Wicked Cowboy

Chapter 1 Carter Rockson The horse, Henry, bucked off his rider. The cowboy rubbed his ass as he stood, which meant he was fine. I stared into the black eyes of that horse and didn’t blink. He slowed down and followed the trainer out. It would be weeks before that stallion was trained, but my heart filled with hope. He’d been abused, and beaten, and almost sent to make glue, but soon that one… he’d be a champion. It was pure energy, the horse's spirit. Helping him was good. It was easier than seeking salvation for myself. Three years ago now, Dora, my ex from the Navy SEALs, had stormed out of our tent in the middle of the desert without her helmet because I ended our relationship. I’d said I wasn't happy, and she’d marched into enemy fire. Because of me. Because I hadn’t wanted to marry her. I blinked and stared at the horse’s barn for another moment. Now I’d never be allowed happiness. I didn't deserve it. I stepped forward right into the bright sun of the day, adjusted the brim of my cowboy hat, and headed toward the main house. I checked my phone. The tests for the geothermal systems to gather the shale were promising. I should probably order myself Poprocks as a thank you, though I’d not had that candy since I was probably ten. But the technology reminded me of that old school candy, and it seemed appropriate, especially if I could save some land and increase the company's portfolio. I breezed through the double glass doors and stepped over the Rockson family brand, embedded in the floor with gold, and continued straight to my office. Once upon a time, my mother had made our home more like a palace, so when people visited the ranch, it was an experience. For them to know they were with Rockefeller descendants. She hadn’t cared that my great-grandfather had legally changed our names to Rockson to avoid that connection. I’d dated Dora because she’d been nothing like dear old mom, but the opposite direction hadn’t been what I'd wanted either. Now Dora’s blood would always be on my hands. My office still had my mother’s presence in it, with gold and white furnishings. As I sat, the door swung open. I ignored the report on my desk and folded my hands as I stared into the dark eyes of a man I’d spend days here and never see. At one time, my father, Hudson Rockson, ruled his empire and was never home. But that was before the second heart attack. Now he was forbidden from working and chased off every nurse I hired for him. He would not interfere with business now. I tapped the desk and asked, “Pop, what’s going on? I was working with the horses.” His nose wrinkled, “You’re not a cowhand, Boy.” Both of my parents had shared that opinion. Neither understood me. I pressed my hands on the desk to signal I had work. “I’ve not been a boy in a long time, either.” This conversation never ended well. I scooted closer to the laptop, but picked up the paper report and pointed to the door “So I’ll head back…” A young brunette girl, my charge, stepped forward like she needed an invitation. I had to figure out how to calm her down. I stood, dropped the paper in my hand, and asked, “Chelsea, what’s going on?” Today, she wasn’t crying. This was a good thing. She came over and hugged me like she needed me. “My dad always said you’d help. I don’t want to be shipped off to mom’s friend. I know you.” Her tiny hand was the opposite of mine, and I knelt in front of her. “I’ve not been able to talk to Ridley Steel yet.” Pop then said, “Ensure she never shows up here and starts any trouble.” Chelsea added. “You promised to protect me.” I paused. My father had hated my friends when I was a boy. He’d said Bernie had been beneath me, but Bernie had been the reason I'd joined the SEALs. Bernie had saved my life and I worked every day to be worth that time. It should have been me in a car crash, not him. I pushed back a small tear. “Your mom wanted me to share you with Ridley Steel, her best friend. Maybe she’s not that bad.” The little girl’s face was white. She held me like I was a rock she’d never let go of as she said, “You and my dad were best friends. If I stay with you, I can visit their graves.” “You can always remember them and how they hugged you.” “I don’t want to go to Pittsburgh.” I swallowed. “I vaguely remember Ridley. She was sweet, like your mom.” Her face crumpled like paper, and she shook her head. “But this is my home.” My entire body tensed. I couldn’t imagine my best friend had lost his life like this and left me his daughter. What happened to Bernie's mother? Had Henrietta died when I was overseas? I’d not asked in months and just assumed she'd moved to Florida, retired or something. My investigators were on the case. I glanced at my father, who had his arms crossed. Everyone had their price. I could afford whatever Ridley asked so she’d grant me full custody, so I could handle whatever Chelsea needed. Not that she needed to know that money bought anything. I took her hands in mine. “I promise to include you in any deal I make with Ridley.” “Promise me that I’m staying with you permanently.” Chelsea hopped in a seat like she was a business partner. “Then, I can calm down.” “You are home. I’m sure Ridley will be reasonable.” I said and rocked on my feet. Bernie’s girl shouldn’t be worried. I had the means to give her what she wanted if she named her price. Adrenaline pumped in my veins like this was a mission now to get the numbers to fix everything. I turned my head and asked, “Pop, did you get her something to eat?” He took a step forward and placed his hand on the girl’s back. “I want to know how I can help Chelsea. Bernie was your friend, and she’s a good girl.” Now he was about supporting friends? All my life, my father only ever talked about our business dealings. I widened my stance and decided fast I’d keep Bernie’s daughter as my own. “Go and get the girl something to eat. Then, I can figure out how to find Ridley and close the deal.” She patted her stomach. My pop nodded. “Fair enough.” Chelsea then said, “Thanks. It’s true I’ve not eaten much. I’ll trust you, Carter.” She trusted me? My heart twisted. I’d ensure this was her home. Bernie would want this even if the will stated I was to share with a woman whose smile and bright eyes had been memorable even though I’d only met her once. No mention of his mother was listed in the will, so Henrietta must have died. I had no idea about Bernie’s wife’s family, other than she graduated out of foster care. So Ridley and I were to make a deal with no other family interference. I called out as they were heading to the kitchen. “Just to be sure, you don’t have grandparents?” Chelsea’s nose wrinkled. “Mom said her foster family had been the Steels, and Ridley was the closest thing she had to a sister.” Chloe had been like her sister and not just her best friend. I hadn’t known that. I joined them and headed to the kitchen. If the chef wasn’t ready, I could make sandwiches, which was more than my father might know. I stepped in front of them as we walked into the galley kitchen my mother had likely fashioned from one of her European vacations where she’d discovered the old-world charm of a huge table, but it had every modern piece of equipment. I opened the double door, stainless steel fridge and took out the prepared fruit tray. I placed it on the huge wooden table where those who worked for us mostly dined as I asked, “Do you have any other relative I don’t know who might show up one day? I want you fully protected, so no one shows up to mess with us.” “No, just Ridley, who I guess I met when I was a baby getting baptized, but I don’t remember. I was too little.” Chelsea took an orange slice and popped it in her mouth. Her face got some color. I ignored how the chef came in the side door as Chelsea said, “Mom talked to her on the phone every day, but both my parents had no one else. Dad talked about you all the time before you moved home.” I whispered we’d take some of the chicken the chef had made last night as the girl hadn’t eaten much. “Then you eat and let me talk to my lawyers and tell them the only custody issue will be Ridley, and the will mentioning that we share you.” I tapped the table as the chef brought over some chicken. “Remember, I don’t ever want to go to Pittsburgh. I can’t leave my parents like that.” Bernie and Chloe had died. My heart was in my throat. “Got it.” She cut the food as she asked, staring at it. “Who's going to go put flowers on their grave?” Damn. I pushed back a small tear. Men don’t cry, and I needed to focus on the promises I’d sworn to Chelsea. So I said, "We’ll get those flowers soon. Let me find Ridley. She might be a non-issue.” “Thank you, Carter. I don’t want to ever leave Texas and them. They need me now.” The dead don’t need any of us. I wiped my eyes before my father saw me. This wasn’t me. I sniffled and then said, “Pop, I promised Bernie I’d always have his back. Glad you’re on my side.” “Chelsea, here, looks like her mom.” My father said. “And her mom made good barbeque sides.” At least he remembered the good evenings when they’d come over. I hadn’t known he’d paid attention to anyone who visited me that didn’t concern business. I pressed my hand on my heart. “But she talks like her dad.” I pivoted to run to my office, but my pop’s words stopped me. “You looking to adopt her permanently, so she’d be a Rockson?” I doubted Ridley would want to share a child she hardly knew, and Chelsea was the only kid I’d ever have. I gave a curt nod without saying a word. “I… yeah. I need to know she’s safe.” My pop cut his chicken. “She needs us. You go. I’ll stick around here to eat with her.” I never thought I’d live to see my father in the kitchen galley and not fine dining with the crystals. At another time, I’d have commented, but I ignored how my hair stood on its ends tonight and headed back to my office. I ignored the reports on green fracking that might revolutionize my job and not destroy the earth. I read them, signed off, and called my lawyers. “Any progress on finding Miss Steel?” “Her lawyer filed the paperwork for her in court, but I don’t have an address to serve her yet.” Her lawyer meant she was getting set for battle. This was going to be harder than I'd hoped. I hung up the phone and waited. I read the report on using sonic pressure points and forwarded the contract to my legal team. The future in oil was in finding better procedures, preparing for alternative energy sources, and not getting stuck on past performance. And it was my SEAL training that kept me glued to my seat and focused. Emotion got more men killed than the bullets fired. Dora should never have left our tent without her gear on. My phone beeped, but I opened the report that said Henrietta was dead and Chloe had been a foster child. The second page made my pulse zip. She was here. On the next page, I had a picture of Ridley at the courthouse. She looked exactly the same as I remembered. And she was here. In Texas. My lawyer called me. “Her lawyer called. She’s coming to talk to you, sir.” “Good,” I said fast as my mind raced to Bernie. The summer after we’d graduated from different high schools, he’d talked about going into the service. His words made me question going to the college my parents had picked out for me. No Rockson had served in generations, until I signed myself up. Now it was up to me to protect Chelsea, and a conversation was a good start. I tugged my ear as the lawyer asked, “What do you want to do?” I stared at my open door. Bernie had taken the blame for when I’d destroyed my Jaguar from racing it that summer, and my mother forbade us from being friends. Now, I’d keep his daughter as my own. “Prepare a case for me.” Chelsea deserved to be safe, so I said, “I’ll want to adopt her permanently.” The lawyer said, “Ridley Steel is not married, no children of her own, and lives alone.” None of that was a reason to take Chelsea out of my house. My skin electrified like I needed to prepare for battle, so I said, “Find out everything you can.” I hung up the phone and my father plopped into the seat across from me. “I found this Ridley Steel, mystery woman.” My eyes widened. I tilted my head. “That’s strangely convenient.” He pointed out to the house. “She’s at the front door. Security just buzzed her in.” She must have driven straight here without stopping. Maybe she was in a rush, and I’d sort everything out and have a quiet dinner. I rose from my chair and asked, “She’s alone and without cops?” My father stood with me like we were for once on the same team. “Seems so.” Good. I was willing to talk and make a deal. We headed out of my office and I forced my cheeks to turn higher when I stared at the thin girl staring at us from the kitchen wing. I smiled at her and turned to Pops. “Why don’t you take Chelsea on a tour of our horses. I’ll text you when to come back.” He stood like he’d protect Chelsea when he argued, “We’re not kicking her off the property right away and serving her with papers to bury her in paperwork?” Today was already confusing. I patted him on the back like we were family, and not strangers who lived in the same house with the same name. “Call this recon, Pop.” He shook his head and guided Chelsea to go with him. “You and your fancy army talk.” “Sailor, Dad,” I called behind him, though I knew he’d made that mistake to annoy me. The Navy SEALs prepared me to lead this corporation the second the doctors said my father shouldn’t. The skyrocketing profits since proved I’d done a good job. He offered his hand to Chelsea and she took it like they were friends. “My son never should have served at all. The military is designed to serve us.” Maybe he was nicer to women than his own son. Or maybe age calmed him down. Anything was possible, but I motioned with my head toward the back door for them. “Get going.” A car parked in front of my house, and I headed out the front door and closed it. As I stared at my driveway, I vaguely remembered Ridley. She’d been on my arms in that Church at Bernie’s wedding. I’d been his best man. The woman in a blue shirt, and jeans that hid beautiful curves, pushed her shoulder-length, brown hair behind her ears, and stepped toward me. My head tilted and she glided toward me. The night of the wedding, she’d worn crystals in her upswept hair. No one had ever captivated me like that before. I offered my hand to shake when I said, “Miss Ridley Steel.” She widened her stance and didn’t blink. “Maybe, you remember me? I was Chloe’s best friend. We met at their wedding.” Her hand fit in mine, and she wasn’t wearing a ring. No ring just as I’d been told. Had no man claimed this angel as his own? I kept that to myself and pointed her toward the house. “Yes, right. That was ten years ago.” She massaged her temple and her lips thinned. She kept her distance and hugged her waist. “Time doesn’t ever stop, yeah.” I’d met her after boot camp and before my first mission. My mind had been on proving myself then, but I realized through the years it was always the married men who made it through missions a little better off than the single ones. Studies on the topic made it seem like married men tended to make more measured choices. The theory was they had a reason to return home. If Ridley had been mine, maybe I’d have come home sooner myself. Not that I’d ever marry. Dora’s blood on my hands was enough reason to keep my distance from good women. I ignored the heat in my veins. “How can I help you?” She tugged her shirt and her face turned red. “Chloe and Bernie’s daughter was left to both our care, it seems. Chloe asked me to watch her daughter if something ever happened to her, but she never mentioned you.” I stepped up to open the door. “Bernie asked me the same thing.” Her eyes widened. “Did he mention me?” “No.” Hopefully, I figured out her price and sent her home. “You came a long way. My lawyers said you live in Pittsburgh.” She sized me up like I was a teenager. Most women only notice my muscles then offer their panties. When they discover my bank account, they swear they love me. She glowered. “Yes, and that doesn’t matter. A promise is a promise.” Her hips swayed when she stepped past me and let herself inside. I swallowed as I’d noticed. But I closed the door and followed behind her. The way she swiveled her hips made me hard. “I’m getting the picture now. How is it you aren’t married with children of your own?” “Completely inappropriate.” She curled her nose at me, and it was like her scold was a siren call. I was unexpectedly sprung, like I needed to mate my own filly, as she said, “My marital status doesn’t mean I’m not capable of taking care of Chelsea.” I kept my distance, half afraid I’d touch her and she’d brand me when I asked, “What makes you equipped to watch the girl?” Her shoulders were tight and straight, and she stood like she was sure of herself. “I’m a nurse. And taking care of others is in the job description. Do you have any experience with children, Mr. Rockson?” If we could work this out between us, without lawyers, I’d get to go inside and tell Chelsea tonight. Bernie would want me to do that. So I pointed her toward the couch in the living room we never used. “Carter, please, and unlike you, I know Chelsea and picked her up the moment I heard about the accident, and she knows me.” “She’ll know her mom and I were close and, hopefully, in time, we will love each other.” “Love.” I nodded. “It seems you and I have a lot of catching up to do.” “Okay.” She pivoted and stared at the huge room with a marble floor with red and gold Persian rugs covering the cold stone. Sun shone in the windows and bounced off the crystal chandelier that made the walls sparkle. My mother had created this room to prove to her friends she was as close to royalty in Texas as she could be. My gut twisted that Ridley wasn’t impressed. She held her head high and marched forward. I’d not met a woman that stirred anything inside me in a long time, but watching her hips sway stole my breath away.