Molding Clay

An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication

www.ellorascave.com

Molding Clay

ISBN # 9781419910722

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

Molding Clay Copyright© 2007 Ciana Stone

Edited by Sue-Ellen Gower.

Cover art by Syneca.

Electronic book Publication: April 2007

his book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written

permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 443103502.

This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales

is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.

Content Advisory:

S – ENSUOUS

E – ROTIC

X

–

TREME

Ellora’s Cave Publishing offers three levels of Romantica™ reading entertainment: S (S-ensuous), E (Erotic), and X (X-treme).

The following material contains graphic sexual content meant for mature readers. This story has been

rated E–rotic.

S-
ensuous
love scenes are explicit and leave nothing to the imagination.

E-
rotic
love scenes are explicit, leave nothing to the imagination, and are high in volume per the overall

word count. E-rated titles might contain material that some readers find objectionable—in other words,

almost anything goes, sexually. E-rated titles are the most graphic titles we carry in terms of both sexual

language and descriptiveness in these works of literature.

X-
treme
titles differ from E-rated titles only in plot premise and storyline execution. Stories designated

with the letter X tend to contain difficult or controversial subject matter not for the faint of heart.

HOT IN THE SADDLE:

MOLDING CLAY

Ciana Stone

Dedication

For the “real” Clay—a cowboy who puts an entirely new

spin on the phrase “ride the wild bull”.

Acknowledgements

My deepest appreciation to all the people who were so instrumental in the creation of this book:

Clay—yeah I used your name as well as your body for this book. Thanks for always being there

for me, for making me remember that it’s the good moments that are all that are really important.

Suz, if I was a man you’d be mine, mine, all mine!!!

And Raelene, the absolute best publisher in the world.

Trademarks Acknowledgement

The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the

following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

Dodge: Chrysler Corporation

Levi’s: Levi Strauss & Co.

Patron: St. Maarten Spirits Limited

Stetson: John B. Stetson Company

Molding Clay

Chapter One

Rusty cursed as the fire truck pulled away, leaving the home she’d lived in for most

of her life a wet mess with half of it gutted and the other half covered in wet grime from

the smoke. Her luck had turned from bad to worse. Two years ago, she’d gone on a

bender and ended up in a cheap motel with Danny Stikeleather, a local high-school

quarterback hero whose glory days ended with high school. Six weeks later she realized

she was pregnant. Her first thought was to dig out one of her mama’s special recipes

and cook up a brew to rid herself of the child. But killing wasn’t in her, so she’d allowed

Danny to talk her into getting married for the sake of the child.

She knew when she married him that his promises to be a better man were

probably as valid as a four-dollar bill, but she never expected him to turn into a drunk.

Inside of six months, he’d not only lost his job but had lost himself in a bottle and

beaten her with a shovel badly enough that she lost the child. While she was in the

hospital, he got drunk and ran his truck down the side of a mountain, killing himself

and leaving her to discover that he had no life insurance and a mountain of debt.

Danny’s family had tried to swoop in and take control, browbeating her since the

day Danny died to hook up with Danny’s older brother Dennis so the family could look

after her and Blackhawk Farm.

That wasn’t going to happen. Rusty had never been keen on Danny’s family and

sure as heck had no intention of hooking up with another one of them. One Stikeleather

per lifetime was enough. She knew all they really wanted was to get her married to

Dennis so they could sell her land out from under her and take whatever money came

from it.

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Ciana Stone

That also was not going to happen. No matter how much they pestered her she

wouldn’t give in. She’d finally filed a complaint with the sheriff and asked for a

restraining warrant to keep them off her land.

That only made things worse. Now the whole family was gunning for her and

doing everything they could to make her life miserable.

It hadn’t been easy. She’d tried to keep up, to pay off the debt, to keep her head

above water, but there was only so much one woman could do. And truth be told, she’d

let some things slide in order to hang onto what was more important than a good credit

rating or even a roof over her head. Namely, her horses.

Rusty had inherited the land she stood on and ten good stock horses when her

mother died ten years ago. Today she still had the land and had increased her herd to

thirty-five, but it looked like that would change shortly.

The previous year, a cousin several times removed came to the Carolinas and was

introduced to Rusty. Ana Stillwater-Hawks. Ana now raised horses with her husband

Chase, whose family owned a big spread, the Circle R, in Arizona. Thanks to Ana, the

Circle R had offered to go into partnership with Rusty. In exchange for paying up all of

the outstanding debts, they would own half of the stock, and she’d work for them as

head breeder and trainer. All she had to do was agree to put up with one of the Circle R

men riding roughshod over her while she did her job, and the Circle R would foot all

the bills. And she would keep her land. The deal did not call for her to share ownership

of the land, only the assets. It was a five-year contract that was renewable at the end of

the term if both parties agreed.

Rusty was both elated and sad at the prospect. She needed the money to settle all

the debt Danny left her with, but having a stranger take up residence on her land and

call the shots was a bitter pill to swallow. But she figured she could live with a goat for

five years if it got her out of debt.

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Molding Clay

It would be good to have a steady income and Rusty planned on squirreling away

every dime she could. That way at the end of the contract she could decline to continue

the relationship and go back to her life on her own.

Ana had promised to visit in the spring. Seeing Ana again would be a treat. Rusty

had discovered during their first meeting that they shared much more than common

ancestry.

Ana’s grandfather was the brother of Rusty’s grandmother. Rusty had never heard

of Ana. Probably because Rusty’s grandmother had left the mountains of North

Carolina and moved to the Carpathian Mountains near Hungary with her husband—

his father’s people had settled there generations ago when they left their homeland in

Punjab, part of the displaced nation of the Romani people.

Rusty’s mother, Mary Puxon, was born in the Carpathian Mountains and grew up

there. At the age of eighteen her parents sent her to the United States so that she could

see the land of her mother’s birth. While on that trip, Mary met Russell Blackhawk, a

native Cherokee man. They married before her trip ended and she moved to Russell’s

home in North Carolina. They had five happy years. Three months before their

daughter was born, Russell died, thrown from a horse he was breaking. Mary was

devastated by the death of her husband. She named her daughter after her dead

husband and did her best to raise Rusty and give her a good life.

Rusty was grateful for all her mother had taught her and the love she’d given her.

Mary was a seventh-generation witch, what popular fiction of the current day liked to

refer to as a white-lighter. She’d taught all she knew to Rusty, along with a strong

warning never to use the Craft for ill-will or it would be revisited on her three-fold.

Rusty had tried to live by that rule, and not only did she rarely use her power, she

kept it a secret. Danny, her husband, had never suspected. Everyone knew that Rusty’s

mom was a witch but never thought that Rusty had followed in Mary’s footsteps. It

might have had something to do with the fact that Rusty was always outdoors with the

boys, running and riding and getting into as much mischief as any boy around.

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Ciana Stone

Ana had recognized it right away, and Rusty was secretly thrilled to have not only

discovered new family but someone who could understand things a non-witch would

never comprehend.

Rusty turned and looked at the sad state of her home. No use crying over spilled

milk, her mother would have said. Koda, the grey wolf breed who was her familiar and

closest friend, wandered over and leaned his head against the side of her hip.

“Yeah, I know, look on the bright side. Only half of it’s gone,” she said with a rueful

smile as she rubbed his broad brow. “Well, daylight’s wasting, and those horses aren’t

gonna feed themselves.”

* * * * *

Clay was swallowing the last of the cold sweet tea in his glass when his cell phone

rang. He looked at the display and grinned as he answered.

“You calling to tell me you’re ready to shuck Chase and hook up with a younger,

better-looking and much more intelligent brother?”

Ana laughed at the question. “Well hell, Clay, you know I like old broke-in

cowboys a sight more than young feisty ones.”

Clay laughed as he heard his older brother Chase in the background yelling, “Old

broke-in? You get your sweet little butt over here on this couch and I’ll show you old.”

“Woo hoo!” Ana replied then addressed Clay. “Well, I guess I’m gonna make this

short since I’m about to get lucky. I wanted to see how close you are to Rusty’s place.”

Clay heard Chase laugh and wondered what was so funny about him having

driven for the last two days.

“I think I’m gonna find a place to sleep and finish out the drive in the morning.”

“But it’s only six!” Ana protested. “And Clara told Rusty that you’d be there tonight