The Cattle Drive [The Armstrong Brothers of Cedar Creek] (Siren Publishing Classic) (17 page)

“Hey, half-pint, how in the hell have you been?”

“Can’t…breathe…” Matthew laughed and put the boy down, patting him on his back as Henry tried to catch his breath.

“Damn, Mikie. What are you feeding this boy? He has gotten big,” he said, taking the beer out of Michael’s hand. He soon found a seat at the table and started doctoring his wounds with a cold beer and antibiotic ointment. Michael just stood by the fridge and opened it, grabbing another beer. Hoping this time he could finish it.

“What brings you this far north, Uncle Matthew?” Henry asked, opening the gauze for him. “Gram didn’t say
you
would be coming.”

Matthew and Michael both caught on to the emphasis of the word “you” from Henry’s mouth. They both looked at each other and turned to the boy, who had a huge grin across his face. As if sharing one brain, they both asked in unison, “Who did she say was coming?”

“She said Uncles Mark, Mitchell, and Marcus would be here on Tuesday,” he said and then looked at his father. “Dad, why is Gram sending your brothers here?”

Michael and Matthew both looked at each other and sighed. Michael didn’t even bother to take another drink. He just handed his beer to Matthew and went to go get another one.

The ranch was bustling by the time Rachael made her way outside. She noticed Michael’s car, along with Henry’s truck, and there parked next to it was the blue BMW. She just shook her head and walked toward the stables.

“Mystic!” she yelled as she entered the barn, running toward the back stall where smoke was billowing out of. She grabbed the hose and tried to turn the water spigot, but it wouldn’t budge. As she ran to find help, the stable doors closed, trapping her inside. The fire caught and soon. The barn was engulfed in flames.

She was trapped.

* * * *

Michael and Matthew were out near the corral when Kenny shouted into the walkie-talkie. “Fire in the stables!” All hands within hearing range jumped on their horses and headed back toward the house. Matthew and Michael were accomplished riders and soon took the lead riding for hell and fire.

They arrived to find the stable fully engulfed in flames.

“The damn stable door is shut! Get it open and get those horses out!” Matthew yelled. Michael and the boys were already at the door, and within seconds they had them opened. The boys quickly ran to the stalls, each removing the horses in record time. As Michael went to grab Mystic, he found Rachael lying under the horse, unconscious.

“Matthew, your bag!” Michael shouted. He picked up Rachael and threw her over his shoulder, giving Mystic a hard slap on the rear, moving toward the stable door. Michael had her outside and on the ground as Matthew ran back over and took control.

“Mikie, CPR. She isn’t breathing,” Matthew shouted. He was looking in his bag, as Michael did as he was told. Finding what he was looking for, he grabbed her arm and stuck the syringe into it. Together the two brothers took turns pumping her chest and breathing into her mouth. Matthew, having had enough of that shit already, balled up his fist and slammed it down on her chest. The force shook her body, and when Michael breathed another breath into her lungs, she started coughing.

“About damn time,” Matthew said, frustrated. “Henry, go get some water.”

“Michael…” she tried to talk.

“You’re okay, honey. Everything’s going to be okay,” he answered.

“The door…someone…the…” she managed to say before she passed out.

“We need to get her into the house. I need to check her properly,” Matthew said, standing, grabbing his bag, and heading toward the house. Michael picked her up and carried her into the house and up to her room, with Matthew on his heels.

Michael was sitting at the table when Matthew came down looking like crap.

He walked over and took the beer from Michael’s hand and took a drink.

“How is she?” Michael asked.

“She is sleeping. I gave her a sedative. She will be out for the rest of the day.”

“Matthew, thank you.”

“No problem, Mikie,” he said, taking another drink. “Did you hear what she said?”

“Yeah, I heard. Everyone heard. The boys are out scouring the ranch for anyone that might still be around, but I doubt they find anyone,” he said, getting up and walking to look out the back door.

“Michael. What the hell is going on?” Matthew asked.

“He knows, Mattie.”

“How? We have all been careful. How did he find out?”

“I don’t know but he knows.”

“Shit. Maybe we should get him out of here.”

“I thought of that already. It won’t work. He won’t go.”

“So Mom figures by getting us all together that we can stop him?”

“I guess.”

“About the fire…has he tried anything else?”

“Yeah, but nothing like this, though. At first it was stupid minor shit, but two days ago she was out at the pond for a swim. Mattie, he cut up her cattle and put the carcasses in the pond. She almost drowned. He isn’t going to quit, is he? He is going to kill everyone to get him.”

“Over my dead body, Mikie. He will have to kill us all before we let that happen. I guess I got here just in time, looks like the fun is about to begin,” he said, finishing the beer and heading back upstairs to check on Rachael.

* * * *

Knowing the rest of the Armstrong clan was descending, Michael went into town for some supplies. He couldn’t help but smile at the thought of having his brothers around once again. Whenever there was a need, his brothers all banded together. There was nothing they wouldn’t do for each other. The last time they had all been to together was three years ago, when Mitchell was in an automobile accident with two broken legs. For two months the brothers nagged, picked, pushed, and fought with each other. It was Mitchell who had finally had enough and kicked them all out.

There wasn’t anything Michael wouldn’t do for his brothers.

He was making his way toward the checkout counter when he heard him.

“Come on, darlin’. It will be fun. We can go find some sweet nice place out in the middle of nowhere and…”

Taking a grapefruit from the cart, Michael threw it at his head. “Don’t even think about it.” The man turned and smiled brightly. His pitch-black hair was longer than Michael remembered, but his eyes were the same. Those devilish-blue Armstrong eyes were still as playful as ever.

“Mikie!” he shouted, grabbing him into a tight hug. “How the hell have you been?”

“Mark, go home,” Michael said, annoyed. The tension building was already causing his neck to twitch. Mark was the family goofball. His carefree attitude irked everyone around him. The brothers would all love nothing more than to give Mark a little dose of reality. Mark cared for one thing…himself.

“Now, Mikie, is that anyway to talk in front of this heavenly lady?”

“Mark, please. You are already giving me a headache.”

“You should let Mattie take care of that. He is the doc.”

“I know he is a doctor!”

“No need for shouting big brother, just trying to help.”

“Go home. That will help.”

“Can’t.”

“Why the hell not?”

“’Cause, I flew all the way from Illinois to London to Texas to see this beautiful creature,” he said, turning his attention back to the young blonde behind the counter. She blushed as he stared at her.

Michael felt the tension in his neck tightening as his hand ran down his face. Taking a deep breath, he unloaded his cart and waited as the cashier rang everything up.

“Mikie, where’s the rest of the beer?”

“Three cases are enough, Mark.”

“Whatever!” he said. Turning to the young girl, he sweetly asked, “Honey, if you don’t mind, ring up another three cases while little Mikie goes and gets them. Would ya, darlin’?”

“I hope you brought your wallet, Mark.”

“You’re the salesman, Mikie. You can get this one. I’m a guest,” Mark said, taking four of the bags into his arms and heading outside.

Michael just stood there and grimaced. He handed the girl his card. “Just the three cases, only.”

“Sure thing, Mr. Armstrong.” She smiled.

* * * *

Michael arrived home to find a Harley Davidson parked in his drive. He took a deep breath and slowly let it out. Getting out of his truck, he started grabbing bags when Henry and Matthew walked out.

“Did you get the beer?” Matthew asked.

“Yes.”

“How many cases?”

“Three.”

“Three?”

“Yes! I got three,” Michael shouted at his brother. The slamming of the screen door caught his attention. There stood Marcus. Michael cursed under his breath and ignored him. This was turning out to be a nightmare from which he could not wake.

“We are going to need more than three, Michael,” Marcus said.

“Three is enough.”

“I can drink three all by myself. At home, I do it every weekend.”

“Then go back to Florida and drink!”

“Well how do you like that, Mattie? I drive all the way to help this ingrate, and he refuses his brother a measly little drink.”

“I ain’t refusing you anything.”

“Yes, you did, Mikie. I heard you. You refused Marcus,” Mark said, getting out of his car. “Mattie!” he yelled, seeing his older brother.

“How’s the Remington Ravens this year?” Matthew asked.

“Good.”

“Championships this year?”

“He better get’em there,” Marcus said, putting his two cents in.

“Better hell. He better hope his ass doesn’t get traded,” Michael insinuated.

“Mikie just likes the honeylicious cheerleaders,” Marcus grinned.

“Speaking of honeylicious, Mattie, oh my lord, Texas sure does know how to make ’em.”

“Make what?” Henry asked, wanting in on the conversation.

“Never you mind!” the three brothers shouted at the same time.

The brothers all grabbed a bag and headed into the house when they heard the Mustang come down the drive. Knowing who it was, they all grimaced and ignored him. The car came to a stop just as they walked into the house.

“I see how you all are, you assholes!” Mitchell yelled, slamming the door to his car. “Hey, Mikie, did you get any beer?”

* * * *

Rachael spent the next two days in bed, by order of Doctor Matthew Armstrong. He made damn sure she wouldn’t get out of bed either, commissioning Michael to sit outside her door in case she tried to escape. Though Michael didn’t mind, he would have rather been in the room with her instead of outside it.

By Wednesday, she was cleared and able to leave the house. She expected everything to be running as usual, but what she didn’t expect was to see was five men sitting at her kitchen table all staring at her, with Henry smiling and getting a cup of coffee.

There before her were the five Armstrong men.

Ranging in age, they couldn’t be but a couple of years apart. The likeness to Michael was uncanny. Along with Matthew, two of them who looked absolutely identical had blonde hair, and the other had black hair like Michael, but the one thing they all shared was their ice-blue eyes, and all of those eyes were on her.

Michael just shook his head as his brothers all gaped at her. Yes, she was something to see, Michael knew that, but what he didn’t like was the drooling dogs panting after her like she was dessert. He jumped up from the whole table so fast that his chair fell back against the floor. “I swear if any of you do anything!” he said before god and everyone.

“Shut up, Mikie! Introduce us, will ya?” Mark smiled at her.

“Oh yes, please!” Mitchell said, getting to his feet.

“I would sit down if I were you, Mitch,” Matthew quietly warned.

Rachael didn’t know what to make of them. They all just stared at her. She looked from brother to brother, finally looking at Michael. When he shrugged his shoulders and walked to the coffeepot with a loss of words, Rachael spoke.

“What the hell? There are more of you Armstrongs!” she shouted and walked back toward the stairs heading to her room.

“Should we tell her that’s one’s missing?” Henry said, but, quickly getting a sharp look from everyone, he shut his mouth.

“Well…that went swimmingly!” Mitch smiled.

“Swimmingly! Jesus, Mitch, you’re not in England anymore, use American words,” Mark said, hitting his brother.

“Would you two shut up? You’re giving me a headache. Why are they here anyway? Mom must be crazy sending the two Bobbsey twins,” Marcus complained.

“This wasn’t my idea,” Michael said, going find Rachael.

The brothers watched Michael leave the kitchen. As he walked upstairs, Mark was the first to talk. “So, there anything going on between him and that little angel?”

“Don’t even think about. My face still hurts from the beating he gave me,” Matthew said, rubbing his jaw.