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  Copyright 2015 by (Valerie Reyes) - All rights reserved.

  In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.

  Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  The Preacher’s Daughter

  By Valerie Reyes

  Table of Contents

  The Preacher’s Daughter

  Dana’s Discovery

  Bear Hug

  A Billionaire Love Affair

  Born of Fire

  Corporate Confusion

  Deep Dragon Desires

  Dominated by the Vampire King

  Dragon’s Desire

  Drilled by the Sergeant

  Fire & Ice

  Rode by the Cowboy

  Room for a Third

  Tied in Knots

  Unbearable Urges

  The Preacher’s Daughter

  Chapter 1

  Cassidy pulled a slat of the blinds down and looked listlessly out at the small pool in the motel’s courtyard. A few errant leaves and bugs floated in the water and sunlight glinted on its surface. With a sigh she turned away from the window, she got a beer out of the fridge, and sat down at the room’s small table.

  She pulled a pack of Lucky Strikes out of her shirt pocket, put one between her lips and lit it. She toyed idly with the book of matches as she smoked, sorting through too many thoughts and emotions that had been piling up over the previous week.

  It felt strange to be back in Mason again after all this time, and truth be told she would just as soon never have set foot here again. Too much of the past dwelt in this town. She had barely come back since the accident and her mother’s death. She had been 16 then, still a child, and had had no choice but to move in with her father in Chicago.

  She had come back here to visit a few times, but it proved to be too painful. Everywhere she looked, every street she turned down, held a memory of her mother. It had taken her grandmother’s death to bring her back here again.

  It had come as a shock to the whole family. At 73, Ada Bledsoe had still been in good health, spending her days tending the garden she had always so loved outside the old two story house in which Cassidy had spent so much of her childhood.

  She tended to her husband as well, who had not aged quite as well as she had. No one had ever doubted that she would outlive him by a matter of years. But the heart attack had claimed her suddenly, without so much as a whisper of warning.

  It had been two weeks now since her funeral, and still Cassidy was hesitant to head back to Chicago. She wanted nothing more than to get behind the wheel of her old blue Mustang and put as many miles between her and this town as she possibly could before sundown. She had felt that way every day since she’d first arrived.

  But she knew that she couldn’t do that. Not yet, at least. She couldn’t leave things as they stood with Grandpa Paul. With Ada gone, there had been some debate as to who would take over his care. None of Ada’s children wanted the responsibility, despite the fact that the man had raised them as his own after their own father had walked out on them.

  In the end, they had moved him out of the old two story house where he and Ada had shared so many years and into the Whispering Oaks nursing home. Cassidy had been outraged, but her hands had been tied. There wasn’t a lot she would be able to do once she returned to Chicago.

  And she would have to return soon. Her father would not hold her job at the shop for her forever.

  Just a while longer, she thought. Just until I’m sure that Grandpa Paul’s settled into the new place okay.

  She mashed out her cigarette angrily in the glass ashtray that sat on the table and took a sip of her beer. He deserved better than this, but damned if she knew what to do about it.

  She glanced at the red numbers of the clock on the nightstand. 6:15. With a sigh she got up, grabbed her beaten copy of T.S. Eliot poems, and stepped outside into the reluctantly fading Texas heat. After locking the door of her room she got into the Mustang, set the book on the passenger seat, and reached for her seatbelt.

  She cursed as it burned her, too hot to touch after sitting beneath the unrelenting sun all afternoon. That was one thing she wouldn’t miss when she returned home. She leaned over and reached into the passenger floorboard, retrieving a dingy rag that she usually used when she checked her oil. She used it to protect her fingers as she fastened the seatbelt. She was grateful for the cloth cover on the steering wheel.

  She lit a cigarette, put the Mustang into first gear, and turned left out of the motel parking lot toward Whispering Oaks. It had become her routine over the past week to go and read to Grandpa Paul in the evening, after he had taken his supper. The book had been his gift to her on her 15th birthday. He had been determined to instill in her his love for poetry and books.

  The Mustang’s air conditioning had only just begun to make a dent in the heat by the time she pulled into the Whispering Oaks parking lot. Cassidy put the Mustang into first gear, shut off the engine, and set the emergency brake before getting out and making her way toward the nursing home. She didn’t bother locking the doors. There was no need to in this town.

  When she walked through the double doors she was greeted by a wall of cool, air conditioned air, heavy with the distinctive scent that belongs only to those places where the elderly go to die. She was growing uncomfortably accustomed to it. She greeted the nurse at the front desk with a curt nod before heading down the hallway toward room 317, Grandpa Paul’s room.

  She stopped just short of it, listening to the voices that drifted out into the hallway. One of the voices was an unending stream of monotone gibberish.

  Must be the new roommate, Cassidy thought. She had forgotten that he was being moved in today. The nurse had mentioned that he wasn’t quite with it. Boy, had that been an understatement. The other two voices were raised slightly. From the sound of it, Cassidy couldn’t decide if they were raised in anger, or if they were simply trying to be heard above the endless drone of Grandpa Paul’s new roommate.

  “I’m tellin’ you, I want to go home. You have no right to keep me in this place!” Definitely anger then.

  “And I’m tellin’ you, old man, that there’s no way that can happen. Who’s gonna look after you? You damn sure can’t do it yourself.”

  I see Lester hasn’t changed a bit, Cassidy thought with distaste.

  She had to tamp down the urge to burst through the door and punch him right in his smug face.

  She had never understood how her uncle had wound up so mean spirited. She ground her teeth as she stepped into the room. Grandpa Paul shut his mouth against whatever reply he had been about to make and worked to school his face into a mask of neutrality.

  Lester changed expressions effortlessly, a too-wide smile replacing his sneer between one breath and the next.

  “Why, Cassidy!” he gushed. “I had no idea you were still in town. What brings you here?” he asked, indicating the cramped room. Cassidy crossed her arms.

  “Lester,” she said flatly, ignoring his question. She stared at him for a moment until the false smile slid off his face and he dropped his eyes.

  “Cass here comes and reads to me in the evenin’s,” Grandpa Paul interjected. “So if you’ll excuse us.”

  Lester threw u
p his hands in exasperation and stormed out without another word. Cassidy sat down in the chair next to Grandpa Paul’s bed and they sat in silence, listening to his roommate’s continuing litany of nonsense.

  “Got a new roommate today,” he said straight faced after a long moment. Cassidy couldn’t hold back the smile that came across her face.

  “I hadn’t noticed,” she said with a laugh. “Does he ever quit?”

  “Not to my knowledge, no,” he answered dryly. “Name’s Ralph, the nurse says. Seems like a nice enough fella.”

  “Jeez.”

  They both broke into laughter for a moment. Then Cassidy sobered.

  “Listen, Grandpa, about Uncle Lester…”

  “Bah. Never mind him,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I don’t want to talk about him. I want to hear The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock.” He nodded toward the book in her hand.

  “Sure thing,” she said with a thin smile. She opened the book and flipped through it until she found the poem. It only took her a moment. The poem was one of her favorites and she had turned to it many times before. Grandpa Paul leaned his head back and closed his eyes as he listened to her read, doing his best to tune out the incessant ramblings from the other side of the small room.

  When she was done she closed the book and set it in her lap. Neither of them said anything for a long moment.

  “Thank you,” he finally said.

  “Anytime,” Cassidy replied. “You gonna be able to get any sleep with him carryin’ on like that?” she asked.

  “I guess we’ll see,” Grandpa Paul said with a shrug. “I figure he’s gotta stop eventually.”

  “Yeah,” Cassidy agreed. “Listen, I’ll stop by and see you in the mornin’. That donut shop down on the square still open?”

  “It is.”

  “Great. I’ll bring you some donuts and coffee.”

  “That would be good,” he said with a smile.

  Chapter 2

  The next morning Cassidy woke early and made her way to the donut shop. The bell above the door chimed as she walked in and Mrs. Goodwin poked her head through the doorway that led to the back.

  “Why, Cassidy Winters!” she exclaimed when she saw Cassidy. “I almost didn’t recognize you. Let me get a good look at you!” She made her way around the counter, put her hands on Cassidy’s shoulders and held her at arm’s length as she looked her up and down.

  “Hi, Mrs. Goodwin,” Cassidy said, enduring the inspection as good naturedly as she could.

  Mrs. Goodwin ran a finger through Cassidy’s short, black hair, clicking her tongue in mild disapproval.

  “What did you do to your hair? You always had such beautiful hair. It’s a good thing you’ve got such a pretty face or folks’d mistake you for a man! How do you expect to ever find a husband that way?”

  Cassidy opened her mouth to say that, being a lesbian, it was very doubtful she’d find a husband regardless of what she did to her hair, but thought better of it. Mrs. Goodwin meant well and there was no sense in opening that particular can of worms right now. She just let her chatter on until she was out of steam.

  Mrs. Goodwin rang up half a dozen donuts and two cups of coffee for Cassidy as she talked.

  “Well,” she said, more serious now that she was done inspecting Cassidy and giving her rapid-fire dating advice. “Tell me, dear, how are you?”

  “Makin’ it, I suppose,” Cassidy said with a shrug. Mrs. Goodwin nodded.

  “I was so sorry to hear about your grandmother,” she said sincerely. “She was a great woman.”

  “She was,” Cassidy agreed.

  “It’s a good thing you’re here now,” Mrs. Goodwin continued. “Nice to know there’s somebody around who’ll look after your granddad. Lord knows those good for nothin’ sons o’ his ain’t gonna do it. No offense, I know they’re your kin and all, but…”

  “None taken,” Cassidy said.

  Mrs. Goodwin’s words hung heavy over Cassidy as she drove to the nursing home. Who was going to take care of him? She had been right, after all. Not one of her three uncles would lift a finger to help him, even though he had raised them, had been a father to them for so long that everyone had all but forgotten that he was actually their step-father.

  She did her best to push those thoughts aside as she made her way to his room. She could tell before she even reached the doorway that his roommate was already up from the jabbering that floated into the hallway.

  “Hey, Grandpa,” she said as she entered.

  “Good mornin’,” he said with a tired smile.

  “Good mornin’,” she replied. “He’s at it again, I see.” Grandpa Paul shook his head.

  “Never stopped,” he said. Cassidy winced.

  “Sorry to hear that,” she said.

  “Nothin’ a little coffee can’t fix,” he said, nodding to the cups in her hand.

  “If you say so,” she said with a smile. She handed him one of the cups and set the other one on the table. Then she dug a donut out of the bag and handed it to him before getting one for herself. They made small talk while they ate.

  The topics remained light, but Cassidy had come to a decision. When she had finished her second donut she stood to go.

  “I’ve got some errands to run,” she told him. “But I’ll be back later.”

  “Alright,” he replied.

  The first thing she did when she left was pick up a newspaper and head back to the motel. It was time to find a job. There was no way that she could walk away. She decided she might as well accept the fact that she was back in Mason for the long haul.

  She smoked as she flipped through the help wanted ads, idly flicking her ashes into the ashtray. One ad in particular caught her eye, but she didn’t want to get her hopes up too high. Henderson Auto Repair was looking for a new mechanic. It would be nice to go into a line of work that she already knew. But she had a feeling that old man Henderson would sooner chew glass than hire a woman mechanic.

  Still, though, she thought. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, as the old saying goes.

  She got into the Mustang and drove out to the edge of town where Henderson Auto Repair was situated. Her tires crunched on the asphalt as she parked in front of the shop. All of the bays were full, she noticed, and there were several cars parked along the side of the building, waiting their turns to be repaired. That was a good sign, she decided. Maybe they hadn’t hired anyone yet.

  No one was in the office when she came in. Two beat-up leather couches sat at right angles to one another in the waiting area. She sat down and tried to keep herself occupied with the old magazines that littered the battered coffee table in the middle of the room, but finally her impatience won out.

  She stood up and made her way out to the nearest bay, where she could hear the sound of an air ratchet in sporadic bursts.

  “Hello?” she ventured.

  The sound of the air ratchet stopped and a tousled head poked out from under an old Toyota. Cassidy’s jaw dropped.

  “Matt?” She and Matt had been best friends since she had picked a fight with him in fourth grade and they’d been forced to hold hands for the rest of the afternoon. He had been the first one she had come out to. Hell, he was one of the only people in this town she had come out to.

  “Holy shit,” he said, his grease-smeared face splitting into a wide grin. He rolled the rest of the way out from under the car and wrapped Cassidy in a bear hug.

  “How the hell have you been?” he asked as he released her. “Sorry about the grease, by the way,” he said, looking at her now stained clothes.

  “Shut up, dork. You know I don’t care,” she said with a laugh.

  “Yeah. I know,” he said. He ran a grease smeared hand right down the front of her face.

  “Ass,” she said without heat. She punched him in the shoulder before snagging the rag from the pocket of his coveralls.

  “So since when did you decide to take up the family business?” she asked as she wiped at
her face. “Thought you were gonna go to college, have a career and all that. Hell, you already practically had a full ride in scholarships when I left. What happened?”

  “Life, I guess. Got Melody pregnant. Got married,” he said, holding up his left hand to show her the gold band on it. “Had to do somethin’ to support us.”

  He shrugged and they both fell silent for a moment. He looked at her grease smeared face and started laughing.

  “God, you look ridiculous,” he said.

  She threw the greasy rag at him.

  “Seriously, though, I hope whatever you need fixed ain’t urgent. I’m backed up for at least a week,” he said with a nod toward the various cars that awaited repairs.

  “Actually,” she said, “I’m here about the job.”

  “No shit?”

  “No shit,” she confirmed.

  “Huh,” he said contemplatively. “You actually know what you’re doin’?”

  “Please,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I’ve worked in my dad’s shop since I was 16.”

  “Fair enough,” he said with a laugh, holding up his hands. “Job’s yours.” Cassidy blinked.

  “Just like that?” she asked.

  “Why not?” he said.

  “Won’t your old man shit bricks when he finds out you hired a woman as a mechanic?” she asked laughingly.

  “Nah,” Matt said dismissively. “Well, okay, maybe. But he handed the shop off to me a couple years back. He’s pretty much retired now.”

  “Huh,” Cassidy said thoughtfully.

  “So, when can you start?”

  “I’ll start right now if you want me to,” she said with a shrug.

  “That’s the spirit!” Matt said with a lopsided grin. “Ford in the back over there needs a new head gasket. You can start with that.”

  “Whatever you say, boss,” Cassidy said with a smirk. She set to work and lost track of time. Five o’clock came before she even knew what happened.

  “See you tomorrow,” Matt said as he locked up the shop.

  “See you tomorrow,” Cassidy replied.