When You Fall... (20 page)

“Hello, Rafael. Go in and see if your father has the key,” his mother said. She’d been standing in the yard, next to her car when he’d arrived just moments ago.
Where was she going this early?
he wondered.

“Go in and see if your father has the key to this car,” she repeated, louder this time. “He took the car last night.” He lifted his hand in greeting and went in search of his father, choosing not to talk to her.

“Dad,” he called out, as he entered the garage. No answer. He entered the house through the door that led to the kitchen. “Dad!” he called out again, louder this time.

He spied his father in the back yard, watering the grass. He kept his home in tip-top shape. It was his pride and joy, all his years of back-breaking work for a nice home, in which to raise five kids—all boys, all college graduates, all living close by, and taking care of themselves. The great American dream fully realized. He was proud of his accomplishments.

Rafael opened the back door and stepped outside. “Dad, Mom needs you in the front yard,” he said.

“Oh, hello Rafe. You’re early,” he said, turning off the water hose and smiling at his son.

“I knew you wanted to get started on the roof before it gets hot,” he said.

“Of course. Let me see what your mother wants,” he said. Rafael trailed behind him as they made their way out the front door and over to his mom. He stood at the front door and watched their exchange.

“You know I needed to leave early and I’m here waiting,” she said.

“What’s wrong?” his father asked.

“I can’t get this thing to work,” she said, holding out her hand. The car alarm lay in its palm.

“Here, take mine,” his father said, reaching into his pocket, holding it out to her. She took it from his hand, her movements sharp and impatient.

“Thank you, husband, for coming out to help me this morning,” Rafael said to his mother from his spot near the front door. He locked eyes with his mother, who ignored him and opened the car door.

Rafael turned away, went back inside and into the garage, not wanting to be a part of what he viewed as his mother’s constant mistreatment of his father. He exhaled slowly and looked around the garage, moving his mind to things that were in his control, like roofing.

She was nice to her children and not-so-nice to her husband. At least not as nice and he thought she should be towards a husband who worked as hard for his family as his father had. He had no idea why. It had started so long ago. He’d been too young to remember them any other way.

He heard the car leave and a few minutes later his dad appeared in the doorway.

“Ready?” his dad asked him, all smiles.

“How do you do it?” Rafael asked. He’d stopped what he was doing and looked at his father. “Why do you do it, Dad? Why do you put up with her?”

“She’s your mother. You will respect her. What’s between me and your mother will remain between us,” he said, dismissing the subject. Rafael had heard that sound of a steel door closing before and knew what it signified—a closed subject.

“Where do you want to start?” he asked.

“In the back.”

“Sounds good,” Rafael said, grabbing his tools and heading out the garage door.

#

Monday

Was nothing easy to do around here? She was feeling irritable today—the new property manager on her mind. Why not her?

She’d wanted to make herself a round pen, and she’d didn’t want to build a new one with wood; too expensive. She had a limited budget—okay, more like a zero budget. So in lieu of purchasing new fencing, she’d spent most of the morning digging through the old stable, the old shed, anyplace that might have material she could use to build a new pen. If she only had money, the world would be a much easier place to live, she thought.

She looked at the ground where four metal pipe panels lay, the sum total of her scavenger hunt this morning. She’d found them hidden in the back of the garage, the last place she’d searched.

She was itching to work with Grey, maybe even Augustus, now that he was returning to the land of the living. She wasn’t even sure what she’d teach them, but she wanted to try to teach them something. She’d located some of her old great-grandfather’s journals and books on horse husbandry and what little time she could find after working, she’d been reacquainting herself with the finer points of horse training.

She looked up and spotted Rafael walking across his yard towards his truck. She watched as he hopped in, pulled out of his drive and wave to her as he passed. She waved back. Maybe she should relax her one-time sex restriction.

She had a personal savings account—enough that using some for supplies wouldn’t kill her or break her bank, she thought, forcing her mind back to her current task and away from its new found desire for more sex with her neighbor. She could use her own money to build a round pen? Did it make sense too? She could fool herself some of the time, but this ranch would be sold and where would she be then? No job, no savings. Not a good place to start.

It would have been helpful to know if there was any extra cash available to make the needed repairs to this place. Where was that money coming from? Did the ranch have any money of its own? If not, who was going to foot the bill for the work to get this place in shape to sell? There had to be some income; she couldn’t imagine her dad paying for it. Nope, that wasn’t likely.

She could call and ask him. Her great-grandfather had negotiated a few oil leases in his day. Perhaps he’d put some money away. Who knew? Her father had taken over the financial as well as all other reins of this place after her great-grandfather’s death.

She could call, she thought again. She should call. Stand up to him. Talk it out with him man-to-man. Nope, she decided. It would only alert him to the fact that she had continued to work around here defying his wishes. Plus she hadn’t started any employment searches. Screw that, she wasn’t calling. She’d never fared well in conversation with him anyway.

She stood looking at her pile of pipe panels one last time before she went in search of her keys. A quick ride into town where she would stop by Charlie’s hardware to price the panels. Who knew, maybe they were cheaper than she’d thought. Maybe Charlie would make her a deal. Pleased with that plan, she grabbed her keys and purse and headed into town.

#

Carter sat on the back porch at dusk, enjoying the cool breeze; a welcome consequence of the thunderstorm that had blown in as she made it into town. The rain had finally moved off about an hour ago. Her trip was a success. The panels were being delivered tomorrow, and with a minimal disruption to her savings account.

She’d felt like celebrating. She’d poured herself a glass of wine, left over from her three amigos’ trip to visit her. She felt hopeful again, refusing to think about what was coming. She was going to build a round pen and spend some time working with Grey and Augustus. Life was good.

She watched Rafael pull into his yard, the forever-working-man. He stood watching her house for a minute after he’d gotten out of his truck. What was up with him?

Oh crap, Carter thought a minute later, when she saw him heading her way. She looked down at her clothing—shorts and a t-shirt for relaxing, not for entertaining. Should she change? Too late. He was jogging across the road, had hopped her fence and was moving closer to her back door. She stayed put, kicked off her flip-flops and put her feet up on the table. She took another sip from her glass and breathed.

“So, if it isn’t Rafael, the hardest working farmer south of the Pecos,” she said when he reached her back door.

He didn’t respond, just opened the door leading into the screened-in porch and entered, looking pointedly at the wine bottle on the table and the wine glass in her hand.

“Getting drunk?”

“No.”

“Then what?” he asked, taking a seat on the couch beside her, propping up his boots along side her feet.

“I’m relaxing. I know, a new word for you, but we mortals have to take a break now and then.”

“So that’s what laying around on your butt is called these days,” he said, taking her wine glass from her hand. He took a sip. “Your place looks good. You should be proud of yourself. I can see its potential,” he said, changing the subject.

She didn’t say anything for a while. He didn’t either; just continued to sip her wine.

“It would be the most popular place around here if I had control. I would turn this house into a bed and breakfast. Add on a few rooms. Hell, maybe even remodel all of it. Find a chef to cook. Turn the living room into a small exclusive restaurant. Five-star food with five-star accommodations,” she said, eyes closed to imagine the perfect scene.

“You dream big,” he said, taking another sip of wine, all relaxed. He hadn’t given her the glass back.

“Why not? I’d rescue as many horses as I could find, re-do the old stable and fill it with them. You know the big stable, the one that is about to fall down at any minute? That used to hold 35 horses,” she said, looking at him. He nodded.

“People would come from miles around to learn how to train their horses. Or I could board them and train them myself.”

“Impressive,” he said.

“Once I’d been at it for a while, I might build a larger mini hotel, so families could spend a week, working on the ranch, taking a break from the hustle and bustle of life. How’s that for dreaming big?” she asked, taking her empty wine glass from his hand.

“It is do-able. It would take major commitment, money, time and hard work,” he said.

“It’s a dream,” she said.

“It doesn’t have to be.”

“Right,” she said. He let it go.

“I still think you should talk to your sisters and your father about letting you take over. What could it hurt?”

She was quiet. “So how was your day?” she asked.

“The usual.”

“You work harder than any person I know,” she said, catching his gaze as it moved over her body. His eyes settled on hers and the mood in the room changed. His gaze was fixed on hers as he reached for her hand, pulling her up to her feet and over to stand before him. He pulled her again toward him. She landed in his lap. He didn’t say anything, just leaned in and kissed her.

“Friends,” she said, after he pulled back and sat looking at her.

“Good friends,” he replied, his mouth now on her neck, kissing her.

“Okay,” she said, surrendering and met his mouth when it reached hers again.

He moved his hands under her shirt and up to capture her breasts, one in each hand. She moaned at the tug he gave to each of them. She removed her shirt, then unhooked her bra and tossed it aside.

“And I thought I was quick,” he murmured, staring at her, intense and suddenly serious. He moved in to capture her breasts, this time with his mouth, his hand sliding around her back, softly, to hold her still as he made love to each one in turn.

“You feel good,” he whispered, pulling back, moving along her neck now. He kissed her hard when he reached her lips.

“Rafael,” she moaned, her hands in his hair, amazed at the silkiness of it.

He pulled back and met her eyes. “Meaningless sex again, right?” he said, moving back to her breasts as he spoke.

“Don’t be hating on the meaningless sex,” she whispered, her grip on his head tighter. She felt him chuckle against her skin.

He moved back to her mouth and kissed her, moving his hand to the juncture of her thighs. He moved her shorts and underwear over to the side and started doing something to her with his hands. She moaned in response.

“I have a condom,” he said, his mouth against hers, his tongue soft and smooth, “In my wallet, in my back pocket,” he said, against her lips. She reached back, found it, and without breaking their kiss, gave it to him.

He pulled it free and laid his wallet down, pushing her a little ways off his lap. He unzipped his jeans and sheathed himself. She looked down between them and sighed, running her hand along him again. “I remember this,” she said, and moved her mouth back to his.

He lifted her, shorts still on, pulled off to the side as much as he could, and placed her slowly on him. He drew in a sharp breath at the rightness of this moment. His hands went to her butt, and then her hips. His hands and fingers were large enough to hold her all. He leaned his body forward, and placed her legs behind his back and gazed at her intensely as he began to move her.

His hands went back to their favorite spot on her ass, where he gripped her hips and using a rocking motion—no, it was more of a rolling motion—he swung her hips upward, sliding along his length, a smooth glide over and up to the tip of him. He moaned and then swung her hips downward to take him in. He moaned again and entered her slowly, sucked in air and rolled her hips upward, back to the tip of him again, held her there for a second, and then downward again pulling him into her body, the part that was elated at this contact between them. “Oh…” he said, at being inside of her now, again, at the shear perfection of this moment.

He groaned at how good she felt, surrounding him, the way she’d felt the other night—this nice, wet, secure fit—and he moved her again with that nice, slow roll, or swing of her hips. He continued, moving her up and then down, again, up and then back down. He groaned, and placed his head into her neck, moving her again and again, sometimes rotating her hips just at the tip of him, in a small tight circle, before pulling her down over him, sucking him in… all soft, wet… sweetness. God she felt perfect, he thought, when he could think.

Then he was back to the rolling of her against him, riding up and down along his length, all controlled by him, with as much or as little force as he could stand. God this felt good, all snuggled up tight within the tight confines of her. He closed his eyes and gave in to the pleasure of being with her.

“Rafael,” he heard her say more than once, but he was used to hearing his name fall from women’s lips, although hers sounded more like a prayer.

Up and down was this slide of her hips over him, taking him into her body, and then almost out. Forward and then back… down, up and then down, until he couldn’t prolong it any more and moved her faster. Her breath a pant in his ear, and his in hers, matching pants and Oh God, he came, harder than he had a right to. He held her tightly, arms around her back now, wrapping her up tight as he pushed her down hard into his lap to bind her to him as he came and she with him, calling out his name.