Authors: Cassandra Cole
When King Kit Bataran returned to the castle, I felt a wave of relief wash over my entire being. I didn’t care to know what had happened in the forest. All that mattered in this exact moment was that my husband, the king, was home safe. He reached over and placed his strong hand against my cheek, pulling me in for a kiss. When he let go he said, “I promise to love you.”
The baby cooed in the corner awaking in his father’s presence. Kit smiled over to me before gently picking him up. “Say hello to Erroll.” I told him.
“My son. Prince Erroll Bataran.” He pulled me closer with baby Erroll in his arms and I breathed them in. These were the two men in my life that I would do anything to protect. For them my heart raised its guard, to protect the radiating love inside of me.
THE END
RODEO RIDER
Stepping off the small plane that dropped her in the middle of nowhere, all Sasha Johnson wanted to do was buy a ticket back to her now empty flat in New York City. Either that, or take a cab to Houston. Anything was better than her small destination of Benham, Texas. The airstrip she’d landed on was so heavy with the smell of hot, fresh air and whatever came from surrounding farms, that Sasha was a little sick to her stomach.
“Hey, your car is over there.” The unattractive southern twang that was specific to this particular state made Sasha frown as she looked in the direction the older, overweight pilot was pointing. All of the dirt and dust was going to ruin her car, she already knew. Walking over to shove her suitcases into the trunk of the white hybrid four door, she could feel her frown slowly turn into a scowl.
It was too hot. There was too much dust. The wind was too high. Quietly compiling a list of things that were wrong with her constricting home town, Sasha pulled her keys from her pocket, and clicked the unlock button.
Her life had been put on hold, and she did not enjoy returning to a town that treated her like she was an outsider. Sasha had to quit her job working in the fashion industry. She’d had to pack up and move to a place she never wanted to see again.
A disaster of epic proportions, as her mother would say.
Thinking about it made Sasha sigh heavily as she sat in the driver’s seat, though. It was worth the pain of coming home to take care of her sick mother. Her mother had developed Hodgkin’s Lymphoma, and since she was nearly 70, with a dead husband and a daughter that knew her way around the world, she wasn’t trying to fight it. Sasha’s mother had accepted that she was going to die, but needed help. She couldn’t cook, and had trouble walking.
Sasha had gone from an up and coming maelstrom in the fashion world to a nurse in one phone call. But it was worth the sacrifice to Sasha.
She didn’t blame her mother for forcing her to come back. Sasha had been wanting a break from city life, even if this wasn’t what she wanted.
Nibbling her thick bottom lip, Sasha pulled her midnight black hair over her shoulder, and stuck the key in the ignition. It would only take half an hour to drive to her childhood home, and she didn’t want to be here longer than necessary.
Now, Sasha loved her mother, but she also loved her life. The city, and everything that came with it, she’d fallen madly in love with the moment she saw it in a magazine when she was nine years old. It was also a relief to live in a multicultural place, where people did not make judgements about her based on her mulatto skin. Texas could be rough in that regard.
Sasha’s family had a horse farm that had been around since the days when Texas was practically its own country. As she cruised through the small, single road town that she’d used to call home, distant memories came flooding back to her. It wasn’t all bad she supposed, and her and her mom had made a few great memories in this town.
It suddenly struck her that the horse farm would die right along with her mother. While Sasha was all for letting it dwindle into history, she knew her mother wouldn’t let that happen while she was alive.
The old farmhouse that she grew up in, and had snuck out of countless times, looked exactly the same as it always had. Sasha had been gone for nearly 10 years, though. The day she turned 16 years old she left and didn’t come back. Since then, life had been hard, but good. It was her own life, and not dictated by the small town she’d grown to despise.
After several minutes just idling in her cooling car, Sasha pushed open the door and all of the cold air from her air conditioner vanished, replaced with a hot, dry feeling that gyrated her skin. She just ignored how uncomfortable she was, though, and pulled up her jeans a little. The stress of moving had caused her to lose a few pounds, but it was hardly noticeable and she still managed to boast impressive curves and a sizeable bust that strained against her bra and camisole.
“Mom, I’m here.” Calling quietly through the house, Sasha set the suitcase that held the bulk of her clothes on the floor in the kitchen and walked straight for the den. She still knew the house like the back of her hand, and nothing had changed aside from the dust collecting on objects that weren’t used every day.
Sasha’s mother had once shiny hair, but it had withered away into a coarse grey color that came with sickness and age. Catching sight of the older woman sitting in her rocking chair, Sasha took a moment to examine her mom from the archway. She looked sick- the kind of sick a person looked when they were completely at peace with what was happening to them. Her frail body was covered in a knit blanket, and she stared out the window with sharp hazel eyes that her daughter had inherited.
“Mom…” Not wanting to startle her, Sasha spoke lowly and she heard her mother hum in response, although she didn’t look away from the window. When Sasha was close, she peered out of the murky glass to watch the horses graze beyond the paddock fence.
“They’re so beautiful, don’t you think Sasha? I wonder if you still remember how to ride horses.”
Sighing softly, Sasha didn’t have the heart to tell her mother she had not ridden a horse since she left the farm. Her mother was fading fast if she thought she did. She’d never been a country girl.
“Yeah, Mom, they’re beautiful.”
~
Two weeks later Sasha was in her father’s office but the last thing she wanted to do was reminisce. The farm was going to fail completely if she couldn’t start making payments. What’s worse, she couldn’t sell the horses- her mother had expressly forbid it. This was stress she didn’t need.
A knock on the door, though, disrupted her horrible train of thought, and Sasha glanced up only to do a double take. The man that stood in the doorway with a beige cowboy hat shielding his eyes and no shirt was absolutely gorgeous. He had a strong, chiseled jaw line and large muscles that showed years of hard work. If it weren’t for the cocky smirk on his face her jaw would’ve hit the floor.
Why weren’t there guys like him in New York?
“Uh, can I help you?” Supremely glad that she didn’t stutter, Sasha put down the reports she’d been going through and turned in the old, dusty chair to face him fully.
“Yeah, I’m here to work. Read in the paper Mrs. Johnson needed help.” The southern drawl Sasha had never been attracted to came out gruff. Sasha, though, was pleased someone finally responded to her low paying job advertisement in the paper to garner some help on the farm.
“So, do you have experience?” This was the problem with Sasha’s predicament. She didn’t know the first thing about farms despite having lived on one for 16 years. The man at the doorway, though, arched a brown eyebrow and his smirk widened.
“Miss I am very experienced,” he chimed, looking her up and down.
“I have worked on the McMullen’s farm, and took care of the horses, all that stuff.”
Dawning came up on Sasha and she nodded- this man was a real farmhand. Just what she needed to help her with all of the stuff she couldn’t understand, even if he was cocky.
“Right.” Muttering quietly, Sasha rested her elbow on the desk and her chin in her hand. She was supposed to watch her mother die in peace, not take care of a farm and everything that came with it.
“So, what do you need help with?” The question made Sasha groan. What didn’t she need help with- that was a better question.
“I don’t know- everything? My mom didn’t tell me the farm was this bad. She’ll lose it before she dies at this rate.” Sasha was under the impression that the bank would not force her mother out of her home when she was so close to dying, though. They would let her die in peace and when she was buried they would confiscate the farm and she would go back to New York City like she’d planned.
“Okay… well, my name is Wyatt.” Glancing up at Wyatt as he sauntered past the doorframe, Sasha smiled small but it didn’t last.
“Nice to meet you. You should know I can’t afford to pay you very well.”
At the information Wyatt snatched the paper she’d been reading to lean on the edge of the desk with a low grunt. He didn’t take his eyes off her, but Sasha busied herself another paper to avoid looking at him.
“I ain’t doin’ this for money. Your old Ma is dying. Anyone should do the same.” Surprised, Sasha looked up to find Wyatt starting down at her with a serious gaze and a slight frown on his handsome face. It was kind of nice, not having to worry about forking over so much cash when she could barely pay the bills. “But I do need a place to stay.”
“O- okay then. That I can do.” If there was one thing this old farm had, it was an abundance of space. It spanned 60 acres, held over 30 horses, and the main farmhouse had 7 bedrooms. It was designed to be a place people lived and loved and learned- not the decrepit shell it had become.
“Gotta stable my Marie, too.” Marie, Sasha guessed, was Wyatt’s horse. He seemed like a real country cowboy; he probably owned a truck but rode his horse everywhere.
Nodding absently, though, she glanced out the window to peer down at the horses that grazed in a field a few paddocks from the house.
“No problem.”
Sasha showed Wyatt to an empty, dusty room and left him there. It was almost dinner time, and she had to figure out something to make that her mother could eat. In the end, she decided on grilled cheese and tomato soup before pulling out a pan from the cupboard.
“Hey darlin’. Ever hear of kissing the cook?” Wyatt’s loud question so early in the day made Sasha wince but it quickly turned into a glare as she whirled around to face the cowboy across the kitchen. He was shirtless, but she ignored him as best she could. He had tanned skin everywhere, and muscles that showed off how hard he worked.
“Don’t call me that, and we aren’t kissing. You just got here yesterday so don’t press your luck, mister.”
Sasha glared at the man before turning back around to make sure she didn’t burn her eggs. Much to her apprehension, though, Wyatt wasn’t done teasing her.
“No need to get so feisty, Sasha. Besides, I’m not gunna be in town in a few minutes. Gotta go to a rodeo.” Quietly rolling her eyes, Sasha didn’t have a response for that. She’d never understood the gravity that pulled people towards riding bulls. She didn’t like them and they usually didn’t like her.
“Save me some dinner, would ‘ya darlin’?” Chuckling on his way out the front door, Wyatt didn’t notice the scathing look Sasha sent him. He was going to eat her out of house and home. What’s worse, she was obliged to cook for him since he was working for half price.
“Mom, I made lunch.” Talking lowly, Sasha set the tray on the old coffee table that she used to draw on and knelt in front of her mother.
“Do you think you can eat by yourself?” It was unfortunate that Sasha’s mother had a hard time eating solid food and that her hands shook too much to hold a spoon. When she slowly shook her head with a small, sad smile, Sasha smiled back. She didn’t mind feeding her mother, but that wasn’t the problem. Her mother couldn’t take care of herself anymore, and that in itself was sad.
“Where’s that nice young man you have in the house, Sasha?” Sasha’s mother had no idea that Wyatt was a farmhand, and both of them had played into her ideas. She’d told her mother that Wyatt was her friend, and he was more than happy lead on that he was going to ask her out. Sasha only hoped that he was joking, with his cocky attitude and cowboy sexiness, but she knew he wasn’t. He lived in her mother’s house, after all.
“He’s out with the horses, Mom. He’s talking to the vet.” Never had Sasha hated lying to her mother more, but telling her she was selling off half the herd to pay for the farm was too much to handle. It was a sad but true reality and since her mother wasn’t exactly sane she didn’t want to tell her.
“He’s such a nice man, don’t you think?” Nodding with a slight smile, Sasha supposed that Wyatt could be her type if he weren’t so full of himself. He liked to act more than a little flirty, and while she liked the attention there was no way she’d take him seriously right now.
“Yeah, Mom, he’s nice.” At least, Sasha thought wearily, Wyatt was nice enough to contact his friend in California and get her top dollar or more for the horses she was selling. He called it a favor, but she called it the next year’s rent and utilities. Once her mother passed away she would sell the farm, and high tail her backside back to New York with whatever was left.
“Sasha! I got some news from the vet!” Wyatt emerged just as he yelled through the house, but he didn’t look apologetic as Sasha shot him a frown. In fact, he was smiling from one ear to the other, and she had to blink. He was truly handsome when he smiled, and he did it so often.
“He said the herd is in exceptional health and he won’t need to come back until May next year.” They’d developed a sort of code, and Sasha’s eyes widened considerably. Wyatt had told her that the best horses to sell were the mares with good breeding, so that was what she did. What she didn’t expect was for the champion fillies to bring in so much compared to Wyatt’s estimate. His friend must want them very badly, and the word ‘exceptional’ meant he was paying the higher end of the number.
“That’s good! See, Sasha, I told you they were fine. Everything is fine.” Yeah, Sasha thought sadly, everything was fine until her mother died. Her shoulders slumped a bit before she smiled at her mom, taking the tray to the kitchen.
Wyatt noticed the change and frowned slightly. He didn’t like that Sasha was always thinking her mother’s death wouldn’t make a difference- that she would go back to New York and everything would go back to normal. It wasn’t healthy, and he followed quietly with one last look at the frail woman. She was dying faster than the doctor anticipated.