Chapter 5
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“Knock, knock.” Scarlet stood in the doorway to Joe’s small barn in the section reserved for the crops.
He’d been checking out the long tray with sprays above it for cleaning lettuce to make sure everything was working for the future crops.
Even in here, he could smell the rich loam of the recently planted crop.
He whirled around. His heart rate sped up. “Scarlet! What happened? Are you all right?”
“I’m better than all right. I got an update from Captain Marshall.” She came inside, stood a few feet away from him. “The FBI found the man they think might be responsible for the incidents at the collective.”
“That’s terrific.” His eyes widened. “What does this mean for us?”
“Nothing immediately. But since there’s hope for solving this siege at the collective, I wanted to let you know. You might not have to wait a long time for me.”
“I’ll wait as long as I have to, love.”
“How sweet.”
He stared at her. She was haloed in a ray of sunshine coming in through the door.
Slowly, he turned off the water and whipped off his gloves.
He took the time to wash his hands. Then he walked toward her.
His eyes glimmered with desire. “You’re dressed real nice, darlin’, but right now I don’t care. ”
He grabbed her to him and she held him tightly. “Are the planters still here?”
“They left at noon.”
“Hmm. Just in time.” She moved into him and buried her face in his neck. He loved it when she did that.
After a tender hug, he drew back and began to unbutton his flannel shirt. “My clothes are dirty, but if it’s okay with you…” He dropped his shirt to the ground.
In answer, she dropped her purse on the floor and yanked off the jacket, then the blouse of the mauve suit she wore. A black and gold bra made of lace pushed up her breasts alluringly.
“Holy Lord in heaven.”
He kicked off his old shoes, unbuttoned his jeans and shoved them and his briefs down together.
Soon, her skirt, underwear and heels joined the pile on the dirt floor.
Glancing around quickly, he saw a stack of clean blankets he’d brought out earlier, snagged a couple, and tossed them on the floor.
She met him in the middle of the blankets.
Lowering his head, he kissed her neck, then the swell of her breasts.
She smelled like the flowers outside. Her breath sped up.
He knelt in front of her and laved her torso with his tongue.
Her belly button. Then buried his face in her curls.
She moaned; it was both feminine and lusty.
Scarlet let him taste her then dropped down to her knees and faced him. His woodsy scent and a hint of sweat was very male. “I dreamed about this.”
“I did too.” His voice caught on the last word. “More than once. It’s only been a week since we’ve been together, but God, I missed you, girl.”
“I missed you.”
This time, their mouths met. They devoured each other. He jerked when she bit his lip. “Oops. I’m too anxious.”
He dragged her hand to his groin. “Now this is anxious.”
She pressed her hand against him. “Mmm.”
He laid back and tugged her on top of him. She straddled his body. He fondled her breasts. Ran his hands along her thighs. Cupped her butt.
She leaned forward and stretched out on top of him. He eased her to the side and he moved to his. “I want to see your face when you lose it.” His dark eyes shone. With love.
“Wow.”
“What, babe?”
“Your face. I feel that, too.”
“What do you feel?”
She whispered, “I love you, Joe.”
“Ah. I love you, too.” He kissed her gently. Then ran his hand down her body to open her to him.
He eased into her slowly. But she clenched around him and he thrust hard. Once again. The third time she went off fast. He held on until she was done, then whispered, “Again.”
They came together in a deluge of ecstasy.
Afterward, they lay still, their bodies aligned.
Finally, he said, “Did the FBI give a timeline?”
“I don’t think so. They’re investigating and we have to wait to see what happens. Now, speaking of time. How much do we have before Seth gets home?”
He slapped his forehead. “Oh, no.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Seth’s um, going to a friend’s house after school. I’m supposed to meet him there.” He leaned over her and braced his arms on either side of her. “Scarlet, sweetheart, I kind of have a date tonight with the kid’s mother. I met her at the co-op. She invited us for dinner.”
“What the hell?” She grabbed onto him. “You can’t go!”
“I have no choice. Seth will already be there. I’ll leave as fast as I can get him in the car.” He laid back. “We still can’t be together openly until the collective finds some answers, right?”
“Right. Hopefully, the medallion guy will be the last of it.”
“The medallion guy?”
“His name is Lewellen Brock. But it’s a long story.”
“Then not for today.” His voice was hoarse and his eyes determined. “I want you again. Right now.”
“I want that too, love.”
* * *
The next day, Scarlet visited Breeding and Branding, the horse farm where Stanley went to stud.
Most people found the smell of horse manure, the hay and the horses themselves unpleasant.
But she didn’t. She’d become accustomed to them when she visited her grandfather.
Today, though, she came without Stanley.
“Well, if it isn’t Ms. Scarlet. How you doin’, honey?” Abe Cantor was the head of this enterprise, about sixty, and he reminded her of her grandfather. He even resembled her grandpa with white hair and white stubble on his face.
“Hey, there, Abe.”
“What brings you here? I know it ain’t time for Stanley to visit.”
“I wanted to talk about Stanley’s pony, the one that was weaned a couple of weeks ago.”
“Yeah. She’s eating solid food and is pretty independent now.”
“Since I have the right of first refusal before she’s sold, I’m interested in buying her this time.”
“You want to keep another horse?”
“Not exactly. I’m giving her to someone. A little boy.”
She’d been thinking about doing this on and off for a while now and made the decision after much thought.
Since Seth could no longer come to her house, she decided she wanted to give him the pony to make him feel better—his words when he petted Stanley.
One side of Joe’s barn already had a couple of stalls.
All he’d need to do was to build a paddock and if he’d let her, she’d pay for it.
“The little tyke must be important to you.”
“He is. So’s his father.” She smiled. “I want to get the tack too. Make sure the saddle and all the reins are for an eight-year-old.”
“We got one that’s near to his size. It’s a little bigger than he’d need now, but you can pad for him and then he’ll grow into it.”
“Great thinking.”
“Let’s go fill out the paperwork. When do you want her delivered?”
“I’m not sure. Let me see how this shakes out.”
“Got it. I’d like to see the boy’s face when Cinnamon arrives. Maybe I can bring her over.”
“You should. He’s going to be ecstatic.”
“You should be in on the joy, too.” A wish she held in her heart, but it was up to Joe.
“Her name is Cinnamon. It matches her coloring.”
After she completed all the paperwork, she drove home thinking about how to tell Joe what she did.
Since he wanted his son to be happy, she was betting he’d accept the pony.
If he didn’t, Scarlet would keep her and when the collective was no longer under siege, Seth could ride him at her place.
She decided to send them the paperwork and a note today, so Joe had time to think it over.
She sat down with chamomile tea and as it steamed beside her, she wrote the missive.
Then she opened the paperwork and found Abe had included a picture of Cinnamon.
The foal was beautiful, with a warm reddish-brown coat with white blazes which stood out against the rich base color. She giggled. How could Joe resist her?
She called one of the cowhands that came in to tend to Stanley and the stall a few hours a day. “Hey, Jake. On your way out today, could you drop something off for me at the farm across the street?”
“Joe’s place?”
“Yeah.”
“Sure. Be by in an hour.”
“I appreciate this.”
“No problem, Ms. Scarlet. No problem at all.”
Hmm, she thought. She hoped this was no problem for Joe, too.
* * *
Joe had waffled between absolute joy at his time with Scarlet yesterday and frustration that it was a one-time thing, for now at least.
“What’s wrong, Dad?” Seth asked after he’d changed out of his school clothes into shorts and a T-shirt. The weather was still warm and sunny as it was early September.
“What do you mean?”
“I saw you for a minute from the doorway. You were sad when I came in. And a little mad.”
“Nah. I’m not sad.”
Seth pouted. “Wish you’d tell me the truth.”
Joe was sick of pretending anyway. And the kid was right about his mood. “I miss Scarlet.”
“Me, too. Is she still in danger?”
“I think so. But she’s got guards to protect her.”
“She should come and live here so we can take care of her.”
Joe pushed back the boy’s dark hair that hung onto his forehead. He was due for a trim. “She needs more than us to protect her.” He stood. “You can watch some TV in here while I cook dinner.”
“’kay.”
Joe went to the kitchen. He prepared a hot meal for them most nights.
He wished this was pizza night, though, because he didn’t feel like cooking.
Maybe he’d make hamburgers on the grill and French fries from the freezer.
He had his hands in the ground meat when the doorbell chimed. “Could you get that, Seth?”
“Okay,” the boy called out.
The door opened and closed soon after. Seth didn’t come right out. Damn, Joe should have answered it himself. He washed his hands off, wiped them on a towel then hurried into the foyer.
Seth knelt on the floor in front of papers that had spilled out of a big manilla envelope. “What’s that?”
The boy looked up, holding a note and a photograph. “I’m not sure about the papers but this is a picture of a pony.”