- •Violence: There may be violence in this story, but not for a while, and not real graphic…I'm the squeamish type. So if you are into that sort of thing, go get your jollies elsewhere (sorry!).
- •Chapter 1
- •Chapter 2
- •Chapter 3
- •Chapter 4
- •Chapter 5
- •Chapter 6
- •Chapter 7
- •Chapter 8
- •Chapter 9
- •Chapter 10
- •Chapter 11
- •Chapter 12
- •Chapter 13
- •Chapter 14
- •Chapter 14
- •Chapter 15
- •Chapter 16
- •Chapter 17
- •Chapter 18
- •Chapter 19
- •Chapter 20
- •Chapter 21
- •Chapter 22
- •Chapter 23
- •Chapter 24
- •Chapter 25
- •Chapter 26
- •Chapter 27
- •Chapter 28
- •Chapter 29
- •Chapter 30
- •Chapter 31
- •Chapter 32
- •Chapter 33
- •Chapter 34
- •Chapter 35
- •Chapter 36
- •Chapter 37
- •Chapter 38
- •Chapter 39
- •Chapter 40
- •Chapter 41
- •Chapter 42
- •Another deep chord of thunder rattled the windows, punctuating her observation.
- •Chapter 43
- •Chapter 44
- •Chapter 45
- •Chapter 46
- •Chapter 47
- •Chapter 48
- •Lex leaned closer against the wall, hearing the three men move nearer and nearer to the kitchen doorway.
- •Chapter 49
- •Chapter 50
- •Chapter 51
- •Chapter 52
- •Chapter 53
- •Chapter 54
- •Chapter 55
- •Chapter 56
- •Chapter 57
- •Chapter 58
- •Chapter 59
- •I want to thank all the Pups for their unwavering support during this story. You guys are the greatest!!!
Chapter 2
In a large ranch house nestled in the foothills a few miles away, someone else was cursing the continuing rain. Lexington Walters' long frame was sprawled comfortably on the porch swing; muddy boots propped up on the rail that outlined the large wraparound porch. While they always needed rain, she knew that storms such as this one tended to cause problems with the fence that surrounded the ranch.
At twenty-eight, Lexington Walters had been running the Rocking W ranch for ten years, since her father had left for a rodeo and never returned. Oh, they still received the occasional postcard and once in a great while he would actually use a telephone, usually asking for a "loan" until his next ride. Lex felt she owed the man something, since in her mind she was the reason he continued to travel. She knew Rawson Walters had trouble looking at his own daughter, since her face reminded him of what he had lost. Lexington was the spitting image of Rawson's beloved late wife, Victoria - from her electric blue eyes to her long midnight-kissed hair. The only features she had of her father were his temper and his propensity to get into trouble. Every time Rawson looked at his only daughter, he saw the woman that he lost when Lex was only four. Victoria died while giving birth to their third child, Louis. It wasn't noticeable when Lex was a youngster, but by the time she was a teenager, Rawson's heart ached each time he looked at his daughter. On her eighteenth birthday, unable to stand the pain any longer, Rawson Walters did the only thing he could think of - he turned over control of the Rocking W to Lex, and left to re-join the rodeo circuit.
Releasing a heavy sigh, the dark haired woman stood up, stretched her arms over her head, and grasped one of the supports above her. Using her arms to straighten her body out, Lex was gratified to hear the gentle popping as her spine slid back into place. Twisting her head first one way and then the other, Lex released the support beam and stomped into the house. She grabbed her long brown duster from its hook in the hallway, and then snatched a bedraggled black cowboy hat from the hook beside it.
"Martha!" she yelled down the hallway, "I'm gonna go and check the fence down by the creek." She crammed the dusty hat onto her head, and was almost back to the door when a heavyset woman in her mid-fifties came scurrying out of the kitchen.
"Lexington Marie Walters! Don't you be bellowing in this house… I raised you better than that!" she snapped, wiping her hands on a dishtowel.
Lex hastily removed her hat, looking properly chastised. "I'm sorry, Martha," she deferred to the housekeeper, "I just didn't know exactly where you were, that's why I yelled." She smiled charmingly. "It won't happen again, I promise." She finished, placing the disreputable hat back on her head.
Martha just shook her head and smiled. She'd been the housekeeper here at the Rocking W for almost twenty-five years, hiring on when Mrs. Walters became pregnant with little Louis. She treated Lex as she would her own daughter, since Rawson had no idea how to raise a little girl. As the child grew up, he spent less and less time with her, letting the rowdy ranch hands becomes her surrogate family. Although Martha had tried to show little Lex ladylike ways, the older she got, the more like the hired hands she became. Martha's heart had nearly broken in two when Rawson left behind the short note giving Lex complete control over the ranch, not even having the decency to ask the girl if that was what she wanted. Only Martha knew what young Lexington had wanted to do with her life - go to college and become a veterinarian. But, her father's desertion had nipped that dream in the bud, the housekeeper remembered. Lex only ran the ranch out of some misplaced sense of duty. Now ten years had passed, and the ranch was thriving under her leadership. The men respected her, and her only problem seemed to be her obstinate older brother, Hubert, who questioned her at every turn.
Martha reached out and began buttoning the duster closed. "Try not to get too wet, Lex." She said, smiling at the consternation that crossed the younger woman's face. "You know how long it took you to get over that last bout of the flu." She stepped back with a stern look. "And don't you dare be late for dinner… I'm cooking a big batch of chili, and I'm even making your favorite cornbread to go with it." With this, Martha turned around and headed back towards the kitchen. "And don't you be clompin' back in here with muddy boots… you're not too big for me to take my spoon to!" she bustled back through the kitchen doorway.
Lex looked after her with a fond smile. "Yes, ma'am," she muttered, then turned back around and headed through the front door.