Silverbow Page 3

  “Inside now,” howled Mr. Yates and nearly everyone listened. I looked to my father who was already in the cab of his truck pulling out his Browning Cynergy Classic Field that he often carried to shoot coyote. The 12 gauge was loaded and ready to rock when they approached. Without slowing the guys in the truck began to fire into the front lot of the chapel and my father’s shotgun was our only defense. A few shots hit my father’s truck and Mr. Yates took cover behind it as my father took one of the young men down with his first shot.

  The most horrible sound to ever escape me deafened Greyden as he tried to hold me back. I watched my father jerk back and the Browning slowly fall from his hands as he sunk to his knees. Mr. Yates was on him quickly and the motorcycles and truck drove on as the firing ceased. People were screaming and running around. When I finally stopped screaming I ran into the yard of the Chapel and pulled my father to my lap. A fist sized hole had been blown into his chest and he was bleeding all over his white shirt and the tie he had had me tie for him that morning. I cried, knowing there was nothing I could do. His eyes were already lifeless.

  Mr. Yates and three other men loaded my father and I into a white Yukon and drove us to the fence line of the Nellis Air Force Base where they took us to the 99th Medical Group to try and care for my father. He was already gone and I sat in a bleach white lobby crying because I knew it. Someone carried me home. I couldn’t even recall who it was. I walked up my driveway with swollen eyes and mascara stained cheeks. Greyden sat on the porch waiting for me. Rushing to help me inside, he carried me up to my bathroom and helped me clean up.

  I stood shaking in front of the mirror as I looked at the blood that coated my hands. The sticky blood seemed to glitter in the old fluorescent light of the bathroom. Greyden ran a hot bath for me and helped me out of my black dress. The dress was thick with blood that could not be seen on the black fabric but it caked my skin beneath it. I’d never wear a dress again. Greyden turned me away from the mirror and I buried my face in his chest while he removed my bra. It didn’t faze either of us that he had never seen me naked before. He helped me into the water and washed my hair for me. It was the first time in my life that I felt utterly helpless.

  I sat up in my bed trembling. My sudden stir woke Greyden and he placed a hand on my back. He didn’t have to ask what was wrong. He knew all about the bad dreams. Sadly they weren’t just dreams but the recollection of my reality. I pulled my knees to my chest and rested my head on them. Exhaling I closed my eyes and tightened my jaw. They never caught the murderers in the blue truck however Mr. Yates and his men were able to track down the four bikers. Even after beating them beyond recognition they were unable to get a word out of them about the guys in the truck. They vanished after that and had yet to be heard from or seen since.

  My father’s ashes were stored away in the shop office. I knew he was happiest in the shop. I often found myself complaining to him about things around the shop that I needed to fix or replace. We had a small family plot about an acre back from the house. A small white fence squared off the small plot and a few stones lay engraved and cold in the ground. I didn’t visit. It wasn’t my thing.

  Lifting my head I looked out the window. The moon lit the night sky and a stiff breeze rattled a loose pane. I’d get around to fixing it one day but it was honestly comforting. It had been loose since I could remember. This had been my grandma’s room and then my father’s. After his death, I took up the master bedroom and packed all his things away. They were collecting dust in the attic with boxes of other family keepsakes now. I stretched back out and sunk back into the sheets. Friday was over the horizon and the shop would be closed. I had a few errands to run but I planned on sleeping in. I listened to the rattling pane until I drifted off again.

  CHAPTER 3

  I rolled my eyes through barely open lids and pulled the blue sheet over my head. The sun poured through the big window in the room and violated my slumber. I peeked at the black alarm clock. Big red numbers told me it was almost eleven. I had managed to sleep in, good for me. Greyden had already gotten up and headed into the desert to work the fence line. I whipped the sheet off of me and sat on the edge of the bed. I enjoyed the cool hardwood floor on my bare feet. Slippers were overrated. I pulled myself from the bed and headed towards the bathroom. After brushing my teeth and all else that goes with waking up first thing in the morning, I headed back to my room to make the bed and get dressed.

  I slipped into a newer pair of Levi’s and a white long sleeved shirt with three buttons at the neck. I left them unbuttoned and grabbed my necklace off my dresser top. I reached behind my neck and blindly clasped the thin silver chain without a problem. A tiny silver rose hung daintily from it. Pops had given it to me when I turned twenty three. It was the last birthday present I ever received from him.

  I brushed my hair and pulled it back under a red and white bandana. I wanted to take Pops’ bike out today and that would require a helmet. There wasn’t a helmet law in this town, hell there were hardly any laws, but I wasn’t stupid. I grabbed a pair of socks and headed down the narrow staircase. The house was quiet and the sun lit up every room. I sat at the kitchen table and put on my socks and a pair of black boots. After lacing up, I headed for the back door in the laundry room and snatched a black leather jacket off a hook on the wall. I slipped out the door, slid into the jacket and removed the keys from its pocket

  My boots were heavy as I crossed the yard towards the garage. I may not park my truck in there but I did keep Dad’s motorcycle locked up in it. I shoved one of the garage doors up and rolled out the black 2000 Harley Davidson Road King Classic. After locking up the shop, I tugged on my black half shell helmet and fired her up. I headed into the main part of town and enjoyed the long straight roads. There never seemed to be more than two cars at a time on any stretch of the road in this area. I have no idea how the people in big cities deal with traffic.

  Five miles later I arrived at what most called “the strip”. A small grocery store, a diner called “Shady’s”, leather shop, tobacco shop and a small drug store with a little bit of everything strung out down one side of the street. On the other side there were a few odds and ends shops and a large building that actually housed what little schooling there was in town. The kids had to go somewhere. I spent every single year of school in that building. I was so happy when my senior year rolled around and I knew I would never have to walk back into that brick bore as a student again.

  I parked the bike outside of the grocery store and removed my helmet. I pulled off the jacket and shoved it into one of the big saddle bags. It was in the seventies already and I always enjoyed the crisp air. I hooked my keys to my belt loop and made sure my wallet was in the back pocket of my jeans. I leaned into the store door, opening it and waving to Mrs. Yates who sat behind the counter on a stool. She was a pretty woman; an adulteress whore, but a pretty woman. Her raven hair was always styled perfectly and big like the women in the raunchy magazines. Go figure.

  Today she was wearing a tight black shirt and jeans that looked spray painted on. Sitting with her legs crossed, tits perked high and a magazine in her lap. She thumbed through the pages as she chewed on her lower wine stained lip and hardly loaned her hazel gaze to me as I entered. Mr. Yates was still a bottle abuser and I was pretty sure she had stopped fucking the preacher and was now seeing the math and science teacher from across the street, Mr. Hines.

  Mr. Hines was in his early thirties and quite a looker. He was average height, lean and muscular with short stylish brown hair and baby blue eyes. He was the type of guy that your mom would try to set you up with because he was a nice boy. Then you’d get him home and he’d be a freak in the bedroom. I would know but that was before Greyden and I. Our fling only lasted for a couple of weeks. He was too book-smart and lacked in the common sense department. I guess I preferred street smart over a know-it-all.

  I picked up a couple of items and kept my collection small so I could get it home on the bike. While I was i
n the back of the small store Mr. Hines sauntered through the doors and confirmed my suspicions. I smirked as I listened to their quiet sweet talk and he leaned against the counter and watched her Dolly Parton implants more than he did her eyes. Mrs. Yates seemed to forget that I was there when she picked up his hand and wrapped her mouth around his finger all the way down to the third knuckle and slowly pulled it free. I fought back the vomit and saved her from mopping.

  Clearing my throat I approached them and their little over-the-counter affair halted. Mr. Hines stepped out of my way and to the side with a smile.

  “Dakota, you look well,” he said and flashed his charming smile. He always greeted me like this because when I grew tired of him I told him I was sick until he got a clue and stopped calling. I arched a brow at him and fished my wallet out while Mrs. Yates rang up my items and stared us both down.

  “Never been better, Adam. Looks like you found a new playmate. Have you shown her your rocket science trick yet,” I asked and smirked at him. His smile faded and Mrs. Yates snatched the twenty dollar bill out of my hand that I had plucked from my leather wallet. I turned to look at her and gushed sarcastically, “He cums all over the place, it’s a grand ole time!” She dropped my change on the counter and gave me a look that could kill an army. I wasn’t scared of this bitch and she wouldn’t do shit or I would tell her husband what I knew. I collected my bag and sauntered out the door merrily.

  After loading the saddle bags with my groceries I glanced back at the shop to see the “Be Back in Five” sign taped to the window and the door locked. Shaking my head, I crossed the street and entered a small clothing store. A good friend of mine and her family owned the shop and I came in frequently for cheap shirts I could ruin in the shop and new jeans when I needed them. I wasn’t the town’s fashonista. This town was lucky to see me in anything pink when I felt like dressing nice and I would still be wearing jeans and boots.

  Ashley was in the back folding shirts and sticking price tags on them when the door chimed. She greeted me with wide brown eyes and a huge smile. Her chestnut angled bob swung at chin length as she rounded some shelves and hurried across the shop to hug me. I hadn’t come into the store to see her in over two weeks. I guess she missed me. I glanced down at her globe for a belly and smiled up at her.

  “I’m ready to pop, I know,” she said and placed her hands on her pregnant stomach. She was married to Rich DeHaven whose family owned DeHaven Tobacco up the road. They were a good pair, I thought. She was the typical happy go lucky cheerleader type and he was a dumb but loving jock. He had played football for the Nevada Wolf Pack at the University of Nevada for four years and then blew his knee at his last game. He finished up his business degree on crutches and came home to marry his hometown sweetheart. Ashley worked at the shop half of the week and helped out with the little ones at the school the other half. She was going to be a great mom, I was sure of that.

  “Whats on sale,” I smiled and glanced around her. She smiled, appreciating the lack of baby talk. I knew she had to be tired of it by now. Leading me back to the table she had been working at, she showed me the discounts and I collected a few shirts for Greyden and myself. We spent almost forty-five minutes sharing a little gossip and then I checked out. After hugging her neck again and making my way out to my bike, I was on the road.

  Not wanting to go home just yet, I headed for the bar. In route, I passed the inn and thought of the stranger. There wasn’t a blue Chevelle in the parking lot at the inn…but there was one at the bar when I arrived.

  CHAPTER 4

  I leaned into the heavy door with my hip as I pulled my jacket off and made a point not to look for Murphy as I spilled into the nearly empty bar. There were a few lunchtime regulars at the bar and Laney was drying glasses. She offered a smile and then nodded her head in the direction of my table in the back. I already knew who would be sitting there waiting. I honestly found myself a little pissed off that he was making himself at home on my turf. One conversation and he was ready to be pals. I wrinkled my nose and hung my jacket on a rack by the front door. Turning, my boots led me to my table and Murphy sat smirking, waiting.

  “Good afternoon,” he greeted me with his low growly tone and kicked a chair out for me. Now he was taking my moves, slacker. I sunk into the chair, crossed my legs and held my hand out to Laney who approached with my beer as I expected her to. Smiling at her and catching the scent of her violet perfume, I watched her walk away and then turned back to Murphy. His eyes were already all over me and I tried not to notice.

  “How are you sleeping at the inn,” I asked and rested my wrist on my knee leaving my beer bottle to hang limp between my fingers, tapping my shin. My other hand lifted to the rose around my neck, something I often did without realizing it. I watched his pale grey eyes follow my hand to my chest and eye the charm.

  “I don’t need much sleep,” he replied with his eyes still on the silver rose. I dropped the rose and lowered my hand to my lap. “I stayed here for a while last night and the little lady behind the bar had to show me the door. Drove out to the middle of nowhere, fired a few rounds and watched the sun come up.” His rough voice was slightly arousing. I found I liked listening to him speak. His accent was slightly southern but sounded closer to those on the east coast rather than from around here. I made a mental note that he carried a gun. I hadn’t expected anything less.

  “I did laundry,” I replied and smirked as I sipped my beer and watched his lips peel back over his flawless teeth. His grin held the promise of wicked things

  “Is that what they are calling it these days?” Wandering grey eyes slid to my rose again and then to my eyes.

  “Desert rose,” he said in almost a whisper. I nodded and didn’t offer him the story behind the charm. It wasn’t his business. I shifted my gaze to the bar as I turned up my bottle and finished its contents. I heard the sound of shifting leather as he moved but I didn’t turn to watch him. I didn’t want him to get the idea that I was jumpy or wary. I could feel this warmth as he leaned forward in his seat to get closer to me. I slightly rolled my eyes, now watching the television behind the bar. I was sure he was going to use the excuse of looking at my charm to get a better shot of my chest.

  I shifted my gaze to find he wasn’t that close to me at all and his eyes were closed. I watched his nose flair as I had the evening before. He was taking in my scent again. Tilting my head, I watched him for a moment and also wondered how he radiated such heat. He lowered his head and sat back in his seat again. Big hands reached for the Marlboro Reds on the table and fished one out. I watched as his Zippo appeared and lit the cigarette. He tossed the lighter to the table top and I could see the image of a howling wolf engraved on its side.

  “Would you like to check out the shop this afternoon,” I asked him trying to sever the tension building silence between the two of us. “I don’t take customers on Fridays. I usually work on my own truck but I would love for you to get the feel of the shop before I open on Monday.” He took a long drag and blew the smoke away from me. I appreciated that.

  “Sure thing, babe,” he replied and I felt the heat. The heat confused me because it was radiating from both my temper and my sexuality. I hated it when men gave women little pet names. I was the typical woman who would give a man a black eye for calling her “baby”. Well, I would probably shoot off his pinky toe. And at the same time the way he said “babe” sent a ripple through my middle. I’d save a bullet today and he would keep his little toe. I almost wanted to hear him say it again. Confused with myself and my sudden attraction; I exhaled heavily and pouted in an attempt to avoid biting my lower lip. I watched him shift slightly away from me as if my emotions were reaching out for him and he smirked.

  “Care to follow me back or can you find it on your own,” I asked and glanced at my empty bottle. One beer was enough this early in the day. I sat the bottle down and climbed to my feet. Standing before him, I felt his warmth even more as my knee brushed his. He sure was one hot nature
d man. He turned his eyes up to meet mine and I noticed a second of shock in his gaze. It faded and he gave me a simple nod which didn’t answer the question I had asked. I didn’t bother repeating myself.

  Grabbing my keys off the table, I turned and headed for my jacket. Slipping into it, I heard him clear his throat and stand up. I turned to watch him drain his beer, grab his things and toss a twenty dollar bill on the table. I waved to Laney and made my exit.

  My boots scuffed over the planks of the porch and violated the sand on the dusty parking lot. I straddled the Harley and took my time grabbing my helmet. Before I could get my key in the bike Murphy walked out the door and stretched his arms up over his head, looking like he had just woken up. Worn jeans hugged muscular thighs and hung perfectly over his black boots. His shirt lifted slightly as his arms rose and gave me a glance at his defined lower torso. His boots thudded beneath him as he headed for his Chevelle and climbed in. He was a big man but he carried himself with a rugged grace that made him easy on the eyes. He let out a deep yawn that gave way to what sounded like a deep growl and shut the blue door behind him.

  The bike purred to life beneath me and I cast a glance at Murphy before I pulled out. His gaze met mine over the top of his cheap black shades and the look gave me chills. With the bike alive between my thighs and the dangerous and promising look in his eyes, my passion began to ache. I felt my teeth pull at my bottom lip and tore my eyes from his. I had to fight it. What the fuck was going on?