The Devil's Cowboy (11 page)

“Speaking of livin’ your life, you really need to tell me about yourself. I’ve never known anyone so well, yet had no idea about their day-to-day existence. You’ve seen a bit of my life—the ranch, the kids. What’s important to you? Who do you spend time with—other than Melanie and her family?”

“I’m kind of a loner, Rafe. My parents are dead. No brothers or sisters. No husband, past or present. I have an aunt in Pennsylvania, my mother’s sister. She’s never been married either. I see her once a year or so, usually on Thanksgiving.”

Ellen sighed, picturing her tiny apartment, her solitary nights at the computer. “I have a cat. His name is JayJay. He’s been with me for half my life. He’s getting old now, but it’s nice to come home and find someone waiting for me. Someone happy to see me… as long as I come bearing a can of tuna.”

Rafe laughed softly. “Yeah, I know what you mean. We have a couple of cats on the ranch. They’re a lot more independent than dogs are. Make you feel real special when they decide to pay some attention to you.”

“I don’t spend all my time alone,” Ellen went on. “I have a whole list of clients I see on a regular basis. Some once every week or two, especially if they’re going through a rough time, some only occasionally. Then there’s the psychic circle I belong to that meets twice a month. It’s made up of people like you and me—a place for us to talk openly about our experiences, to feel safe among others who understand what it’s like to live in two worlds at once. Those people have become like family to me. We celebrate each other’s triumphs, support each other when times are tough.”

“It’s good to have folks who understand. People with our gift—our lives are kinda different. It can get real lonely if you have no one to talk to about it.”

“That’s probably why I started writing.”

“You’re a writer?”

Ellen nodded shyly.

“What do you write? Books, magazine articles?”

“I write romance novels. I’ve got ten published already, all e-books,” she announced with a touch of pride.

Rafe looked impressed. “I had no idea you were a famous author. I’d like to read your books. Where can I buy them?”

“Don’t be silly. I’m far from being a famous author. And you don’t have to buy them. If I ever decide to let you read one, I’ll give it to you. Besides, I’m not sure I want you reading my stories.”

“Why not? Are you a good writer?”

“I like to think so. But my stories aren’t just romances. Frankly, they’re erotic novels, with some pretty graphic sex scenes. I’d be embarrassed to have you read one of them.”

“Sex scenes?” Rafe’s smile was mischievous as his hands roamed suggestively over her body. “I like sex scenes. Seems to me we had ourselves some pretty good sex scenes last night. Maybe I could help you with the plot of your next one.” His fingers dipped between her legs.

“I’m sure you could provide lots of input,” she giggled. “In fact, you already have. Last night was incredible. I’ve never had such an intense experience.”

He bent his head to nuzzle her neck, sending shivers down her spine. “Last night was just the beginning, darlin’.”

She sighed as she pushed his hand away. “We have a job to do, Rafe. Melanie asked me to come here and help her. And from what I’ve seen and experienced so far, it’s not going to be easy. I think we should put our sexual relationship on hold for now and talk about how we’re going to rid her house of the dark shadows that inhabit it.”

Rafe groaned. “Much as I hate to admit it, I think you’re right. I can’t concentrate on anythin’ else when your skin is touching mine.” He moved to get out of bed, deliberately sliding his naked body over hers, making sure she felt the hard-on between his legs as he did so. “If you’re sure…”

“I’m sure,” she announced firmly.

“Well, then. Here’s what I think we oughtta do.” In a matter-of-fact tone, Rafe continued as he slid out of bed, pulled on his jeans, and rummaged in his bag for a clean shirt. “The spirits in Melanie’s house seem to be most active at night, so why don’t we plan to head over there at dusk? In the meantime, I’d like to show you around the ranch. You didn’t get to see anything last night except Jeb’s kitchen. Spending the day together will help us get to know each other better and make us stronger when we face the dark one tonight.”

“I’d like that,” she replied. The idea of having Rafe to herself for a whole day was intoxicating and she couldn’t keep the enthusiasm from bubbling out in her voice.

He looked deep into her eyes before going on. His voice hardened, the commanding tone that sent a stab of heat directly to her pussy. “Remember one thing,” he announced. “I expect you to do what I say without questions or arguments while we’re on the ranch. Dallas is just another big city but the real Texas can be a dangerous place for a greenhorn.”

“I will,” she agreed.

“Just so you know—I’m still the one in control. I call the shots. If you ignore a direct order from me today or any time in the future, you’ll get another sound spankin’—on your naked butt. And if I say it’s time for you to be punished, you’ll bare your bottom for me willingly, right then and there. Even if it’s in front of others.”

She whipped her head around to stare at him in horror. “What?”

“Oh, I’m not going to spank you in a store or a restaurant. But if we’re at the ranch and you disobey me, you’re gettin’ your ass tanned, whether we’re in the kitchen or the corral. And I don’t care who might see or hear us.”

Ellen shivered with a mixture of fear and arousal. The thought of being spanked by Rafe in front of someone else brought another of her naughty secret desires out in the open. She’d watched an old Western once where John Wayne paddled his wife in full view of the townspeople. She’d fantasized about being pulled over the lap of a stern cowboy, kicking and shrieking in indignation, ever since. But unlike the scene in the old 1960s classic, the spanking she envisioned was delivered on her bare bottom. It sounded like Rafe would carry out that part of her fantasy with no hesitation.

Ellen had never spent a day on a working ranch but she was sure that jeans were the appropriate attire. She dug in her suitcase and pulled out a pair along with a soft cotton shirt that buttoned down the front. Rafe watched her dress, his eyes hungry.

“I hate to see you cover up that beautiful body, darlin’. Maybe we’ll have to do a little skinny dippin’ in the creek later on.”

“That sounds like fun. I’ve never been skinny dipping,” Ellen confessed.

“Well, you’re havin’ all kinds of firsts, aren’t you?” His tone was casual but his lingering caress of her bottom through the tight jeans made her blush with shame at the memory of how she’d writhed against him as his finger explored the tight opening of her virgin ass.

He grinned and Ellen realized he’d read her mind again. “Yes, ma’am, that’s exactly what I was meanin.’ But if we both don’t quit reminiscin’ about last night, we’ll never get out of here.” He stretched out a hand and this time Ellen took it willingly.

“Come on, darlin.’ If we hurry, we might get Jeb to rustle up some grub for us before he heads out to the stable. I don’t know about you, but I could do with a stack of hotcakes and a big mug of cowboy coffee.”

“What’s cowboy coffee?” she asked as Rafe started the engine of the truck.

“You’ll find out soon enough,” he replied with a wink.

She closed her eyes and turned her face to the morning sun as the pickup left the city behind and sped along the highway. The drive to the ranch seemed shorter this time. Or maybe it was just that she was aware of every fleeting moment, determined to enjoy this day to the fullest. She was spending it with her lover. This smart, funny, incredibly sexy man who’d suddenly appeared in her life. A man who could see into her mind and seemed determined to make every wicked fantasy she’d ever imagined come true. Ellen was happier at that moment than she’d ever been. She vowed to put aside all her worries and fears about what the future might hold for them and simply let the day unfold.

Later, as she savored a cup of the smoothest coffee she’d ever tasted, she listened as Jeb explained the brewing process.

“First ya fill yer pot with cold water and bring ‘er to a full boil,” he said, pouring a cup for Rafe as he spoke. The battered gray metal coffeepot Jeb held looked as though it had spent countless hours over an open fire. “Then, ya turn off the heat and dump in yer grounds—straight inta the water. Ya stir it up a little, let the grounds settle a bit, then crack an egg or maybe two, dependin’ on the size of yer pot, and drop the whole thing inta the water, shell and all. Let it sit fer a spell and then pour yerself the best cup of coffee ya’ve ever had. Them eggshells absorb all the acid in the coffee and when the egg settles on the bottom, it draws down the grounds, makin’ it easier ta pour. Course, if yer out on the range and you ain’t got any eggs handy, you kin just filter it through one a’ yer socks, like we did in the old days.” His eyes twinkled and Ellen realized he was enjoying having a greenhorn around who would buy into his yarns.

He set a huge stack of pancakes on the table and Ellen suddenly realized she was starving. She dug in, sighing as she dipped one of the hotcakes into a river of maple syrup, then chewed and swallowed. He laid a platter of bacon and sausage beside the pancakes.

“Jeb, I think I’m in love,” she said. “Can I smuggle you into my suitcase and bring you home to make me breakfast every morning?”

“Ah would shorely love ta feed y’all every day,” he said, smiling. “Ah enjoy cookin’ fer someone who appreciates food. Yer not like some a’ them skinny women nowadays who’re afraid to put a decent meal in their stomachs. But ah’d miss the folks here and the open range. Ah couldn’t live in a city.”

“It’s not really a city—more like a bigger version of a small town, with quirky little neighborhoods here and there. Besides, you’d love the landscape around Asheville,” she replied. “Once you get outside of town, everything is green. Beautiful shades of green as far as the eye can see, getting darker as the land rises up into hills and then even higher, into mountains—all of it blending into a smoky purplish blue miles away where it meets the horizon. It’s that unusual color that gave them their name—the Blue Ridge Mountains. And there’s lots of wildlife. Herds of deer and wild turkeys everywhere. Once in a while, you’ll even see an eagle soaring overhead.”

Rafe watched her as he sipped his coffee. “You really love those mountains. Is that where you grew up?”

“No, I lived in a suburb in Illinois, near Chicago. The only wildlife I ever saw was the occasional bunny snacking on a patch of clover in the lawn outside my bedroom window.”

“Well, you’ll no doubt see some wildlife today,” he announced. “Ready for the tour?”

Ellen speared the last bit of sausage on her plate and nodded her head. “Now I am.”

Rafe headed for the door with Ellen trailing after him.

“Don’t fergit this,” Jeb called out, waving a bag. “After seein’ how Miss Ellen here enjoys her food, ah packed y’all some lunch. You kin work up quite an appetite out on the open range,” he added.

“Thank you, Jeb. If your lunch is anything like your breakfast and that chili and cornbread dinner last night, I’m sure I’m going to love it.” Ellen took the bag and gave Jeb an impulsive kiss on the cheek.

The old man grinned and leaned in to whisper something in her ear.

“What was that all about?” Rafe asked as they headed for the barn.

“Jeb said he was glad you’d brought me to the ranch. He told me to see to it that you have a good time today because you work too hard.”

Rafe turned and gave her that wicked smile that sent her heart racing. “Oh, I intend to have a very good time today—and I guarantee you will too.”

Chapter Eight

They headed for the barn, where Rafe introduced her to Sariel, his coal black stallion.

“That’s an unusual name,” she remarked as she stroked the horse’s head. Sariel whinnied softly and nuzzled into her hand.

“All my horses are named after angels. Didn’t necessarily do it on purpose—just seemed to turn out that way. Guess it kinda fits, seein’ the ranch is called Angel Fire. Sariel here—he’s named for one of the mighty archangels, the angel in charge of the spirits of the children of mankind. This horse has a special way with the battered bodies and souls of the little ones who come here. He looks strong and mean but he’s gentle as can be with those kids. Oh, he’ll toss a grown man off his back and then stare at him down on the ground with an evil glint in his eye, but let a little girl come near him and he’s sweet as a kitten.”

Ellen melted as the horse gently butted her with his head. “I swear he’s communicating with me,” she said in wonder. “Not with words, but I’m getting feelings and images in my mind—images of running free across miles and miles of open land, filled with a kind of joy.”

Rafe nodded. “He likes you. And yes, he’s communicating with you, tellin’ you what it’s like to ride the range. He talks to me too in his own way—done it for years. Plenty of people who aren’t psychic say they feel a special bond with some horses. Animals are capable of deep emotions—love and caring, happiness and sorrow. I wish more people believed that. Maybe they’d treat ‘em better.”

Ellen watched as an old hound made his way painfully to his feet from a corner of the barn and came over to rest his head against Rafe’s leg. He bent and petted the creature, speaking softly and rubbing between his ears.

“This old feller got left behind when some folks down the road lost their ranch a few years back. They had to move to a shelter in the city and couldn’t take him along. I didn’t know about it until he made his way here, half-starved and grievin’ the loss of the only family he’d ever known. He’d wandered away before they could find a home for him, been attacked by some wild animal and was in pretty bad shape. We nursed him back to health as best we could, but he’s gettin’ old. He’s great with the kids, too, just like Sariel.”

Ellen’s eyes filled with tears as she remembered a saying her father had always quoted. “There is nothing as strong as pure gentleness and nothing as gentle as pure strength,” she repeated under her breath.