Chapter One

 

Rebecca Foster was hot, sweaty, and tired. The August sun was beating down on her slender shoulders as Cooper trudged along beneath her, as hot as she. Her brown hair was matted against her skull beneath the white straw hat, and she had long since given up trying to wipe the sweat off her brow with her equally sweaty wrists and hands.

It was almost a hundred degrees on the south Texas prairie, and absolutely no place for a fair skinned white girl. Even one slathered in sunblock. But she had a job to do, and a father too sick to do it. At the moment that was checking the north fences and doing minor repairs before they became major.

Their ranch was nothing to write home about, no more than five hundred acres, and not the best land around, but it had been in her family for generations, despite everything the county taxmen could do to them.

She eyed the fence line as they moved, checking for strands that sagged, or posts that leaned too much, and glad to not find many. Then she did, and sighed, pulling Cooper to a halt. She slid down nimbly, despite her weariness, patted Cooper, then went over to look at the fence.

The strand had pulled loose as the post had leaned inward. She pushed the post back, then went back to Cooper, grabbed her gloves and the sledgehammer, and pounded the post a little more firmly into the ground.

There was a lot of strength in her arms and shoulders, and it didn't come from a fitness club. Becca knew all about fitness clubs, but the notion that people had to go waste their time running on treadmills or pulling on wire or elastic cables to work their muscles was so beyond her life experience it was difficult to grasp.

Her body was slender, but strong, her muscles taut from regular use. The only noticeable fat on her lay in the cups of her bra - a bra as sweaty as the rest of her, and one she resented having to wear. Especially out here in the middle of nowhere.

She'd been flat chested into her middle teens, and hadn't minded at all. Then they'd sprouted even as she'd grown several inches taller, and they'd been irritating her ever since. The wrong kind of men were attracted to breasts like flies to shit, and hers were now all-too noticeable.

She had never much minded when guys commented on her butt, for she had a sharp tongue to her and could easily snap back at them. Besides, she couldn't normally see people staring at her butt. But having men, even old ones, looking down at her chest instead of her face was something kind of hard to ignore.

But the bra, even though it squeezed in on them, which made them even hotter and sweatier, was necessary if she was going to swing a sledgehammer, or they'd bounce around in an annoying fashion.

She got the hammer and pliers, and made sure the barbed wire was fixed firmly in place, then climbed back onto Cooper's back and continued on.

Twenty minutes later Cooper began to move faster, smelling the water, and she did little to restrain him. She still kept her eyes on the fence as they moved, as more greenery sprouted around it, brush and small trees instead of just the tall prairie grass.

The greenery thickened and grew taller, and then there it was, the pond. No one had ever given it a name that she knew. It wasn't like there were so many ponds on their property it even needed one. It was about forty feet by the same again, and fed by a small creek which flowed off the Tukswana river on the neighboring ranch.

Cooper went right up to it and stepped in, then bent his head to drink. Becca slipped off, pulled her shoes off, and then, making sure her cell phone was left behind, walked into the pond and then threw herself forward, immersing herself in the relatively cool waters.

She stood up with a relieved sigh. The water was only about four feet deep here, but that was plenty. She dunked herself under again, then threw herself back into where it was a little deeper before coming to the surface.

She swam, then walked forward, and splayed Cooper, who moved back a little in annoyance.

She laughed and then climbed out of the water herself. She reached back and wrung out her hair a little, but wasn't concerned about being wet. The sun would dry her soon enough, even her low riding jeans. Aside from them she wore an off white tank top which was tight across her breasts and pulled in against her ribs just below them. It had 'I am a crazy girl' in oddly shaped letters across the chest.

She normally didn't wear anything with letters or designs on the chest since all it did was give boys excuses to stare at her boobs more but out here she was safe enough.

She looked up into the sky, then out over the land and sighed contentedly. She couldn't imagine being stuck in a cubicle somewhere, or working in a store, or behind a counter in a bank like her cousin Emily. This might be harder, physically, but it was so much better and more real.

She brushed the long, wet bangs back off her forehead, then decided to have another dip. She threw herself in and swam leisurely across to the other side. She considered stripping naked. There was no one but Cooper to see, after all, and he sure didn't care.

But no, years of teasing and taunting from horny boys and jealous girls at school had made her awfully self-conscious about her breasts. So even out here she wasn't eager to expose them to the air. The wisdom of that decision made itself known about five minutes later when a horse appeared over the raised bank behind her.

"A trespasser!" a male voice cried.

She turned, startled, just as a lariat settled around her chest and yanked tight. She yelped, almost pulled off her feet, her arms pinned to her sides as she glared up at the grinning young man looking down at her.

She recognized him. James Morrow. He'd been a year ahead of her in school, and had been among her tormentors. His father had a hundred thousand acre ranch - the one next to her family, as it happened, and he had tried all through school to claim her as a notch on his belt. He hadn't gotten very far.

"What do we have here?" he said, "Looks like a lost cow wandered onto my property."

She tried to pull her arms out from under the loop and he jerked her forward again so she did stumble onto one knee.

"Quit it!" she snapped. "You big dumbass!"

"Mouthy cow, too. Probably cuz it hasn't been milked yet. Them udders sure look full," he taunted.

She flushed despite herself. Her wet tank top plastered to her body, and was mostly see-through at the moment, and her bra wasn't much better.

"You are an asshole!" she shouted.

Another horse came up beside the first. Denver Morrow, his father. Where James was slender and gym-toned, Denver Morrow was broad-chested, and had the muscles of a man used to hard work, even if he didn't do much of it anymore.

He looked down at her, then sighed, reached down and grabbed his son's thigh, and yanked it up and out. That made James yelp in surprise as he tilted over the opposite side of his horse and fell to the ground.

Becca used the opportunity to wriggle out of the rope, glowering up at both of them.

Well, mostly at Jimmy. No one dared glower at Denver Morrow much. He was a powerful man, locally, and only had to cock his finger to have the county sheriff, the mayor of Lindon, and just about anyone else come running, eager to know what he wanted of them.

"Apologize to the young lady," he ordered.

Jimmy picked himself up, scowling up at his father.

"I don't see no lady. I just see a scraggly farmhand with big tits," he said.

He turned to her and sneered again "Beckyyyyy!" he chanted. Beck-beck-beck-beck-beckyyy!"

His father moved his horse closer and then brought his foot up against Jimmy's back, then shoved, and he went tumbling down the low embankment into the water.

"Jesus H. Christ!" he snapped. "You're twenty years old! Act like a man and not a twelve year old boy!"

He turned to Becca and tipped his cowboy hat.

"Sorry to bother you, Miss Foster," he said. "I hope your father is feeling better."

Jimmy got to his feet, glaring up at his father, then turning to stare at Becca's chest.

"I can see your nipples, Becky," he taunted, his voice low.

A lariat settled around him, this time, and he yelped as it cinched tight. Then he was being yanked backward and up the bank, his father easily pulling him even after he started to resist.

Mister Morrow got down and moved forward to the edge of the bank, where he had quiet words with his son. Jimmy, red-faced, then got on his horse and rode off.

"Mind coming up here for a moment?" he asked her.

Becca minded a lot, but she didn't see a way to say no without being rude. And you didn't get rude with Denver Morrow. Besides, if he wanted to talk, she couldn't refuse. And if someone was going to climb up and down a bank it wasn't going to be him. That was just common sense.

She reached the top, her arms crossed across her chest then as he smiled thinly at her.

"I apologize for his behavior," he said. "Sometimes, people get more arrogant than their accomplishments justify."

She nodded brusquely.

"Tell your father my offer still stands," he said. "Any time he wants."

"I don't think he's much interested in selling, Mister Morrow," she replied. "My father was born here and he says he'll die here."

"He can do that. I wouldn't kick the man out of his house. But if he sold the land to me he'd have money to fix up that old house, take care of his medical bills, and even send you off to college."

She laughed. "Me in college? I like being out here. I don't know of anything else I'd want to be."

"Well, it's sure been good to you," he said. "I see so many pudgy girls now, girls with their bellies hanging over their belts. It's good to see a girl with a nice, firm belly," he said, looking down.

"And abdomen," he said. "Your jeans are pretty low."

She flushed, confused, and somewhat flattered, too. No one had ever complimented her on her belly before. They always seemed to focus on her boobs or butt or hair or eyes.

"Uhm, they're made that way," she said.

He nodded, raising his eyes to her face.

"A pretty girl like you, though, shouldn't be out working like a ranch hand," he said. "That sun is gonna turn your skin to leather if you keep it up."

His own skin was dark and tanned and lined with the years, even though he was only in his forties. He was a handsome man, though, gruff, stern, and absolutely aware that he was master of not only his ranch but the county around it.

"My dad will be better soon," she said.

He might not be looking at her breasts, but he was looking at her the way men did, and that made Becca feel... strange. Mr. Morrow wasn't like most men. There was something wild about him, something untamed and powerful. He was a man who didn't live by many rules because he didn't have to. And even if he was older there was something powerfully masculine about him that appealed to her instincts in a way she could barely recognize.

Still, he was more than twice her age, and the lord of all he surveyed. He might have 'offered' to buy out their much smaller ranch, but if he really tried to he could force them off it easily enough. The bank did pretty much whatever he told them to, for example, as did most of the stores in town.

He was a man to be polite to, and to be wary of.

"Jimmy ever have you out to our place?" he asked.

She shook her head. He'd invited her, of course, but she'd refused.

"I'm always looking for staff," he said. "Not a lot of people want to live out here so far from town."

"I got too much to do here, Mister Morrow, but I thank you for the offer," she said.

"Maybe when your dad feels better," he said. "Jimmy will be going back to school next month, so he won't be around to bother you. And the job pays twenty an hour."

"Uh... what sort of job?" she asked carefully.

"Routine stuff; some inside, cleaning and polishing, some outside doing some light maintenance like washing the cars, cutting grass and doing pool maintenance. We got enough to keep you busy, and keep that belly flat."

He smiled lightly and she flushed again.

"Twenty dollars an hour is a lot for that, isn't it?" she asked uncertainly.

"I can get some Mexican for half that, but don't want someone around the house I can't trust and whose family I don't know. Here's a bonus for you. If I hire you, you'll be hired by my corporation, not me personally."

She frowned at him in confusion, wondering what difference that made.

"If you get hired by my corporation you get benefits, including health care for you and your immediate family."

That gave her a jolt. They didn't have health care and the expenses for her father were huge.

He reached over and his big hand gripped her arm just below the sleeve, then squeezed a little. A moment later he gripped her other arm, startling her. He let go after a second, grinning.

"Got nice, strong arms, girl," he said. "Means you're not lazy. You come and see Bob, who runs the place. He'll see to things."

He climbed back on his horse, gave her another long look, then rode off after his son, leaving Becca looking doubtfully after him. Health care would be fantastic! But the way he had looked at her had been... unsettling. Of course, a lot of men looked at her in that sort of way, even when she was dressed normally.

She looked down at herself and made a face. Her top wasn't completely see-through but it sure wasn't hiding a lot.

She slid back down the bank then jumped into the pond, ducking her head before surfacing and swimming across to the other side.

Her father's health care costs since he'd had a hurt his back last month had been huge. The ranch had always been profitable, but barely. There wasn't money for health insurance. The money his treatment needed was sapping his savings. He needed an operation on his back, but the cost was ridiculous. And she had strong suspicions he was ignoring certain drugs his doctor had prescribed because they cost too much.

Whatever her suspicions about Morrow, if she could get him health insurance that would be a huge load off his back - and hers.

She put on her hat, climbed back onto Cooper's back, and then headed off to continue checking the fences. But the thought of Morrow, and working for him, was never far from her mind.

Her suspicions about him wanting more from her than what local people might term 'respectable' work led inevitably to the thought of what it would be like sleeping with someone like Denver Morrow. It wasn't the sort of thought which had ever occurred to her before.

He was, for one thing, way older than anyone she had ever had any sort of fantasies about - well, except for Brad Pitt, who, come to think of it, was probably older than him. Also prettier, though, she thought.

But older or not there was something deeply attractive about a man so strongly built, so absolutely sure of himself, so competent and determined and aggressive. Then again, he was also the kind of man that made people nervous, including her!

What would she do if a man with that sort of determination decided he wanted her in his bed? What would she do if she worked in his house and he wanted her in his bed!? She had little fear he would use physical force. She suspected that just wasn't his way when dealing with women.

But he wouldn't need to. If she needed the job he could just hint that keeping it meant keeping him happy. And then what?

That led her again to the idea of what it would be like to sleep with him, and that led to a flurry of mixed emotions. Partly that was because most of her disdain for the local boys who hit on her so much was that they acted like immature puppies, unworthy of her, and untrustworthy.

She wasn't about to sleep with some slobbering idiot who probably wasn't very good and who'd go brag to everyone he knew about it! But that was surely not the case with Denver Morrow. He was, by any measure you cared to use, an impressive man.

If she had a... well, a fling with him, nobody was likely to find out. So... so it wasn't all that horrible a thought... not really...

Anyway, she could always refuse, and then they'd simply be no worse off than they were now.

She made her way back home, weary, dirty and sweaty. She took care of Cooper first, of course, then went inside the small house to find her father sitting on the sofa watching TV. She flicked her eyes quickly downward, but the sun had dried her clothes fairly quickly.

"Hey," she said, pleased. "You're out of bed."

"Yeah, my back isn't killing me so much now," he said.

"Great! I checked the fence all the way to the northwest corner. I can get the rest tomorrow."

"I wouldn't worry about that, so much. I rebuilt the west fence only a couple of years ago. It should be fine. Better to move the horses to the west pasture. East is probably eaten out by now."

"Oky-doke."

Their ranch was too small, really, to keep cows, unless it was a very small herd. Cows needed a lot more pasture than horses. Instead they raised quarter horses, and kept just under two hundred of them.

"Ran into Denver Morrow out at the pond," she said.

He snorted. "What's he want?"

"You can't guess?"

"What'd you tell him?"

"Said I didn't think you had any interest."

"True enough."

"He said you could take the money and still stay here."

"Yeah. And do what? Sit and watch TV all day? Go work for him? No thanks."

"Funny you should say that. He offered me a job?"

"Doing what?"

"Sounds sort of like maid and general maintenance, washing cars and cutting grass and stuff. Twenty dollars an hour."

"That's a pretty high salary for that sort of thing?"

"He says he don't trust Mexicans. And he said that if I worked for him he'd have me hired by his corporation, as opposed to him, and that'd qualify us for health care."

He snorted. "Most times when you get health insurance it don't cover what they call pre-existing conditions."

"Oh," she said, crestfallen. "Well, the money'd be nice anyway."

"Maybe when I'm back up to mounting a horse."

She nodded.

She went upstairs and stripped, then looked at herself in the bathroom mirror.

"Yeah, you'd like to get your hands on this, wouldn't you, Denver Morrow," she said softly, cupping her breasts and squeezing them up and together.

"You and your rotten son and every other dirty punk in town."

She sighed and turned to the tub, turning it on to very lukewarm water, then stepping underneath.