Chasing Clovers (7 page)

Four saddle
s sat on top of what appeared to be a fence, but with wooden planks angled out on either side. Weathered wool blankets were draped at the end of the make-shift fence. Long ropes, short ropes and all sorts of tools that Livy had never seen before hung on the far wall. She made her way farther to the back where a few horses lounged inside rickety wooden stalls. The back door stood open, and she went through.

Behind the barn there were more cattle, separated, and relaxing inside corrals. A group of cowboys stood around one of them, and Livy thought she saw John among them. Curiosity g
etting the better of her, she strolled toward them.

The men tipped their hats as she drew nearer and moved to make room for her at the fence.

"
Who you bettin' on Ma'am?" one of the cowboys asked.

She was unsure which one ha
d spoken to her. They all resembled each other in their dirty cowboy hats and denims. And compared to her, they were huge.

"
Pardon me?"

She wrapped her arms around her middle,
placing a barrier between her and the men that stood so close by.

"
Are you gonna bet on the boss, or Rusty?" He pointed to a man beside John at the other end of the corral. "You see, I'm takin' old Rusty 'cause he rides them bulls all the time."

"
You're crazy, Gill," another cowboy yelled from somewhere Livy couldn't see. "The boss'll win."

"
You wanna make a friendly wager on that?" Gill shouted back.

"
Sure do."

T
he men started to yell out bids, betting everything from horses to money. Livy stood in the middle of them. Feeling uneasy, she backed away from the crowd. Then she spotted the bull. He was by far the largest animal she had ever seen.

Her stomach dropped as the black beast snorted and pawed at the ground. His shiny black coat glistened in the sun, and his horns were curved and pointed. The sharp spikes were meant to
do damage. Her eyes sought out John, who stood outside the other end of the corral. Was he insane? That bull was sure to kill him.

She stood frozen as the one they called Rusty made his way up onto the fence. The men grew quiet as he climbed over the fence, and leapt onto the beast
's back. Rusty's hands grabbed onto the rope around the bulls neck, and he held on while the animal bucked and kicked at the air.

The longer he stayed on, the
louder the shouts got. He flew off and landed hard on the ground. Rusty got up quickly, ran to the fence and vaulted over it before the bull got to the fence.

"
Five seconds." Someone yelled.

"
Not bad," Livy heard John say. "But you better dig out your five dollars Rusty, cause when I'm done you'll be payin' me."

"
Don't be so sure, Boss." Out of breath, Rusty sat on the ground.

She watched John as he stepped up onto the fence and waited for the bull to come near. It all happened so fast. He jumped onto the bull, and it took off running. Soon it bucked and spun, but he stayed put.

The bull rammed headlong into the fence, came away from it and rammed into it again. The cowboys jumped back, as if th
e animal might come through. She watched horrified as he was tossed around like a rag doll. The hands shouted and whistled even louder than before. Her stomach turned, but she couldn't look away. John held on while the bull tried everything to get him off his back.

When she was sure he
'd never let go, he jumped off, landed on his feet, and ran to the fence. The bull chased after him, and stopped just before John's legs cleared the top rail.

The cowboys ran to their boss, e
ach one patting him on the back.

"
Pay up, Rusty." John took his hat and slapped some of the dust off his pants.

With a scowl on his face, Rusty dug into his pocket and handed John his five dollars.

"
Your lady came to watch, Boss." Gill snickered, as he passed by John. "You gave her quite the show."

Livy
observed John from a few feet away while he spoke to the men that had gathered around. "Fun's over boys, back to work," he ordered. John pushed his hat low on his head as he sauntered toward her. He stopped a few inches away from her body.

He was way too close for her liking, and she stepped back. He took a step forward.
"Did you like the show?" he asked her, a cocky smirk on his face.

The man infuriated her. Almost getting killed for sport! He was also too close to her person. Back rigid, her arms tensed ready to defend.

"
If that's what you call it," she answered, before turning to leave. He grabbed her hand and pulled her close to him. She could feel his breath fan her face, and even though he didn't frighten her like most men had, there was something about him that made her uneasy. He was tall, wide, and all muscle. She pushed on his chest to move him from her, but he didn't budge. He smelled of leather, animal, and the musty scent that was all him.

"
You didn't like the bull ridin'?" He was still smiling.

"
No. I think you're crazy to almost get yourself killed over a few dollars."

"
Rusty bet me, and John Taylor never backs down from a bet."

Of all the stupid things she
'd heard in her life, this had to be one of the stupidest. "Well, a lot of good your bet would've been had you broken your neck."

He shook his head. "Wouldn't have happened."

His conceit grated on her nerves. Who did he think he was? "You're not invincible, Mr. Taylor." She tried again, to turn away from him, to leave. But his grip tightened on her arm. Livy didn't like where this was going. After what happened in Great Falls, she tried hard to never be in a situation where she was alone with any man. She scanned the field for any of the cowhands.

"
How do you know?"

"
Because, Mr. Taylor you are not God," she hissed.

The mischievous gleam in his eyes gone, he let her go. "No, Ma'am, I am not."

She crossed her arms.

John's lips came closer, almost touching hers.

S
he shivered.

"
Maybe you should get a shawl, Miss Green." He spun away from her.

"
Whatever for? It's as hot as Hades out here."

"
Because," he called over his shoulder, "You have goose bumps on your arms."

Chuckling, he disappeared behind one of the buildings.

"
Damn that man," she muttered under her breath. A profound need to escape from the imbecile who was soon to be her husband she went back to the house.

CHAPTER FIVE

Boyd took a long drag from his cigarette. He'd been watching the bull riding when he saw her come over to the corral. Angel Green. At first he didn't know it was her, but then she turned his way. Her green eyes were unmistakable against the sun's glare. He thought he'd never see her again after their night together a few years ago.

She
'd been feisty, fighting him the whole way, until he gave her a few slaps to let her know who was in charge. The thought of it made him hard. He liked it when his women fought. Their cries begging him to stop drove him crazy, and Angel had done just that.

He often thought about all the women he
'd had the privilege of taking, their screams lulled him to sleep at night. There had been many. His first offence starting at the age of fifteen, and since then the number had grown rapidly over the years. He liked the power he held over them. He loved to see the shame in their eyes when he'd finished. He had never been caught. He'd leave the scene well before his victim told her husband or father. He was wanted, he knew, but that didn't stop him. It made his game all the more amusing.

He hated all women
. His mother included. Good for nothin' whore. He scowled. His father found his mother in bed with another man and killed them both, then turned the gun on himself. He was eight years old at the time. He blamed his mother for his father's death. He was sent to live in an orphanage, where his mind grew sick, and filled with uncontrolled lustful thoughts. He fantasized about forcing all women to have sex with him.

He
felt the scar on his cheek. His finger traced the length of it, starting under his left eye all the way down to the corner of his mouth. He smiled. It was his gift from Angel. He pulled on his pant leg to loosen his tight jeans from the bulge that had grown there.

He went
back to find her a year later, the memory of their night together still fresh in his mind, but she had disappeared. Talk was she'd had his baby. But he didn't see any child with her now, and the boss never mentioned she had one when he'd told them of his plan to take a wife. Maybe she gave it away. He didn't think she'd keep it anyway. He shrugged. He didn't care. The reason he'd come back was for another piece of her. He didn't know why she'd left, he'd paid her good.

He snickered
.

I
t wasn't like he'd raped her.

He
traveled over the years working as a cowhand, but things always ended with him escaping in the night. He had a way of making people uneasy. He smiled. He couldn't control the cravings for unwilling women. Neither went over well with most of his bosses.

If Angel saw him, she
'd run and tell Mr. Taylor what he'd done and the huge man would fire him for sure. Not that he worried about it. John Taylor could go to hell. He stared hard at Angel. Oh how he'd love to take her one more time. His hand instantly sought out his groin and he rubbed his palm over the hard swell beneath his jeans.

T
he shock on her face when she saw him, made his middle pulse. He vibrated. He knew he couldn't have her yet. He'd have to wait, and bide his time. He felt the whiskers on his jaw, and his mouth watered. He stared hard at Angel as an idea came to mind. Making sure no one was looking he pulled his hat low on his forehead, tossed his cigarette, and crept away.

CHAPTER SIX

John was covered in mud from the collar of his shirt to the soles of his boots. He spent the last two hours in the south-west corner of the field dragging two of his calves out of a mud hole from last week's rain. His backside ached like hell from riding that bull earlier. "Damn dumb animals." A note of affection softened his curse.

"
Looks like you've had a good day so far," Clive called from behind him.

"
Yeah, real good." He tried to wipe some of the mud from his shirt. "I need you to go up to that mud hole and put some wire around it to keep the cows out."

"
Sure I'll do it tomorrow. Maybe I should get a bucket and dump it on you. You'd have better luck gettin' clean."

"
I best get down to the stream while I can. Livy wouldn't like it if I came into the house lookin' like this." He held his arms out, as he surveyed his mud-covered pants and shirt.

"
You still thinkin' on gettin' hitched, hey?" Clive asked, as he wiped down his saddle with an oiled cloth.

"
Yeah, I am. Kids need a mother and I'm sick to death of the beans and grits you guys eat down here." He didn't think he needed to tell his foreman about the pancakes they'd had this morning.

He
ran his hand through his hair. The mud had dried and it felt like he had all the sand in a Texas desert stuck in it. He shook his head, surprised to see more dirt fall from his head.

"
What's she look like? Some big brawny old gal?"

Livy was anything
but big and brawny. "Not bad. You'll meet her soon enough."

"
Oh, goodie." Clive rubbed his hands together in fake anticipation.

"
Hey, maybe that's what you need, old friend."

Clive raised his eyebrows.

"
A woman to warm your bed and fix your meals."

Clive had no woman, and neve
r mentioned that he needed one.

"
Offer's still good. You can set up house in the west quarter when you find one." He eyed his friend. "But then again, I don't know if you'll find one lookin' like that."

"
Well, I won't have to
order
me one that's for sure."

"
Get back to work."

"
That's what I'm doin', Boss," Clive hollered, as he sauntered out of the barn.

John glanced down at his attire. He was too tired to head to the lake to bathe. His body craved the hot water he'd heat from the stove to soothe his sore muscles. He took one last look at his mud stained denims and headed up to the house.

He could smell pot roast the second he stepped onto the porch. The mouth watering aroma caused his stomach to grumble. After he
dunked his hands into the cold water in the rain barrel and washed his face and neck, he dried them on the towel that had been placed there. He glanced down one more time, and shrugged. Nothing could be done about the rest of his attire.