Apocalypse Cowboy Page 4

  Hannah’s heart ached for him. Would the outcome been different if Brody had returned? Maybe, but then again Harold had been married to his sweet Marie for thirty-five years and known her for almost fifty. His heart had died when she had. The idea of a love that strong both appealed to and frightened Hannah. Especially since she’d thought of death a few times when Brody had left her.

  “I’m sorry, Brody. I should have warned you, but I didn’t know how.”

  He turned in her arms and wrapped himself around her, his body shuddering as he grieved. She hugged him tightly, her own eyes leaking as she shared his pain.

  Together they knelt, both finally crying for a past they could not change. Hannah’s barriers fell at his obvious pain, his vulnerability, a side of him she’d never expected to see.

  And she couldn’t help herself from falling in love with him all over again.

  * * * * *

  Brody finally controlled himself, appalled that he’d cried like the biggest of sissies and in front of Hannah no less. Unable to look behind him and see his parents again in their makeshift tomb, he grasped Hannah tightly and stood with her, his knees protesting after having knelt on the hard floor for so long.

  He walked Hannah down the stairs, his hand clasping hers tightly. Out they went, through the front door of the house to the fresh air outside. He gulped deeply to erase the scent of death. Nothing, however, would ever remove the horror and guilt of what he’d done to his parents through his selfish absence from his mind. But he’d learned one thing very important thing since the apocalypse. He couldn’t dwell on what could have been. He had to move on and look to the future. While he couldn’t atone to his parents, he could make sure he didn’t repeat the mistakes of the past with Hannah. The future started with taking better care of her and the family she had left. She didn’t protest or move away when he folded her into his arms and hugged her tightly.

  His arms loosened from her finally, and she leaned back to look at him.

  “Are you okay?” she asked timidly, her eyes still red from crying.

  “I’ll live,” he said with a crooked attempt at a grin. “How did you get here?”

  She pointed to a bike sprawled on the grass. The thought of her riding it, she who’d hated biking growing up, made him want to cry again. This time in joy. She could deny it all she wanted, but she still cared.

  Walking their bikes the few blocks into town, she finally talked to him and asked the questions Beth and Fred had already bombarded him with.

  “What’s it like outside of here? Did many survive?”

  “The whole planet is like a ghost town. There are survivors, but in my travels across America, they’ve been scarce. Many have hidden themselves out of fear. Others have gone mad. But I’ve heard of some gathering to form a new society. Once I left here, I was going to check out rumors about an Amish village that’s been taken over.”

  “An Amish village? That’s brilliant.”

  No kidding. What place would be better set up to survive than one that didn’t rely on any modern conveniences like electricity?

  “Yup, course my visit to check it out will wait now that I’ve found you.” Hannah ducked her head, but he could see the hint of a smile as if his reaffirmation that he would be staying pleased her.

  “Do you think they might have some people Beth’s age? I worry about her.”

  “Only one way to find out. If we’re going to travel though, we’re going to need more than just my bike. I’ll take a poke around town and see if I can’t find any more motorcycles that can be fixed up. I’ll give you and Beth lessons if you want.” It was a pity so many of the roads were blocked. A car would have made things much easier, but as the panic had spread, people had tried to escape, as if they could outdrive the disease. Some had died in their cars, others had fled when the roads became impassable, and nature had overtaken the rest of the arteries that had once linked the towns. It was surprising how quickly society crumbled with nobody around to tend it. Motorcycles made a decent choice for travel, once you learned how to ride one and if you took it slow. Potholes were common along with debris.

  Actually now that Brody thought of all the hazards that could happen on a motorcycle, he wondered if perhaps he should look into a different mode of travel. He refused to take chances with Hannah’s safety.

  “Beth can already ride. She had a dirt bike for a while ‘til she wrecked it doing stupid stunts.”

  “What about you? Did you want to learn?” Personally, he would prefer her as a passenger holding onto him nice and tight.

  “No thank you. Motorcycles are dangerous.” She went silent for a moment as if thinking. “Will humanity survive?” she asked, looking him in the face with a serious mien.

  “Of course we will. We’re a stubborn bunch. Tell you what. We can get started right now on repopulating the species if you’d like,” he said with a naughty grin, stopping in front of the wide display window for the mattress store.

  With a shriek, Hannah came after him, and Brody skipped out of her reach. While she pretended outrage at his comment, the flush on her cheeks and sparkle in her eyes told him the idea had merit. And his jest had done the trick and chased the shadows from her face.

  When she slowed down her chase, with a mock growl, he U-turned and stalked her.

  With her chest panting and her lips moist from running her tongue over them, she watched him come. While she said a halfhearted, “No,” she didn’t stop him when he caught her in his arms and lowered his lips for a kiss.

  He meant it to be a light caress, a gentle reminder of the passion they’d shared, but he’d dreamed of her for too long. When she moaned softly, he crushed her soft body to his and slanted his lips forcefully across hers.

  She tasted as sweet as he remembered and when she opened her mouth and let her tongue delve into his, Brody groaned against her mouth. His hands slid down her back to cup her full bottom, and he squeezed those cheeks, their rounded weight making his cock throb. He pulled her hard against his groin, letting her feel his erection but, to his confusion, he felt her hands push at him. Reluctantly, he let her go.

  She panted, her eyes heavy lidded and lips swollen. “I can’t. It’s too soon.” Her face crumpled a bit as if she would cry.

  Brody clenched his fists, angry at himself for pushing her too fast. “I can wait.” For her, he would do anything.

  She looked like wanted to speak again, but instead she rubbed her eyes and turned away to walk briskly toward the hardware store.

  Brody followed, hating he’d hurt her, but unable to stop the euphoria at having had her even if briefly in his arms.

  I will make her love me again.

  * * * * *

  That evening when they’d all gathered for dinner-with Hannah studiously ignoring Brody lest she throw him over the table and have him for supper-she brought up the Amish visit.

  “Brody was telling me today about the possibility of some survivors taking up residence in that Amish parish.”

  Uncle Fred’s eyes brightened. “It makes sense. Everything a person would need in this new world would be there from livestock to homes that work without electricity to barns and churns and…”

  Fred rambled on for several minutes ‘til Beth with the impatience of youth interrupted him. “So when do we leave?”

  “Well, we can’t just leave,” said Hannah, taken aback by her sister’s eagerness. “Remember these are just rumors.”

  “Then why mention it?” cried Beth. “Or do you just not care about me? You’ve got Brody now, so who cares if I’m all alone, right?”

  “I don’t have Brody,” Hannah said more sharply than intended. “And don’t be silly. Of course I don’t want you to be alone. But the nearest Amish village was at least an eight-hour drive when the roads were clear. Now we’ve got figure that with detours and stuff it could take twelve hours or more. Not to mention we don’t exactly have a vehicle to take us all, or had you forgotten that?”

  Beth opened her m
outh to retort but burst into tears instead.

  Hannah, immune to her sister’s melodramatic habits, fought an urge to roll her eyes. Brody, however, had never had a little sister used to getting her way.

  “Listen, I’ll get to work on finding a way for us all to get there okay? And if we don’t find people at that Amish village, then we’ll keep searching. I promise you, we’ll find survivors, Beth. Nobody wants you to be alone.”

  With glistening eyes, Beth beamed at Brody, and Hannah tried to ignore her discomfort. Brody shouldn’t make promises he couldn’t be sure of keeping. What if they didn’t find anybody?

  What if Brody is the last man left on earth? I don’t think I could share, even with my sister.

  The rest of dinner passed with idle chit-chat. It wasn’t until Hannah prepared for bed that she could really think about the kiss she and Brody had shared. She’d spent the rest of that afternoon in town looking for supplies in a state of heightened awareness. Every movement made her clothes chafe against her sensitive skin, and each time she accidentally caught his eye, she’d relived that brief moment of pleasure. Worse, she wanted to do it again without stopping him. Her body ached with longing.

  Pulling out her vibrator, she tried to muster enthusiasm, but how could she enjoy herself when what she really craved sat just downstairs? The cold plastic of her toy could not match the thickness of his cock.

  With a snort of disgust, she threw the vibrator back into the drawer and slammed it shut. Stripping, she prepared to go to bed, but once under her sheet, she tossed and turned, too restless to sleep-too hot and horny.

  She hopped out of bed and went to her window, opening it wider, hoping for a cooling breeze. Instead she heard the strains of music and a weird ticking sound coming from below her window on the front porch. Intrigued, even as she knew who the culprit had to be, she padded barefoot down the steps in her night shorts and tank top.

  The front door gaped open with only the screen door shut. Looking out, she saw Brody sitting on the front step holding a long stick.

  Curious she stepped out. “What are you doing?”

  Tilting his head to look back at her, he smiled. “Preparing to go fishing tomorrow. I thought you might enjoy a change in fare.”

  Hannah’s mouth watered at the thought of fresh fish fillets. She hadn’t had meat other than chicken in forever. They’d never taught trapping skills in home economics.

  “You know how to fish?” she asked, coming to sit beside him.

  Brody chuckled. “Who doesn’t?”

  “Will you teach me?”

  “Sure, but I warn you, we’ll be leaving at the crack of dawn. That’s when the fish bite best.”

  “I’ll be ready.”

  When they fell silent, she heard once again music. “What the hell is that?” she asked, not recognizing the tune.

  Brody grinned, his teeth glistening white in the deepening night. “That is a classic from the eighties called “Armageddon It” by Def Leppard.”

  Hannah listened, tapping her foot. “It’s kind of catchy. Where’d you find it?”

  “When I was travelling, I picked up quite a few MP3 players. It makes the time pass quicker when you’re on the road.”

  “Why did it take you so long to come back?”

  “Biggest reason? I was chicken. I didn’t know if I could handle knowing everyone I grew up with died. And on the way, I ran into delays. The bike would break down. I’d find a survivor who needed a hand. Winter forced me to hole up in one town for a while. Then I ran into trouble a few times with some folk who thought they could order the rest of us around. It’s a shame violence and ignorance didn’t die along with the rest of the world.”

  Hannah shivered at his words. She knew firsthand violence hadn’t died. With the world decimated, it boggled the mind that anyone would even think about it.

  Brody saw her shudder and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “Don’t worry, kitten. I’ll never let anyone hurt you.” The dark menace in his words frightened her but, even more shocking, they thrilled her. Brody would be her knight in shining armor if she let him. But that would mean trusting him. How could she when she still couldn’t be sure he wouldn’t leave her again? What if he got bored or thought the grass was greener elsewhere and just took off?

  Like a cold shower, these plaguing thoughts woke her from the comfortable zone she’d allowed to sink over her while in his presence. It would be all too easy to forgive and forget.

  As if he read her mind, he spoke softly. “I’m never leaving you alone again, kitten. I wish you’d believe me. I still love you.”

  With a strangled cry, Hannah jumped up from the step and tore into the house like the bats of hell chased her.

  She fled to her room, hiding from the fact she loved him. Loved him so much it scared her.

  And where will fear get me? Alone. I’ve been given a second chance. How stupid would I be to turn that down? This is a new world. A fresh start. Maybe I need to stop being a fraidy cat and learn to live again. I can’t hide forever.

  Chapter Six

  Brody waited for her out front, barely sleeping the night before, so excited to finally find himself spending a few hours alone with Hannah, if she hadn’t changed her mind. She’d taken off so quickly the night before after he’d confessed his love to her. But he wanted her to believe him and love him again.

  Unable to stand still, he fidgeted with the straps on the luggage rack attached to the back fender of his bike. He had a cooler and the fishing poles strapped to the back fender. Good thing he’d been able to break the rods down into smaller segments or else they’d have had to carry them on the bike jousting lance style.

  With a yawn, Hannah finally appeared dressed in loose track pants and a hoodie, her hair back in a tight ponytail. She looked so soft and still asleep that he wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her ‘til her blood rushed through her body with sexual awakening. Damn, he needed to stop these thoughts. Hannah would come to him only when she was ready.

  But I wish she’d hurry up, ‘cause if my balls get any bluer, they’ll probably fall off.

  Coming down the steps, she approached the bike, and he could smell the clean scent of soap. “Where did you get all this stuff?” she asked looking over the mound of equipment.

  “On one of my raiding trips into town. Good thing I picked up more than one pole. Ready?” Brody swung his leg over the bike and started it, tensing only a little when she clambered on behind him, her arms wrapping tight around his torso. He swallowed hard when her full breasts pushed into his back. Brody closed his eyes for a second, savoring the feel of her body pressed so intimately, his instant erection straining in his jeans. The only way this could have felt better would have been if she’d been plastered against him naked.

  With a fierce twist of the throttle, he took off. Hannah’s arms tightened, crushing him like the coils of an anaconda-and he loved it. Brody took the familiar roads and dirt paths to the river, wishing it lay farther away so he could enjoy the feel of her molded against him a little longer. Hannah would notice if he detoured though, so reminding himself he’d be spending the day alone with her, he turned onto the rutted track leading to his favorite fishing spot as a kid. He slowed down only when they hit the grassy embankment just past the thin line of trees. He’d no sooner stopped than Hannah hopped off, her rounded tush, even in her loose clothes, swinging sexily as she wandered to the river’s edge.

  Brody kept an eye on her as he unpacked the fishing gear. She looked so beautiful in the early morning light, her hair shining and her face soft with pleasure as she dipped her toes in the water, her shoes already discarded on the bank.

  Spreading a blanket, he sat down cross-legged with the poles and threaded them back together, clipping bobbers, hook, and bait on their ends. Hannah wandered from the water and sat beside him.

  “Where’s the worms?” she asked, lifting one of the baited hooks and wrinkling her nose at the hairball on the end.

  “This is
not the Stone Age, woman. Real fishermen use lures. That furry one you’re looking at is a Murdish minnow streamer.”

  “Looks like something I pulled out of my hairbrush.”

  “Yeah, well, for the bass we want to catch it will hopefully look like lunch. If those don’t work though I do have some plastic worms as backup. Now here, this is yours.” He handed her one of the poles, and she stood up with it, the hook swinging.

  “Whoa! Watch where you’re pointing that thing.”

  Her cheeks blushed a becoming pink, and she held the rod away from him while he stood too. Gesturing for her to follow, he went down to the water’s edge.

  “Now watch what I do.” He instructed, exaggerating the movements required to cast the line. With the ease of years of experience, his lure flew across the water, landing with a little splash, the current pulling the line taut.

  Hannah adopted his stance and flicked her rod. Nothing happened, and she scowled at him and her fishing pole. “Why didn’t it work?”

  “Remember to click that button just as you fling it forward.”

  She pulled back again and whipped the rod forward. The hook and lure ejected a few feet and stopped dead.

  Brody held in a laugh as she cursed. “Stupid thing is broken.”

  Wedging his pole into the soft ground and bracing it with rocks, he went over to give her a hand.

  “Let me show you how it’s done.” He wrapped his arms around her, placing his hands over hers. Her lush bottom tucked into his groin, making him forget for a moment what he meant to teach her. But he had a hard-on that knew exactly what it wanted to do, and apparently she felt it nudging for she turned her face toward him with a gasp.

  * * * * *

  Hannah’s frustration with the whole fishing thing faded as her body interested itself in the pole poking against her backside. Even through her thick cotton pants, she could feel his erection, and it made her wet in response. A part of her knew she should move, but another part-the one that had spent so many nights aching for this-wouldn’t let her. She barely heard him as he told and showed her how to cast the fishing line.