Ruling Rachel Read online

  Ruling Rachel

  12 Naughty Days of Christmas 2020

  Published by Blushing Books

  An Imprint of

  ABCD Graphics and Design, Inc.

  A Virginia Corporation

  977 Seminole Trail #233

  Charlottesville, VA 22901

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  ©2020

  All rights reserved.

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  No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. The trademark Blushing Books is pending in the US Patent and Trademark Office.

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  Yasmine Hyde

  Ruling Rachel

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  Ebook ISBN: 978-1-64563-849-0

  v1

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  Cover Art by ABCD Graphics & Design

  This book contains fantasy themes appropriate for mature readers only. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the author's advocating any non-consensual sexual activity.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Yasmine Hyde

  Blushing Books

  Blushing Books Newsletter

  Chapter 1

  White flakes drifted from the sky and brought with it a sense of wonder and magic. The air around the land had a temperateness to it, and a freshness that ignited the soul with excitement - her soul. First snowfall of the season was top of the list of her most favorite things. It was a phenomenon to her how the snow could fall, and it was warm at the same time. As she watched the lovely snowflakes through the window of the Tucker family front room, the sight tempted her. Unable to fight the lure any longer, she rose from her seat and rushed to the door for her boots, scarf, and wool cape. The cape had originally been Sophia’s but when she got a new one last year, she’d offered the old one, still in impeccable condition, to Isabel who had gladly taken it, and in turn, had given it to Rachel.

  Rachel allowed a smile to move across her face as she inhaled the crisp air on the porch. She lowered her eyelids for a moment and just appreciated the stillness all around her and the brush of the flakes that dusted over her skin like soft kisses. Someone had once told her when she was much younger that there was a belief that if you made a wish during the first snowfall and believed it with your heart, a snow angel would cause it to come true. Years past she’d requested simple things of the snow angels of winter, like employment after her papa died or last year she’d needed a new pair of boots so she wouldn’t have to spend the money to have her old pair resoled for the second time. She’d gotten a nice holiday bonus from Mr. and Mrs. Reynolds that covered the price of a new pair. She’d smiled through each blister that arose on her feet during the first week she broke them in.

  Tonight, she was making a different kind of wish, one from the center of her heart. For over a year, she’d had a longing for one man in town, who didn’t seem to know she existed. A few times when she’d seen him in town or at a town event, he’d smiled her way. The man had a smile that lit the world up around her and caused her heart to flutter, and her blood to run hot in her body and pool in her core, making her throb in her secret places. She didn’t fool herself to believe that his grin meant anything more than courtesy. The only consolation was that she had never seen him escorting another woman about town, work seemed to be the only thing on his mind. He was dedicated in helping his boss keep his dairy farm prosperous.

  Slowly, she opened her eyes. Across the field, she could see the side of the barn to her left and the back of the main house further off. There were three windows there. The only one that was lit in the low light of the evening was the last one, Sophia’s room. The other bedroom in the house belonged to Isabel, the oldest of the Reynolds’ daughter, who was married and pregnant now, her old room window was on the end of the front of the house. She could not see it from the small servants’ house where she rented a room from Mrs. Tucker and her family.

  However, Rachel didn’t need to see that there was no light in that window. There had not been any light in that room since Isabel, a person Rachel considered a friend, had married Cary Brown months ago. She missed her friend, even though she’d been invited for supper on two Sundays with Isabel and her new family. She still missed their daily talks, but seeing her friend, with her husband and children and one on the way, only made Rachel’s heart ache to have her own. However, she only had eyes for one man, and that man didn’t seem to know that she was alive.

  The family, she rented to room from were on their five-day holiday that the Reynolds family granted them every year. During this time, Rachel’s work increased two-fold as she took care of Mrs. Tucker’s work cooking the meals, as well as the cleaning that was her own responsibility. Rachel got a few days in the summer and she usually spent that in Topeka with her mother and sister. However, Mr. Reynold’s clerk was courting her sister, Vera, who worked for Mrs. Livingston at the boarding house, and Rachel expected an announcement by the first snow melting of her sister’s wedding.

  Fastening the two buttons at the top of her woolen cape, Rachel descended the two stairs before the door. When she stepped onto the hard-packed ground, she pushed thoughts of Vera out of her mind. She just wanted to enjoy a walk through the first snowfall, soon there would be so much snow on the ground, and the air would feel like icy blades piercing through layers of clothes and boots. Most townsfolk kept inside when they could, to keep out of the bitter cold and the deep snow.

  She looked left toward the way that led to the front of the home and the wide well-worn path that went to the main road. Inhaling more to the sweet cool air, she blinked away the flakes that had settled on her lashes. Glancing in the other direction, she decided she wanted to keep to herself for the walk. If she went toward the front, then perhaps Peter would see her and decide to accompany her. Not planning to be gone long, she wanted be alone for her wintery stroll. She rarely got time by herself, she was either at work in the Reynolds family’s L-shaped large home, with people all around, or in Mr. Tucker’s house where she rented the room. With the cook’s husband and children about, Rachel was glad she at least had her own room. Her mind made up, she headed toward the tree line at the back of the property.

  Humming, she began her walk, then softly sang the jungle bell song, as she thought of it. But she knew it was really titled One-Horse Open Sleigh and had been written by James Lord Pierpone in 1857. She had learned the song from a winter booklet Sophia had ordered a couple years back. The Reynolds family always held a holiday dinner and gathering where all the staff, and staff family were invited. There were always games and caroling, their voices accompanied by Mr. Reynolds playing the mandolin. Her mother and sister even came. Each year, a few days after the gathering, Mrs. Tucker and her family left to spend the holidays with her family a few miles outside of Kansas City.

  Snow crunched under Rachel’s boots as she made her way across the land. She thought about her wish that she would make that night and had to admit to herself that she was nervous. She usually was uneasy each time she made a first snow fall wish, but tonight she experienced more trepidation, because she understood her heart would ache for a while if nothing came of this wish. Even being afraid, she stopped in the middle of the field, far enough away from the house to ensure she was not overheard, and spoke her wish aloud.

  Tipping her head back far, she tried to capture every flake she could, in hopes it would help bring her entreaty to pass. “I wish that Lyle would finally see me, desire to court me and ask Mama for my hand.”
With an exhale, she lowered her chin as she lifted one side of the outer garment to her face to wipe it. She wasn’t trying to catch a chill, just a husband. She continued toward the tree line at her right.

  After a while, she stopped and looked up beyond the trees into the evening sky that had turned a dark smoke gray of the coming night instead of the bluish tinge of the earlier hue. She had not meant to stay out so long, carried away by the liberty in her free time. She was more than a few miles away from the Reynolds’ property. The snow was still falling, even as nighttime fell around the land. Pivoting back in the direction she’d come; she made her way back, hugging the edge of the trees.

  It was becoming colder, and the snow begun to fall harder. She dragged the cape tighter around her shoulders and folded her hands beneath the layer. Even with darkness falling, she was not nervous; she was familiar with this area. Isabel had enjoyed long walks in the evening after dinner and often Rachel had kept her company. The flakes were bigger now, the snow heavier than when she had originally started out and it was making it hard for her to see where she was headed. Deciding it would be better for her to walk through the trees instead of staying out in the open, she angled her direction to allow the branches to provide cover for her.

  She’d just stepped into the woods when she noticed the glow of a light. The arc of light made her sure it was a campfire. Curious to which of the townsfolk were out in the snow at this time, she wondered if perhaps she wasn’t the only one with old wives-tale tradition. Not wanting to disturb their evening adventures, she crept along softly. Before she had journeyed more than a few feet into the thick trees, her ears became alert to the sound of lowing. She frowned with curiosity of the out of place noise she’d heard.

  Who would have cattle out here now? Were the animals lost?

  She continued to follow the resonance of the big beasts, as she weaved her way through the big oak trees. She came upon the four steers, each with a little dusting of snow on their back that had shaken down from the thick canopy of trees overhead. As she moved closer, they shifted their big bulk, crunching fallen leaves and small branches under hooves as they stared up at her with expectancy. “What are you all doing here?”

  A few moos were her response.

  The tethers from the cattle necks to the thick base of a tree told her that they had not wandered, but had been brought there. Placing a calm hand on the wither and along the back of the first one she came to; she took note of the brand on the rear flank. It was an SP side by side and she knew it stood for Spencer Pride Ranch. Her brow tightened, as she considered just how far they were from the Chance and Gretchen land. If someone weren’t headed to the main road that led to town, it was possible to follow the tree line toward the creek and that would lead to the Spencer Ranch miles away.

  Perhaps they planned to take them to market. With winter having arrived and a bad winter expected, why anyone would be traveling with the animals didn’t make much sense. However, she admitted that she knew next to nothing about ranching. To her way of thinking, it still was an odd way to travel when one could simply have gone out the back gated end of the property and journeyed over the wide prairie land and into the hills if they were going toward the Livestock Market in Wichita.

  The sound of low male voices a short distance away drew her around. She turned toward the fire that had originally drawn her attention and headed toward it. She knew practically all the townsfolk, having lived here all her life, and the ranch hands that worked the different properties she met at Sunday service - for those that went - and town events for the remainder.

  “How much you thinkin’ we goin’ get fur does heifers in Dale?” rasped one, making her think the rough sound was the cause of too much cheap drink shredding up a throat.

  “Ain’t no clue. Do I looks like a market dealer?”

  The conversation halted her from rounding the last tree. Even I know the difference between a female bovine and a castrated male.

  Shaking her head, she stepped closer to the tree instead, and leaned against it as she peered around the rough bark. She saw the two men sitting on logs and huddled in worn leather coats by the fire. They were eating what looked and smelled like burnt beans from tin trays they both held in their hands.

  The men weren’t just filthy and covered in ragged clothing, there were lots of men just like that in town looking for employment, but their faces and necks were covered with cuts and scars. One of the men’s hands appeared burnt so bad it was shiny and pulled tight, it resembled wax more than flesh as he gripped the plate in it. It was clear to her by the men’s talk that they hadn’t legally purchased the animals from Spencer, and they weren’t headed to any legitimate livestock market. Dale County, north of Topeka was known to be a place for vagrants and rustlers. Rumor had it that it could get so bad there that the Kansas government had to send U.S. Marshals quarterly to round up some of those on wanted posters and clean the place out. Only a month later, it would start swarming again with reprobates.

  She took in as much of their features as she could. When she got back to the house, she’d go over to Pete’s shed and get him to rouse Mr. Reynolds and go for Sheriff Silverman. Not wanting to be around the rustlers any longer than was necessary, she looked one more time to the other man to get a better description.

  When he lifted his head from the side of the plate where he was scrapping the last of the dried dark beans into his mouth, the firelight shined on the side of his face she could see. She was shocked by the sight of the deep gash that practically mangled him from forehead to below his right ear. It was so deep that his face tilted awkwardly at the bottom as if it had to be reattached there. She covered her mouth to hold back any sound she might make at the horrid appearance.

  “I gotta piss.” The waxy hand man discarded his dish toward the ground, it landed with a loud clatter as he rose, already fiddling with the button that held the flap of his breeches as he strolled off to the side.

  Thinking this was a perfect time, she turned to flee.

  “Oof!” She ran smack into the wide nose of one of the steer that must have followed her direction, as best it could while tied up. The impact knocked her off balance and she landed on her backside snapping several thick twigs beneath her.

  “Who’s dere?”

  “Whodat?”

  Not answering either men’s questions, she scrambled to her feet, not caring how much sound she made, bent on getting out of there before she was discovered. Over her shoulder, she could see scar face get up and move in her direction. Grabbing a fistful of her skirts, she took flight, planning to round the other three steer, then break through the trees. Even as the pounding of feet as they crunched through the layers of snow on the ground could be heard behind her, she headed for the clearing. She knew if she got there, anyone travelling the road to or from town could possibly see her and help if needed.

  The wall stopped her. Only thing, walls didn’t have hands that gripped her painfully.

  “What’da we have here, Stimmy?” His hands maybe scarred, but they had a manacle grip on her upper arms.

  She struggled against him as the other man could be heard moving closer to them from behind. “Let me go!”

  “Don’t know, Mint. I’m thinkin’ sum company on a cold night,” he cackled.

  “No. No! Turn me loose.” She kicked the man in the shin with the toe of her boot.

  “Ouch! Bitch.”

  She didn’t expect the swift kick back. She cried out as pain radiated from the side of her calf at the impact site. A man had never struck her before. “Get your filthy hands off me.”

  “Oh, she’s a feisty one.”

  She felt a hand tugging at her simple coiffure and shook her head to not only avoid his grip, but to deny his words. “No.” She stared up through the dark at the dirt-caked face of the man holding her against him. “Look, I won’t say anything about the cows you two stole. Just let me go.”

  “Ain’t that mighty kind.” His heavy rancid breath create
d a damp cloud around her face as he leaned down close to her.

  She thought that the name Mint must be a nickname, a joke, because there was nothing fresh about the oral stench coming from him at all. The only thing that rivaled his breath, was the foul smell of his unwashed body. She forced herself to swallow down the bile racing up the back of her throat.

  He shoved her away from him and she would have sighed with relief, except the man with his fingers in her hair yanked her back to him, hard. The air left her lungs at the collision, but it would not have mattered, since he clamped his other dirty hand over her mouth.

  It was apparent she was in trouble, it was going to be practically impossible for her to get away from them.

  Scarface leaned closer and pressed his lips to her ear, but the speech wasn’t a whisper as he declared, “You ain’t goin’ say nothing, because a squealin’ gal cain’t talk.”

  “And trust us, you goin’ be moanin’ a lot when we get between those thighs.” Mint grabbed at her breasts hard, as his muddy brown eyes gleamed in the dark.

  Not caring if she fell, she kicked out at him with both of her legs as she tried to scream past the hand over her mouth. It came out muffled, but she felt a moment of satisfaction as one of her heels struck Mint in the soft gut.

  “Shee-it!”

  When Mint stepped back and to the side with a groan, she went on the attack to the man behind her, swinging her clenched fist. He was holding her hair and mouth so tightly, she would have ended up snapping her own neck if she’d turned.

  “Oh, I do enjoy fuckin’ a wild filly. Goin’ have some fun tonight.” He thrust his hips into her backside. “Get ’er legs.”