Mom married Pappy's son, Herald, when I was ten. Then our merged family, including my older step-brother, Able, moved to Texas. The minute I first stepped out onto the dusty soil of Pappy's stud ranch, smelled horses, and met the old man—I fell in love with the place. Maybe even him.
It didn't take long to find out Pappy's tack room in the second barn was always locked. There'd been times Able and I had wanted to steal a peek inside, but I respected Pappy too much to piss him off—he had a soft heart, but a temper that ran hotter than the Texas sun in August. All in all, Able eventually tried to pick the lock without me. When Pappy caught him...let's just say I was glad I hadn't participated. Able was banned from the stables by his
own
grandpa.
Pappy always watched me closely, even while I mucked stalls. He protected me, guided me, taught me, bolstered my confidence around large animals. He was the wisest, smartest, toughest man alive, and even now, looked like a weathered forty even though he was over sixty.
In my early teens he'd stand behind me to make sure I didn't fall when I climbed round-pen rails and curiously watched stallions hook mares. He'd whisper close to my ear and explain things as the mating happened. His raspy southern accent would lower by octaves until I was straining back against his chest to hear him, the area between my legs warming at the change in his voice. I liked that heat I felt, and how his peppermint breath always stirred the wispy baby-blond hairs around my neck. He sucked on mint drops from sunup to sundown.
Mom and Herald knew I loved the ranch, and that I one day wanted to run it for Pappy unlike Able, who resented my relationship with the old man. When I was seventeen, both parents were enraged when I refused to plan for college. Pappy took up my defense. He'd said I could move in with him after I graduated high school. If I proved myself, I'd have an inheritance.
Now, the night of my eighteenth birthday, I made the last rounds in the second barn. Yup, the tack room was still locked. Tomorrow was my graduation ceremony, but I planned on being here in the morning to learn the summertime feeding routine before I left to collect my diploma.
Peering into the horse's stalls at the water levels, I noticed the damn trough that
still
had a broken auto-fill sensor needed to be topped off. I headed for the nearest bucket, started filling it.
I was eighteen now, had never been kissed let alone had a boyfriend. Pappy always complimented my blond hair and big green eyes, but said that boyfriends were distractions. I needed to focus on taking over the family business.
Anyhow, I was about to pour the last bucket of water into the trough, when Pappy walked confidently into the open space between the two rows of eight stalls on either side of me.
"You're a damn hard worker, Amy." He sounded impressed. It was hard to impress him.
I poured the water without looking or responding, feeling his eyes on me. As usual. But I liked that he cared. I hadn't ever been truly hurt out here, other than minor bruises and bumps, all because he took the time to teach me how to handle myself. I'd grown a steely spine as a result.
"Don't you think you should be celebratin' your birthday?" he asked, his Texas drawl like warm caramel to my Californian ears. Again, as usual, he sucked on a peppermint drop.
"But I
am
, Pappy. No other place I'd rather be." I finally turned to face him, taking in the rough growth along his sharp jaw, speckled with gray. He had to shave every morning, no doubt.
The older man that I'd worshiped for years still had a full head of hair. I always coyly joked he should stop wearing his cowboy hat to show it off. The spots that weren't ashy were almost black. His lean body was solid and broader than most men his age. He still seemed like the most powerful man on earth to me. I'd seen pictures of him younger. He'd have put the mid-century actor, Montgomery Cliff, to shame.
"No other place, huh?" His thick ashy eyebrows rose. "No boy you'd rather be with? Billy, Pete or Buck not appealin' enough for you?"
I laughed at him mentioning his stable boys. I walked up to Pappy with the empty bucket in my hand and a humorous sparkle in my eyes.
"Damn, you're beautiful." That silver gaze kept roving over my denim jeans and t-shirt.
I couldn't explain the sudden heat that made my cheeks feel freshly shucked. Or the sudden spear of something I didn't know about, a moisture that pooled between my legs that only happened when Pappy was around. My body was alive with restless energy.
"You know I don't play with boys, Pappy," I nervously huffed, shifting on my feet.
"Cuz you're such a focused girl, Amy." His pale silver eyes met mine, those pupils large and making him look like he could rearrange the earth's gravitational pull, they were so heavy. "You straighten out...the female issues...?"
I lightly laughed again at the discomfort in his voice, reaching forward to squeeze his hand. "About a month ago. The doctor gave me a prescription." Up until I'd been on birth control, my periods and moods had been shaky. The leveling of my hormones helped a lot.
The hand I held in mine stiffened while he looked down,
into
me. I was so close to him, I felt the heat from his body as well as his wisdom, his life experience, streaming into my eyes.
"What kind of prescription, hon?"
"The kind that makes women..." My cheeks were going to set fire to the hay loft.
"Birth control?" he supplied.
I nodded, tucking my lower lip between my teeth, anxious. He was stubborn, always said my generation didn't have any work ethic, that we took too many pills and didn't know about consequences. Maybe that's why I tried to impress, gain his approval. I wanted to be worthy, another reason I didn't dally with boys. Well that, and the fact he provided a high standard.
"That changes things," he mumbled, but clearly enough for me to hear.
I lifted the bucket to signal I had to put it away, moved to pull my other hand from his grip. But he didn't let me go, and I immediately met his gaze in surprise.
"Tonight's special, Amy. You're eighteen now." Those silver eyes turned into smoldering coals. "And I want to give you somethin', which is why I'm out here."
The first thought that came to mind was the tack room. I hesitantly glanced at the locked door behind me, located square underneath the hay loft, then back at him.
"Yup. You got it right," he stated, low and sultry. "Before I let you inside, you need to agree to somethin'."
I saw the heat in his gaze, how the wrinkles tensed around his full lips. His expression enflamed the heat between my legs into a full wildfire. It was the same reaction I'd had when he explained how the stallion's 'cock' entered the mare's 'sweet spot' and he left a 'gift' behind.
"What?" I hated the breathless quality in my voice. I sounded weak, indecisive.
He kept his hold on my free hand and leaned in close, his scent so rugged. Like salt and leather and crisp soap. And peppermint. He might've been old, but he smelled virile as a stallion. "You won't tell anybody what happens behind that door."
I shook my head, swallowing hard. I dropped the bucket, the metal handle ringing as it hit the plastic. I jumped at the sound. "Don't you mean don't tell anybody what I see?"
"That too," he smiled softly, his other work-roughened hand slowly reaching up and cupping my cheek. "Just don't tell about—what happens, what you see, or what you feel."
"Okay," I breathed out, wondering if my limbs would vibrate right off my body. Dang.
This wasn't supposed to—I shouldn't be feeling so...alert or aware of myself. Not around Pappy. He was the man I admired most. Without another word, he led us to the door. His free hand reached into his Levis and took a single key from a back pocket.
When I walked into the room in front of him, I took in the cozy smell of old leather and jasmine. There was a bouquet of my favorite flower in a vase on the small desk to my left on top of what looked like a closed book. The financials, no doubt.
"You got me jasmine," I whispered, touched. Most days he was gruff, had a sandpaper-personality. I was surprised a man so full of grit and abrasive qualities could be so considerate.
My gaze wandered over the hooks on the walls, the plethora of prize-bridles he'd won before I was born, decades ago. What surprised me most was the double bed set low on a flat wooden frame in the corner to my right, with built-in bookshelves that extended up to the eight foot high ceiling. There was enough space in here for a small party.
"You sleep in here sometimes?" I asked, turning to him as he locked the deadbolt.
That was odd. For some reason the area between my legs moistened more. Maybe in response to the whole atmosphere. Pappy had prepared the room for its reveal, and this showed me he cared. No matter how hard he pushed me to get tougher around horses, he loved me.
He rubbed the back of his neck and glanced at me through hooded lids. "Temperpedics are good for the sore joints and all."
"Translation: You don't want people to know that you're getting old? This mattress has to be brand spanking new because the mice haven't eaten it yet."
He laughed at my practical comment, a hardy sound that came from his chest. "Yeah. But there's somethin' else I do in here. It's the reason there're jasmine on the desk, on a regular special order with the florist. There's always jasmine in here."
"You know they're my favorite..."
"You're my favorite, Amy." He pointed to his bulging crotch.
I didn't understand. "Pappy?"
In an instant his chest was flush with mine, that peppermint breath panting down, his hands grasping my waist. Those full lips surrounded by wrinkles and age were on mine, pressing, pushing for something. This was my first kiss. I was innocent and he knew that, even though a kiss was hard to deny. I tried to open my mouth to speak, but his tongue filled my orifice.
And then I realized. He wanted to mount me. Like a stallion ready to fill his mare with that 'gift' Pappy always talked to me about. He'd also called it sap, sticky juice, baby batter.
He finally lifted his head, piercing me with pale eyes. "I'm the stallion, darlin'."
"And I'm the mare?" I tried to sound cheeky, sassy. Like I knew what to expect or what was going on. All that occurred to me in the moment was that I felt alive, livened. My veins pumped fire. A strike of adrenaline spiked the bottom of my stomach, then I looked up at him with clueless eyes.
