Gathering Fallen Rocks Ch 13

It took Gail and Howard less than two hours to load all but the Fletcher's overnight things. Betsy promised to clean the refrigerator and bathroom before they left. Gail said not to bother, and then started doing those two things for her because she knew the older woman would do them anyway.

When they were finally home, Gail fell on the bed, "Oh, don't even ask me to get up for at least an hour."

"Come on, Sweetheart, go take a shower, you'll feel better and sleep better, too."

"No," Gail shook her head. "I'm just going to stay right here."

Howard walked to the bed and picked her up. "You wash it, or I will."

"Okay," she said. "You can wash it."

Howard put her down in the middle of the tiny bathroom. "Gail, I was not teasing."

"I'm not either. I've thought about it and I don't know why we are waiting. I don't know what to do or I would ... So, if you can teach me ..."

Howard looked at her for a long moment, "This is not for fun. This is forever."

"I know," Gail said. "I remember what you said about the church's requirements of conjugal love and the sacrament of matrimony. I may not understand them as you do, but I know what they mean."

"Alright, if it is what you want, please take a shower and then I will. I want our first time together to be very special. I'm not going to rush, I've waited too long."

After his shower Howard got into bed and moved as close to Gail as he could get, whispering in her ear, "Gail Fisher, I love you. I love you and want to live with you for the rest of my life."

He slid one arm under her and neatly turned her over to face him, kissed her and became very still, just holding her.

"Howard, I said marriage vows once, but I didn't really understand them then. I do understand them now. I could say every one of them by heart, because they would mean something to me now. For the rest of our lives, I'm going to think about them every time I say I love you."

For a few moments they were both quiet, enjoying holding each other. Haltingly, Gail asked. "Tell me ... tell me what to do."

"Don't do anything. Just relax for a minute."

Slowly, he began to touch her, and she touched him. She found his small male nipples and circled them with her fingers, then arched her back when he did the same to her. They found places to touch and rub, like the insides of her thighs, the inside of his, the smooth skin up the back of his thighs and all the way to his shoulder blades. He stroked the underside of her upper arms while she kissed the tender spot at his throat that caused shivers when he did the same to the soft skin under her breasts.

Howard found a soft spot under her jaw and used his tongue to slide back and forth while she raised her chin. He kept going from side to side as she moved her head for him, moaned, and mumbled about how good it felt.

"Yes, Sweetheart, that's what it feels like when a man worships a woman." He nuzzled her neck, intensifying the sensations, and gently kissed her, working his way back down to her breasts.

He reached up to brush her hair back from her face and leaned over to kiss each eye, then moved to her lips to kiss her deeper than before. She could feel the heat of his body as his muscles flexed when he rubbed his hands up and down her back, cupping his hands to pull her hips closer to him.

He placed a hand on each side of her face, pulling her head to him to kiss her. He whispered, "Open your mouth for me, Baby. I want to taste you. I want you to taste me."

He leaned back, taking her with him, and then rolled over until she was on her back and the intensity of his kisses increased. His hands were on her, moving from one breast to the other as he kissed her. He rubbed her belly, occasionally threading his fingers through the curls in the vee between her thighs and returned to massage her breasts, moving his head down to suckle for a moment on one and then the other before returning to her mouth.

"Raise you hips for me, Baby. Oh yes, and again, move with me, just like that." Then he couldn't speak, he could only feel—the tightness of her, her heat and her strength as she learned to match his rhythm. Enjoying the feel of the friction between them, they moved apart and then together as if they were dancing, her hands going up and down his back in the same rhythm their bodies were moving.

He looked down at her, her eyes closed, smiling with her mouth partly open, the dimple barely visible.

Then she took over, increasing the speed, then a little faster, pulling the energy from him, until he felt like he would explode. She threaded her hands through his hair and pulled his face down while she raised her head to kiss him, drawing his tongue into her mouth in the same rhythm she was moving her hips, sucking on his bottom lip, and running her tongue down his neck.

He felt her back arch and her hips rise off the bed as she groaned. Her muscles contracted around him, over and over as his arms quivered from holding himself rigid until he was exploding inside her, wishing he could have lasted longer and wanting to begin again. Her arms wrapped around him and held him in place. The sweat from her exertion mingled with his, their breathing panted heavily, their heads lay together on the pillow while she trembled, and the aftershocks of pleasure went through her body as if she were reacting to someone suddenly slapping their hands together.

He rolled off her and pulled her into his arms. He was trembling, just as she was. She put her hand up to brush the perspiration off his forehead, rubbed her cheek against his chest and whispered his name over and over.

He spoke softly near her ear "I have never particularly liked my name, but when you say it like that, it's the most beautiful sound in the world. Go to sleep, Baby. I may want to do that again in the morning, just to hear you say my name."

****

Gail awakened when Howard was nibbling on the soft spot under her ear. She had been dreaming and realized it wasn't a dream. It was barely light in the room and the air conditioner had finally cycled off, but she was still cold.

"Howard, did we really do that last night."

"Yes, Sweetheart, every time. I've been thinking we need two beds, one to play in and one to sleep in."

"That was playing?"

"Well, I was having fun and I know you enjoyed it, so I guess calling it fun is alright. But I felt like I was making love to you."

"Yes, I guess so. I've always wondered what it was like. You know, you hear things like that, at a movie or on television, "I love you," "I want to love you," "Let me make love to you," and they don't sound real, they sound false. I just wondered what making love really meant."

"But you don't wonder anymore?"

"No, I think I know now. But I want you to tell me what feels good to you." She rubbed her hips against him, to get his attention.

"You keep doing that for much longer and you won't need to be shown anything."

Both of them were surprised when Gail's cell phone rang so early. She received a further surprise when she answered. "Atwood, it's Saturday, what are you doing at the office."

"Who-e-e-e," Atwood used his favorite word of celebration. "Boy, have I got news for you."

Tempted to take the telephone away from her ear to look at it, just to make sure she was really talking to the Atwood she knew, she asked, "Okay, tell me."

Atwood chuckled, "I think that young bank officer is going to prison and he may take a few friends with him."

"Atwood, what are you talking about?"

"Well-l-l," he drawled, enjoying the suspense he was creating. "I think I'm talking about fraud. That young man forgot to remove the copies of some of the other papers he had attached to his copy of the abstract. I am looking at copies of some paid receipts for those taxes on Howard's land that the county said were never paid. The receipts have dates on them much earlier than the bank loan, which I suppose means they were paid when they were due. That means someone gave him these copies, or he has the originals somewhere in the bank vault."

Gail could barely control her excitement, "You have what?"

"Yep, that's what I'm looking at. But that's not all I found. Oh well, we shall save the rest for another time," Atwood said, as if he was having a pleasant conversation. "By the way, ask Howard how much of that bank he wants to own."

Surprised at Atwood's question, Gail stumbled over her words, "What ... How ... I can't believe ..."

Atwood laughed as he tried to calm her down, "Take it easy, Gail. I'm joshing, sort of. You two have a nice weekend."

****

Howard worked Saturday, which gave Gail a chance to make most of the arrangements to meet a second-hand furniture dealer at her storage room. The manager of the facility gave her the name of someone at the Women's Shelter who would take anything Gail did not want to keep. Her donations would go to an abused or homeless woman who was trying to reestablish herself.

They left town before daylight, already groaning about the long day ahead of them. Three blocks from the storage buildings, Gail's cell phone rang. She looked at the small window on the front of the phone and muttered, "Oh shit!"

Instead of putting the phone to her ear, she pushed the button to operate the telephone in hands free mode. Howard would enjoy this conversation.

"Hello, Mother, ah ... Melissa."

"Gail, where have you been and why won't you answer your phone? Are you trying to avoid taking my calls? I've been leaving messages for a god damn week."

"No, my telephone was stolen and I just received the replacement. They let me keep my old number."

"Humph," the wordless sound could be heard by both Gail and Howard, causing them to look at each other. Howard's jaw tightened and Gail turned back to the windshield as if she didn't want to speak, but could not bring herself to remain silent.

"Why were you calling?"

"I finally called that asshole, Collins. He said you moved out of your apartment. Did you move in with Gary, or is there another man I don't know about?"

"The answer to both of your questions is, 'No.' Why were you calling?"

"Gail, did you quit or did you get fired. I pulled a lot of strings to get that job for you."

"Melissa, you did not get that job for me. I asked for it on my own and was working there for over a month before they knew I was your daughter."

"Well, all that snot nose Tommy Abrams said was that you didn't work there any more. I had to call Carlson to find you."

"But you didn't call me at work, you called my cell phone. Now please, tell me why you called."

"I thought I did call you. Are you sure they didn't just forget to give you the message?"

Gail clenched her jaw, "I always return my calls. No one has mentioned that I've failed to receive a message."

"That doesn't matter now. Your father called to ask me about you. He said a sheriff in some county on the border called him asking questions about you."

"Yes, that would be Sheriff Ramsey. I've spoken to him and answered his questions. Did Dad say he thought I was in trouble?"

"No, he just said this sheriff was doing his job and asking questions. If you want to tell me what this is about I'll let your father know."

"No, that's okay. He was just asking questions."

Following Gail's hand motions, Howard drove into the driveway of the storage facility and parked the car then reached his hand out to Gail.

"What did you do and what are you doing down there almost across the street from Mexico? Good God, you'll get killed over there."

Gail grasped Howard's hand and held on to him, trying to keep her voice to a reasonable level. "I'm right here in town Mother. Now, why did you call?"

"Well, Ricky ... ah, his mother called me. He ... ah, she said Ricky went to rehab and took the anger management classes but you still refused to withdraw your complaint. He lost another job because of the outstanding criminal complaint."

Before Melissa could finish speaking, Gail was talking, "He put me in the hospital." She was almost screaming. "I had three broken ribs. I almost lost an eye. He had a knife and he said he'd kill me. NO. I WILL NOT WITHDRAW MY COMPLAINT. I don't ever want to hear his name again and if that's the only reason you called, you shouldn't have bothered. GOODBYE."

Gail folded her cell phone and tossed it on the floor. Then she looked at Howard. "If that phone rings, don't answer it."

Howard's organization and packing skills had Gail's vehicle completely filled. She was surprised how easily he tied down other boxes on the roof luggage rack. The representative from the women's shelter arrived to take everything Gail could not load into her vehicle or sell to the second hand furniture dealer, leaving the garage-sized room completely empty.

After speaking to the weekend manager who promised to mail Gail's refund check, minus fees and penalty for breaking the lease early, they left, going slower than they had arrived because of the weight the vehicle was hauling. It was long after dark when Howard parked in front of the small townhouse and near midnight when they finished unloading.

The next morning, after far too few hours of sleep, Gail was sitting on the side of the bed while Howard was rubbing her aching shoulders.

"Howard, how can you possibly be in a good mood this morning? I'm so stiff I'm afraid I'll fall over if I try to stand up."

"Its okay, Baby. We need to spend a night at the ranch. You can rest while I pack. I go in late tomorrow. I'll unload while you're at work."

"Okay, I need to shower and get to the office to see what Atwood was so excited about Saturday. He probably worked all weekend."

****

The residential closing side of the office was neat as a pin, which meant Petra and Emily, the receptionist, found time Friday afternoon for a little dusting and straightening after all their supplies had been moved and put away. It was a shock, however, when Gail walked through the connecting door into the law office side. Old file storage boxes, some looking like they would barely hold together if touched, were stacked none too neatly in several places. The hallway to the break room was barely passable where more file boxes appeared to be leaning dangerously, in danger of falling.

Atwood was sitting at his desk, with several opened boxes on the floor nearby. Olivia was sitting across the desk from him, holding two thick files on her lap. One of the files was opened and she was reading a paper, while speaking to Atwood in Spanish.

Olivia paused for a moment, giving Gail a chance to speak, "Atwood, what on earth ..."

"Good morning, Gail." He looked around his office, just as Gail was doing and started chuckling. "I told you you've created a mystery that I am compelled to solve."

"Yes, but you didn't have to ..."

Olivia interrupted, "This you see, Gail, is the man I live with. To me David says we will select my new car today."

"I thought you were going to take your time to move all the old records," Gail groaned.

"Yes, I did. The carpenter was persuaded to finish the shelves on Saturday while Barry and a few of his friends happily moved the boxes. You can take care of the residential business and I can concentrate on the commercial. That gives me a lot of time to solve the mystery."

Atwood looked around for a moment then looked at his wife, "Olivia, where is that ..." he picked up a folder from the credenza behind him, offering it to Gail, answering his own question. "Yes, here it is. Make yourself a copy of this then make a list of the documents I've marked that we need copies of. I want new, certified copies of the original documents, not old ones from any files we might have around here. You can go or you can send Barry to the courthouse for the copies." He waved his hand in dismissal and returned to the conversation he'd been engaged in with his wife.

Before Gail could turn around to walk to the nearby copy machine, Atwood stopped her, "Gail. Keep good notes on any documents the courthouse doesn't have. We will need a written request to the state for copies from the archives. I don't want them from the online site. We will need legible certified copies of the original documents."

Before Gail could make it back to her office, Atwood was calling Emily on the intercom asking her to make sure the table Gail had used for her temporary desk was cleared off. Philip Querexeta would need plenty of desktop space to catalog additional documents, and he just might be able to resolve a few minor questions about some of the land titles in the county.

****

Howard nodded all the way to the ranch, often admitting that he could only half-way follow what Gail was trying to teach him. Several times he asked her if she understood what she was explaining. He was satisfied when she assured him that she knew what she was talking about but that Atwood had much more knowledge than she did.

Howard parked in front of the old adobe house and was just leaving the vehicle when Pete Curran stopped his light green Border Patrol car, turned off the engine, and got out then walked over to talk to Howard and Gail.

"Did you come out to check on your cattle or are you two spending the night?"

"We're staying the night. We rented a place in town so I need to pack some stuff."

Pete leaned against his car and folded his arms across his chest, looking like he was going to be visiting for a while. He glanced at Gail, but spoke to Howard. "I heard you created a little stir at the bank Friday." He glanced at Gail again then turned his attention back to Howard.

Howard chuckled and began to explain what all the fuss at the bank had been about. Gail interrupted for a moment to tell them she was going inside to start some supper and gather her things.

From inside the house, Gail could hear the men's laughter. After a short time she was so busy she did not notice their voices were lowered.

Pete looked at the dirt between his boots and spoke quietly, "While you were in town Saturday, a woman made it all the way out to the highway."

"How bad was she?"

"A passing motorist picked her up and took her to the police station. She understood more English than they thought she did. The booking officer told another officer where he was taking her. She got away from him as he was taking her out the back door. She escaped and hid between a couple of parked cars at a convenience store until one of the customers came out."

"So, the driver took her to Sheriff Ramsey?"

"You know George Hernandez at the newspaper?"

"Yeah."

"The driver was his girlfriend. The woman told her what happened and George's girl took her to his house. He interviewed her and she had some story to tell. I guess his story made some big headlines in some big city papers."

"Santos's little party gets broken up, huh?"

Pete took a deep breath and blew it out. "Yeah, the feds will probably be here in a few hours. You sure you want to stay out here tonight?"

"Pete, this is my home. I didn't let Santos drive me away and my ancestors didn't let the Indians scare them off."

"We're not sure what he was moving, but two big semi-rigs pulled out of the road onto the highway this morning, about daylight, headed south. Customs is holding them at the border. Some of his pickups left a little after that, but we think he's still out there in his house. There must be something important he's guarding and he hasn't gotten all of it moved."

Howard looked behind him and saw Gail at the small kitchen window. He turned back to Pete, "Can I go in with you tonight?"

"No man, no way. And don't you come on your own either. I know about you. I could lose my job and probably go to prison for what I'm telling you, but that's why I'm here. Keep out of it and don't let anyone interfere. This is big time big. The feds were just about ready to act. This just speeded things up by a few weeks. The shit is hitting the fan and people are going down. You don't want any of this action."