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Ranger

I SHOULD BE ASHAMED, the fucking thoughts that are running through my head. But God forgive me, I’m not.

Images of what’s under that dress...the way her cunt would smell as I bury my tongue inside her plague me like no desire I’ve ever had before.

My dick is as hard as an iron fence post as I stomp down the dirt path where I last saw her, feeling like some kind of hunter after his prey. She’s been gone too long, and fucking hell if I didn’t jump at the chance of chasing her down.

We got the little city-trailer loaded, but no way was it anywhere near big enough for the number of bales her dad ordered. So I convinced him to go ahead and take that load home, told him I’d go find his daughter while he was gone.

Maria.

Shit, I nearly came right there and then when he told me her name. I told him I’d track her down and keep her safe, take her to see a couple of my newest rescue quarter horses. Let her help me pull them in from the big pasture, put them in the barn to get them ready for some work this afternoon.

He seemed to like that idea a lot. Said she’s not been too keen on this new country life of theirs, and he’d love if I would talk to her about what I do here. He even said maybe I could convince her to learn a thing or two about horses and riding, which I’d be more than happy to do. Anything that gets her close to me is a win. Even hinted at maybe me showing her around town. Introducing her to some friends more her age.

Fuck. I’ll show her around town. But hell if I’m introducing what’s mine to anyone else. At least, not until I’ve had my fill of her and—I can’t believe I’m thinking this—until I get my ring on that tiny, beautiful third finger on her left hand.

Did I just think that? I’ve never even imagined myself that way. Married and with a family...now in the space of less than a couple hours, in my mind, I’ve got a ring on her finger and my baby in her belly. This is one hell of a hay pickup.

But now, the sky over the back hayfield is turning near black. It’ll do that out here, turn from sun to storms on a dime. And she’s wandered off, and I can’t lay eyes on her

I walk to the pond, even walk around it, making sure I don’t see her in there or any signs that she slipped.

Then I start to walk faster, because she isn’t there. I break into a slow jog as I head back toward where the path goes around to the turkey and chicken pens. My steps pound on the dirt because I still don’t see any sign of her. I can’t fucking believe how worked up I’m getting that something could have happened to her, but my heart is going to explode.

It only took a glimpse, a couple words, and my heart leapt into my throat because of this beauty, and now I’m scared I might lose her. In my mind, I can see that dark hair, those fucking eyes.

Her small frame with all it’s softness calls for my hands. I imagine scooping her up and carrying her everywhere. Especially to my bedroom where I would spend hours with my face between her legs.

I stop in my tracks between the fence lines of the turkey pen and the chicken coop.

“What the fuck? How did you guys get out here?”

My three prize turkeys are pecking the ground, the gate to their pen open and swinging loose. They ignore me, of course, but they can be vicious little bastards if they don’t know you. Mean as the day is long. Most folks don’t even realize.

I snatch my hat off my head and kick the dirt at one, then flap my arms toward the other two, making them scurry off down the path. Not back to their pen, oh no. They each head off in a different direction. But right now, I’m far less concerned about where they will end up than I am about finding her.

I look at the sandy path and half run back toward where it split off from the pond before following it back, looking for her footprints. I muse that her feet must be tiny like her, and sure enough, I see what must be her little sneaker prints in the dirt. My boot prints are over some of them, but they lead back toward the pens. So I’m on the hunt, following her footprints until they seem to go wacky. Back and forth. Then I see the turkey prints around, and I know what the hell happened.

“Fuck.” I’ve got my pocketknife out in a heartbeat as I see the latch from the chicken coop door laying in the dirt. I’m at a dead run when I hit the door, slamming it with my fists. “Maria!”

“Get me out! Please!” Her voice is soft, feminine, and stressed.

“One sec, sweetheart.”

I wiggle my knife into the lock mechanism and pop it back.

The door swings open, and there she is.

“Goddamn it,” I grunt, stepping forward and crouching down.

“Thanks. I tried to hide from those...birds... They were... And the stupid latch...knob thingy—”

Her face is red. Sweat is running down her nose.

“Come here.” I scoop her up without a word. She’s hot to the touch. Too hot. I need to get her cooled off fast.

“Hey, I can walk. I’m okay,” she mumbles but her words are soft, and I don’t shift to set her down.

Thunder rumbles behind us. I knew this was coming. The wind picks up, stronger than it would be if this were just a storm. There’s a change in the air. Not just temperature, but something a farmer feels. A change in pressure. My hackles are up.

“We need to get back to the house.”

“Put me down. I’m fine.” She struggles against my arms, but I only pull her in tighter as I swivel on my toes and start jogging back to the house.

As I turn, I catch sight of the clouds, blackening over the top field. All goes silent as the combine shuts down, and I know the crew has seen what I’ve seen. A few seconds later, when I’m running past the barn, they’re already thundering in the direction of the north bunkhouse in the two pickups they use, headed for the safety of the office, their quarters, and a storm shelter.

They churn by, throwing dust and dirt into the wind, now starting to swirl violently.

“Hold on,” I say, growling as I clutch her tighter into me and push my legs to move faster.

“What’s going on? Where’s my dad?”

I don’t have the breath to answer her because my single focus is on getting us to the house and into the basement. I hear the churning start, far in the distance behind us, and it’s a sound I know too well. There’s nothing like it, and the rain starts in a deluge as I hit the lawn and get us onto the porch, struggling to fill my lungs.

I set her down, reaching to grab her hand. She tries to jerk it away, but I’ve got her and I’m not letting go.

“What is going on?” Her face pinches tight, determined to stare me down, but there’s no time to stand here and explain.

“Come on.” I pull her in through the front door, footsteps clattering on the wooden floorboards of the hall, dragging her with me, and kick open the door to the cellar.

“Hey, I’m not going down there with you!” She pulls back, confusion in her eyes, but there’s no time to explain.

“Yes, you are.” I reach out and grab her around her waist. My hands go nearly fully around as I pick her up and half carry her down the steps.

She’s squirming and carrying on like a mad cat when I get us to the bottom of the steps. It’s a good twenty degrees cooler in this stone foundation basement, but I reach around to my back pocket and pull out my handkerchief and start wiping her face.

“Stop it!” She tries to bat my hand away, but it only makes me smile.

“You’re fucking cute, you know that?” My cock is throbbing now. Every breath she takes, every part of her my eyes get to feast on, only sends more blood pumping into my already rock-hard cock.

“Where is my dad?” She sets her fists into her hips. “And what is that noise?”

Her determination turns to confusion as the distant sound of a freight train rumbles from above.

I stuff the white handkerchief back down into my pocket and use my fingers to straighten her disheveled hair. Her eyes are on fire, but her lips are full, pink, and ready to be kissed.

“First, your dad brought that little city trailer. I loaded as much as I could, but he needed to make two trips. So I told him I’d come find you, take you out to the stables to show you my horses, and he could take one load back home then come back for another. Second, that sound—” I twist my head to look up at the ceiling, then back at her “—is a tornado. So all your fussing and cussing, wondering what I was doing? Saving your cute ass, sweetheart.”

“Cute ass? Sweetheart? I don’t even know your name. You know mine. Thanks to my dad, I’m sure, but that’s all you know about me.” She snaps but stands her ground, keeping her eyes attached to mine with those flames flickering there. “Wait, did you say tornado?” Suddenly, her eyes widen.

I take a good look at her, up and down. Then again.

Once more.

I know a lot about you. And I’m about to know a lot more. Like how your pussy tastes.

This silence between us only fuels my need.

“I’m Ranger Stoddard. And yes, Little Bit, tornado. But I’ll keep you safe. You can bank on that.”

She does this cute as hell head-toss-eye-roll combo, and my knees almost give out.

The hint of fear in her face drains away, making me smile. “That name sounds like a sheriff in an old spaghetti Western.”

“Well, my dad would thank you if he were still here with us. That’s exactly what he was going for. Had a penchant for the romance of the Old West and the solid character of an old-time sheriff.”

She rolls her eyes again. “You really are a cowboy.”

I nod and grin as she tries to fight a half smile pulling at her lips. My heart is thundering in my chest as loud as the thunder from the storm.

The churning outside grows louder, and her eyes go to moons again.

“Holy cow.” She leans closer, and I sweep an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into me. Even in the dim light of the cellar, she is the most stunning woman I’ve ever seen. She smells like honey and hope. And hope is something I didn’t even realize I’ve been missing.

Now, I’m full of it. Full of hope for the future. For something more. Something different. Something named Maria.

The noise of the storm above tells me it’s close, but it’s not going right over us. Even though a tornado can turn on a dime, out here, I’ve become well-versed in the sounds of storms. It may not be passing right over us, but it still has the potential to do damage. Could touch down farther on than my place, and then again, it could be over in a blink. I’m calm enough, I’ve had my share of these out here, but I’m all too aware of the threat of something so powerful.

Every part of me wants to push her into the wall and take her right here. All the years of having no one in my life come crashing down around me. I’m starved. And she’s the sustenance I’ve been craving all this time.

I want to hear her call my name when she comes. I want her fingernails scoring my flesh as I push inside her. I want to feel the walls of her hot pussy pulse around me and drench my cock with her juices as her orgasm forces her eyes to roll back. I want her to forget everything about this world and know only pleasure. Pleasure that comes from me.

“Sounds like it’s passing.” I feel her body soften as she leans slightly into me. How she’s trusting me in this moment means more to me than anything I can think of. I let out a long, low breath. “Sure glad I put all the horses out in the big pasture.”

She looks up at me. “Wouldn’t they be safer in the barn?”

“Oh no. Horses have instincts, they know where to run. If they are stuck in the barn, their fear takes hold. Their flight instinct is held back, and they panic. Hurt themselves worse trying to get out than they would outside where they can get away. They’re my family. I’d do most anything to protect them.”

Just like I would you.

I clear my throat, trying to stay steady. I can feel her against me, completing me and tearing me apart at the same time. This little speck of a girl whom I’ve known for all of an hour has my heart racing and dreams of forever shooting through my mind.

The roar above us softens as we stand. Thunder crashes, and I can hear the torrents of rain hitting the sides of the house as it settles into an almighty, but reasonably harmless, storm.

And with the danger passed, my mind goes to her father. From the looks of the storm when I was heading to the house, it was moving off east, and their place is over to the west, so I’m optimistic he made it back okay. But I still want to check.

“Your dad have a cell?” I reach into my back pocket and pull out my phone, checking the screen. I have signal, but that’s no guarantee that he does as well.

Her breathing has calmed, and her voice is soft when she replies, “Yeah. It’s 972-555-9999.”

I dial the number with my thumb, holding the phone in one hand, unwilling to detach her from my side. She feels too right, pressed against me. Like she’s always been there, and that’s where she belongs.

There’s a pause after I dial the number, and I wonder whether it’s going to connect. But it starts ringing a moment later, and he answers on the second ring. Sounds a little out of breath, but not hurt. “Mr. McGowan? It’s Ranger. You okay?”

He goes on for a minute about seeing the storm, feeling the wind buffeting the truck like it was a toy car, but he was headed in the opposite direction to the way it went and got home okay. I assure him I have Maria safe here with me, both of us doing just fine.

But I’m more than just fine.

I am alive, for the first time in so long. I can feel the current of heat and lust zipping up and down the side of my body where I’m holding her in close.

“Yup. I’ve got her here, safe and sound, as long as you need. Keep an eye on the weather before you try to head back.”

With that, he clicks off, and I look down to see Maria’s smile.

“Maybe I wanted to talk to him. You think of that, cowboy?”

“Maybe. But I handled it. That’s what I do. I handle things.”

Stuffing the phone into my back pocket, I exchange my protective arm around her body for holding her hand again. The cellar is safe, but it’s not the prettiest part of my house. And she deserves to be kissed in someplace nicer than this now that the danger is over.

And if one thing in this world is absolutely certain, it’s that she is about to be kissed.