***Holy marshals on horseback, my life is crazy! Okay, I won't bother to apologize, just start every chapter with one and we'll be good :) We're back in the saddle with our duo(s)...and it's rodeo time! Wooo! Or should I say, Yeehaw? The day is chock full of yummy cowboys, yummy BBQ, and...well...not so yummy craziness at the end. Hmmm...***
***This is to inform you that the story *will* become 'M' rated as of next chapter!! I'd leave it T, but I don't want to get booted off the island! Yes, next chapter will up the rating to 'M', so please look for the story under the 'M' rating next time!***
Stony Brooke: Very lovely.
Evelyn Maxwell: The lady or the music?
Stony Brooke: You play beautifully, too.
Evelyn Maxwell: Have you heard, "I'll Kiss You in the Moonlight"?
Stony Brooke: Is that a song or a promise?
- Red River Range
It's talk that always gets you into trouble with a woman. They always think you mean more than you say.
- The Desert Trail
By the time the kids nearly finished barrel racing, the whole ranch had gathered along the fences of the largest corral in order to kick off the adult competitions. The day had warmed quickly, the sun breaking through the gloomy, nebulous clouds of the morning, and most had shed jackets, pushed up sleeves and were now applying sunscreen to bits most likely to get crispy. The rodeo was treated as part holiday, part smack-down, and even the kitchen personnel had paused in seemingly perpetual meal preparation to egg on the competitors during the most popular events: calf roping, bronco busting and barrel racing.
The last kid shot across the finish line to the whoops and cheers of the onlookers while their time was announced in a tinny warble over the weak speaker system. Good enough for another round of cheers, but not fast enough to catch the leader: Tyler. High pitched squeals of glee pinpointed his location in the crowd, and Mary turned to watch the boy climb onto the top rail of the fence to swing his hat in the air. She had to chuckle at the fledgling attempt to celebrate "cowboy style," urged on by his friends and the younger ranch hands while his mother stood nearby and grinned proudly.
Mary noticed Sheryl's smile didn't quite disguise the furrowed brow and rigid set of her shoulders. The woman was tense. Wariness as her own reflex, Mary glanced about the crowd for any obvious impetus of distress, but seeing nothing overtly concerning, she brought her attention back to her witness as the woman moved to intercept Tyler as he was walked along the top rail to the post near Mary. She was ready to offer her own congratulations when she was jostled from her other side.
"Now it's going to get good," Sophie said, waggling her eyebrows and pointing past the young cowhands removing the barrels from the arena. "The big boys are going to play."
"Goddamn," exclaimed Diane, stepping up a rail to crane her neck and get a better view. "You just can't beat a man's ass in a pair of chaps to get the juices flowing. Unless you have a riding crop, of course…" she trailed off with a quiet whoop as the objects of her perversions moved into view.
"I'm pretty sure I need a series of shots to room with you," Mary muttered, joining the girls at the fence. The mention of chaps had seriously piqued her interest.
She could catch glimpses of Marshall amongst the other wranglers and mounts milling about outside the ring, the constant movement as the participants readied themselves preventing her from keeping her eye on him for long. The loudspeaker sputtered to life again just as she was trying to figure out what they were getting ready to do.
"Anybody who wants to get in on the calf roping better sign up right now. We're starting in five minutes."
One of the wranglers separated himself from the throngs and wandered towards her side of the ring. Eliot. He waved and winked at the women on his way over to congratulate Tyler. Mary ignored the cat calls and wagering going on around her and watched the man pluck the child from his seated perch on the fence and toss him gently into the air. Tyler squealed with delight. It was too far to hear the words exchanged, but Eliot's attention and praise clearly caused the young boy to swell with pride. Mary could understand why Sheryl now nearly beamed as Eliot passed Tyler back to her. Tyler bounced up and down with his hands out as Eliot reached into his back pocket and produced some sort of prize. After he leaned down to pin it on the boy's shirt, Mary had to hide her own smile. A five pointed star. Fitting…and possibly prophetic by the time this whole fiasco was rubbed down for the night.
She almost missed it as her gaze lingered on the young boy and his tin star. Almost missed the brief exchange of a whisper and touch between two adults that had her eyebrows crawling towards her hat brim. Might have led herself to believe it was imagined on a day where spirits were high and the sun was in her eyes were it not for the fortuitous breeze that flung Tyler's question in her direction.
"Mr. Eliot, are you gonna stay overnight at our house again?"
Out of the mouth of babes spewed harbingers of doom, and Mary had to forcibly drag her eyes away from the trio as she tried not to show her shock. Are you shitting me? She squeezed her eyes shut and pinched the bridge of her nose while leaning against the fence post and trying not to think of all the ways this little development was a bad thing. Epic bad. Didn't even bother trying to imagine anyway it could be a good thing. Would've been easier to start believing in the Tooth Fairy.
Her mind raced with scenarios: Sheryl telling Eliot about Brad's operation, Sheryl telling Eliot about the fed's operation, Eliot telling someone else about the operation…Eliot already knowing about the operation. The last one had her eyes flying open to glare at the man from underneath her brows. The laughing man who ruffled a small boy's hair as he gently stroked the cheek of the woman standing next to him. A seemingly kind man. How long had he been on the ranch? she wondered, trying to recall stats from the files. Wasn't he a vet? Special Forces, she suddenly remembered. Her stomach knotted as protective instincts and a proprietary urge to stalk over and drag her witness away from a potential threat had to be squashed.
"Dammit," she muttered, as there were just too many uncertainties about personnel and players to make an educated conclusion. Or even a gut-driven one. The wrangler hadn't pinged her radar even once since she had met him, and as he now wandered back towards the horses behind the gates, Mary couldn't help but see the genuine pleasure on Sheryl's face left over from his brief visit. Nothing but pure trust there. She swore again as she turned back to her camp-mates and tried to decide on a course of action. Her brief ennui seemingly not noticed due to the intoxicating testosterone cloud wafting across the corral, Mary took the moment to pull out her phone and shoot Stan a text message.
"Eliot Sweeney. Nothing specific, but S thinks he's pretty."
It was all she could do for now.
-o-o-o-o-
Marshall ran his hands down Socrates' nose and around his cheeks to check all the straps and buckles of the bridle and reins, murmured words of encouragement and continued his slow pre-ride assessment of the mount the same way a pilot would conduct a pre-flight check. Head to tail and all points in between. He didn't want any structural failures as they chased their prey across the corral. Pretty sure he was going to be shown up by the young bucks despite his nearly equal skill, Marshall knew he had two major disadvantages: time and age. He was out of practice and edging out the top end of the age bracket. He wanted a respectable show in front of the other wranglers. Hell, he'd even have to admit he'd like to impress a certain cowgirl.
He couldn't help but smile as he thought about her soft body pinned between him and the wall. Lips. Tongue. Neck. The way her thigh bunched under his palm as he rocked against her. There was no mistaking that kiss for pretense. She had been as lost as he was, just as defined by the moment; left breathless and wanting as they reluctantly parted.
Socrates snorted and stomped a foot as Marshall had lingered too long behind one haunch, the horse somehow sensing his master's loss of attention.
"You have no idea, buddy," Marshall murmured to the animal as he finished his adjustments, cinching the saddle buckle tight. "And if you embarrass me in front of the pretty lady you'll be on the menu at La Tour d'Argent next week."
Marshall chuckled as Socrates shook his head in apparent argument - or agreement - and swung himself into the saddle as the lineup was announced over the speakers. He focused his mind on the task at hand and desirable outcome. The lasso was draped over the saddle horn, his boots were secure in the stirrups and when he adjusted his weight as he pulled on his gloves, there was no slippage in the saddle. Ready to ride. The wind whipped the loose straw into small dervishes along the fence line as the cowhands led the calf into the ring, and the horses began to dance with excitement. They were familiar with this game and eager to play their part.
He scanned the crowd for the familiar face and found her stare intent upon him, expression unreadable. Uncertainty fluttered uncomfortably in his chest for a moment, but then Mary winked at him and tossed her head in challenge, her own wildness echoed in a movement copied by his mount. He grinned and tipped his hat, acceptance of her metaphoric token of favor.
The calf bawled as one of the cattle dogs slipped into the ring, sensing an opportunity for play. Carter whistled sharply from the direction of the barn and the dog slinked back out to join a few more of her comrades in the shade, apparently disappointed the entertainment was not for her, but the jumpy bovine now attracted the attention of the horses. Marshall could appreciate their eagerness to work. Duty and passion, though anthropomorphized, were one in the same for these animals. They were good at what they did and knew some sort of reward would be forthcoming. He nudged Socrates with a knee to move them closer to the gate. They were first. He checked the angle of the sun one last time, slipped the piggin' string between his teeth, and nodded his readiness.
The speakers beeped the start of the event as the calf was released, and the gate was opened. Socrates burst through in a beeline for the calf with Marshall bent purposefully over his neck, hat shoved low and lasso in his hand. The calf raced to the middle of the ring, braced its front legs and lowed a challenge at the approaching menace, and Mary held her breath as the crowd burst into cheers and calls for one team or the other.
He was intense. Visage of ruthless purpose as he barked direction to the horse while shifting and repositioning to lean into and out of turns as they relentlessly chased their prey. Marshall rose out of the saddle slightly as he primed and twirled the lasso while they finally rode up on the calf, tossing the rope over the animal as he reined Socrates into a skid, dismounting with a leap before the horse was stopped.
Mary found herself leaning against the fence and encouraging him in a low chant as she glanced at the large timer on the pole near the ring. She was fascinated by the corded muscles in his forearms and the sweat stains on his shirt as he wrestled the captured calf onto its side in order to capture its flailing limbs. Her breath quickened with an excitement she hadn't expected to feel. The participants were close to her end of the ring, and Marshall grunted loudly as the calf caught him with one hoof to his thigh. Mary winced in sympathy. That would leave a mark. There was a flurry of movement as long limbs finally succeeded in subduing the adversary, and then Marshall stepped away with his hands in the air. Six seconds later the time was called official as Marshall's knot held. Mary joined the crowd in yelling her approval, pumping one fist in the air. Marshall removed his hat to wipe his forehead with a forearm, squinting at the time on the clock. He shook his head with a grin and shrugged before turning to address the women hanging on the fence. His eyes met Mary's.
"This old boy can still throw down an acceptable wrap and slap, ladies. Watch yourselves."
Diane and Sophie cat-called him and Mary just laughed. Marshall walked over to accept a few high fives, some from Tyler and the other young boys, and he reached out to flick the brim of her hat as he passed her.
"That knot will hold you to just about any headboard." The words were low and just for her. Challenge and promise from a man in dusty chaps.
Mary grinned and raked him with her gaze as she joined the game. "I guarantee I'll leave more marks that that calf did." There was definitely too much testosterone this close to the ring.
Desire flashed in his eyes before his attention was called by the other wranglers as they cleared the ring for the next contestant. Mary watched him walk away and had to agree with Diane's prior assessment: Asses and chaps were a highly complementary pair.
-o-o-o-o-o-
Calf roping gave way to bronco busting and barrel racing. Eliot and two other wranglers were the crowd favorites, impromptu cheers floating through the crowd as money was not-so-discretely exchanged as each time flashed onto the clock. Mary somehow found herself upon Marshal for the ladies barrel races. She cursed her way around the obstacles as she fought to retain her seat, but the promise of a month's worth of rib dinners from her partner and two Ben Franklins from the roomies made the humiliating endeavor worth it.
A different story as she assumed her stance for the target shooting. Nothing complicated, just .22's at mid-range with targets of various sizes. Mary was confident in her ability to out-gun the competition…until Sophie stepped up to the line. She shared a shocked look with Marshall as Sophie's scores nudged up against her own. The woman was either a natural or…
"Jesus," Mary said as Sophie turned the rifle over to the next competitor. "Do you reenact Dances with Wolves on the weekend or something?"
"Well, I do a little better with a longer range and an AR-15, but I've been told I'm adequate with this caliber." Sophie's blasé attitude was surprising, and Mary must've looked confused. "Remember that boyfriend I had? He was some sort of sharp shooter. Used to get his rocks off watching me shoot, so…" She shrugged and shoved her hands in her pockets. "Turned out I was some kind of prodigy, so now I keep it up for fun."
Mary mentally re-categorized Sophie into her 'sleep lightly' file as she watched the woman walk over to the judging table to retrieve her scores. The surprises just kept coming, and she shivered slightly as she felt unseen eyes on her again. Looking around, she realized everyone was heading back towards the main lodge; beverages and BBQ promised as reward for a successful event, and her roommate was whistling her over.
Two more days, Shannon, she promised herself, on the move to join the crowd. You're too close to get spooked now.
-o-o-o-o-o-
Either Sheryl and Eliot had made a conscious decision to reveal their relationship, or Mary had not been paying close enough attention. It certainly hadn't been a known fact prior to the marshals' arrival, as there was absolutely no mention of it in any of the files, but whether the relationship itself was new, or just the overt signs, she didn't know. The couple currently sat on one of the benches near the beverage bar, knees touching and heads bowed over their plates, occasionally laughing at something the other said. Tyler would pop over frequently to ask a question or steal a piece of food, more than likely just making sure his presence hadn't been forgotten by the two adults in his life who were now acting oddly. The staff, in general, didn't seem to react to the situation in any noticeable way, telling Mary that the behind-the-scenes gossip was well contained. Outsiders were out of the loop…as was management, she thought as she spotted Brad standing near the dining room doors.
He stared daggers at the couple on the bench. Slowly drinking a beer and half hiding in the shadows late afternoon offered, Mary would definitely describe him as predatory. Sizing up the situation and looking for some weakness to promote, or provoke. Mary knew what he was thinking…what he was planning. She was well acquainted with the games abusers played when their prey attracted a protector. He would decide on one of two options in order to drive a wedge into the relationship, neither forcing him to confront Eliot directly: Convince Sheryl of her own unworthiness, or threaten something precious to her if she didn't abide by his rules.
As if on cue, Leanne galloped out of the barn, beelined for her brother and squatted down next to him while chattering excitedly. His eyes lit up, and she grabbed his hand as she jumped up and pulled him with her back towards the barn. Mary's gaze snapped back to Brad. The man had shifted feet and shoved one hand into his pocket as he finished his beer, his stare now directed at the barn doors.
Mary's gut tightened into a sick knot. She needed to find Marshall.
-o-o-o-o-o-
Marshall led the last horse into the large barn as the ranch guests mingled near the main lodge on the other side of the parking lot. The wranglers and cowhands had eaten early in order to fuel up for the big clean up. Not only did every horse need to be rubbed down and stabled, as the guests were excused this one time, but he and Manuel also pulled the duties of breaking down the makeshift bleachers. Tucky had joined them, making the task slightly easier, but now all three men were a dusty, sweaty mess and ready for the showers. His friends veered off to put away equipment in the smaller barn while Marshall just looked forward to completing the last duty of the day.
He knew he was going to regret the exertions of the day, and his prophecy of aches and pains was now manifesting. Smiling to himself as he recalled some philosophical study expounding upon the rational interpretations of hormonal acts, he could only hope that his intent to impress would be worth the stock he'd have to buy in Bengay. He limped slightly as he turned the corner to lead the mare into her stall. Voices speaking in rapid fire Spanish surprised him.
"…Cargarán el ganado en el granero de Redpoint o en el punto intermedio?" A woman's voice that was familiar.
"Generalmente de Redpoint. Depende encendido si cooperan las vacas," a male replied.
Both parties turned to look at Marshall as he came into view, and Diane smiled brightly.
"Marshall, I was looking for you," she exclaimed. "I decided to just wait and grill poor Gus instead of wandering around aimlessly." She turned to shake Gus' hand and murmured a 'gracias' as the young man took his leave.
The situation felt slightly odd. "And you needed my services because?" Marshall asked, prodding the horse into its stall. He turned back to the woman and tilted his head with a grin. "Obviously not for translation."
Diane chuckled and blushed slightly, walked over to lean against the divider between stall windows. "What? A farm girl from Iowa can't take a class or two of Spanish in high school?"
"And develop a nearly textbook perfect Sonoran accent?" he countered. He patted the horse now eating some oats and stepped out of the stall to secure the door. Resting one hip on the wall a few feet from Diane, Marshall crossed his arms and grinned at her.
She rolled her eyes and waved her hands around dismissively. "Yeah, yeah, the secret's out. Long story quick, my mom died when I was about four, and my dad moved to Mexico City to take a job with the State Department. Of course, he met a señorita, fell in love, and married the poor woman." She paused to chuckle at some inside joke before continuing, "So, my formative years were spent debajo del sol mexicano. We moved back to Iowa when I was about sixteen. Been there ever since." She tossed him a saucy look and levered off the wall.
"I can tell you how incredibly hot you look in about five different dialects…if you'd like?"
Marshall swallowed, automatically formulating an escape plan. "I think Gus would be disappointed. He looked hopeful."
"I think Gus is long gone. Thought I was only interested in the logistics of a cattle drive." She covered the distance between them and reached out to run her finger down his sweaty forearm. "But I was planning on driving something else."
She stared up at him with brown eyes full of intent, and Marshall leaned backwards to eliminate the intimate distance. "That's a problem, ma'am," he drawled, smiling to take the sting out of his refusal, "as they frown upon taking the cars around the track here. Though I do appreciate the notion."
He couldn't believe there was no other person on this end of the barn. Where the hell had everyone gone? He glanced past her shoulder with hopes to glimpse a hint of humanity nearby. Diane took advantage of his inattention to step in toe to toe and hooked one finger over the top of his belt buckle. Marshall stepped back quickly, his own hand covering hers to prevent any further intrusion. Diane chuckled and reached up to ruffle his hair.
"My, my, a little skittish?" she purred. "Don't be…I'm a very good driver."
"Oh!" The exclamation came from the end of the hallway, and Marshall's stomach dropped into his feet as he spotted the intruder.
Mary stood a few feet away with her jacket gripped in one hand and a gamut of emotions playing across her face. He was glad that Diane was facing away for the moment, as there was no mistaking the hurt and anger clearly brewing in Mary's eyes. He found himself shaking his head and mouthing a 'no' in response to her distress, but she only dropped her eyes to stare at the floor in still silence. A moment later, she was in motion with some sound words of advice directed towards her roommate.
"You might want to move to the other side of the wall there. That way no one will be able to see your head and Marshall will have something to hold on to." The flare of her nostrils betrayed the depth of her anger to Marshall even though she managed to keep her tone light.
Diane giggled and turned to face Mary even as she kept a hand on his buckle. "Or…we could just invite you to the party?"
The invitation seemed half serious and Marshall could see Mary's fist tighten within the folds of the jacket. She shoved the other hand into her back pocket and tilted her head in a way that only promised future misery. Wouldn't even look at him. The tight smile that flashed across her face had him prying Diane's hands off him even before she spoke.
"Three's a crowd, from my experience, but by all means…carry on." She caught Marshall's eyes with a hard stare before whirling to stalk back down the hallway and out into the night.
/\/\/\/\/\\\\\\\\\\\/\\\\\\\\\\\\\/\/\/\
Eliot finally found her in the smaller barn adjacent to the main corral. It had taken him nearly a half hour to track her down once he had run across Maggie and Tyler in the main lodge and been told that Sheryl seemed distressed and had headed out the door "in a tizzy." He wasn't sure of the details, but Tyler had said his mom was mad at his sister for not coming back to the lodge when she called for her.
The setting sun cast the landscape in blue shadow, and as the frogs began to serenade their mates down by the river, Eliot had finally run across a cowhand who had seen Sheryl a few minutes prior. Night had just begun to wrap the world in indigo velvet when he stepped into the shadowy building.
"Sheryl?" he called, anxiety furrowing his brow and quickening his step. There was a flurry of activity in one of the stalls and he walked that way as he called her again. She didn't answer.
She had saddled the horse by the time he reached the stall and was in the process of buckling the harness as he got a good look at her. Eyes reddened from crying, her hair was pulled into a messy ponytail and she had thrown on an oversized jacket she must've grabbed from one of the boys. His concern increased.
"Sher, what's going on?" Eliot stepped in the stall and set his hands on her shoulders. She immediately shrugged him off and whirled to face him.
"I can't find her!" She sniffled and wiped her nose on a sleeve. "I've been looking for an hour, Eliot, and she's nowhere to be found. I need to go look for her…now! I'm terrified that…" Her face crumpled and she turned quickly back to her task but now fumbled with the straps.
"Hey," he tried to remain calm…soothing. "She's probably hunkered down with the new litter of kittens and hasn't heard you calling. She's never wandered off before, Sheryl. She knows better." He rubbed her back. "Let's go through the - "
She cut him off. "Dammit, Eliot, don't you think I thought of that? Don't you think I've looked everywhere ten times? Don't you think I've called her and called her…asked everyone if they've seen her?" Her voice rose in pitch, and as she fumbled the buckle again she cursed and slapped at the horse. The mount stepped away in irritation and Eliot reached out to grab her shoulders again. Turned her to him.
"Okay…okay…I understand." He waited until she looked at him. "But why are you saddling up a ride, Sher? Where are you going? Where do you think she is?"
Sheryl gave her head a quick shake and stared at the wall behind him. "I just need to look around. I just need to check a few spots in case…" Her eyes filled with tears again as her lower lip quivered. She was scared. And now so was he.
"What's going on? What are you not telling me?" He gave her shoulders a gentle shake to regain her attention. "Sheryl. Talk to me so I can help."
She stared at him for a moment longer in indecision as tears ran down her cheeks. Finally, she sighed shakily and reached out to grab his jacket with both hands. Her voice was barely above a whisper. "Okay. Promise to come with me and I'll tell you the story."
***Um...yeah, I'm thinking all is *not* well in cowboy paradise here. All around! I don't even know what to say! Yikes! Please REVIEW to let me know what you think...I know you will! Love it! ***