Kate, p.1
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       Kate, p.1

           Dwight W. Hunter
 
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Kate
Rita

  Book Seven of Sister of Destiny Series

  by

  Dwight W Hunter

  Copyright 2013 Dwight W. Hunter

  All rights reserved

  ISBN: 9781301422968

  Let six additional books in Sisters of Destiny Series add to your reading pleasure. The remaining titles are available at most e-book retailers.

  All novels in The Sisters of Destiny Series are completely fictional. Any resemblance to person or person's names living or dead is purely coincidental

  Table of Contents

  Chapter01- Buck

  Chapter02 - Rita

  Chapter03 - Sophie

  Chapter04 - Answered Prayers

  Chapter05 - Spin the Fates

  Chapter06 - Prospects

  Chapter07 - VFW

  Chapter08 - Buck's Second Chance

  Chapter09 - Rita Meets Henry

  Chapter10 - Buck Proves Himself

  Chapter11 - Nellie's Story

  Chapter12 - Henry

  Chapter13 - Girl Talk

  Chapter14 - More Girl Talk

  Chapter15 - Buck Looks for a Deal

  Chapter16 - Let the Sting Begin

  Chapter17 - Progress on all Fronts

  Chapter18 - Rita Hooked Ted

  Chapter19 - The RockPile

  Chapter20 - Hard Ones or Soft Ones

  Chapter21 - Buck Makes a Play

  Chapter22 - Buck Learns a Lesson

  Chapter23 - Gus and The House

  Chapter24 - Buck and an Assortment of Women

  Chapter25 - The Final Solution

  About_the_Author

  The_Sisters_of_Destiny_Series

  Chapter01 - Buck

  Buck liked and enjoyed the weather in Snowbird Land, but missed the structured life back on the ranch where there was always something to do. He found living alone in Cactus Junction, Arizona was lonesome and time passed slowly, with no demands on his time, leaving little to do other than tell lies and drink beer with other bored Snowbird retired farmers and ranchers. Buck was always glad when Saturday night rolled around to break his boredom and put him in a good mood. It was steak night at the VFW Post followed by a dance with live western style music which offered Buck the opportunity for a bit of belly rubbing with a few ladies selected from a crowd of widows who were equally bored and seeking attention.

  "Why not celebrate a little, lift a couple, have a good steak and check out the woman herd; maybe something new has drifted south for the winter." Buck thought aloud, consulting his watch, noting it three o'clock in the afternoon causing him to plan an afternoon schedule.

  "There's enough time for ah cool one and a snooze before getting ready."

  Taking a can of Coors from the refrigerator, Buck settled down in his recliner, took a healthy pull from the can and punched the TV remote to bring up a John Wayne western. In a few minutes the beer can was drained and Buck was fast asleep. He sat head laid back, open mouthed and giving forth rhythmic-gurgles interspersed with an occasional low rumbling snort.

  Two and a half hours later, Buck was showered, dressed and ready to go. Checking his appearance in a full length mirror he viewed an often seen reflection of a man about five ten with an almost flat gut, wearing a checkered western style shirt, a new pair of jeans and snake skin boots. His face was leathered from long days in the sun and dry prairie winds. The weathered face was complimented by an almost full head of salt and pepper colored hair.

  "Gawd, you're a handsome ol' shit," Buck thought to himself turning sideways for a better view of his profile.

  Thirty minutes later Buck found himself turning his current year Ford pickup into the VFW parking lot. After parking he sat listening to compression rattles typical of Diesel engines and reflecting on the kind of woman he looked forward to having as a bed partner to complete the night. Thinking about the years and conquests behind him, Buck considered himself well nigh on to being irresistible. Coupled with the usual large supply of snowbird widows of various sizes, shapes and hews, Buck could count on being at various dance venues around town; in Buck's mind it wasn't a question of "if" but of "who".

  By damn, it' been close to a month since I've had a piece of tail." Buck stammered aloud as he shut down the Diesel engine and stepped down from his truck. Buck's boots made a crunching sound in the sand as he walked across the parking lot. Glancing toward the entrance he stopped in mid-stride to focus on two women standing in the doorway. Buck quickly culled out the lady on the left as being two wide and wearing slacks, which in Buck's opinion were unbecoming for a woman to wear. He judged her's were stretched to the point of fracture.

  The lady on the right was petite and responsible for halting Buck's forward motion. She looked to be about five five, balanced atop testosterone stimulating high thin-heel shoes. Light shining through her skirt rendered the cloth nearly transparent giving Buck a thigh-high x-ray view of her shapely legs. As Buck continued to saver the unknown lady's frontal view she turned sideways offering a profile of her upper accouterments.

  "Gawd dang, she's packin' a great pair of tits and has a nice face to match. Hot damn! He muttered. "Just as I thought, there's going to wet sheets tonight," Buck uttered, restarting his walk to the door.

  Buck came by his unpolished character honestly, from his heritage. He was a product of the great-unsettled mid-American prairie; born and matured on a cattle ranch his grandfather carved from the vast open prairie near a small cow town of Antelope when the Dakota's were still Indian Territory.

  The Dakota's of that era were part of a large unfriendly country as many early settlers discovered. If a reverse time instrument was available, making it possible for an observer to peer backward into history to view virgin landscape surrounding the small town of Antelope, it would reveal a long chronology of fossil bones spanning a lengthy taxonomy of creatures. Near the end of this timeline inventory, a substantial collection of late model human bones would be seen dotting the landscape. This assemblage of homo supine bones stood as a silent testimony to the ignorance, greed and stupidity of early white pilgrims engaged in fatal attempts to conquer this unforgiving land.

  Over millennia of time, Indians learned to tread lightly on prairie by only visiting it during summer months to hunt buffalo, grazing on belly high prairie grass. The region was and remains known for severe winters born from an off and on romance between dry Arctic winds blowing south and warm moist air moving north. The colliding union of these two opposing climatic conditions created a progeny of paralyzing blizzards, sub-zero cold and thick blankets of snow.

  The omnipresent prairie wind blew twenty-four hours per day, three hundred sixty-five day a year with unending persistence and velocities ranging from gentle summer breezes to gale force winds able to strike without warning. Between fall and spring equinoxes temperatures can suddenly drop, fortifying the wind to drive numbing cold to the marrow of warm-blooded creatures' bones. Without heavy clothes, a fire warmed shelter and a supple of food, human survival is, or near impossible. Without shelter from the elements and food, domesticated animals would perish.

  It was into this forbidding land Jason Thorn arrived fifteen years before the new century. Jason, in his mid twenties was determined to make something of himself or die trying. He was first introduced to the Dakotas two years earlier while employed by a civilian freight contractor, as a muleskinner driving team of six mules drawing two freight wagons hauling army supplies. During his many treks across the open prairie, Jason used his natural observation talents and an accumulation of collected Indian lore to pry open the prairie's many secrets. When Jason's freight wagon driving job petered out, he decided to become a rancher and put down roots. Spending the winter in Minnesota, Jason consolidated his collected knowledge into planning a summer on the prair
ie. Central to his plan was an inventory of items he would take with him to construct a permanent home.

  In May of 1885, Jason pushed his way west, driving a four-horse mismatched team pulling a wagon loaded with rafter-poles, lumber, a sod cutter, basic hand tools, kitchen equipment, various seeds and food. He arrived at the center of his future ranch with a tired team and an equally tired nearly worn out second-hand wagon.

  During the summer Jason sunk a well, cut sod and built a one-room house located against a south facing hill. After completing his house, he cut and stacked sod to form a combination corral and wind break for animals he planned to bring the following spring.

  Using furrows created when sod blocks were cut from the native prairie grass, he planted garden seeds to test the ground and climate to determine if the combination was capable of producing vegetables. Jason was pleased to find the soil and climate was agreeable for growing a sustainable variety of vegetables. During the summer, easily hunted game provided a plentiful supply of meat for his table.

  When autumn winds began turning cold at the end of September, Jason hitched his now rested well-fed horses to the wagon and headed back to the protected lake country in Minnesota.

  The following May Jason returned with a bride of three months, a bull, six cows, a mowing machine, hay rake, household goods and baby clothes. Baby clothes were included because they expected Jason's wife, Margie, would become pregnant in the near future. If not during summer, long cold winter nights were sure to do the trick.

  It was tough going for Jason and Margie during the first half-dozen years. They were fortunate Margie never became pregnant until their third year yielding a daughter, Alice. Two years later a son, Charles, was born. There were no more children.

  Alice later married a lawyer working the court circuit. Following their marriage, Alice's husband received an invitation and accepted to join a Minnesota law firm. Charles inherited a major share of the Thorn ranch and later purchased Alice's portion.

  Charles married and had two sons, two daughters and ended with Buck, born July thirty-first nineteen twenty-five. He was name Jason Buckley Thorn. Young Jason was probably called by his first name no more than a dozen times during his complete life. Due to his constant erection, within a week the family decided "Buck" would be a more fitting name, which he carried for the remainder of his days.

  Buck experienced the usual problems of maturing and never overcame being spoiled as baby of the family. He was drafted and served in the Army during War Two. Following the war Buck used the G. I. Bill and assistance from his father to purchase a section of land near the family spread and became a life long rancher.

  During his stint in the Army Buck discovered a new life style beyond the prairie, primarily women. He wasted little time putting the source of nickname to use whenever and wherever he encountered an opportunity. He became spoiled a second time by having women gravitate to his country manner of speech and direct approach. Where other men were rebuffed, Buck was encouraged. He seldom lacked for want in satisfying his abundant libido.

  Easy wartime women nourished Buck's ego to the point of him being nearly insufferable. He lost all his original tenderness and respect for women. In Buck's flawed mind they became a throw away object he believed were put on earth for his specific enjoyment. He was quick to develop the 'three F' (find 'em? f? 'em and forget 'em.) philosophy acquired by many men serving in armed services during war times when women were available with no follow-on attachments. This blight in his thinking damaged any possibility of forming a successful relationship in civilian life.

  Four years after returning home from the war Buck married a girl from Antelope he dated during high school. Unfortunately Buck brought his cavalier Army attitude about women to his marriage. Ruby, his new wife, brought her ideas about marriage to their joining and her thoughts were far afield from Bucks. Their marriage quickly evolved into a contest of wills including high volume quarrels punctuated with barnyard language, door slamming, dish throwing and separation. After six months of mini-warfare about the only subject they could agree upon was a mutual uncontested divorce.

  Spending most of his time either astride a cowpony or on the deck of a Johnny Popper tractor in the sun, wind and an assortment of other breeds of weather gave Buck a weathered complexion worthy of a Hollywood makeup artist and hours of time to think. Being an oversexed man, Buck spent most of his time thinking about women, past, present and future.

  During these extended contemplative periods he frequently thought about his past: one failed marriage, a near miss on a couple of more and conquests during his Army years. From these reflections he formulated a philosophy to guide his future relationships with women. Hence forward the only positions a woman would have in his life would ether be holding a broom handle or on her back. Having inscribed this bit of wisdom in his mind, Buck seldom changed his resolve. His decision concerning women held no exceptions. He would use women for his own purposes, but abstained from becoming emotionally involved.

  Having reached retirement age Buck decided it was time to leave chilling winter for a more comfortable climate in southern deserts. His old friend, Gus, abandoned rheumatic stiffening Dakota winters several years ago for the warm sunny comfort of south central Arizona in a small town called Cactus Junction. In order to escape the daytime wrath of his wife, Gus began selling real estate to keep busy and to enjoy solace from his constant cross-threaded wife. It was from Gus 'sporadic sales pitch letters and Coors inspired research sessions in the Cattleman's Bar that caused Buck to reward Cactus Junction with his wintertime presence. Granted Cactus Junction was not the cultured snowbird roosting spot claimed by several other Arizona cities, it made one strong beckoning call to Buck, offered an abundance of space.

  Come October, Buck turned ranch operations over to his hired hand, tossed a packed suitcase behind the seat of a new Ford Diesel pickup and pointed its radiator cap south to Arizona.

  Two days following his arrival in Cactus Junction, Buck looked up the real estate office of his old Dakota friend, Gus. With Gus' persistence and assistance, Buck bought two half-sections of land, divided by the east-west highway about a mile east of town. Gus convinced him the town was going to spread east within the next few years; all he would have to do was wait and snowbirds would make him a millionaire.

  When the land transfer paperwork was complete, Buck bought a mobile home and set it up on a back corner of his newly acquired property. The ink was hardly dry on the deeds when developers noticed his mobile being set up and started pestering him in regard to forming a joint cooperative land development deal. Not being a man to make sudden moves, Buck liked to think things over for a while, believing it best to get a handle on the local business scene and workings of surrounding politics before making any quick moves. After three years of thought and observing local land transactions, Buck allowed it was time to move. Giving Gus a go signal, he didn't have long to wait. Within days he was approached to join a two hundred-unit condominium development project with him receiving fifty completed units as delayed payment on the land. While Buck's voice said yes to the deal, his mind was busy counting dollars.

  Many property developments are brought to completion using the jawbone method of financing which is a short way of saying, 'as few dollars as possible will change hands until the job is completed'. The complex would be built in two stages of one hundred units per stage.

  The first one hundred units of Antelope Gardens were completed just in time for fall snowbirds migration. By the first of November fifty of the developer's seventy-five units were sold. Five of Buck's units were sold and fifteen of the remaining twenty units were leased for the season. For the first time in Buck's life he believed fortune was smiling on him when reading the latest project status report, Buck spoke aloud to himself.

  "This is the first time in my life I've made money without havin' to bust my ass to make it."

 
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