worked up quite an appetite watching you work,” she teased.

“I’ve worked up quite an appetite myself… watchin’ this tight little bottom bouncin’ up and down on Cassiel’s back all mornin’,” he replied with a lecherous grin. He followed up with a forceful squeeze of said bottom as he lifted it back up onto her mount.

She blushed again, and then realized she’d never had her cheeks redden so often in her life.

“I love seein’ those cheeks get nice and red.” Rafe glanced over at her as he swung easily into the saddle.

“Those aren’t the cheeks I was thinking of,” she protested, indignant. “If you’re going to read my mind, at least do it accurately.”

“Oh, I know what you were thinkin’. But it’s reddenin’ the cute li’l cheeks of your ass that
I
was thinkin’ of,” he replied, not at all chastened.

She laughed in spite of her embarrassment. It was a real thrill to have a man put her naughtiest fantasies into words, right out in the open. She’d never been able to admit what she saw as her kinky craving to be spanked to anyone before. But not only did Rafe know her hidden secret, he even seemed to enjoy the idea of spanking her as much as she loved the thought of being draped across his strong thighs with her naked bottom in the air.

“Ah’m happy to oblige, ma’am,” he announced, tipping his hat as he grinned back at her.

“You’re doing it again!” she squealed, as a shiver of arousal made her panties damp. Rafe picked up the pace a little more as they headed away from the fence, toward a distant row of small trees. With her legs spread wide by the saddle, the rocking motion of Cassiel’s gait against her mound had her breathless with anticipation by the time Rafe reined in at a wide, flowing creek surrounded by more green than she’d seen all day.

“Ready to go skinny dippin’?”

“What if someone comes along and sees us?” Ellen was suddenly shy.

“We haven’t seen a single soul all day. Besides, if Jeb or Steve were to get close, they’d give us a wide berth… ’specially when they heard you screamin’.”

“Screaming?”

“Well, darlin’, you’re not exactly quiet when you come,” he announced in a matter-of-fact tone that had her blushing again. “I’ve worked up a sweat out here. Let’s get naked and get inta that creek.”

He slid out of the saddle and lifted her off her horse, then began unbuttoning his shirt as he stood expectantly in front of her. Before when they were together, Ellen had been grateful for the cover of darkness, the soft glow of candlelight. She’d always been self-conscious about the fact that her body didn’t fit the slender, sexy standard set by Hollywood stars and Victoria’s Secret models. Uncomfortable about the idea of undressing in front of him out in the open, in the bright sunlight, Ellen turned away, rummaging in her saddlebag.

“Wouldn’t you like to have lunch first?”

His voice was low. “Later.”

When she turned back to face him, he was right in front of her, stark naked, wearing nothing but his hat, his cock standing proudly at attention. She smiled. “I love your outfit.”

He reached out and put his hat on her head. It was far too big, and he tipped it back so he could see her face. “Now you look like a cowgirl… but I’d prefer it if you wore the same outfit I’m wearin’.”

Ellen couldn’t move as his hands began unbuttoning her shirt. He worked slowly, deliberately, taking his time as he stripped the shirt off her, then unhooked her bra. His rough hands cupped her full breasts and he ran his thumbs over her nipples, making them stand out. When his head dipped and his mouth fastened over one hard nub, a jolt of electricity ran straight to her core.

Ellen moaned softly.

Rafe’s hands were busy, unzipping her jeans and sliding them down over her hips, while his mouth kept up the delicious assault on her nipples, first one, then the other. She reached down to stroke him and he gently pushed her hands away.

“Not just yet, darlin’. We’re goin’ to take our time today, take it nice and slow.”

He fell to his knees and pulled off her shoes and socks, then slid the tight jeans off in one fluid motion. He put his head between her legs and inhaled deeply as he nuzzled the damp spot on her panties before pulling them off.

“I love the way you smell when you get hot and wet.”

Ellen blushed again. She’d never had a man say that to her before. “Wow. I’ll have to remember to put that line into one of my books,” she babbled nervously.

He spread her thighs apart and slid his tongue between her legs. Anxiety disappeared, along with all thought of shyness and embarrassment. She fisted her hands in his hair and let herself go.

Rafe brought her to the edge, then stopped. “I want to make love to you out here under the open sky,” he murmured. “I want you hot and wet and aching to have me inside you.”

“Yes, please,” she whispered.

He grabbed a blanket from one of the saddlebags, then picked her up in his arms effortlessly and carried her to the soft grass growing at the edge of the creek. Setting her carefully on her feet, he spread out the blanket. Then he reached out to take the oversized cowboy hat off her head. Tenderly, he bent his head to capture her lips in a kiss.

Ellen’s arms were around his neck as he drew both of them down onto the blanket. He slid his big hands all over her, tracing her curves, caressing her skin, making her squirm with desire. But he was careful not to touch her throbbing clit or her dripping wet core. Instead, he ignited every other nerve ending in her body, turning the backs of her knees, her stomach, her calves, and inner thighs into erogenous zones with hot fingers and even hotter tongue.

When he got to his knees and lifted her into his arms again, she sighed. It was a scene right out of a perfect story. She wrapped her arms around his neck and rested her head on his shoulder. But as he stood and began heading for the creek, her arms tightened.