Molding Clay (2 page)

at the latest.”

“So call him up and tell him I’ll be there tomorrow.”

“Fine,” Ana sounded miffed. “But call me the minute you get there.”

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Molding Clay

“Yes, ma’am,” Clay replied.

“You promise?”

“Scout’s honor.”

“Well, that means diddly but I’m holding you to it and if you don’t I’ll…I’ll—”

“Cast a spell and give him a case of jock itch!” Chase yelled in the background.

“Now that’s just mean,” Clay said with a laugh. “I’ll call you. Have a good night,

Ana.”

“You too. I love you,” she said before she hung up.

Clay closed the phone and returned it to the case clipped on his belt. Ana and

Chase had been acting awfully peculiar about this deal with the Blackhawk fellow.

Even Clay’s father Charlie was being close-mouthed about the guy.

Clay still wasn’t sure why he’d gotten elected to take on the running of the

Blackhawk operation. He was more interested in riding bulls than breeding horses at

the moment. This year he figured he’d qualify for the nationals.

But a man had to make a living and since he’d graduated with a master’s degree in

animal husbandry five years ago, he’d been working to build up a reputation. Today

the Circle R boasted the finest stock horses in the country. As far as Clay was concerned

they were doing just fine, with no need to take on a small operation like Blackhawk’s.

But Charlie was adamant. Actually, Clay was convinced that Charlie was standing

firm on it because of Ana and Clara. Apparently this Blackhawk fellow was a distant

relative of Ana’s she’d discovered last year when she and Chase took a trip to the

Carolinas to visit the place where Ana’s grandfather had lived.

After they returned, Ana and Clara went to work selling Chase and Charlie on the

idea. In the past Charlie wouldn’t have let anyone talk him into doing anything he

didn’t want to do. But now things were different.

After nearly losing Clara to the maniac ex-husband Ana had run away from when

Ana first arrived in Arizona six years ago, Charlie had realized how much he loved the

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woman. It took him three years to convince her to marry him but she’d finally said yes,

and Charlie wasn’t about to upset the apple cart by denying her something she

obviously wanted so badly.

All Clay could figure was that Ana wanted to help her cousin or whatever

Blackhawk was to her. And since Ana and Clara were now thick as thieves, the men of

the Circle R didn’t stand a chance against them.

So here he was, headed for the Blackhawk place with orders to get it up and

running and making money as fast as possible. While Clay might have been a little

annoyed to be the one to inherit the job, he was also secretly a little pleased that his

father trusted him to oversee things. And he was determined to make it a success.

How he’d get along with Blackhawk was a mystery. All he’d heard about the man

was that when it came to training horses there wasn’t anyone who could touch him.

And apparently he’d trained the last three years’ champion barrel racers and their

horses. That was something Clay had to admire.

Whether that admiration would lead to congenial working relations was anyone’s

guess, but that question would be answered soon enough and right now all Clay

wanted was to get a shower, stretch his legs and relax. Tomorrow was soon enough to

face the mystery of Rusty Blackhawk.

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Molding Clay

Chapter Two

Rusty turned to her wolf Koda as she parked her old truck in the graveled parking

lot of Bill’s Bar, beside a shiny new Dodge Ram double cab. “Somebody hit the lottery?”

she asked Koda, who sat on the other side of the seat, his head hanging out of the

window.

He yipped a reply and she laughed. If someone had just hit it rich then maybe

they’d be feeling generous and buy her a beer. As it stood, she had enough for one beer

and a salad. And a steak for Koda. After that she was broke.

A mild wave of panic gripped her. The man from the Circle R had not shown up. If

they decided to back out, she was in real trouble. She’d already talked to the folks at the

local branch bank about getting a loan and had been politely but firmly turned down.

With a determined jut of her chin, she pushed the anxiety aside. It was all going to

work out. She just had to believe that. “Be back in a little while,” she said to Koda

before getting out of the truck.

A wave of noise, sweat, smoke and grilling meat hit her when she pulled open the

door of the bar. She’d no sooner stepped inside when a loud voice erupted from behind

the bar. “Well kiss my grits! I ain’t seen you in a coon’s age, gal. Where the hell you

been?”

Rusty grinned and walked over to the bar. The bartender and owner, Wes Nash,

came out from behind the bar, wrapped his arms around her and lifted her up in a hug.

“You’re a welcome sight for sore eyes, darlin’. How you doing, baby?”

“Right now, struggling to breathe,” she laughed and hugged him back. “How you

doing, Wes? Mary’s ’bout due now, isn’t she?”

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“Two more weeks, according to the doctors,” Wes replied as he put her down and

started walking behind the bar. “’Course that’s what they said two weeks ago, so what

the hell do they know?”

“She’ll come when she’s ready,” Rusty replied and then froze when Wes jerked to a

halt with wide eyes.

“She?” he yelled, then grinned, slapped his hands together, gave a whoop and

made a shouted announcement to the bar at large. “You hear that, ya’ll? I’m finally

gonna get me a little girl!”

Cheers broke out over Wes’s proclamation. “Beer’s on the house, ya’ll!”

“Hey, hold on!” Rusty shouted to be heard over the din of the crowd as a couple of

guys made room for her at the bar. “Wes, hey, Wes!”

He was paying no attention. He was too busy at the tap, filling beer glasses and

going on over how long he and Mary had wanted to have a little girl. Six boys and they

were starting to think they were never going to have that little girl. But now that Rusty

had said “she” he was a happy man because he was going to be the daddy of a baby

girl.

Rusty shook her head and accepted the mug of beer he offered. She lifted it in a

toast and he reached out with both hands, grabbed her long hair on either side of her

head and pulled her halfway across the bar to plant a noisy kiss on her mouth.

That brought another round of cheers, hoots and hollers and the energy in the bar

cranked up several notches. Rusty laughed and took a long pull from the mug. It was

good to be surrounded by such positive energy. Even if she was going to walk out of

there poor as a church mouse, this moment was worth it.

From across the bar, the big man at the table alone watched the dark-haired beauty.

Christ on a crutch.
His dick had surged to life the moment she walked into the bar. At

best estimate she wasn’t much over five feet tall but was built like something out of a

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midnight fantasy. The worn tight jeans she wore had holes at the knees and along the

side of the left back pocket, exposing a silver-dollar patch of creamy skin.

The t-shirt stretched across her chest sported faded words that read “redneck gals

like it rowdy”. He’d sure like to show her some rowdy redneck sex. Just thinking about

it made his balls tingle. Suddenly he was glad he’d decided to hang around a bit after

he’d eaten. The night ahead was looking better every moment.

He waited and watched. At the moment the woman was surrounded by people,

mostly men, drinking and laughing like she was one of the boys. He recognized the lack

of sexual chemistry between her and any of the men. No, she wasn’t about to hook up

with any of the fellows at the bar. What he saw happening was friendship. Old, solid

and familiar.

Which worked out just fine for him. A few drinks, some good-old-boy charm and

he wouldn’t be spending the night alone.

Rusty clapped Jesse Whitestone on the shoulder and wished him well, then finished

her beer and turned to look for an empty booth or table. Three beers on an empty

stomach had her feeling a little high and she wanted a quiet spot to sit and eat. As her

eyes passed over the bar they jerked to an abrupt halt.

Great googly moogly! Her nipples tightened as her eyes latched onto those of the

man sitting at a table alone.
Hey baby,
her pussy screamed. What her mother would

have called a “long drink of cool water” stared back at her. Intense hazel eyes beneath

elegant thick brows set into a face that belonged in a dream. A very sexy, hot, long

dream.

Rusty didn’t realize how intently she was staring at the man until she became

aware that the only sound she could hear was the rapid beat of her own heart. She

snapped to and forced herself to break the electric contact with his eyes.

Whew! Get a grip
, she told herself.
Remember what happened the last time you got drunk

and rowdy.

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That thought alone was enough to snap her back to sobriety. With a quick farewell

to Wes and friends at the bar, she hurried outside to her truck. Koda cocked his head

curiously as she climbed in, gripped the steering wheel and lowered her forehead down

on it. Her body was still humming from her attraction to the stranger in the bar. The

unfulfilled sexual side of her nature was screaming for her to turn around and go back

in and see what might happen. The rational side of her was trying hard to remind her

that the last time she’d allowed herself to act on lust she’d regretted it. Not that she

feared getting pregnant again. She’d armed herself with a prescription for a “morningafter pill” just in case she ever found herself needing it. So far, she hadn’t had to worry

about it because sex had become nothing more than a memory.

“I almost screwed up,” she said when she raised her head.

Koda yapped several short barks and she cut her eyes at him as she started the

truck. “I said almost. Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten. And yes, I do still owe you a

steak. We’ll stop at the store on the way home.”

Wondering if she had just saved herself a mess of trouble or walked out on what

could have been one rollicking good time, she pulled out of the parking lot.

* * * * *

Rusty was normally up with the roosters but as it turned out, she hadn’t fallen

asleep until after dawn. She and Koda had stopped at the store on her way home from

Bill’s Bar. She’d spent her last dollar on beef for Koda and a six-pack for herself.

After polishing off the six-pack and heaving it back up, she’d been unable to sleep.

The fellow from the Circle R had not shown up yesterday, not to mention that sleeping

in the bunkhouse was not nearly as much fun as she remembered it being in her youth.

The floor would be as comfortable as the thin mattresses on the bunk beds. And

thoughts of the stranger in the bar had her uncomfortably horny.

She hated she’d had to have her cell phone turned off. If she still had it she’d call

Ana and see if the Russell family had changed their minds.

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Molding Clay

Koda yipped at her and she rolled her eyes. “I am not wishing the deal would fall

through.” She looked away from his gaze and continued. “Okay, maybe a little, but a

deal’s a deal and I’ll stick to my end of it.”

Unable to resist teasing, she added, “You just better hope that fella doesn’t show up

here with a yapping toy poodle that thinks it should rule the roost.”

Koda gave her the canine equivalent of a laugh, showing his impressive teeth.

Rusty laughed right along with him. Koda was a bit on the intimidating side to say the

least. Having inherited the grey coloring of the wolf bitch that birthed him, and the size

of the Rottweiler that sired him, along with nearly colorless blue eyes, he had little

trouble commanding respect.

“Okay, day’s a-wastin’,” Rusty said as she climbed to her feet and snatched up her

jeans and boots.

She dressed and went outside. Since the house was unlivable and roped off until

the arson investigators finished going through it, the only shower available came in the

form of the hose attached to the spigot on the well house. The shower in the bunkhouse

had been broken for more than a year. Since she hadn’t been able to afford help the last

couple of years, there wasn’t any reason to fix it.

Rusty fetched her small portable radio, along with soap and shampoo from the

barn, and tuned the radio to a country station. Koda whined as she cranked the volume

up and sang along as she wet herself down and started to soap up.

* * * * *

Clay swallowed the last of his take-out coffee as he drove down the long wooded

drive that led into the Blackhawk place. He had to admit it was a nice spread. The

pastures were green and lush, and towering hardwoods and pines lined the drive. From

what he’d seen so far of the area, it wasn’t bad at all. If there were bars and women

nearby, he’d do just fine.

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In the years since he’d graduated, Clay had filled out and toughened up. He’d also