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              Marionne thought long and hard before she went out to meet a wounded John Brown in the woods.  He told her not to come back for him, to let him be, to think of him as dead for good. 

              But blasted if she ever obeyed a damned a word he said to her.  Women like Marionne listen but they won’t heed, if you understand cowgirl talk. 

              “You look better,” she said, eyeing John in caution while noticing the full moon rising. 

              “I told you to leave, woman,” he said with a scowl.

              “I know.  And I ought to, John.  As much bullshit as you put me through.  But you know I can’t do that.”

              “Marionne, you fool.  It’s not just about us.  It’s about my turning.  I can’t promise that I won’t hurt you.  I can’t even promise that I won’t kill you.”

              “John, I think that you have more control over yourself than you care to admit.”

              “You don’t understand,” he said in a raspy voice, already feeling the turn starting.  I can control myself for a while, towards the end of the night.  But when I first turn I can’t control anything.  I lose my memory, my human thoughts.  Everything!”

              He dripped a tear as she shook, feeling the convulsions kick in.  “I can’t hurt you.  Not you.”

              “Well then, good for you that I’m a girl who appreciates a dangerous man.”

              “This isn’t a joke.”

              “You’re a joke, JB!  How long have I known you?  Years on end and never once have you hurt me by punching me, biting me or ripping my guts out.  But you sure do a good job with the emotional abuse.  Lying, faking your own death.  That’s the John I’m pissed at.  The bear doesn’t scare me at all.”

              He roared in anger, his body starting to squirm and his skin growing and palpitating. 

“What I do know about you, JB, is that you will never hurt me where it counts.  You’re never going to lay a finger on me, man or beast.  Because that’s not the type of man you are.  You torture yourself plenty.  But you respect other people.  And that’s why I love you.  Dumb as I am, I still love you.  And there’s no shaking that.”

Now losing his human features, the creature began morphing and stretching its way into an abominable mess.  His face lengthened out into a full snout and his eyes went black as coal.  His hair grew out and he increased in size, covered in fuzz and with a primal voice taking over.

“Even if your instincts are turned inside out, I know that you will always be my mate.  Our spirits and souls are connected.  And you’re my protector now and forever.  Ain’t that right, big bad bear?”

She took a nervous gulp as the bear rolled over on his paws gaining footing and eyeing her in confusion. 

The bear suddenly developed a defensive look on its face and growled, showing its teeth and moving forward in hostility.

Marionne slowly put her hand out to its snout, ignoring its growls and snaps of its jaw.  She controlled her breathing, pushing her nervousness to the side and letting love guide her.  “You know me.  You know who I am John Brown.” 

The bear growled in warning, even when she pet the top of its head, swooping down its fur, figuring it’s just like a huge, giant deadly dog.  Show no fear, show no hesitance.  Let love take the moment completely.

The bear growled and tried to move its head away from her but she remained fixed, letting the creature know she wasn’t going away, nor was she going to cower.  The bear eased off and eventually relaxed, falling down into a lying position and letting her hands caress its fur. 

“Shhh…good boy.  Or shall I say, good man, good man?”  She smiled and pet the beast again, long strokes of compassion, patience and power.  The bear breathed in deeply and learned to trust Marionne beyond words and beyond species communication.  Whatever she was saying, the werebear understood that she was its mate and the obligation to protect her was always there, day and night.

Well, a little town like Comanche sure loves it scandals and though Jaroth eventually left town, the folks never stopped talking about the day a cowboy fought a bear in the middle of town.  Urban legend seemed to grow the less people saw and the more they recollected.  Some locals even claim that they saw John Brown turn and that he was more like a King Kong type of creature than a bear, but that’s just how embellishment goes in small towns. 

And yeah, plenty of folks still think John Brown is alive and well, and probably romancing the mysteriously “disappeared” Marionne, who hasn’t been seen in a while.  Some kids have even started passing ghost stories around saying that John Brown still comes back to Comanche every time a full moon comes on Halloween night.  That he’s still looking around for Marionne, still in relentless pursuit of his mate, the one woman he vowed to love forever—nothing, not even death it seems, will ever make him say “Till death do us part.”

High Stakes & Hard Riding

A Cowboy Rides the Witch

 

Morgana Patrick

Copyright © 2016

All Rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of required fees you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this book. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known, hereinafter invented, without express written permission of Dark Nights Press. For more information contact Dark Nights Press. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

 

DISCLAIMER

Please don’t be stupid and kill yourself. This book is a work of FICTION. Do not try any new sexual practice that you find in this book. It is fiction and not to be confused with reality. Neither the author nor the publisher or its associates assume any responsibility for any loss, injury, death or legal consequences resulting from acting on the contents in this book. Every character in this book is over 18 years of age. The author’s opinions are not to be construed as the opinions of the publisher. The material in this book is for entertainment purposes ONLY.  Enjoy.

*****

Dustin brought the rig to a standstill and leaned over towards the glove compartment, extracting the brown paper envelope from its confines. He righted himself and checked its contents and extracted the required passes, before turning down the window and handing them to the guardsman on duty.

“Rigs park that side, no vehicles or trailers allowed at or between the stable blocks. Power access points are available in the parking area; just go to the main office for connection…” the man started, handing back the passes.

“Know the drill, been here a few times,” Dustin dismissed the man, before placing the envelope back in the glove compartment.

The guard moved to the boom and lifted it, announcing, “You’re clear.”

Dustin put the truck in gear and eased his foot off the clutch allowing the rig to slowly edge forward, giving the horses the needed warning to adjust their stance, and then turned towards the park. 

The sun was just lowering on the horizon when he engaged the air breaks, before killing the engine.

He exited the cab and moved to the back of the rig. Lowering the ramp, he found Gareth, his protégé, already waiting with a wheelbarrow, loaded four bales high. Once the tailgate touched the ground Gareth wheeled the wheelbarrow down and said in passing, “I’ll bed the stalls.”

Dustin stepped into the trailer and heard a familiar wicker. He smiled as he approached the horse. “Yes, Callico, we’re here, finally,” he said as he stroked the sorrel’s nose, before turning to the water buckets that were fastened to the wall. The horse in turn pawed and snorted.

“Gotta get your stalls ready, before we can offload ya.” Dustin said as he picked up the water buckets, and made for the ramp.

He halted and looked over all the vehicles parked there, picking out the ones he knew.  There were several unknown ones, but it was only to be expected.

He was just about to step onto the ramp when a loud and overbearing set of honks filled the air, his entire body froze, for even without looking he knew it was
them
. He fought against the desire to turn and look at the rig, which he knew was the largest and most impressive, Geoffrey would not have it any other way. But it was
her
, and the fact that she was somewhere in it that set his resolve.

Thoughts of Vegas filled his head, the wildness of it all, he’d gotten caught up in the magic of her spell, been blind to her association, had become reckless and had paid the price for it.

The honking against started as the rig came into the car park, notifying all of the sundry that they had arrived. Hawkley snorted loudly and sidestepped as Gareth’s horse whinnied, fearfully. Instantly, his mood turned sour and he fought the desire to simply pack up and return home.

“Goddamned idiots, upset the horses before they’re even offloaded,” he said lowering the water buckets to the ground, and then went back inside to first soothe the horses.  

Several moments later Gareth again entered the rig, “I think we can say they’ve arrived,” Gareth said, nudging his head over his shoulder.

“Yeah well we’d best get done, it’ll be dark soon.”  Dustin gruffly said, and went to pick up the water buckets.

He exchanged greetings with several of the passerby’s and accepted several drink invitations – which he had no real intention of keeping.

“Thank God they’re not on our line,” the man assigned stables next to theirs said as Dustin arrived at the stables.

Dustin looked towards the man, and nodded.

“Henry,” the man said extending his hand, “I’ll keep an eye on yours, you do the same for me when I’m not around.”

Dustin took the man’s hand, “Will do.”

The fairground was still cast in the pale predawn glow as Dustin led Calico around to familiarize him with his surroundings. Dustin preferred the predawn hours, when the grounds were quiet and only those truly committed were about, working their horses before the masses arrived. It also gave him an opportunity to look at the horses being worked, to assess his opponents’ horses.

Much like the young sorrel that was being worked in one of the warm up areas, his rider giving him full rein and allowing him to stretch his neck.  The horse’s paces not yet fully established, with some steps being shorter than the others, its back still stiff and unyielding.

He approached the arena, intent on watching the workout, when he saw
her.

Again an intense, cold, sensation overcame him. He had no need to look her over, he was intimately familiar with her finely toned body. Knew how the muscles rippled when she moved, the way her strawberry blond hair fell back at just that moment, the gasps that escaped her kiss-swollen lips in the heat of the moment, when her muscles clenched around him. The heat of being deep inside her, all the way, and cumming hard, and how she knew exactly what would make it better – for both of them.

He quickly regained control of his thoughts, preventing them from wandering any further. She’d been insatiable, provocative, and just far too good at it, which was how he’d ended up in the mess in the first place. He’d been too caught up in her, in the experience of it, he’d not seen the carefully constructed trap she had led him into. Her and Geoffrey.     

He clenched his fist at the thought of the man, and what they had done. He’d learned a lot that week. He could not allow himself to succumb to her allure again, could not allow her that close again. She may have revealed her secret abilities to him, but it had only further validated her part in it all.

She had a calm seat. Dustin’s focus again centered on her body, watching it as she moved. There were no obvious cues, it was almost as if she simply allowed the horse to decide the next movement. Yet he knew how it worked. It was only with close attention that he could pick up the subtlest of cues she gave the horse; a hip dropped at the right moment, a slight weight shift there as she put the horse through a few simple maneuvers.

His mind returned to that particular evening, where he’d watched her hips move, while riding him, astounded at her willingness to take pleasure in his body. He was well endowed, that he knew, and it never took much to get the girls to cum, but with her it had been different. She enjoyed drawing it out. Almost as much as he’d enjoyed watching her take pleasure in his cock, no matter which way he took her. And that had been the problem in Vegas, his mind had been centered on sex focusing on what next he was going to be doing to her, instead of where it should have been, he could not allow that to happen again, could not allow her that hold over him. Not while she was riding for Geoffrey.

Just then Geoffrey, as if sensing he was thinking about him, turned his way and tipped his hat.

Geoffrey was the equestrian equivalent of a modeling agent; one of those who sought the best talent, alternatively riders with enough financial backing to ensure they had the best horses, and then paraded them around the show circuit, feeding off their dreams. 

Dustin tipped his hat in response, knowing it was best to keep appearances neutral, and then moved on, taking Calico the rest of the way around the arena before retuning to their stalls.

 

Dustin helped Gareth prepare for his class, and as they walked towards the arena, passing Geoffrey and one of his riders, the young man spoke up.

“Whatcha think of the strawberry blond in Anderson’s bunch, rumor has it she’s really good.”

“A competitor is only as good as their horse and their mood on the day.” Dustin flatly replied. 

“I know, but do you think I need to be concerned, she’s in one of my classes.”

“Her, or any of the others, they are all the same, not worth fretting about. You need to go out there and give the best run you can. It’s all you can do.”

The boy nodded and asked as they arrived at the warm up arena, “You never told me why you dislike Geoffrey so much.”

“And who says I dislike him?” Dustin countered, not wanting to discuss it.

“Oh, come on, everyone knows it. Anyone with eyes can see it. I just always thought it had something to do with a woman.”

“A woman?” Dustin questioned in surprise, wandering what gave the boy that idea.

“I don’t know, just thought so, seeing as you never seem to want to mingle with anyone anymore. Everyone mentions it.”

Dustin felt a heavy sensation settle around his heart, it was difficult enough to come to terms with the fact that he had been tricked as badly, but to have everyone talking about it made it so much worse. “It was not a woman, it was a horse, okay.”

“Was she highly bred?”


He
, was a palomino. Calico’s full brother.” Dustin stressed.

Gareth looked at him in surprise, “What happened?”

“Not talking about it. But I will say that it cemented the man’s character in my eyes. Now go warm up your horse.”

Dustin spent most of the morning ringside, watching horses and riders as they went through their classes. His own classes only scheduled for later.

Most of the horses were working cattle horses, and it showed. They were more settled than the high-strung show horses that competed at the nationals. Their gear was scuffed, but well fitting. It also made Geoffrey and his crew stand out all the more, with their silver saddles and matching kits.

That was until
she
entered the arena.

Dustin checked his program to confirm the class, Amateur Pleasure Horse.

He watched as the horse moved around the arena, her seat again light, absorbing the horse’s movements. He envied the horse, wanting to trade places and allow her to ride him like that – again.  And just as soon as the thought entered his mind he squished it. No. He was not going there.

Instead he focused on the sorrel she rode. The horse moved well, it showed well for its level, and the judges noticed, placing it high up on the initial line up. It did not miss a single movement or a change, and gave a very accurate performance. Some would say too well a performance for a horse as obviously green, although he knew, or at least expected as to why that was. But because no one else knew, none could claim foul play when she led the victory lap, with a blue ribbon attached to the horse’s bridle.

Gareth’s second class followed, the Armature Reining, which, although not as spectacular as the advanced reining in length of stops and speed of turns, was always exciting to watch. One got a good gist for the horses and riders coming up the ranks. 

A tingling sensation started along his arm, nothing alarming at first, it was more of a precognition that something was about to happen. He’d felt it increase as the class progressed, only for it to be confirmed once he heard the outlandish proclamations. He’d been able to sense her presence last time as well, and without needing to look he had conformation enough. Geoffrey was, as usual, showing off his latest winner.

Had it not been for the fact that Gareth was the next one in, he would have sought another stand from which to watch.

“Well lookey who we have here. If it isn’t the esteemed dust’em Dustin.” Geoffrey said coming to stand a little more than arm’s length from Dustin. There was an unspoken spacing rule between the two men, one that was universally respected. Although it did not prevent the man from trying to engage in conversation, “I see you brought one of your own protégés along, thinking of challenging me and mine.”

Dustin turned his head to look at the man and lifted his one eyebrow. He was well aware of how the industry fed off rumors. The gamblers would even bet the odds, seeking the next big thing, all based on such rumors.

“I don’t think your lot would be much competition,” Dustin finally replied, knowing he would have to make some stance on the matter. He also knew that it would get people to listen, would catch their interest. A good rivalry marked every show, and he might as well draw the line. He knew that none of Geoffrey’s riders rode at his level, and a whole team against one was not odds anyone would take up.

“That certain of your rider?” Geoffrey challenged him. 

“No, I just know he has more important things to concern himself with than show politics, and levered bets.”

“You never were a good sport.” Geoffrey countered, injecting some humor into this tone when he realized others were listening,  

“I’m a good sport, when I know the odds are fair. I know your wagers all too well.” Dustin said, looking past Geoffrey his gaze meeting hers.

“Oh don’t tell me you’re still sour about that stallion? That’s water under the bridge.” Geoffrey said, obviously realizing from the looks their conversation was drawing that Dustin held the upper hand. “We all make our own choices in life.”

“Yes, we do. And is that what your gonna tell her when your done with her.” Dustin said nudging his head in her direction. “Once she stops winning.”

“Oh, where are my manners?” Geoffrey pretended disbelief as he turned towards his companion, “I haven’t introduced you two.”

“Dustin Breen this is Marcella Gardener, the bestest addition to my string.”

“Yes, I can see that,” Dustin said before turning to address her. “Quite a remarkable performance earlier.” His tone was only marginally warmer than it had been with Geoffrey, not that he would reveal her secret. He simply wanted to assess her response to that, wanted to see if she felt any remorse for what she had done, for her whole involvement in the matter, or if, like Geoffrey, she would simply brush it off.

“We’ve met,” She said, looking him straight in the eye. Her voice still held the slight British accent, something that had slipped his mind, confirming that at least that had not been a performance. Her voice had somehow compelled him to listen, and as it had the last time he’d heard it, it sent a series of tingles along his spine. He’d never given much credit to the belief that a woman’s voice, alone, could arouse a man. But she may as well have reached out and stroked his cock for the way it leapt in response, He only hoped no one would notice.

Geoffrey looked at her in surprise, asking, “When?”

“Vegas, over the new year.” She calmly replied, and then cocked her head to see if he would acknowledge it.

Dustin felt his brow furrow, and made to speak, only to be cut short when Geoffrey said, “Ah, yes, just after you were incorporated into the string.” He then turned to Dustin, “Then the joke’s on you for overlooking such a talented individual, but then she’ll do more with me than you.”

“Time will tell,” Dustin calmly replied. “I do not poach other’s staff.” While his mind tried to process the details, although he did not believe a word Geoffrey uttered, Marcella had mentioned something about being from Vegas. 

Marcella shifted uncomfortably under is gaze, something had him consider the possibility that she’d been offered a position, which could have been linked to her performance with him.

Marcella tilted her head, and then calmly replied, “Certain doors open but once only.” adding a crooked smile.

In his mind, her words confirmed her part in the scheme.

“Well,” Geoffrey started, when it became obvious that neither were going to say anything more, “I’d say she’s gonna give you a run for your money in the final.”

The tingling in Dustin’s body increased, why, he had no idea, but too many alarm bells were ringing. The first leg of the open competition had not even begun, there was no way Geoffrey could be certain she’d even make it to the finals, given her talent and all. Also Dustin knew Geoffrey did not have a horse at that level, unless…. he did not want to consider the alternative, he could already see those around them start to speculate.

“How so?” Dustin cautiously asked, looking from her to Geoffrey.

“She’s riding Starbeat in the open working classes.” 

Dustin could feel his forehead furrow. The horse was soured, many thought beyond repair. The horse had in the past brought on his newer riders, it knew every reining pattern in the book and delivered an average performance, most times. It must’ve been at least three seasons since the gelding had seen a cow. Thus Dustin offered no comment.

“Marcella here has breathed new life into the horse. You cannot believe what he does with her in the saddle. I dare say that your boy will be given a run for his title still this year.”

Dustin had no doubt that Marcella could make most men do unspeakable things, whenever she uses them as saddles. God he knew. He pinched his eyes in an attempt to restrain the wayward thought, his cock again pulsed as the image entered his mind, the absolute abandon she displayed as she’d ridden him.  

Once he was certain he had it under control again, he opened his eyes, only to see her tilt her head to the one side. He felt a surge of arousal shoot through him. Too much skin, too much of her neck exposed to him. He remembers kissing it, sucking on it, grunting his pleasure against it as he rocked deep inside her.

Just then, Gareth’s number was called. Dustin had never been as thankful for an interruption in his life. He turned his attention back to the arena, watching as Gareth rode in.

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