Turning north onto Country Road 27, I was just a few short miles from my destination. The little town of Texas Creek, Colorado lie just a mile or so ahead. The Lazy K Ranch, my grandfather's place, was just a few miles north of the community.
Texas Creek wasn't much of a town. A dozen or so houses and a convenience store that served as a café, gas station and post office was about it. It was a peaceful little town, disrupted only by the occasional train passing along its northern edge.
After passing through the town, I began watching for the entrance to my grandfather's ranch. It wasn't hard to find! Two large vertical posts supported another across the wide entrance. Suspended from the post was a carved wood sign, Lazy K Ranch, Texas Creek, Colorado.
Turning into the gravel driveway, I slowed to look at the horses grazing in the pasture to my left. They were absolutely beautiful! Several young colts were standing with their mothers, undistracted by my sudden appearance. Continuing on, I could see my grandfather's house looming ahead. It was a sprawling brick ranch house he'd had built shortly after purchasing the property. He'd written about it in several of his letters, describing it in great detail.
Pulling up to the garage, I felt relieved that I was finally at my destination. My old Camaro had made the twelve-hundred mile journey from Chicago despite its age. Stepping out of the car, I was never so glad to stretch my legs.
The Lazy K was just as my grandfather had described it, twelve thousand acres of prime pastureland surrounded by beautiful mountains. The Arkansas River, which runs through Royal Gorge, bordered part of the ranch.
Looking down the descending slope, I could see several large barns, all identical in construction and size. There were two ranch-hands tending to the horses in the corrals. Everything was so peaceful and quiet. The only sound was the breeze rustling through the trees.
"Well! Is it exactly as I described it or not?" A male voice questioned.
Startled, I quickly spun around to find my grandfather standing right behind me.
"Grandpa!" I shouted, giving him a big hug.
My grandfather held me in his strong embrace for several long moments. It had been five years since we'd last seen each other, my college graduation. For years, he'd coaxed me to come out and visit him but I'd never found the time.
After graduation, I'd landed a management position with a publishing company in Chicago. I'd gotten married, one of the biggest mistakes in my life so far, then turned to writing novels. My life seemed to be scheduled every minute of the day, leaving me with absolutely no free time. My busy lifestyle and career had been the ultimate demise of my marriage. I felt solely to blame.
"Let's see how bad those bastards cut you." My grandfather commented, examining the left side of my face.
I'd come to Texas Creek and my grandfather's ranch to get away from bad memories and terrible people. The terrible memories I'd never escape from. I was still experiencing recurring nightmares. The bruising and swelling in my face had dissipated although I was still having some blurred vision in my left eye. I still had the jagged scar along my left jawbone that would be with me forever along with the emotional scars I'd carry for life.
All this was the result of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Beaten and robbed outside a popular downtown Chicago nightclub, I'd been left for dead in the parking lot. After being found early the following morning, I'd spent almost two weeks in the hospital recuperating from my injuries. I vowed to never let myself fall into that situation again, not without being prepared.
During a short period of recuperation before leaving Chicago, I'd taken firearms and shooting lessons from a reputable gun dealer. I'd quickly become proficient firing my Smith and Wesson .45 caliber automatic. I felt confident enough to use it if I had to, yet stable enough to use it if unquestionably warranted.
"Well, it could have been worse, I guess." J.D. commented. "At least, they didn't kill you."
"Might have been for the best if they had of." I mumbled.
"What? Whatta ya mean by that?" My grandfather questioned, quite stunned by my remark.
"Nothing." I replied. "Just forget I even said it."
"Let's get your things inside." J.D. suggested. "I told Juanita you'd be staying in the guest room."
Juanita was my grandfather's housekeeper. She'd been with him since he'd moved here. She took care of the house as well as prepare breakfast and lunch for the ranch-hands. She lived in town with her husband, a Fremont County deputy sheriff, and her two young daughters. The Hispanic woman, who I guessed to be around thirty-five, barely stood five foot, three. Juanita's beautiful coal black hair and large round eyes overshadowed her stocky build.
"Ah! I finally get to meet the granddaughter Mr. Kramer talks so often about!" Juanita exclaimed, giving me a hug.
I was quite taken aback by her friendliness and gesture. I wasn't used to being hugged, let alone by two people in the same day.
After getting my clothes put away in the guest room, I joined my grandfather out on the patio. Sitting in cushioned lawn chairs, we sipped lemonade and watched the horses grazing lazily in the pastures. Neither of us said anything for the longest time.
"How's the writing coming along?" J.D. inquired. "Written anything new?"
"No. Not for a while." I replied. "I can't seem to get past the first couple of chapters before my mind goes blank."
"Maybe living out here will change all that." My grandfather commented.
The author of several thrillers and mysteries, I was now writing the first chapters of a new adventure series. Packed with dangerous exploits and crime, the series would be tastefully seasoned with sexual encounters.
I hoped my grandfather's presumption would come true. I was getting desperate to get the first book written so the publisher would get off my case. I needed peace and quiet along with a clear mind, free from worry and other concerns. The Lazy K Ranch seemed the ideal setting.
"I've got to run up to Denver the day after tomorrow." My grandfather asserted. "I'll be gone for a few days. I'll have my ranch foreman look after you."
"You think I need looking after?" I questioned. "After all, I am twenty-seven or have you forgotten."
"I haven't forgotten." J.D. replied with a grin. "I just want to make sure you'll be all right out her by yourself."
"Juanita leaves around 2:00 in the afternoon." He added. "She doesn't return till 5:00 in the morning."
"Let me guess." I jested, grinning. "I bet this ranch foreman of yours is single, about my age, quite handsome and looking for a wife."
"Well, I'm not sure if Cody's looking for a wife or not but I do know he's just twenty-two." My grandfather affirmed. "He is single and I guess you could say he's good-looking."
"Grandpa, I'm not looking for another man." I declared. "I ruined one marriage. I'll be damned if I'll ever make that mistake again."
It seemed like forever since I'd been with anyone. I'd seemingly lost my sex drive. Now, with the very discernable scar along the left side of my face, I knew I'd lost my sex appeal also. Everything that had happened to me during the past few years had turned me very bitter and introverted. All I thought about was my writing and living in near seclusion. I wasn't happy but I'd forgotten what real happiness was like.
I'd managed to retain the same great figure I had at twenty-one. Standing five foot, eight, my weight was well within range for my height. My shoulder-length sandy blonde hair, I styled feathered back along the sides. It certainly did nothing to hide my facial scar but I didn't care. Not anymore! My emerald green eyes had lost their sparkle. They often appeared clouded from lack of sleep.
Juanita had prepared dinner for us before she left for the day. I was used to a diet of frozen entrees and snack foods but Juanita's cooking tasted too good to be true. I could see why my grandfather always praised her cooking in his letters.
After dinner and straightening up the kitchen, the two of us adjourned to my grandfather's office. There were numerous oil paintings hanging on the walls, some were of mountain landscapes, others were of a historic nature depicting stage coaches and cattle drives.
"I didn't know you were an art connoisseur." I stated, looking at each of the paintings. "These are absolutely beautiful."
"They're Cody's, something he does in his free time." My grandfather responded. "He's quite good, don't ya think?"
"Yeah. He sure is!" I replied. "They're all great!"
While my grandfather caught up on some paperwork, I sat quietly watching a movie on the television in his office. A young man appeared at the French doors that led out onto the patio. His sudden appearance startled me.
"Cody! Come in!" My father shouted. "I'd like you to meet someone."
Removing his black western hat, the handsome young man stepped into the office. He was about six foot in height with an athletic build but not overly muscular. To say he was handsome was an understatement! Cody's thick, dark hair and bright blue eyes highlighted his great looks. The small cleft in his chin accentuated his clean-shaven face. He was wearing a dark blue shirt and faded denim jeans along with well-worn cowboy boots.
"You're Michelle Gray, J.D.'s granddaughter." Cody stated, extending his hand. "I recognize you from your picture on the book jackets."
"I take it you've read some of my books." I affirmed, shaking the young man's hand.
I immediately noticed how rough and calloused his hand was. Cody was definitely a man accustomed to performing manual labor.
"I've read most of them." Cody replied. "I like your style of writing. Lots of action without overdoing the violence. Although, the sexual situations seem a bit too detailed."
"What the hell does he mean, the sexual situations are too detailed!" I thought, concealing my anger. "Hell! He's just twenty-two! This cowboy's probably never fucked anything but his fist!"
"You headin' out for the night?" My grandfather inquired, interrupting the conversation.
"Yeah. Thought I'd better check on that herd off in the canyon." Cody replied. "That seems to be where they're hitting us the most often."
"I could saddle up another horse if you'd like to go along." He added, smiling at me.
"No thanks." I responded. "I'm not much for riding horses."
"I'll have to see what I can do to change that." Cody remarked. "Out here, damn near everyone rides!"
The truth of the matter, I was somewhat frightened of horses. I found them quite beautiful but also a little threatening because of their size and strength.
"Well, I'll think about it." I commented. "I've got a lot of work I need to catch up on."
"Ah! I'll bet you're writing a new book." Cody surmised. "Another great thriller or mystery with lots of action and chaos."
