Excerpt from JESSE: Blackwater Canyon Ranch Book Five
Scarlett West’s pulse thundered in her head as she ripped clothes from hangers in her closet and stuffed them haphazardly into a suitcase. She shouldn’t have said it. She’d known what would happen. The slightest hint of backtalking always earned her a slap in the face, and she’d gone way beyond snide remarks this time.
She cast a swift glance at the clock on her nightstand, and her heart squeezed in fear. She had less than three minutes to make her escape. She should have packed first. But she hadn’t planned this. At least not for today.
But Hank had been particularly vicious on the phone, and she’d finally snapped. Hatred had built in her for years, and today she’d blown like a volcano chockful of too much magma and pressure.
Now, she was down to minutes. Whatever she could grab in that amount of time would be all she’d take with her.
She added a pair of athletic shoes and that was it.
She couldn’t afford to take more.
With shaking fingers, she zipped the suitcase and dashed through the bedroom door.
“Tiger Lily,” she called as she raced for the front of the house, searching for the white fluffball who’d become her reason to live. “Tiger Lily!”
No response.
She cursed as she sprinted outside and threw the suitcase in the backseat of her beaten down, white Honda. Then back to the house. She scrambled into the smallest bedroom and dropped to her knees.
She gasped when she spotted her precious baby. “There you are.”
The beautiful white cat opened her eyes as though she hadn’t a care in the world. Scarlett reached for her, managed to grab two legs, and slid her from under the bed. With her love secured in her arms, she ran for the door.
Inside her car, she tossed Tiger Lily into the passenger seat and shoved the keys into the ignition. Her tires squealed as she peeled backward down the drive of the small, rotting house in rural Colorado.
This was it. The start of her new life. A chance to find where she belonged in this big, wide world. Something she should have done a long time ago.
This was why she’d egged him on, pushing him into a verbal explosion. If she pissed him off enough that he’d want to kill her, she could never go back. From here on out, she’d never be able to convince herself that life with him wasn’t that bad. This choice forced her to be strong. She’d cut all ties and would now face the fear of the unknown. She would find something better than the miserable, broken existence she’d suffered for three years.
She zipped past golden fields until a flash of black on the horizon brought bile into her throat and infused her with heart-stopping terror. He’d said he was on the other side of town. He couldn’t have driven so close to home so fast. Unless he’d lied to her.
Determined, she pressed harder on the accelerator of her pitiful, rusted Honda.
He had to see her coming. Beyond a few trees lining the ditches of the farmland, there wasn’t much out there but her, him and God. So far, God hadn’t helped her. Hank would try to stop her, but he couldn’t. Not if she didn’t slow down.
And she wasn’t slowing down. She’d leave her bastard of a husband and this godforsaken town or die trying.
She swallowed hard and prayed for a miracle.
Her heartrate increased as she sped closer to him. Soon, she could see the outline of his fearsome figure behind the wheel. She didn’t care. He couldn’t touch her now.
When she was a hundred yards from him, she inhaled a deep breath and held it. The next few seconds would foretell her future.
Without warning, he swung his truck to block her path. Her breath exploded from her. She no longer faced open road, but the side of his big, black monster, instead.
She slammed on her brakes, the squeal of rubber against pavement mixing with the sound of her scream. She jerked hard on the steering wheel, but momentum carried her until the side of her car slammed into his truck.
The impact jerked her to the side and tossed Tiger Lily against the passenger door. She sucked in a frantic breath and took inventory. The second she realized her engine still idled, she pressed hard on the gas again and screeched away from his truck.
He had to back up his Ford to straighten on the road, which gave her a small head start. She’d take what she could get. Tears welled in her eyes. The direction she headed now would lead to nowhere, an eventual dead-end. Her only hope would be to make it to the Jackson’s house a mile down the road and pray someone was at home who would help her.
She quickly realized she wouldn’t make it that far. Hank’s truck had a much bigger engine than her little four-cylinder, and he gained on her like a coyote chasing down a bunny.
The slam of his truck against her bumper jarred her again, and she fought to maintain control of her car. She kept the Honda in the center of the road so her crazed husband couldn’t pass, and she kept her foot mashed on the accelerator.
Bam.
He hit her again, sending her car swerving to the right, forcing her onto the dried grass along the side of the road. She jerked the steering wheel in response. Her Honda veered back onto the road with a crazy lurch and then he rammed her again.
This time, her car spun and tilted on two wheels before it landed hard and slid into the ditch. Her head reeled from the impact. Blood ran into her left eye, blinding her. She swiped to clear her vision even as she reached for the door handle to escape.
Desperate panic swept over her like a raging wildfire when the door wouldn’t budge. She slammed her shoulder hard against it multiple times until it suddenly opened, and she almost fell out. Instead of freedom, Hank’s body filled the space.
He gripped her arm with crushing fingers. “No,” she cried pathetically, and he ripped her from her car as bass beats thumped from his truck’s state-of-the-art speakers.
Rage, redder than the blood dripping down her face, vibrated the air around him. His red hair, normally combed, looked mussed.
“You’ve done it now.” Veins in his blue eyes threatened to pop, and his words shook with barely controlled fury. “I try to be good to you, Scarlett, and you throw it in my face time after time.”
He would hit her. Already, he’d balled a meaty fist into a weapon of destruction. She should beg for forgiveness. But she couldn’t. Despite the outcome, she couldn’t go back.
“Let me go, Hank,” she pleaded. She knew he’d feast on the vocalization of her fear, but she couldn’t help that. “If you hate me so much, just let me go. I won’t bother you anymore. You can keep all your money for yourself.”
He’d forced her to quit her secretarial job the first time he’d blackened her eye. Couldn’t have the God-fearing folks in town mistaking what had happened between them. They wouldn’t understand.
He snorted and released a maniacal laugh. “And have everyone here think I’m not man enough to take care of what’s mine? I don’t think so.”
He shoved her hard, knocking her to the ground. “Get on your knees.”
“No.” She tried to crawl away, but he yanked on her hair hard enough to snap her head backward.
“I said, on your knees. If you want to see another day, you’d better start begging for mercy.” A twisted grin turned his lips as he unbuckled his belt and slid down the zipper on his jeans.
A sob escaped her when he slipped his enlarged penis from his pants. The pleasure he took from their situation sickened her. “I can’t. I’m bleeding all over. It will get on you.” She prayed his aversion to blood would save her.
“You’d better pray to God it doesn’t. Now beg.”
She nearly vomited as she took him in her mouth. He fisted his hands in her hair and began to croon. “That’s it, honey. That’s why I’ll never let you go.”
If she never heard the word “honey” again, it wouldn’t be too soon.
“Oh, my God!”
Hank shoved Scarlett away as a woman’s voice came from the opposite side of her car. Scarlett landed hard on her ass. He zipped his pants just as Marie Jackson rounded the front of the destroyed Honda.
“Oh, my God,” their neighbor exclaimed again as she rushed forward and knelt before Scarlett, her overly tanned face making her look older than her thirty-five years. “What on earth happened?”
“She wasn’t paying attention to the road,” Hank barked before Scarlett could say a word. “I was waiting for her to wave as we passed, but she hit the side of my truck instead. Spun her around, but good. I told her not to get out of the car, but she did and she fell.”
He knelt next to Scarlett. “Are you okay?”
Tears poured from her eyes, mixing with blood before dropping to her shaking hands. She couldn’t answer. Couldn’t utter a word.
Hank slipped a hand behind her back. “We’d better get you home, honey. Thanks for your concern, Marie, but I can take it from here.”
“Oh, no.” Marie’s voice grew higher, and she placed a hand on Hank’s arm. “You can’t move her. Not after an accident like this. She needs an EMT to check her first.”
Tension in the air tightened several degrees. “Like I said, thank you, Mrs. Jackson, for your concern, but I think I know my wife better than you. I’ll handle this, and you can run along.”
Scarlett reached out and gripped Marie’s arm. If her neighbor left, Scarlett might not live to see the sunrise. Hank quickly disengaged her hand.
Marie glanced between the two of them several times before she stood. Scarlett wasn’t sure what she’d seen, if anything, but she seemed leery of Hank. “Les?” she hollered. “Did you call the sheriff?”
A tall, lanky man appeared at the hood of Scarlett’s car. The shock on his face threatened the remainder of her control. “They’re sending someone now. Good God, Scarlett. You need to lie down.” He hurried forward, and his wife made room.
For a crazy second, Scarlett was sure Hank would argue, but he seemed less certain with a man on the scene.
Les took her by the shoulders and eased her down to the soft grass. “I’ve taken several first aid classes, and I can help. You might be going into shock. Marie, grab the blanket from the trunk and the first aid case, too. You have a mighty fine cut on your head, Scarlett. Let’s see if we can slow the bleeding.”
“I’ll move my truck out of the way,” Hank said. “To give the sheriff’s department better access.”
Or to erase obvious evidence of what had happened. Then again, his cousin would likely be the deputy who showed, which meant Hank would get away scot-free. Again.
Scarlett closed her eyes as pain thundered through her head.
“Stay with me, Scarlett.” Les patted her hand. “Don’t go to sleep until after medical help arrives and assesses you, okay?”
She lifted her chin in agreement, as she fought to keep her promise. She had to stay awake, if for no other reason than to make sure they didn’t leave her alone with Hank again. If she could make it to the hospital, she could get the care she needed and escape from there.
Chapter Two
Jesse Brogan slowed his bay mare as he neared the lone mailbox perched atop a worn wooden post at the end of the long drive leading from his property. Gorgeous late-afternoon sun showered him with sunshine that tempered the early September breeze. The biggest, bluest sky hovered overhead. An expansive stretch like that might overwhelm some people, like the ones who preferred cramped quarters with neighbors living practically on top of them. For him, the beautiful area east of Yellowstone in Wyoming, snuggled up next to the Absaroka Mountains was all he ever wanted.
Now, he had it.
Damn if he didn’t love his life. On days like today, it didn’t matter what kinds of shit he’d been through. His failed marriage. Loss of too many cattle to wolves and sickness the previous year. The loneliness that sometimes ate at his heart. God knew, he wasn’t done wading through the mire that no doubt waited on his horizon like a grenade ready to explode.
But nothing could ruin a day like today.
He slid from his horse and strode to the mailbox. It creaked as he opened it to find it crammed full of envelopes, ads, and a week’s worth of newspapers. He cursed under his breath. It hadn’t been that many days since he’d managed to collect the mail, had it?
As he separated envelopes from other printed matter, he mentally calculated the last time he’d made it out to the road. Had to be when he’d gone to town for groceries, which had been… “Eight days ago?” Jesus.
Time flew like crazy these days.
He shook his head and scanned the envelopes as he headed toward his horse. One return address brought him to a halt, and he let the rest of the mail fall to the dirt below. Hot, clammy dread slithered over him as he opened the letter sent by the dear, old Internal Revenue Service. He quickly read the letter and then crumpled it in his hand. He bellowed his frustration toward the wide-open sky.
The repeated urge to blame his cheating ex-wife for leaving him in such a damnable situation welled inside like a new blister. He closed his eyes and breathed the fresh air, searching for a bit of solace that had played with him only moments before. Nothing.
Fact was, as much as he liked to pretend otherwise, his life was a screwed-up mess, and he had to do something before he lost more than his marriage. The funds in his bank account rivaled that of the nearby, dried-up, late autumn stream. Otherwise, he would have hired someone to manage parts of his business. But the late fees and overdraft charges were killing him, not to mention the notice from the I.R.S. now claiming interest and penalties for not paying enough taxes the previous year.
Something had to give, and he feared it would be his sanity. He wasn’t the type to admit he needed help, but dammit, he did.
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She cast a swift glance at the clock on her nightstand, and her heart squeezed in fear. She had less than three minutes to make her escape. She should have packed first. But she hadn’t planned this. At least not for today.
But Hank had been particularly vicious on the phone, and she’d finally snapped. Hatred had built in her for years, and today she’d blown like a volcano chockful of too much magma and pressure.
Now, she was down to minutes. Whatever she could grab in that amount of time would be all she’d take with her.
She added a pair of athletic shoes and that was it.
She couldn’t afford to take more.
With shaking fingers, she zipped the suitcase and dashed through the bedroom door.
“Tiger Lily,” she called as she raced for the front of the house, searching for the white fluffball who’d become her reason to live. “Tiger Lily!”
No response.
She cursed as she sprinted outside and threw the suitcase in the backseat of her beaten down, white Honda. Then back to the house. She scrambled into the smallest bedroom and dropped to her knees.
She gasped when she spotted her precious baby. “There you are.”
The beautiful white cat opened her eyes as though she hadn’t a care in the world. Scarlett reached for her, managed to grab two legs, and slid her from under the bed. With her love secured in her arms, she ran for the door.
Inside her car, she tossed Tiger Lily into the passenger seat and shoved the keys into the ignition. Her tires squealed as she peeled backward down the drive of the small, rotting house in rural Colorado.
This was it. The start of her new life. A chance to find where she belonged in this big, wide world. Something she should have done a long time ago.
This was why she’d egged him on, pushing him into a verbal explosion. If she pissed him off enough that he’d want to kill her, she could never go back. From here on out, she’d never be able to convince herself that life with him wasn’t that bad. This choice forced her to be strong. She’d cut all ties and would now face the fear of the unknown. She would find something better than the miserable, broken existence she’d suffered for three years.
She zipped past golden fields until a flash of black on the horizon brought bile into her throat and infused her with heart-stopping terror. He’d said he was on the other side of town. He couldn’t have driven so close to home so fast. Unless he’d lied to her.
Determined, she pressed harder on the accelerator of her pitiful, rusted Honda.
He had to see her coming. Beyond a few trees lining the ditches of the farmland, there wasn’t much out there but her, him and God. So far, God hadn’t helped her. Hank would try to stop her, but he couldn’t. Not if she didn’t slow down.
And she wasn’t slowing down. She’d leave her bastard of a husband and this godforsaken town or die trying.
She swallowed hard and prayed for a miracle.
Her heartrate increased as she sped closer to him. Soon, she could see the outline of his fearsome figure behind the wheel. She didn’t care. He couldn’t touch her now.
When she was a hundred yards from him, she inhaled a deep breath and held it. The next few seconds would foretell her future.
Without warning, he swung his truck to block her path. Her breath exploded from her. She no longer faced open road, but the side of his big, black monster, instead.
She slammed on her brakes, the squeal of rubber against pavement mixing with the sound of her scream. She jerked hard on the steering wheel, but momentum carried her until the side of her car slammed into his truck.
The impact jerked her to the side and tossed Tiger Lily against the passenger door. She sucked in a frantic breath and took inventory. The second she realized her engine still idled, she pressed hard on the gas again and screeched away from his truck.
He had to back up his Ford to straighten on the road, which gave her a small head start. She’d take what she could get. Tears welled in her eyes. The direction she headed now would lead to nowhere, an eventual dead-end. Her only hope would be to make it to the Jackson’s house a mile down the road and pray someone was at home who would help her.
She quickly realized she wouldn’t make it that far. Hank’s truck had a much bigger engine than her little four-cylinder, and he gained on her like a coyote chasing down a bunny.
The slam of his truck against her bumper jarred her again, and she fought to maintain control of her car. She kept the Honda in the center of the road so her crazed husband couldn’t pass, and she kept her foot mashed on the accelerator.
Bam.
He hit her again, sending her car swerving to the right, forcing her onto the dried grass along the side of the road. She jerked the steering wheel in response. Her Honda veered back onto the road with a crazy lurch and then he rammed her again.
This time, her car spun and tilted on two wheels before it landed hard and slid into the ditch. Her head reeled from the impact. Blood ran into her left eye, blinding her. She swiped to clear her vision even as she reached for the door handle to escape.
Desperate panic swept over her like a raging wildfire when the door wouldn’t budge. She slammed her shoulder hard against it multiple times until it suddenly opened, and she almost fell out. Instead of freedom, Hank’s body filled the space.
He gripped her arm with crushing fingers. “No,” she cried pathetically, and he ripped her from her car as bass beats thumped from his truck’s state-of-the-art speakers.
Rage, redder than the blood dripping down her face, vibrated the air around him. His red hair, normally combed, looked mussed.
“You’ve done it now.” Veins in his blue eyes threatened to pop, and his words shook with barely controlled fury. “I try to be good to you, Scarlett, and you throw it in my face time after time.”
He would hit her. Already, he’d balled a meaty fist into a weapon of destruction. She should beg for forgiveness. But she couldn’t. Despite the outcome, she couldn’t go back.
“Let me go, Hank,” she pleaded. She knew he’d feast on the vocalization of her fear, but she couldn’t help that. “If you hate me so much, just let me go. I won’t bother you anymore. You can keep all your money for yourself.”
He’d forced her to quit her secretarial job the first time he’d blackened her eye. Couldn’t have the God-fearing folks in town mistaking what had happened between them. They wouldn’t understand.
He snorted and released a maniacal laugh. “And have everyone here think I’m not man enough to take care of what’s mine? I don’t think so.”
He shoved her hard, knocking her to the ground. “Get on your knees.”
“No.” She tried to crawl away, but he yanked on her hair hard enough to snap her head backward.
“I said, on your knees. If you want to see another day, you’d better start begging for mercy.” A twisted grin turned his lips as he unbuckled his belt and slid down the zipper on his jeans.
A sob escaped her when he slipped his enlarged penis from his pants. The pleasure he took from their situation sickened her. “I can’t. I’m bleeding all over. It will get on you.” She prayed his aversion to blood would save her.
“You’d better pray to God it doesn’t. Now beg.”
She nearly vomited as she took him in her mouth. He fisted his hands in her hair and began to croon. “That’s it, honey. That’s why I’ll never let you go.”
If she never heard the word “honey” again, it wouldn’t be too soon.
“Oh, my God!”
Hank shoved Scarlett away as a woman’s voice came from the opposite side of her car. Scarlett landed hard on her ass. He zipped his pants just as Marie Jackson rounded the front of the destroyed Honda.
“Oh, my God,” their neighbor exclaimed again as she rushed forward and knelt before Scarlett, her overly tanned face making her look older than her thirty-five years. “What on earth happened?”
“She wasn’t paying attention to the road,” Hank barked before Scarlett could say a word. “I was waiting for her to wave as we passed, but she hit the side of my truck instead. Spun her around, but good. I told her not to get out of the car, but she did and she fell.”
He knelt next to Scarlett. “Are you okay?”
Tears poured from her eyes, mixing with blood before dropping to her shaking hands. She couldn’t answer. Couldn’t utter a word.
Hank slipped a hand behind her back. “We’d better get you home, honey. Thanks for your concern, Marie, but I can take it from here.”
“Oh, no.” Marie’s voice grew higher, and she placed a hand on Hank’s arm. “You can’t move her. Not after an accident like this. She needs an EMT to check her first.”
Tension in the air tightened several degrees. “Like I said, thank you, Mrs. Jackson, for your concern, but I think I know my wife better than you. I’ll handle this, and you can run along.”
Scarlett reached out and gripped Marie’s arm. If her neighbor left, Scarlett might not live to see the sunrise. Hank quickly disengaged her hand.
Marie glanced between the two of them several times before she stood. Scarlett wasn’t sure what she’d seen, if anything, but she seemed leery of Hank. “Les?” she hollered. “Did you call the sheriff?”
A tall, lanky man appeared at the hood of Scarlett’s car. The shock on his face threatened the remainder of her control. “They’re sending someone now. Good God, Scarlett. You need to lie down.” He hurried forward, and his wife made room.
For a crazy second, Scarlett was sure Hank would argue, but he seemed less certain with a man on the scene.
Les took her by the shoulders and eased her down to the soft grass. “I’ve taken several first aid classes, and I can help. You might be going into shock. Marie, grab the blanket from the trunk and the first aid case, too. You have a mighty fine cut on your head, Scarlett. Let’s see if we can slow the bleeding.”
“I’ll move my truck out of the way,” Hank said. “To give the sheriff’s department better access.”
Or to erase obvious evidence of what had happened. Then again, his cousin would likely be the deputy who showed, which meant Hank would get away scot-free. Again.
Scarlett closed her eyes as pain thundered through her head.
“Stay with me, Scarlett.” Les patted her hand. “Don’t go to sleep until after medical help arrives and assesses you, okay?”
She lifted her chin in agreement, as she fought to keep her promise. She had to stay awake, if for no other reason than to make sure they didn’t leave her alone with Hank again. If she could make it to the hospital, she could get the care she needed and escape from there.
Chapter Two
Jesse Brogan slowed his bay mare as he neared the lone mailbox perched atop a worn wooden post at the end of the long drive leading from his property. Gorgeous late-afternoon sun showered him with sunshine that tempered the early September breeze. The biggest, bluest sky hovered overhead. An expansive stretch like that might overwhelm some people, like the ones who preferred cramped quarters with neighbors living practically on top of them. For him, the beautiful area east of Yellowstone in Wyoming, snuggled up next to the Absaroka Mountains was all he ever wanted.
Now, he had it.
Damn if he didn’t love his life. On days like today, it didn’t matter what kinds of shit he’d been through. His failed marriage. Loss of too many cattle to wolves and sickness the previous year. The loneliness that sometimes ate at his heart. God knew, he wasn’t done wading through the mire that no doubt waited on his horizon like a grenade ready to explode.
But nothing could ruin a day like today.
He slid from his horse and strode to the mailbox. It creaked as he opened it to find it crammed full of envelopes, ads, and a week’s worth of newspapers. He cursed under his breath. It hadn’t been that many days since he’d managed to collect the mail, had it?
As he separated envelopes from other printed matter, he mentally calculated the last time he’d made it out to the road. Had to be when he’d gone to town for groceries, which had been… “Eight days ago?” Jesus.
Time flew like crazy these days.
He shook his head and scanned the envelopes as he headed toward his horse. One return address brought him to a halt, and he let the rest of the mail fall to the dirt below. Hot, clammy dread slithered over him as he opened the letter sent by the dear, old Internal Revenue Service. He quickly read the letter and then crumpled it in his hand. He bellowed his frustration toward the wide-open sky.
The repeated urge to blame his cheating ex-wife for leaving him in such a damnable situation welled inside like a new blister. He closed his eyes and breathed the fresh air, searching for a bit of solace that had played with him only moments before. Nothing.
Fact was, as much as he liked to pretend otherwise, his life was a screwed-up mess, and he had to do something before he lost more than his marriage. The funds in his bank account rivaled that of the nearby, dried-up, late autumn stream. Otherwise, he would have hired someone to manage parts of his business. But the late fees and overdraft charges were killing him, not to mention the notice from the I.R.S. now claiming interest and penalties for not paying enough taxes the previous year.
Something had to give, and he feared it would be his sanity. He wasn’t the type to admit he needed help, but dammit, he did.
CLICK HERE TO PURCHASE JESSE: Blackwater Canyon Ranch Book 5
