Molding Clay

Rusty cursed as the fire truck pulled away, leaving the home she’d lived in for most of her life a wet mess with half of it gutted and the other half covered in wet grime from the smoke. Her luck had turned from bad to worse. Two years ago, she’d gone on a bender and ended up in a cheap motel with Danny Stikeleather, a local high-school quarterback hero whose glory days ended with high school. Six weeks later she realized she was pregnant. Her first thought was to dig out one of her mama’s special recipes and cook up a brew to rid herself of the child. But killing wasn’t in her, so she’d allowed Danny to talk her into getting married for the sake of the child.

She knew when she married him that his promises to be a better man were probably as valid as a four-dollar bill, but she never expected him to turn into a drunk. Inside of six months, he’d not only lost his job but had lost himself in a bottle and beaten her with a shovel badly enough that she lost the child. While she was in the hospital, he got drunk and ran his truck down the side of a mountain, killing himself and leaving her to discover that he had no life insurance and a mountain of debt.

Danny’s family had tried to swoop in and take control, browbeating her since the day Danny died, to hook up with Danny’s older brother Dennis so the family could look after her and Blackhawk Farm.

That wasn’t going to happen. Rusty had never been keen on Danny’s family and sure as heck had no intention of hooking up with another one of them. One Stikeleather per lifetime was enough. She knew all they really wanted was to get her married to Dennis so they could sell her land out from under her and take whatever money came from it.

That also was not going to happen. No matter how much they pestered her she wouldn’t give in. She’d finally filed a complaint with the sheriff and asked for a restraining warrant to keep them off her land.

That only made things worse. Now the whole family was gunning for her and doing everything they could to make her life miserable.

It hadn’t been easy. She’d tried to keep up, to pay off the debt, to keep her head above water, but there was only so much one woman could do. And truth be told, she’d let some things slide in order to hang onto what was more important than a good credit rating or even a roof over her head. Namely, her horses.

Rusty had inherited the land she stood on and ten good stock horses when her mother died ten years ago. Today she still had the land and had increased her herd to thirty-five, but it looked like that would change shortly.

The previous year, a cousin several times removed came to the Carolinas and was introduced to Rusty. Ana Stillwater-Hawks. Ana now raised horses with her husband, Chase, whose family owned a big spread, the Circle R, in Arizona. Thanks to Ana, the Circle R had offered to go into partnership with Rusty. In exchange for paying up all of the outstanding debts, they would own half of the stock, and she’d work for them as head breeder and trainer. All she had to do was agree to put up with one of the Circle R men riding roughshod over her while she did her job, and the Circle R would foot all the bills. And she would keep her land. The deal did not call for her to share ownership of the land, only the assets. It was a five-year contract that was renewable at the end of the term if both parties agreed.

Rusty was both elated and sad at the prospect. She needed the money to settle all the debt Danny left her with, but having a stranger take up residence on her land and call the shots was a bitter pill to swallow. But she figured she could live with a goat for five years if it got her out of debt.

It would be good to have a steady income and Rusty planned on squirreling away every dime she could. That way at the end of the contract she could decline to continue the relationship and go back to her life on her own.

Ana had promised to visit in the spring. Seeing Ana again would be a treat. Rusty had discovered during their first meeting that they shared much more than common ancestry.

Ana’s grandfather was the brother of Rusty’s grandmother. Rusty had never heard of Ana. Probably because Rusty’s grandmother had left the mountains of North Carolina and moved to the Carpathian Mountains near Hungary with her husband—his father’s people had settled there generations ago when they left their homeland in Punjab, part of the displaced nation of the Romani people.

Rusty’s mother, Mary Puxon, was born in the Carpathian Mountains and grew up there. At the age of eighteen her parents sent her to the United States so that she could see the land of her mother’s birth. While on that trip, Mary met Russell Blackhawk, a native Cherokee man. They married before her trip ended and she moved to Russell’s home in North Carolina. They had five happy years. Three months before their daughter was born, Russell died, thrown from a horse he was breaking. Mary was devastated by the death of her husband. She named her daughter after her dead husband and did her best to raise Rusty and give her a good life.

Rusty was grateful for all her mother had taught her, and the love she’d given her. Mary was a seventh generation witch, what popular fiction of the current day liked to refer to as a white-lighter. She’d taught all she knew to Rusty, along with a strong warning never to use the Craft for ill-will or it would be revisited on her three-fold.

Rusty had tried to live by that rule, and not only did she rarely use her power, she kept it a secret. Danny, her husband, had never suspected. Everyone knew that Rusty’s mom was a witch, but never thought that Rusty had followed in Mary’s footsteps. It might have had something to do with the fact that Rusty was always outdoors with the boys, running and riding and getting into as much mischief as any boy around.

Ana had recognized it right away, and Rusty was secretly thrilled to have not only discovered new family, but someone who could understand things a non-witch would never comprehend.

Rusty turned and looked at the sad state of her home. No use crying over spilled milk, her mother would have said. Koda, the grey wolf breed who was her familiar and closest friend, wandered over and leaned his head against the side of her hip.

“Yeah, I know, look on the bright side. Only half if it’s gone,” she said with a rueful smile as she rubbed his broad brow. “Well, daylight’s wasting, and those horses aren’t gonna feed themselves.”

* * * * *

Clay was swallowing the last of the cold sweet tea in his glass when his cell phone rang. He looked at the display and grinned as he answered.

“You calling to tell me you’re ready to shuck Chase and hook up with a younger, better looking and much more intelligent brother?”

Ana laughed at the question. “Well hell, Clay, you know I like old broke-in cowboys a sight more than young feisty ones.”

Clay laughed as he heard his older brother, Chase in the background yelling, “Old broke-in? You get your sweet little butt over here on this couch and I’ll show you old.”

“Woo hoo!” Ana replied then addressed Clay. “Well, I guess I’m gonna make this short since I’m about to get lucky. I wanted to see how close you are to Rusty’s place.”

Clay heard Chase laugh and wondered what was so funny about him having driven for the last two days.

“I think I’m gonna find a place to sleep and finish out the drive in the morning.”

“But it’s only six!” Ana protested. “And Clara told Rusty that you’d be there tonight at the latest.”

“So call him up and tell him I’ll be there tomorrow.”

“Fine,” Ana sounded miffed. “But call me the minute you get there.”

“Yes ma’am,” Clay replied.

“You promise?”

“Scout’s honor.”

“Well that means diddly but I’m holding you to it and if you don’t I’ll…I’ll—”

“Cast a spell and give him a case of jock itch!” Chase yelled in the background.

“Now that’s just mean,” Clay said with a laugh. “I’ll call you. Have a good night, Ana.”

“You too. I love you,” she said before she hung up.

Clay closed the phone and returned it to the case clipped on his belt. Ana and Chase had been acting awfully peculiar about this deal with the Blackhawk fellow. Even Clay’s father Charlie was being close-mouthed about the guy.

Clay still wasn’t sure why he’d gotten elected to take on the running of the Blackhawk operation. He was more interested in riding bulls than breeding horses at the moment. This year he figured he’d qualify for the nationals.

But a man had to make a living and since he’d graduated with a master’s degree in animal husbandry five years ago, he’d been working to build up a reputation. Today the Circle R boasted the finest stock horses in the country. As far as Clay was concerned they were doing just fine, with no need to take on a small operation like Blackhawk’s.

But Charlie was adamant. Actually, Clay was convinced that Charlie was standing firm on it because of Ana and Clara. Apparently this Blackhawk fellow was a distant relative of Ana’s she’d discovered last year when she and Chase took a trip to the Carolinas to visit the place where Ana’s grandfather had lived.

After they returned, Ana and Clara went to work selling Chase and Charlie on the idea. In the past Charlie wouldn’t have let anyone talk him into doing anything he didn’t want to do. But now things were different.

After nearly losing Clara to the maniac ex-husband Ana had run away from when Ana first arrived in Arizona six years ago, Charlie had realized how much he loved the woman. It took him three years to convince her to marry him, but she’d finally said yes, and Charlie wasn’t about to upset the apple cart by denying her something she obviously wanted so badly.

All Clay could figure was that Ana wanted to help her cousin or whatever Blackhawk was to her. And since Ana and Clara were now thick as thieves, the men of the Circle R didn’t stand a chance against them.

So here he was, headed for the Blackhawk place with orders to get it up and running and making money as fast as possible. While Clay might have been a little annoyed to be the one to inherit the job, he was also secretly a little pleased that his father trusted him to oversee things. And he was determined to make it a success.

How he’d get along with Blackhawk was a mystery. All he’d heard about the man was that when it came to training horses there wasn’t anyone who could touch him. And apparently he’d trained the last three years champion barrel racers and their horses. That was something Clay had to admire.

Whether that admiration would lead to congenial working relations was anyone’s guess, but that question would be answered soon enough and right now all Clay wanted was to get a shower, stretch his legs and relax. Tomorrow was soon enough to face the mystery of Rusty Blackhawk.

Rusty turned to her wolf, Koda, as she parked her old truck in the graveled parking lot of Bill’s Bar, beside a shiny new Dodge Ram double cab. “Somebody hit the lottery?” she asked Koda, who sat on the other side of the seat, his head hanging out of the window.

He yipped a reply and she laughed. If someone had just hit it rich then maybe they’d be feeling generous and buy her a beer. As it stood, she had enough for one beer and a salad. And a steak for Koda. After that she was broke.

A mild wave of panic gripped her. The man from the Circle R had not shown up. If they decided to back out, she was in real trouble. She’d already talked to the folks at the local branch bank about getting a loan and had been politely but firmly turned down.

With a determined jut of her chin, she pushed the anxiety aside. It was all going to work out. She just had to believe that. “Be back in a little while,” she said to Koda before getting out of the truck.

A wave of noise, sweat, smoke and grilling meat hit her when she pulled open the door of the bar. She’d no sooner stepped inside when a loud voice erupted from behind the bar. “Well kiss my grits! I ain’t seen you in a coon’s age, gal. Where the hell you been?”

Rusty grinned and walked over to the bar. The bartender and owner, Wes Nash, came out from behind the bar, wrapped his arms around her and lifted her up in a hug. “You’re a welcome sight for sore eyes, darlin’. How you doing, baby?”

“Right now, struggling to breathe,” she laughed and hugged him back. “How you doing Wes? Mary’s ‘bout due now, isn’t she?”

“Two more weeks, according to the doctors,” Wes replied as he put her down and started walking behind the bar. “’Course that’s what they said two weeks ago, so what the hell do they know?”

“She’ll come when she’s ready,” Rusty replied and then froze when Wes jerked to a halt with wide eyes.

“She?” he yelled, then grinned, slapped his hands together, gave a whoop and made a shouted announcement to the bar at large. “You hear that, ya’ll? I’m finally gonna get me a little girl!”

Cheers broke out over Wes’s proclamation. “Beer’s on the house ya’ll!”

“Hey, hold on!” Rusty shouted to be heard over the din of the crowd as a couple of guys made room for her at the bar. “Wes, hey, Wes!”

He was paying no attention. He was too busy at the tap, filling beer glasses and going on over how long he and Mary had wanted to have a little girl. Six boys and they were starting to think they were never going to have that little girl. But now that Rusty had said “she” he was a happy man because he was going to be the daddy of a baby girl.

Rusty shook her head and accepted the mug of beer he offered. She lifted it in a toast and he reached out with both hands, grabbed her long hair on either side of her head and pulled her halfway across the bar to plant a noisy kiss on her mouth.

That brought another round of cheers, hoots and hollers and the energy in the bar cranked up several notches. Rusty laughed and took a long pull from the mug. It was good to be surrounded by such positive energy. Even if she was going to walk out of there poor as a church mouse, this moment was worth it.

From across the bar, the big man at the table alone watched the dark-haired beauty. Christ on a crutch. His dick had surged to life the moment she walked into the bar. At best estimate she wasn’t much over five feet tall, but was built like something out of a midnight fantasy. The worn tight jeans she wore had holes at the knees and along the side of the left back pocket, exposing a silver-dollar patch of creamy skin.

The t-shirt stretched across her chest sported faded words that read “redneck gals like it rowdy”. He’d sure like to show her some rowdy redneck sex. Just thinking about it made his balls tingle. Suddenly he was glad he’d decided to hang around a bit after he’d eaten. The night ahead was looking better every moment.

He waited and watched. At the moment the woman was surrounded by people, mostly men, drinking and laughing like she was one of the boys. He recognized the lack of sexual chemistry between her and any of the men. No, she wasn’t about to hook up with any of the fellows at the bar. What he saw happening was friendship. Old, solid and familiar.

Which worked out just fine for him. A few drinks, some good-old-boy charm and he wouldn’t be spending the night alone.

Rusty clapped Jesse Whitestone on the shoulder and wished him well, then finished her beer and turned to look for an empty booth or table. Three beers on an empty stomach had her feeling a little high and she wanted a quiet spot to sit and eat. As her eyes passed over the bar they jerked to an abrupt halt.

Great googly moogly! Her nipples tightened as her eyes latched onto those of the man sitting at a table alone. Hey baby, her female parts screamed. What her mother would have called a “long drink of cool water” stared back at her. Intense hazel eyes beneath elegant thick brows set into a face that belonged in a dream. A very sexy, hot, long dream.

Rusty didn’t realize how intently she was staring at the man until she became aware that the only sound she could hear was the rapid beat of her own heart. She snapped to and forced herself to break the electric contact with his eyes.

Whew! Get a grip, she told herself. Remember what happened the last time you got drunk and rowdy.

That thought alone was enough to snap her back to sobriety. With a quick farewell to Wes and friends at the bar, she hurried outside to her truck. Koda cocked his head curiously as she climbed in, gripped the steering wheel and lowered her forehead down on it. Her body was still humming from her attraction to the stranger in the bar. The unfulfilled sexual side of her nature was screaming for her to turn around and go back in and see what might happen. The rational side of her was trying hard to remind her that the last time she’d allowed herself to act on lust she’d regretted it. Not that she feared getting pregnant again. She’d armed herself with a prescription for a “morning-after pill” just in case she ever found herself needing it. So far, she hadn’t had to worry about it because sex had become nothing more than a memory.

“I almost screwed up,” she said when she raised her head.

Koda yapped several short barks and she cut her eyes at him as she started the truck. “I said almost. Don’t worry I haven’t forgotten. And yes, I do still owe you a steak. We’ll stop at the store on the way home.”

Wondering if she had just saved herself a mess of trouble, or walked out on what could have been one rollicking good time, she pulled out of the parking lot.

* * * * *

Rusty was normally up with the roosters, but as it turned out, she hadn’t fallen asleep until after dawn. She and Koda had stopped at the store on her way home from Bill’s Bar. She’d spent her last dollar on beef for Koda and a six-pack for herself.

After polishing off the six-pack and heaving it back up, she’d been unable to sleep. The fellow from the Circle R had not shown up yesterday, not to mention that sleeping in the bunkhouse was not nearly as much fun as she remembered it being in her youth. The floor would be as comfortable as the thin mattresses on the bunk beds. And thoughts of the stranger in the bar had her uncomfortably horny.

She hated she’d had to have her cell phone turned off. If she still had it she’d call Ana and see if the Russell family had changed their minds.

Koda yipped at her and she rolled her eyes. “I am not wishing the deal would fall through.” She looked away from his gaze and continued. “Okay, maybe a little, but a deal’s a deal and I’ll stick to my end of it.”

Unable to resist teasing, she added, “You just better hope that fella doesn’t show up here with a yapping toy poodle that thinks it should rule the roost.”

Koda gave her the canine equivalent of a laugh, showing his impressive teeth. Rusty laughed right along with him. Koda was a bit on the intimidating side to say the least. Having inherited the grey coloring of the wolf bitch that birthed him, and the coloring of the white wolf that sired him, along with nearly colorless blue eyes, he had little trouble commanding respect.

“Okay, day’s a wastin’,” Rusty said as she climbed to her feet and snatched up her jeans and boots.

She dressed and went outside. Since the house was unlivable and roped off until the arson investigators finished going through it, and the insurance people had showed up to give her the bad news on what they would and would not cover, the only shower available came in the form of the hose attached to the spigot on the well house. The shower in the bunkhouse had been broken for more than a year. Since she hadn’t been able to afford help the last couple of years, there wasn’t any reason to fix it.

Rusty fetched her small portable radio, along with soap and shampoo from the barn, and tuned the radio to a country station. Koda whined as she cranked the volume up and sang along as she wet herself down and started to soap up.

* * * * *

Clay swallowed the last of his take-out coffee as he drove down the long wooded drive that led into the Blackhawk place. He had to admit it was a nice spread. The pastures were green and lush, and towering hardwoods and pines lined the drive. From what he’s seen so far of the area, it wasn’t bad at all. If there were bars and women nearby, he’d do just fine.

In the years since he’d graduated, Clay had filled out and toughened up. He’d also gone through some changes. He still loved to party, and riding bulls was right up there near the top of his list of favorite things. Right under sex. But now for the first time in his life he could be content spending an evening sitting under the stars and letting his mind roam.

He and his twin brother Cole had parted company for the first time in their lives upon graduation. Cole took a position with the forestry department of the state of Arizona, and spent most of his time in the national forests. It suited Cole to live a solitary life, but not Clay. He was a social animal. An occasional night of solitude was fine, but he had no taste for it on a regular basis.

And thanks to Ana and the way she’d nagged him about being in better shape, the last five years had transformed his long lanky body into rock-hard muscle. He said a silent thanks to Ana every time a filly looked his way and gave him an admiring glance.

Now he understood a little more about his older brother, Chase. Chase had been a lady magnet as long as Clay could remember. His Native American coloring, dark eyes and long hair had swooned half the state of Arizona before Chase met Ana Stillwater. And until that point Chase had been content to be a man with a steady stream of women, none of whom meant more than a few weeks of good times and hot sex.

That’s where Clay found himself now. Not that he’d been a priest in his college days. He’d roped his fair share of fillies then, but the years since had been particularly favorable.

Just thinking about the last luscious lady he’d shared his bed with brought a grin to his face. Yep, he’d follow in brother Chase’s footsteps. Play the field, enjoy life and all the bounty it had to offer and wait until the right woman came along. Which he was not in any hurry for.

What he was in a hurry for was to take a ride back to that bar and see if the dark-haired beauty showed up again. He’d developed a real itch for her that not even the night with a luscious redhead could cure. Sure as shit, he was going to find that woman and bed her.

A sudden sharp curve in the drive had him slowing. When he rounded the curve, he spotted the barn. He didn’t see anyone around so he parked and got out of his truck to go in search of Blackhawk.

He had no more turned down the side of the barn when an unexpected treat met his eyes. Standing with a garden hose held above her head, the very shapely, very naked dark-haired woman from the bar stood near the water trough, singing along with a radio as she combed her fingers through her hair.

Clay stopped and admired the view. Whoever she was, she had just upped the idea of being on the Blackhawk spread several notches. Her hair was dark and thick, nearly to her waist. Her breasts were high and full, her stomach flat and her ass a work of art.

Then Clay saw the animal. Alert and definitely not happy due to the snarl on its face and the laid-back ears. Until now, his brother Chase had the biggest dog Clay had ever seen, but this big fella made Chase’s dog Cody look like a lightweight. The animal had to weigh in at over a hundred pounds. His broad head was even with the woman’s ribcage.

Clearly this dog or wolf or whatever breed it was, wasn’t about to let him get any closer to the woman, so Clay did the smart thing. He stopped and stood still. He sure didn’t find it a hardship to stand there and watch her. Well, not a hardship in the visual sense. There was definitely some hard action taking place south of his belt.

Rusty was holding the hose above her head, raking through her long hair with her free hand when Koda bumped up against her and growled loud enough to be heard over the blare of the music.

Fighting the hair out of her face and blinking against the water in her eyes, Rusty turned to see what had Koda upset.

For the space of a breath, she forgot she was standing there buck-naked. A man stood beside the barn, watching her. And not just any man, but the man who’d haunted her sleep last night and had her trying several times to satisfy her own itch. Hair the same shining color as her black chestnut horse Beau, well over six feet with almond-shaped hazel eyes and a body that was built for pleasure, long and lean with muscles in all the right places and not an ounce of fat to be seen. Not to mention an impressive bulge along his right thigh, clearly demonstrating that not only was he a boxer man, but he had a nice package in those faded Levi’s.

Rusty felt her blood rise just looking at him. Her nipples, hard from the cold water, puckered more and her clit gave a little throb. That’s when she remembered. She was naked as the day she was born.

No sooner had the thought registered than the man grinned. Despite the situation, Rusty wasn’t about to show weakness. That just went against the grain. Her hands fisted and went to her hips.

“Who are you and what are you doing on my land?” she yelled.

“Name’s Clay Russell, ma’am,” Clay shouted to be heard over the music. “I’m here to see Rusty Blackhawk.”

At that moment Rusty wished the earth would open up and swallow her. Of all the rotten luck. She’d wanted to impress the Russell man when he arrived, with her professionalism and savvy. To start out on equal footing with the man.

That clearly wasn’t going to happen. Sucking in a deep breath, she forced herself to walk calmly over to the towel that was draped on the water trough.

She wrapped the towel around her body before she dared to look at the man again. When she did, she saw him quickly hide the smile on his face. She couldn’t help but see the hilarity of the situation. If it had happened to anyone else she’d have had a belly laugh out of it.

And hell’s bells, the way Clay Russell looked, he’d bound to have seen his share of naked women. A man like him sure as heck hadn’t been celibate his whole life.

With her sense of humor restored, Rusty crossed the distance between them with Koda at her side. “Well, I guess you’re in the right place, Mr. Russell.”

Up close the woman looked even better. Her eyes were long-lashed and the most uncommon shade of blue. No, violet, he realized. Surely that color couldn’t be real. She had to be wearing colored contacts. But fake or real, those eyes looking up at him were sure to be featured in another erotic dream in the near future. Right along with the rest of her tantalizing body.

“Mr. Russell?”

Clay blinked to attention. “Blackhawk around?”

“Absolutely,” Rusty replied.

“You think I could see him, ma’am?”

“I think you’ve already seen about as much as there is to see, Mr. Russell,” she said before extending her hand to Clay. “Rusty Blackhawk.”

Clay’s eyes bugged and his mouth dropped open, eliciting a grin from Rusty.

“You? You’re…” he stammered then burst out in a laugh. “Well I’ll be damned. Sorry, ma’am. It’s just that I was expecting you to be a man.

“Sorry to disappoint you, Mr. Russell.”

“Didn’t say I was disappointed,” Clay replied. “Just surprised.” The look he gave her made her blood run hot, along with some other parts of her anatomy.

“That makes two of us, Mr. Russell,” she said with a hint of humor.

Clay gave her a sexy smile. “What say we start this party over, Miz Blackhawk?” He stuck out his hand. “Clay Russell, ma’am, of the Circle R. I understand you and I are gonna be bunking together.”

Koda gave a menacing growl at the comment but Rusty laughed at the sly grin and mischievous twinkle in Clay’s eyes. Clearly life was going to be drastically different with Clay Russell around.