Honoring Freedom (Cowboys of Sagebrush Rose #3)

Chapter Seven

Over the course of the evening Keller had caught Freedom glancing down at the ring he’d returned to her. He wondered if her mind conjured up memories from the past or did the metal feel uncomfortable circling her finger. Maybe he was just picturing the excitement she felt when he returned it, but she wasn't one to show much emotion usually.

Even though she was with three smiling cowboys, she didn't let on whether she was enjoying the chat or not. However, with no doubt, the towering cowboys with shit-eating grins, who must be brothers because of their similar physical appearances, were hoping they left a good impression.

Swallowing a gulp of his beer from the Solo cup, Keller continued to watch the woman who held his interest. She looked beautiful tonight. Hell, he couldn’t think of a time when she hadn’t looked amazing, but tonight, she had a glow about her and he wasn’t the only man who noticed. When the three brothers strolled away, along came another, and another after him, until Keller’s resentment faded. She didn’t seem the slightest bit interested in any of the cowboys which weighed in Keller’s favor.

The last thing he needed was to get involved with her again, but he’d never been that smart. They’d been flirting since their scrambled egg dinner and he was eating it up. In fact, there were a few things he wouldn’t mind eating.

He wasn’t sure if he'd get another shot.

Turning back the clock couldn’t happen, but he’d once heard his Pa say, “Today is always a new day for new beginnings.”

Keller wouldn’t mind fate giving him a second chance.

He felt he knew Freedom, and yet, after the few serious conversations they’d had over the last few days he realized there were things he’d missed back in the day. In his defense, a twenty-something didn’t listen as well as a thirty-something does. His contract in the Rangers, then college, had taught him a thing or two about listening. Not listening could have cost him his life in the Middle East and he would have been sent home from college with his tail tucked between his legs if he hadn’t learned to communicate better.

When he found something he wanted, he learned everything about it.

Well, he really wanted Freedom, so he studied her.

The cowboy, whose boots looked like they had never touched the ground, handed her a fruity drink. As she took a sip, he started rambling on with a story that mostly seemed to amuse himself. She only half paid attention, occasionally glancing over her shoulder.

Who was she looking at?

Curious, Keller searched the bar. There were a group a men laughing and carrying on. No one stuck out to Keller.

Locking his gaze back on Freedom, he seriously couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was a goddess with long, flowing hair with tight curls caressing her cheeks. She disliked those curls, but Keller wanted to sink his fingers deep into the mass and fist them while he rammed in and out…

Shit.

He felt a tightness in his groin that would only embarrass him right now.

Her bright blue eyes caught the overhead outdoor lighting. Her plump lips were so damn kissable. And her curves left him aching to hold her close.

There was one problem.

She was smiling again but it was directed at the tall, studly cowboy who Keller instantly hated. Lucky bastard . Keller wanted to be the only one she directed that beautiful smile at.

Freedom then glanced across the room and met Keller’s gaze as if she somehow knew he was green with envy.

He licked his suddenly dry lips. The look she wore couldn’t be described as just any look, but one full of…really? Could it be possible? She wanted to get him naked as much as he wanted to rip that dress off her curves and devour her.

Holy shit! When had things changed?

She removed her gaze from him and went back to conversing with the smooth talker across from her.

Whoa, Keller. Calm down.

He felt the urge to stand on a table and challenge every interested man in the room to a duel. God forgive him. He was one frayed nerve away from unraveling.

The need had such a tight hold on him that it cut off the oxygen to his brain.

Thankfully, Ned Cooper, an old buddy approached Keller and occupied his mind. They talked about their college days, girls they loved and lost and all the parties they used to attend. Keller didn’t remember any of the girls’ names, or even the parties. He either had a bad memory or he was preoccupied with Freedom who gave him a curious smile.

It was a good thing that they weren’t alone and had a length of planked floor between them because he would have only the filthiest of words spewing from his mouth right now because she was heading to dance with a cowboy— some cowboy. Keller didn’t care who the man was. He felt the need to rush over, scoop her over his shoulder and carry her out the door of the bar. They might make it to the truck before he did fifty sinful things to her that would tattoo a goddess blush on her cheeks.

He hoped she didn’t make the mistake of thinking he was the shy, unskilled young man he used to be.

The air flowing through the open doors rolled in and lifted the ends of her hair off her back. A good portion of her skin was exposed in the dress and his mouth watered. The cowboy she was dancing with laid his fingers on her back and Keller wanted to throat punch the man.

Forcing his beer down his throat, Keller didn’t like the anger rushing through him. He’d never been one to pick a fight. Yet, the night was young.

Ned said something and Keller blindly nodded.

“That’s wonderful. How long have you two been together?”

Keller focused on those words from his friend. He only half heard but it didn’t take genius to figure out that Ned was referring to Freedom and the fact that Keller just confirmed that they were a couple. He couldn’t recant now. “A few months,” he tossed out randomly.

“She’s quite the looker. You’re a lucky man, my friend.” Ned elbowed Keller’s shoulder. “I don’t know if I could handle another man touching a beauty like her.”

If only Ned knew…

Keller tossed his cup into a trash can and strolled over onto the dance floor. “Excuse me, I think it’s time for me to cut in,” he said brazenly to the cowboy.

The man swiped his gaze around on Keller but the taller man, not by a lot but only an inch or two, must have seen the steely glint in Keller’s eyes because he didn’t make a peep of resistance. He dipped his hat to Freedom and wisely took his leave.

Taking the man’s place, Keller wrapped his arms around her slender waist and held her close. He could feel her heat through the thin fabric of the dress and her soft gaze on him. Holding her felt right and he had a glimpse of his future, holding her every day, comforting her and protecting her, not that she needed protection.

“That was very rude of you,” she whispered.

“And it was very rude of the cowboy,” he grunted.

“What was he doing?”

“Touching you,” he said blatantly.

She closed her eyes a second as if to gain equilibrium that she’d lost under the spell of his words. “Mathew is a friend.”

“He wants more.”

“How do you know?”

“I’m a man. I know these things.” He cupped her cheek, not caring if the entire world saw. “Did I tell you how beautiful you are tonight?”

“Yes.” Her radiant smile made her eyes twinkle. “That scowl tells me you’re not enjoying yourself.”

He lowered his hand to her waist. “Immensely.” He was fully aware that his voice was tinged with the turmoil happening inside his gut.

They glided across the floor, and he kept her close by. The smell of alcohol was heavy in the air. The ranchers were starting to get drunk as was the norm at these celebrations. Most of the guests were men, and with only a handful of women there, including the bartender, Keller felt the urge to keep Freedom even closer. He knew his worries were silly, but he understood the game. When there were only a few women around, cowboys tended to make fools of themselves trying to get noticed by a pretty lady.

“How much longer do we have to stay?” he asked, noticing that the circle of men near the bar seemed to have special interest in Freedom.

“You were the one who wanted to come, remember?”

“Yeah, I remember. Are they always this…”

“Lively?”

“Probably not the word I’d use.” He noticed one of the ladies had hauled herself up on the bar to dance while a group of men watched, urging her on with their hoots and hollers.

“They tend to unwind and get carried away. They’re harmless though. At least most of them.” She laid her hand against his chest.

The song ended and another slow one started. Neither made a move to step off the floor. “I can’t see Vanhoose hobnobbing among this crowd. I’ve never seen so many pretentious wannabes in my life. And they look at you like you’re whipped topping on top of their pie of life.”

“What has come over you?” She searched his face for an answer.

“Do you really need me to answer that?”

Her gaze softened. “What were you drinking? A truth serum?”

“Why don’t we go back to the cabin and we’ll talk about this subject in great lengths.”

She took a step back. “Let me run to the restroom. I’m ready to get out of these boots.”

“Meet you at the bar,” he said and watched her weave her way through the crowd making her way toward the hallway.

Keller headed for the bar. The seats were taken so he took a spot at the end, near the group of men that had seemed to be watching Freedom. Their circle reeked of alcohol and bawdy laughter. One of them acknowledged Keller with a curt nod then went back to talking about the thoroughbred he just purchased. Feisty Homer. Keller recognized the horse’s name and had a feeling the cowboy had no clue that the horse’s health had been compromised by excessive inbreeding. That was a known issue with the breeder.

Keller rested his case. These men didn’t do their research and came to the auction just to toss money around.

He ordered a bourbon.

“She’s a fucking gem,” one of them said loud enough that Keller couldn’t help but hear.

“She’s not the hot Rose sister though,” another of the men said.

“Who are you fucking kidding? I’d sink my dick so deep between those thighs the tip would come out her mouth,” another added which caused an uproar of laughter among his buddies.

Instantly, Keller’s instincts were on high alert. The men’s crude conversation was demeaning to women, all women, but knowing they were talking about Freedom made his gut churn. He squeezed his glass until he thought it might break under his grip. Although Keller had no clue who the men were, they had to know who Keller was. He and Freedom had been the talk of the auction.

Get ahold of yourself. He didn’t care about the other men in the place who wanted her or looked at her. No one would ever appreciate her up close and personally like Keller did. They wouldn’t caress her body and her firm breasts. Squeeze her ample thighs. No one would ever watch her expression as she reached the pinnacle. To Keller, Freedom was a queen and he wanted to treat her as such. She deserved a cowboy who saw her worth and stepped up every day to show her how much he cared.

Let the men ramble.

Jackasses.

“Good luck, Harv. We all know she’d never look twice at you.” This comment caused the men to dissolve into more laughter.

“I’d fuck her, but I’d never marry a woman like her. They’re tainted. Anyone with Rose for a last name. Bossy women who don’t know their places. They all walk around like they’re too good for us, but they fuck ranch hands like a whore with missing front teeth.”

“Kent, you’ve sampled a Rose. Does it have a thorn?”

Keller glared in the direction of the five men. Which one was Kent? The tallest man among the group, the one who hadn’t said a word until then, gave a casual shrug. “It bites,” he said in a low tone.

A real ladies man alright . Keller thought as he shook his head.

“But imagine the fun.” A short stocky man with pockmarked skin licked his lips. “Thorns and all.”

“Houser, you wouldn’t know what to do with pussy that good if it crawled onto your face and meowed at you,” another jeered.

“Fuck you!” The man called Houser groaned and turned so red that the pits in his face looked like puddles of lava.

Keller’s patience thinned. He realized starting a scene wouldn’t go over well with Freedom or Sam. Keller reminded himself that he’d been around a lot of big talkers who wanted to flex in front of their buddies. The liquid courage didn’t help.

“Hey, Freedom,” one of the men leered.

Keller stood to attention. Freedom was coming his direction but was waylaid by the group’s attention.

The one named Kent took a step outside of the circle and greeted her with a dip of his Stetson. “You’re looking wonderful. How’s my horse these days?”

Gritting his teeth, Keller set his glass down. He didn’t even like that the man had her name on his lips. He also didn’t appreciate how the man looked at her and the things he must be thinking.

“Evening, Kent,” she said with an undercurrent of animosity. “My horse is doing very well, just as we knew he would.”

The peanut gallery suddenly became incredibly quiet.

“Have you considered my offer?”

“Buying Requiem? No, I haven’t. He’s not up for sale just as I told you the previous times you asked,” Freedom said stiffly.

“Don’t scoff at my generosity, sweetheart. That horse was supposed to be mine.” There was a bit of impatience to the man’s tone. The tension was slowly building.

Keller took a step, but still stayed far enough back to allow Freedom to handle the situation.

“If he was supposed to be yours you’d have him.”

“We all know you pulled in a favor to buy him out from underneath me,” Kent didn’t bother to hide his irritation.

“That tactic is something you should know very well considering you’ve made it your life’s work to slither in and steal ranchers’ land right out from underneath them.” Freedom wasn’t pulling any punches.

Kent chuckled. “Don’t be heartbroken when one day Sagebrush Rose is mine too.”

One of Kent’s buddies guffawed.

Keller still watched, waiting.

“How is Sam these days?” Kent asked. “I heard about the heart attack. What a shame.”

“He’s doing wonderful. Stronger than ever.” She started to take a step past Kent, but he blocked her path. “Is there something I can help you with?” She lifted her chin, holding the man’s gaze.

“How about a dance, Freedom? I promise I can dance better than any of these bastards. If you catch my drift?”

She smiled but it was more of a pity grin. “I don’t dance with insects. I smash them under my boot,” she said smoothly.

The men laughed.

“We can work all this hostility out in a more productive way. It’s time you stopped slumming and got a taste of pure cowboy.”

And that was how the man ended up on the floor, holding his bloody nose, and two men on each of Keller’s arms holding him back from tearing Kent apart limb by limb.

Somewhere in Keller’s brain he realized they’d gained the attention of others.

“What the hell’s your problem?” The man scrambled to his feet, still holding his nose. Blood leaked through his fingers like a sieve.

"I believe you understand what my issue is," Keller said coldly.

“Do you know who I am?”

“No, and I don’t give a damn,” Keller tried jerking his arms free but the men, and now a third had been added, held him tight in their grips.

Kent made a sound, a chuckle. Or simply a groan because he had so much blood running down his face. He crossed the short distance to Keller. Kent removed his hand from his nose and wiped it down Keller’s shirt. “You’ve made a grave mistake, Doc. Do you hear me? I eat men like you for breakfast,” he said under his breath so the bystanders couldn’t hear.

“Breakfast is at daylight, but I don’t suppose a stuffed shirt like you rolls out of bed that early,” Keller seethed.

Freedom stepped between them, giving Kent a small push. “We’ve caused enough of a scene, don’t you think?” she said through clenched teeth. “You and your friends need to back off.”

Kent and Keller were locked in a staring contest, but then Kent made a tiny motion to his guys, and they released Keller's arm while still hanging around in case a fight broke out.

“Good thing your girlfriend saved you, cowboy. I wouldn’t get too comfortable over at the ranch because when it’s in my hands I’ll see that you’re scrubbing barn floors. You certainly haven’t seen the last of me.”