Authors: Marla Monroe
She located the shells in the drawer of the bedside table and carried them downstairs. Brice stood waiting on her, fully dressed sans boots.
“Do you know how to load it?” Brice asked.
She gave him a look and nodded. “I’ve been hunting for meat for the last three years. Got pretty good at it and the rifle. I just hate handguns.” She expertly loaded the shotgun, then carefully laid it on the floor next to the mattress.
“Hop on, baby, and let’s get some sleep. I know you’ve got to be tired. We both were up at the crack of dawn.”
“How long before you think Garrett will be back?” she asked.
“I figure in another three, maybe four hours. He planned to be back early enough that we wouldn’t have to worry about unloading in the dark. That’s why he left so early.” Brice pulled her into his arms. She used his shoulder as a pillow.
“I’m worried, Brice. Those men are crazy. They’re not going to stop until they turn me over.”
“Don’t worry about it anymore now. We’ll talk to Garrett and figure out what to do. Nothing is going to happen to you.” He nuzzled her hair and squeezed her for a few seconds.
Ronnie shivered at the thought of being whipped. She would run again if she had to. She would miss the men because she loved them, but she wouldn’t go back to the bastard who’d used her like a slave.
Chapter Thirteen
Garrett pulled up the drive at nearly five that afternoon. He was dog tired, but pleased that he had been able to find pretty much everything on the list, plus some. He hoped Ronnie would be excited at some of the things he’d managed to find for her. He had four cases of canning supplies, for one thing. Then there were the pretty shirts and blouses and skirts. He knew she wouldn’t use the skirts that much, but they would be nice sometimes to wear around the house.
He backed up to the back door. Ronnie came running out with Brice right behind her, fussing. Why was he fussing at her? Garrett immediately felt the tension in the air. Something was wrong.
“Hey, you guys, what’s up?” he called as he climbed out of the truck.
“Oh, we’ll talk about it later after we get everything unloaded.” Ronnie jumped into his arms and gave him a huge kiss. He hugged her back and kept an arm around her when she slid out of his arms.
“Brice?” Garrett asked, studying his friend for a clue.
“She’s right. We should get everything unloaded before it gets dark.”
“I don’t think I like the sound of this.” But he closed the door to the truck and walked around to open the tailgate of the truck. Ronnie squealed at the sight of the canning supplies.
“You found them! Thank you.” She gave him another sloppy kiss on his cheek.
They spent the next hour and a half unloading the truck and putting things away where they went. Brice made several trips to the barn and to the shed that held the tractor and gardening supplies. Once they’d finished, Garrett went upstairs and took a shower. He was surprised and a little disappointed that Ronnie didn’t join him, but figured she was too busy putting away the clothes he’d brought her. She seemed to genuinely like them. He hoped so.
After dressing again, he walked downstairs to find the two sitting at the kitchen table with a meal set up.
“Figured you needed to eat. I doubt you ate lunch,” Ronnie said.
“I could definitely eat, but I want to know what is going on.”
“After you eat,” she said. She poured more tea in her glass.
“I’m really not liking the sounds of this.”
Brice sighed and shook his head. “Nope, you’re not going to.”
As soon as they finished up the light meal, Garrett leaned back in the chair and gave them a
get it over with
look.
“While you were gone, the gang looking for runaway females showed up.” Brice said it quick.
It took a few seconds for it to sink in. Then it hit him. Fuck! He immediately reached across and took Ronnie’s hand.
“What happened?”
“They wanted Ronnie, but I refused to let them see her.”
“They were going to shoot Brice for not letting them in, so I grabbed the shotgun and ran around the house and cornered them with it.” Ronnie looked proud of herself.
“You did what?” he demanded.
“Yeah, she did. She told them she would shoot them if they didn’t leave, and then leveled the gun at their balls.” Brice took a sip of his tea.
“What would you have done if they had called you on it, Ronnie?”
“Shot their freaking balls off. I’m not going back, and they sure as hell aren’t going to whip me.”
“Ah, hell, Ronnie. There’s no way we’ll let them take you.” Garrett grabbed her hand and squeezed it. He looked over at Brice and caught the worry in his eyes.
“What are you going to do then? They’ll be back, and they’ll have more men with them,” Ronnie pointed out.
“Possession is nine-tenths of the law, Ronnie.”
“There is no law. That’s why these crazies can do this. There’s no one to stop them.”
“There’s us now,” Brice suggested.
“There’s us,” Garrett agreed. “Look, the entire thing is about ownership. They say this guy owned you. Did he have papers to say he owned you?”
“No. He didn’t own me. You can’t own a human being anymore.” Ronnie frowned.
“Now, you can. They buy and sell females in Border Town all the time. They issue bills of sale. It’s proof of ownership.” Garrett looked over at Brice for confirmation. He’d been out most recently in that area.
“That’s true. You buy a female, or trade for one, you are given a certificate of ownership.” He looked thoughtful. “So what you’re suggesting is that we draw up a bill of sale or certificate of ownership of her?”
“Hell no! No one owns me,” she all but growled.
“It wouldn’t mean anything to us, baby, but it would mean something to them, and they would leave you alone,” Brice told her.
“You’re both serious about this, aren’t you?” she demanded.
“Ronnie, we have to keep you safe, and if this is all it takes, then what’s the big deal? We know better. Why does it matter if anyone else thinks differently?” Garrett asked.
“It doesn’t. I just hate the idea that there’s a piece of paper that has my name on it as belonging to someone. Even if it is you two.” She sighed and rubbed her face with her hands.
“Let’s get to work, Brice. They’ll be back soon, I’m sure.”
“How well do you write?” Garrett asked Brice.
“Probably not well enough to make it look professional. I’ve always had bad handwriting.”
“Hell, mine is probably worse. My big hands never held a pencil very well.” Garrett sighed, holding out his hands.
“Get some damn paper and a pen. I’ll write the thing out. I used to do calligraphy.” She sniffed and brushed away a tear.
Garrett got up and wrapped his arms around her. “It’s going to be okay, baby. I promise.”
“That’s easy for you to say. You don’t have to have
owners
to be safe.”
“Here you go, Ronnie.” Brice handed her several pieces of paper and a pen.
“Let me mess with it, and then you can look at it. Go on and leave me alone,” she fussed.
“Come on, Brice. We’ll do chores. We can see if anyone comes up from the barn.” Garrett grabbed the milk bucket and handed it to Brice, who frowned. “Sorry man, I can’t do it. Big hands, you know.”
As soon as they were outside, Garrett cornered Brice. “Is that all that happened? They didn’t touch her, did they?”
“No, they never got close enough to, but they had been watching us all morning, evidently.” He told Garrett about the glint Ronnie had seen twice before they went inside.
“If this doesn’t work, I’m moving her farther west. Are you coming with us?” Garrett asked.
“Hell yeah, I’m coming. I’d already thought about that. I figured we would go on the other side of Sky Line, maybe a little farther north.”
“Good idea. The southwest area is pretty much dead, from what we’ve seen in the past,” Garrett agreed.
“Best thing to do would be to load up and leave in the middle of the night. We’d have to open all the gates and let the animals out, but they’d make it.” Brice set up the stool and sat down to milk the cow.
“I’m going to go put up the chickens so I can watch the house while you milk.” Garrett left Brice struggling to milk the cow.
Brice walked out with a half-full bucket of milk and a pained expression on his face. Garrett frowned.
“What’s wrong?”
“My fucking hands are cramping.”
Garrett struggled not to laugh at his friend. Brice must have been able to tell, because he scowled at him. He followed him into the house, staying well away from the swinging bucket of milk.
“Ronnie?” Garrett called as soon as they walked inside.
“I’m right here.”
Her voice came from the kitchen area. He slipped off his boots and peeked around the door of the laundry/utility room. She sat at the kitchen table with several pieces of paper strewn around in front of her. He could hear the tears in her voice.
“I’ll be right there, baby. I’m going to wash my hands.” He turned on the water in the utility sink and cornered Brice before he could walk in. “She’s upset. Let her be for a few minutes.”
“I’ll just stick the milk in the cellar then come back up and wash my hands,” he whispered back.
He disappeared down the stairs leading to the cellar as Garrett walked into the kitchen. He could see her bent over the table, but she wasn’t doing anything. He wanted to go to her but figured she needed a few seconds to calm down. No doubt she’d been crying all the time they were outside.
“You might as well come on over and have a seat. I’m not going to calm down anytime soon,” she finally groused.
Garrett walked up behind her and bent over and kissed the top of her head, then wrapped his arms around her shoulders and hugged her. She leaned back into his arms. It felt good to know she felt safe with him. A few seconds later, Brice walked in and looked at them. He lifted an eyebrow as if to ask if it was okay to come in. Garrett just nodded.
“We got everything done, so we’re ready to call it a night whenever you are, Ronnie.” Brice took a seat across from her.
Garrett leaned over and tilted her chin upward so he could kiss her. He gave her a gentle, loving kiss. No tongue, all lips, and plenty of emotion. Then he looked at the papers scattered around the table and blinked.
They looked like original bills of sale. Yet they were more than that. They were works of art. She’d written the sale up, and then decorated around it as if it were a certificate or something. They looked so real he had a hard time believing they weren’t.
“My God!” Brice said, staring at the papers as well. “They’re perfect, but, baby, we only need one.”
“I couldn’t get it right. If I was going to sell myself, I wanted it to be perfect, and I can’t get it right.”
Garrett walked around to the other side of the table and sat down, but he took hold of her hand. He took the pen out of her hand and sat it down.
“Ronnie, they’re all works of art. Let me show you what I’m going to do. I’m going to put one of these in our files we have up in the bedroom and the other one, I’m going to fold it up and put it in my billfold so I’ll always have you with me.”