Jaycee wanted to run. Run as far and as fast as her legs could take her from this place and these people. This man especially.
But she could not. At least not now. Why had she foolishly agreed to leave her old battered second-hand car at her ranch? The excuse of it being a decoy seemed lame when she needed it now to get them far from this place.
She sighed, her shoulders slumped as she stepped from the front porch on to the rocky, hard-packed red earth of the Hill Country. She lifted her face and looked out across the hills from whence its name came. In the sunlight, they would burst like fire with reds and deep burnished oranges. But by moonlight, they seemed dark and steeped in mystery. Jaycee had had enough mystery for one night.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow, she would make some calls. Speak with Hector and Lupe; surely, it was safe for them to go home by now. She would not think about why the run-down wooden frame house and five acres of land seemed so barren now. Why it stretched out like some lonely soulless maw waiting to devour her life?
She wrapped her arms about herself as the cool night air hit her. She refused to believe it was the thought of going back to her life without him that brought a chill to her heart as well as her body.
He stepped forward and wrapped his strong arms over her shoulders. Heat blasted through her. Not simply the additional body heat of another human, but some chemical reaction that only the two of them were capable of combusting.
She knew she should pull away. For her sanity's sake at the very least. But she never seemed strong enough to resist when he was this close. Like magnets drawn together. Or more like that moth who could not resist the light until it flew too close and burned its wings away.
He drew her deeper into his embrace, pressed his lips to her forehead tenderly. "Nʉ Sʉmʉ, why can't you see? You are my light. I am that moth, completely helpless to resist you. And yes, you have the power to destroy me."
He drew back with a heavy sigh. The moon must have been playing tricks because she would have sworn his eyes glistened with unshed tears. But he held firmly to her hand and tugged gently, "Come. I have something to show you."
She considered arguing but could not find the energy. What did it matter? She had made up her mind. Tomorrow she would take them far from this place. She would put all of this behind her. Behind them. It was what was best for Angel.
He pushed open the barn door. He did not turn on the bright lights that might disturb the horses as they slept. Instead, he used the torch on his phone to light their way back to the stall with that old battered trunk.
Jaycee wrapped her arms tighter about herself as a sense of foreboding crept up her spine with each step that Rex took away from her and closer to that trunk.
She was not a hunter. While she was not vegetarian, she believed deeply that humans had an obligation to care for animals, even the ones that they ultimately ate. She had been disgusted not only by Tybor Marshall's action towards the horses but his son's neglect as well.
So, the animal hides and feather headdress in that trunk bothered her, but there was something else as well. She was not sure what, but something deeper that made her uncomfortable around them.
"What are we doing here, Rex? I should get back to the house. Make certain that your grandfather has not upset Angel. Try to settle her for the night."
He turned with the mottled tan, brown, black, and white pelt in his hands. His voice was flat, hard even when he spoke, "Right now, your doubts and fears are doing our little girl more harm than you realize. That's why I got you out of there. And why I brought you here?"
Jaycee stood taller, her shoulders squared, her hands on her hips. "MY daughter is none of your concern. Your grandfather may be a nice old man; I don't deny that. But Angel doesn't need her head filled with mumbo-jumbo. We don't..."
"Don't need anyone, Jaycee?" He stood with the hide in his hands, crossed the room to her. "Everyone needs someone. And I need you. Yes, that little girl is my concern. Just as much as her stubborn, pig-headed, obstinate mother is."
His tone softened as he shifted the pelt and brought one hand to caress her cheek. She wanted to draw back but instead found herself leaning into the tender caress. "You're a good mother, Jaycee. I know how much you love Angel."
"But right now, this minute, and for the past two weeks, you have been standing in the way of the one thing that can help our little girl."
He sighed, "But that is my fault. Maybe I should have done this sooner. Certainly, it was safe once I brought you here. No more. It is past time I showed you the truth. As much as you may want to deny it."
He leaned in and once more placed one of those heart-stopping kisses on her forehead. "I love you."
Jaycee felt the floor give way under her. She gripped the doorway to keep on her feet. Angel was the only person who had ever said those words to her. Why now? Why this man? She could almost dismiss the sexual heat they generated. That was biology, hormones, and neurotransmitters, nothing more. But those words?
She felt bereft when he stepped deeper into the stall. The light was a bit dimmer, but between the moonlight drifting through the window above and the torch on his phone that he had passed to her, she watched.
When he began to strip off his clothes, she was more than tempted to run. Maybe it was curiosity that held her there. Lust was certainly another option. After weeks of fantasizing about what lay beneath his clothes, how could she resist?
She shook her head as her eyes drifted from his body to the object that now lay at his feet. Jaycee shuddered at the realization it had once been a wild mustang. And from the looks of it a spectacular one at that.
"Rex, what are you doing? This is ridic..."
Before she could finish the word, he had divested himself of the last of his clothes. Then he reached down and reverently lifted the pelt. He wrapped himself in it. Rex closed his eyes, leaned back his head, and hugged the horse blanket even tighter about his shoulders.
Jaycee dropped to the hay that covered the floor of the barn. Not even the wall could hold her up as she watched. It was as if the animal swallowed the man as it grew, stretched, transformed. Even as she watched, she could not believe it. It was not possible; men did not become horses, simply by putting on a skin.
The horse took a step in her direction. Then another, and another. It moved slowly as if recognizing that she was frightened, so skittish she might turn and run. Not that she thought she could. Crawl, the best she could manage at the moment, was to crawl away, and she was not sure she could even manage that.
