The McClane Apocalypse: Book One (48 page)

“That won’t be a problem on my end. I’ll keep a close eye on Reagan’s ass,” John says crudely.

“Right, we know. That’s kind of all you do. If you’d do less of that, then you’d get more of your work done,” Derek razzes his brother and laughs. It dawns on Reagan that John means what he said literally, so she elbows him in the ribs.

“Hey, he’s the one that brought it up,” John protests on a laugh.

The men continue their farm fortification planning, discussing what they’ve already done, and come up with new ideas that they’ll discuss later with Kelly. John tells Derek that he’ll put together some traps and explosives before he leaves with her for the city and set them up on the perimeter where the forest starts. They drive about another half mile when they come to a newer housing development with a formerly-manned guard shack complete with two wrought iron gates that have been demolished and bashed down, likely by a truck or large vehicle. Derek pulls slowly through, and Reagan can see the dead guard laying half in the doorway of the small stone shack. The brothers chatter on about which house to hit, but Reagan is still reeling from the site of the dead family that included two small toddlers who lay decomposing in that damn barn. What the hell has the world come to?

Chapter Twenty-two

Kelly

He’s hammered his thumb twice already trying to nail down loose boards on the east wall of the horse barn. All he can concentrate on is Hannah, and he’s finding that trying harder to not think of her is only causing him to think more of her. He’d even avoided going in for a mid-day snack so that he wouldn’t have to run into her in her massive kitchen working on some culinary masterpiece or another.

An hour later, he’s hard at work mucking the horse stalls for Reagan since they won’t be back for probably quite some time. It’s tough work, but she usually does it by herself. Even though most of the horses don’t get a stall for use, she does tie them in the stalls when she’s working with one of them or while they are waiting to be saddled.

“Cory told me you were out here,” a voice, her voice comes from the stall door opening, causing him to jump. She’s a sneaky little thing. “I brought you something to drink and an apple pie.”

“You brought a whole apple pie out here?” he asks with surprise. She’s lovely as usual with her hair in two braids today instead of one. It gives her a definite farmer’s daughter appearance, albeit a much more tempting, sensual version. She wears a pale blue apron over her white dress and small, ballet slipper type shoes on her small feet. She’s so dainty and feminine. It always unnerves him, like most things about her.

She laughs at him, like she does most times and replies, “No, silly! I didn’t bring you a whole pie. Grams and I make these little pie pockets that you guys can take with you.”

“Oh, ok thanks,” he says in return. “Let me wash up first.”

Kelly slides past her, trying not to make contact with her body or else he might lose control and attack her again like the other day in the back of the cow barn. What the hell had he been thinking anyway? At least he’d been honest with her when he said that she made him crazy because she sure as hell does. She just has no idea how much.

When he’s done at the indoor pump, Kelly takes the proffered can of soda and the apple tart thingy from her and gets a lovely smile in return.

“Would you like to sit and take a break?” she offers politely as if they are just taking a stroll through a park and are a couple in love. Is she crazy? He is starting to think so. Nobody can possibly be as cheerful as her.

“Uh, sure,” he replies, though that hadn’t been his first thought. His first thought was to tell her he is too busy, has too many projects to work on, doesn’t have time for her, anything to get away from her.

Hannah simply pokes her walking stick around in front of her until she finds her way to the stacked hay near the rear of the two story horse barn. She sits gracefully, feeling around first with her hand.

“It’s so peaceful in here. I always like it here, being around the horses,” she informs him. She’s not making small talk. Hannah doesn’t make small talk. It’s not in her nature to. Of course, he thinks everything she says is important and poignant.

“Yeah, I guess so,” he observes with cynicism. He doesn’t think it’s peaceful anywhere in the world anymore. At any moment, they could be put upon by bandits, rapists, murderers or thieves, and the thought of her coming into danger makes him sick.

“It is,” she says more firmly, and coming from Hannah, it’s almost like a scolding. “Do you like your pie?”

He hasn’t even tasted it. He’s been staring at her like a lecherous freak, not that she’d know.

“Um, sure. It’s really good,” he answers as he bites off a big chunk. Damn, it tastes great. Everything she makes does, so it isn’t exactly surprising. Hannah plucks strands of hay from the bale on which she sits and breaks them into smaller pieces. Her fingers are long and graceful. The other day they’d been buried in his hair. He remembers it all too well. She takes a sip of her own soda and smiles brightly at him.

“I hear a dove, probably on the barn roof,” she tells him. Where the hell is she going with this?

“I think you might be right,” he agrees hesitantly as he takes another bite of sweetened, tangy apples encased perfectly in a buttery, crisp crust.

“I read once that doves mate for life,” she says on a slight smile.

“Yeah?” he asks, definitely not wanting to know where she’s going with this. Hannah McClane is the most direct woman he’s ever known.

“I read a poem once that talked of the cooing of doves. Wanna’ hear it?”

“Uh, sure. I gotta get back to work though, you know,” he tries to make his escape, but she’ll have none of it and completely ignores him as if he hadn’t even said it at all.

“
I loved you first: but afterwards your love outsoaring mine, sang such a loftier sound as drowned the friendly cooings of my dove
,” she states in limerick cadence.

“Hm, sounds like he’s feeding her a line,” Kelly jokes, trying unsuccessfully to get her off subject.

“Kelly!” she admonishes. “That’s not very romantic, silly! It was written by a
she
not a he. She just loves him of which he returns, and the author wanted to show how deeply. Anyways whenever I hear a dove cooing, it reminds me of that poem.” He simply harrumphs at her, which is apparently not the response she is hoping for because she gives him a “tsk” of irritation. Great, now he is going to think of that dumb line whenever he hears a dove.

“The pie was great, but I should get back to work,” he says uncomfortably.

“No, let’s just sit another moment. Please,” she adds on so prettily that Kelly can’t refuse her.

“Um, sure. I do have a lot to do, though,” he says testily, wishing he could just tell her no, refuse her, rebuke her. Mostly he wishes he could get away from her because she smells so damn good.

“You always have a lot to do. Right now all you need to do is sit and talk with me,” she corrects him, leaving Kelly feeling quite put in his place. He squirms on his bale of hay and clears his throat.

“Ok, fine. What exactly do you want to talk about, Miss Hannah?” he inquires and turns to face her directly, though she is fiddling with the sunglasses that she’s removed from the top of her head.

“Are you worried about John and Reagan going to the city without you?” she asks directly.

“Yeah, a little. It’ll be weird not being with John, not having his back. But your sister seems to be able to handle herself, especially with that rifle,” he says remembering the night at the Reynolds farm with a frown.

“She’s a very fierce person to deal with when she wants to be,” Hannah tells him. “She’s always been a little bit like that.”

“Yeah, I’m starting to realize that,” he says and then mumbles, “She’s not the only one who’s hard to manage.” The coy smile on her mouth lets him know that she heard him. However, looking at Hannah’s mouth is a mistake of epic proportions.

“You’re the most difficult person
I’ve
ever had to deal with, sir,” she mocks.

Kelly shrugs, “Yeah, right!”

“You are!” she exclaims. “You are so frustrating and... irritating sometimes, too!”

“Well, you aren’t exactly easy on my nerves, either,” he comes back on her. Hannah’s cheeks flame. Kelly’s pretty sure that it is with anger and not embarrassment. “Sorry.”

Hannah slides her hand slowly over to rest on Kelly’s thigh, which he quickly grabs. Not easily put off, Hannah simply twists her hand until they are holding hands. Just her light, gentle touch sends a lightning bolt of lust shooting straight through Kelly.

“It’s ok. I’m not mad. We won’t ever be bored around each other. That’s for sure,” she informs him haughtily. Kelly shoots to his feet, dislodging her hand from his own and probably leaving her in shock.

“Don’t say stuff like that, Hannah,” he says gruffly.

Hannah stands and reaches for him, and because Kelly doesn’t want to be a total asshole, he allows her to find his chest. Her hand against his pec muscle through his sweaty shirt is too much. She steps more closely, allowing her other hand to also rest against his chest. Kelly realizes that she’s leaning close, her eyes are closing and she is almost swaying against him. Without meaning to and certainly without wanting to, he reaches up to cup her soft cheek in his calloused palm. He can tell when a woman is asking for a kiss. Hannah is practically begging for one, but it’s wrong.

“Hannah, don’t,” he states firmly and sets her away from him carefully.

“Why?” she asks so innocently.

“It’s wrong, Hannah. I’m here as a guest on your grandfather’s farm. I can’t go around... behaving like this with you.” Kelly turns away from her and begins organizing the horses’ lead ropes that hang from hooks and nails on the slatted wall. She’s fiddling with the ribbons of her apron when he turns back.

“Hannah! Kelly!” Em’s jubilant voice echoes down the barn aisle as she trots toward them. She’s sporting braids that mimic Hannah’s which leads Kelly to believe that Hannah has done it. “Look what I found.”

His little sister extends a bucket toward them where Kelly can get a better look.

“What is it, Em?” Hannah asks since she cannot see.

“It’s a baby chicken. We found it in this old bucket near the coop,” she explains with all the excitement a twelve year old girl should have over baby animals.

“Hm, I wondered why I couldn’t get the one hen to go in every night,” Hannah explains and reaches for the bucket. Em holds it closer for her as Hannah puts her hand inside without fear or hesitation. “At least there’s hay in here at the bottom. She must have made a nest for herself. They’ll nest just about anywhere.”

When she pulls her hand out, she’s gently cupping the peep in her small palm. She raises it to her face where she rubs its downy baby feathers against her cheek.

“Here, Em. You can hold it. It won’t hurt you. I promise,” she tells his sister and Kelly can’t help but stare at her face with fascination. It wouldn’t have even occurred to him that Em might be afraid of it, but she’s never been around animals like she is here on the McClane farm. She does seem a bit leery of it, though it’s not much bigger than the egg it had come from. This is all new to her, new to him, as well. The annoying feelings he has about Hannah all the time are also new.

“Will it die?” he asks Hannah. He hasn’t a clue. The only chickens, peeps or eggs he’s ever been around were served sunny side up. This bizarre farm life world he’s found himself a part of is sometimes surreal.

“No, it’ll be just fine, but we have to find that hen and get her in a box in the other barn or it will. She needs to nest with it to keep it warm. It won’t be hard to find her, either. She’s probably out there squawking and searching right now,” she explains so patiently, so like herself. “Em, I’ll be along in a minute. We’ll find that hen, and then you can help me, ok?”

His little sister nods, then corrects it for Hannah and gives a firm, verbal, “Ok.”

His tiny sister is still rubbing that little peep against her cheek just like Hannah as she traverses back down the aisle and out of the barn into the mid-morning sun which catches her chestnut locks and spins shimmering gold into them. The pang of responsibility for her stabs into Kelly’s gut or more importantly, into his conscience as he turns back to Hannah, who he can’t seem to stop lusting after nearly every second of his waking hours. He can’t even afford to think of some of the non-waking hours he’s spent dreaming of her. They are too explicit to think on for a fraction of a second or he’ll have to walk around this farm in a rather uncomfortable state all day.

“Thanks, Hannah,” he tells her after Em disappears. “You’re really great with her, with all the kids.”

“That’s no problem. I like her. I like Cory, too,” she acknowledges so simply. But of course, Hannah being Hannah, she has to add in, “I like you too, Kelly. A lot.”

She reaches for and finds his hand again which allows her to close the gap between them.

“Hannah, don’t, ok?” he practically pleads.

“Don’t what?” she plays coy and bites her lower lip and grins like a stealthy lynx.

“You are going to make me angry, so just stop,” he tells her, but it definitely comes off as a half-assed attempt at being firm. She smiles up at him, her strange eyes pinning his momentarily before she presses into his chest. “Damn it!”

It’s more than he can take, and Kelly yanks her to him and crushes his mouth down against hers hoping to punish her, to scare her off or just to quench his own lust. Maybe if he kisses her one last time he’ll be able to get her out of his mind. Maybe these damn wayward thoughts about her, about her soft, pale skin, about her full, pouty mouth, about her breasts that press against his chest in the most heavenly way will just go away. Maybe her grandparents won’t ban him from the farm or shoot him if they catch him kissing their precocious, innocent granddaughter, either. Yeah, right.

In the back of his mind, he feels her small hands clench the front of his shirt with both her fists, but he doesn’t care. His mouth moves against hers, his tongue sliding between her silky lips as his hands slide into the braided hair at either side of her lovely, upturned face. He moves from her hair to her small waist and up her slim back, nearly bending her backward with an ardor that he can barely contain. He’s never been so unable to control his emotions and feelings for a woman before Hannah. The temptation to thoroughly and completely seduce a woman has never bothered him before she came into his life. She cries out softly against his mouth as he continues his onslaught.