Forever a Stallion

After Marah Briscoe’s marriage to business tycoon John Stallion, Edward had given the property to his daughter and new son-in-law, her love for a Stallion ending the conflict that had brought the couple together in the first place. Under the Stallion family umbrella, Briscoe Ranch was growing steadily and now a point of consideration for a number of government programs to assist children and families in need. The ranch was home to them all, and the pride and joy of both families.

“This is something!” Mason said, tipping his head toward John and Matthew, who’d settled down beside him.

John laughed. “Marah’s father, Edward, has been hosting this event since forever. Every year we’re amazed at just how big it’s gotten.”

Matthew nodded his concurrence. “At the rate we’re growing, I’m afraid we might run out of land to accommodate everyone,” he said jokingly.

John and Mason both laughed with him.

“So, what then?” Mason queried. “Will you buy the state of Texas?”

John grinned broadly. “Maybe Mexico, too, especially if we keep allowing these women to be in charge!” he mused.

Laughter rang out among them, the three men clearly having a good time.

From a safe distance across the way, Phaedra adjusted the lens on her camera, focusing her sight on the two brothers seated beside each other. She snapped a photo and then a second one before letting the camera rest back against her chest, hanging from a secure leather strap around her neck.

The rodeo event had been a stroke of luck for her. Access to the ranch and the Stallion men had come with minimal difficulty. From the moment Phaedra had stepped onto the property, the brothers had been front and center, taking their hosting responsibilities seriously. Without needing to ask, Phaedra had been able to identify the four of them almost instantly.

From the back pocket of her denim jeans, Phaedra pulled out the photograph she’d found in her mother’s possessions, glancing from them to it and back again. There was no mistaking the Stallion lineage detailed in their facial features, each son the spitting image of his father, and hers. Their resemblance to her was even more startling. From the warm coloration of their black-coffee complexions, chiseled jawlines, plush pillows for lips and warm, endearing smiles, Phaedra saw hints of her own reflection. She had their eyes, the same nose, high cheekbones and mouth. Had she inherited her father’s dark complexion instead of her mother’s milk-chocolate tone, she would easily have passed for a Stallion twin. Phaedra took a deep breath as she suddenly fought not to cry.

Lifting her camera back to her eyes, she peered through the lens, once again pointing it toward where the brothers sat. She focused her gaze on one and then the other. She watched as the brother on the end leaned over to exchange conversation with a man who sat on his sibling’s other side. Phaedra shifted her camera and refocused it, zooming in on the stranger. There was something about the handsome man that suddenly had her curious. She couldn’t help wondering who he was, his brilliant smile warm and magnanimous.

Whoever the man was, he was quite good-looking, Phaedra thought as she spun the lens into focus, snapping a quick shot and then a second. The trio seemed quite friendly with one another, clearly enjoying the events playing out in the center of the arena. And then, as if his radar had sounded an alarm, the man suddenly looked up, his gaze shifting directly toward her as if he knew she was staring at him. Phaedra lowered her camera abruptly, feeling as if she’d gotten caught with both hands in the cookie jar, her palms overflowing with her favorite oatmeal-raisin treats. She pulled her hands through the length of her hair. The moment was slightly unnerving.

From the ground below, Phaedra suddenly heard her name being called, the sound of it startling her from her thoughts.

“Phaedra? Is that you? Phaedra Parrish!”

Glancing below, she caught sight of the red-haired white man waving wildly for her attention. His own cameras hung down against his side as he struggled not to drop them. Phaedra’s eyes widened brightly, the familiar face warming her spirit.

“Hooper!” Phaedra squealed, waving back. She eased her way down from the bleachers to move to the man’s side.

With his mane of fire-engine-red hair and the pipe that hung from his mouth like an appendage, Hooper Mars was a welcome sight, looking more like a lumberjack right out of the thick of a deep forest than the award-winning photographer that he was. Hooper’s brilliant smile put Phaedra instantly at ease. As she stepped off the last plank, the man wrapped her in a deep bear hug.

Her mentor in art school, Hooper was single-

handedly responsible for Phaedra changing her major from creative writing to photography. The two had become fast friends, he challenging her creative spirit and she excelling beyond his expectations. Phaedra’s successful career had only been rivaled by his.

“Watch the camera!” Phaedra laughed, lifting the device above her head as she hugged him tightly.

“Nice equipment,” Hooper responded, eyeing her Canon 5D Mark II full-frame camera with its long telephoto lens.

Phaedra adjusted her Lowepro camera backpack against her shoulder. “Thanks. What are you doing here?” she asked, surprise still ringing in her tone.

“Working. You?”

“Not working!” Phaedra said with a smile.

“So, what brings you all the way to Dallas and to here of all places?”

Phaedra hesitated, her shoulders shrugging skyward. “I was just passing through town before I head to my next gig in Thailand and I heard about the rodeo. Thought I’d stop by to check it out. See what I might be able to shoot,” she said, hoping she sounded believable.

Her friend nodded his understanding. “I was really sorry to hear about your mother, Phaedra. She was a really sweet lady.”

Phaedra took a deep breath and forced her mouth into a slight smile. “Thanks, Hooper. And thank you for the flowers! I really appreciated you thinking of me.”

“Hey, what are friends for?” the man said. There was a sudden rush of noise behind them as the audience cheered something going on in the center of the arena. Both Phaedra and Hooper both turned to stare as a horse and rider went through their paces.

“I should be shooting this,” Phaedra said absently, her gaze shifting for a split second toward the stands and the men who were still sitting in observation.

“Speaking of shoot, I loved that LeBron James layout you did for Sports Illustrated. Creative, challenging, technically proficient. That was some nice work, woman. That shot where you had him hanging upside down from the basketball hoop was seriously dope!”

Phaedra turned her attention back to her friend. “Thank you! It was fun to do and LeBron was a dream client. So, what are you working on here?”

“I’m here to shoot the wedding.”

Phaedra eyed him curiously. “What wedding?”

“The Stallion wedding. I’m the wedding photographer.”

Phaedra laughed. “I didn’t know you did weddings.”

Hooper shrugged. “I usually don’t, not in a good long time, but I bend the rules for my very special friends. The bride,” he said, lifting his eyebrows, “is Joanne Lake. We were roomies for a short time back in Cali when she was going to art school and I was aspiring to make movies.”

“I didn’t know you made movies.”

Hooper laughed. “It was a very short porn career because I was very short.”

Phaedra shook her head, laughing with him. “So, this Joanne Lake is getting married to one of the Stallions?”

“Yep!” Hooper nodded. “The youngest brother, Luke Stallion. Great guy! They make a nice couple.”

Phaedra felt her heart skip a quick beat. Knowing where she fell in the lineup of Stallion offspring had been a point of angst for her mother. During their short tryst, James Stallion had been married, the truth of that coming as a complete surprise. Although he’d been separated from his wife during the time they were together, the revelation of his marital connection had not sat well with the matriarch. James returning to his wife and three older sons had been earth-shattering, completely devastating Arneta’s world. Now here Phaedra was, discovering that her younger brother was about to be married. She took a deep breath, holding it for a brief moment before blowing the air out slowly.

“Hey,” Hooper said suddenly. “What are you doing tonight? You interested in working?”

Phaedra lifted her eyebrows questioningly. “What do you need?”

“I have an assistant who will be helping me, but I could always use another photographer. You interested in working? I mean, since you already have your equipment with you.”

“At the wedding?”

“The wedding and the reception. You game?”

Taking another quick glance toward where the Stallion men were seated, Phaedra suddenly saw opportunity where none had existed before. Unable to resist, she took note of the handsome stranger one last time, then without a second thought nodded, her answer emphatic. “Yes!”

* * *

Joanne Lake stood in the center of the room, a hand fanning in front of her face as she tried to catch her breath.

“I swear,” she said, breathing heavily, “I’m so nervous that I can’t breathe!”

Marah laughed, moving to the young woman’s side. “I felt the same way when John and I were married,” she said, remembering the moment as if it had just happened. “Just take a deep breath, hold it and relax. Everything is going to be perfect.”

“Absolutely,” Joanne’s mother, Lillian Taylor, echoed as she slowly laced the back of her only daughter’s wedding gown. “Everything will be beautiful, ma fille chéri,” the woman said, the warm lilt of her deep French accent comforting.

Tears misted in Joanne’s eyes as she took in her image in the mirror. The gown she’d designed for herself accentuated every ounce of her curvaceous frame. She was an absolutely stunning bride in the silk-and-organza creation and she couldn’t wait for Luke to see her coming down the aisle that very first time. She took in a deep breath, fighting to ease the rise of nervous energy.

There was a low knock at the door and Marah’s older sister, Eden, moved to see who was waiting on the other side. When Eden pulled the entrance open, Phaedra was smiling brightly, waving her camera in greeting.

“Hi, I’ve come to take some preliminary shots of the bride, if that’s okay?” Phaedra said, meeting Eden’s questioning gaze.

“Oh, yes, definitely,” the woman responded as she reached for Phaedra’s hand and pulled her into the room. “Your timing is perfect.”

Phaedra nodded as she entered the space, the women inside all turning to stare in her direction. Joanne’s bright smile eased the moment.

“Hi, I’m Joanne. Hooper said you’d be coming. It’s such a pleasure to meet you,” she said excitedly.

“It’s nice to meet you, too. My name’s Phaedra. Phaedra Parrish,” she said, pausing momentarily as if she hoped there might be some recognition that she was family, too. “Congratulations!”

“Thank you,” Joanne intoned. “Thank you so much. Well, just tell us where you want us.”

Phaedra smiled back. “I just want you to finish getting dressed. Just interact the way you were doing before I arrived and pretend I’m not even here. The best shots are those where you’re most natural, so just be yourself.”

Joanne nodded as her mother moved back to lacing the last few ties on her gown. As she did, Phaedra lifted her camera and took a quick shot. She began to slowly move around the room, snapping photo after photo of Joanne and her bridal party as they completed the finishing touches on their makeup and hair. It was an extravaganza of ivory-colored lace, chocolate charmeuse and tan chiffon.

“This is so exciting!” Katrina commented, smoothing the front of her own gown across her pregnant belly.

“This family has definitely had its fair share of weddings and baby showers!” an elderly woman intoned. “It’s been a blessing!” She swiped at a tear that pressed anxiously at the edge of her eye.

Phaedra paused to look where the voice had come from. Seated on the couch was a woman close to her mother’s age. She looked quite smart in a two-piece dress suit the color of sweet tea. She smiled when she saw Phaedra staring. Phaedra smiled back as she lifted her camera and took a snapshot of the woman’s smiling face.

“Don’t you start crying, Aunt Juanita,” someone scolded. “If you start you’ll have us all crying up in here.”

The women all laughed, the warmth of it echoing around the room.

“Y’all know I’m gonna cry,” the woman named Juanita said. “The last of my babies is getting married,” she said with a loud sniffle. A blanket of silence dropped down against the room as they all stopped to take in her comment.

Phaedra’s gaze danced from face to face as she took them all in. Juanita caught her staring and Phaedra fiddled with her camera as the woman stared back.

“Are you from around here?” Juanita asked, her question directed at Phaedra.

The young woman met the matriarch’s curious gaze. “No, ma’am. I’m from New Orleans,” she said softly.

Juanita smiled, still staring. “You look like you could be related to the family,” she said, “like one of the cousins. Doesn’t she?” Juanita queried, moving the rest of them to turn and stare a second time.

Joanne glanced in Phaedra’s direction. “You really do,” she said with a slight giggle.

Phaedra only smiled, resuming her picture-taking.

Marah interrupted the moment. “It’s time, ladies. This wedding will start on time,” she said, her tone commanding as she shifted into wedding planner mode.

There were nods of agreement as each woman paused to take one last look at her reflection in the wall of mirrors that decorated the space.

The woman they called Aunt Juanita stood up, moving to the center of the room toward the bride, who suddenly looked as if she’d turned two shades of green.

“Everyone join hands,” Juanita said as she gestured for them to move into a circle around Joanne.

Phaedra moved back against the wall, mindful not to intrude upon the moment. She listened intently as the woman began to speak, her camera at eye level as she captured the moment on film.

“This family is a beautiful thing to behold,” Juanita said. “I have watched John, Matthew, Mark and Luke grow into wonderful men. I know that if their parents were here today they would be very proud. Each of them has chosen an amazing, wonderful woman to carry the Stallion name and be with them by their sides. They got that from their daddy because their mother, Irene, was an amazing woman and the best friend I could ever have had.”

Juanita paused to press a lace hankie to her eye. Her gaze paused on each face as she called out their names. “Marah, Michelle, Katrina and now Joanne, each of you is the most important thing in your husband’s life and the lifelines that will continue this family. Don’t you ever forget it and don’t ever let anyone tell you otherwise.

“Marah, business is important to John, but it will never be more important than you are. Mitch,” she said, calling Michelle by her family nickname, “I never thought there would be anyone who could tame that wild Stallion, but you did, and Mark’s love for you and that baby girl of yours has no limits.

“Katrina, you told me on your wedding day that Matthew seduced you, but you’re the one who actually swept Matthew off his feet. I have never seen him happier.” Juanita reached for Joanne’s hand, squeezing the woman’s fingers beneath her own. “And now our baby boy is getting married. Joanne, you and Luke were both lost until you found each other’s arms for support. He is a better man because of you and I couldn’t be more proud.

“So, baby girl, you enjoy every minute of this very special day. May you and Luke grow in your love for each other and may you both find joy and happiness for the rest of your days. Welcome to our family. We love you and we couldn’t be happier for you both.”

“Amen to that,” Marah chimed, everyone echoing those sentiments.

Joanne fanned her hands in front of her face, fighting not to bawl like a newborn baby. “Thank you,” she said, fighting back the tears. “I love you all so much,” she said as her mother wrapped her in a warm embrace.

Juanita moved toward the door. “Well, let’s go get you married!” she said, the rest of them following behind her.

And as they moved out of the room, in the direction of the family chapel, Phaedra swiped the tears from her own eyes, snapping one more photo for the Stallion wedding album.

Chapter 4

Mason Boudreaux was all partied out as he moved from the tented reception area back toward the Stallion family home. Guests were still enjoying the Stallion hospitality as they moved from the banquet tables laden with a surplus of food to the dance floor and back again.

Outside, the sun was in the final moments of its descent, the backdrop of a darkening sky heightening the rise of an almost full moon. Small white lights twinkled from the trees that lined the property, casting a seductive glow over the landscape. Looking out over the magnificent view, he couldn’t help being touched by the magnitude of it all. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the warm evening air.

As he slowly strolled in the direction of the family’s home he couldn’t help noticing the beautiful woman who stood with her camera in hand snapping photographs. He had noticed her earlier in the day as she’d taken photographs of the crowd at the rodeo and he’d noticed her during the wedding ceremony and again at the reception. In fact, so in awe of her, he’d spent a good deal of time noticing her, almost forgetting why he was there in the first place.

The exquisite woman was casually dressed in black slacks, a white button-down dress shirt and red Durango cowboy boots. The slacks were cut low against the curve of her round hips and she had the tiniest waist of any woman he had ever seen. Having more leg than torso, she appeared model-tall despite her petite stature. The lengthy appendages gave her the lean, lanky look of a gazelle, and the curvature of her full bustline showed that she clearly had more than a handful. Her flawless complexion was milk chocolate, so rich and decadent that with her distinct features he could easily see her posing on the other side of any camera.

He wasn’t quite sure what she was focused on as she stared out in the distance, but with the large telephoto lens and the light that flashed with each snap he was intrigued, curious to discover who she was and what she might be up to.

He casually strolled to her side, his movements so stealthlike that Phaedra didn’t notice him until he was standing directly behind her. She jumped, suddenly taken by surprise as the man stepped into her space.

“Good evening,” Mason said, a bright smile warming the curvature of his face.

“You scared me,” Phaedra gasped, pressing a hand to her chest.

Mason’s smile brightened. “My apologies! I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“That’s what usually happens when you sneak up on a person,” she said, her heart still racing.

“I wasn’t sneaking,” Mason said casually. “You were just distracted. What are you photographing?” he asked as he looked off toward where she’d been staring.

Phaedra was still eyeing him with reservation. When he cut his eye at her and back toward the landscape, a wave of heat suddenly coursed up the length of her spine. He cut his eye at her a second time, a wry smile pulling at his full lips as he waited for her reply.

Phaedra tilted her camera so that he could see the LCD display, depressing the display button so that he could view the images she’d just taken. “Foxes,” she said nonchalantly. “There was a family of red foxes scurrying along the fence line.”

The man nodded as he met her gaze. “Interesting,” he said, his deep voice echoing through the evening air. He extended his hand. “I’m Mason Boudreaux,” he said as he wrapped Phaedra’s fingers beneath his own.

“Phaedra,” she answered, the heat he radiated causing her to take a swift breath. “Phaedra Parrish.”

“It’s very nice to meet you, Phaedra Parrish.”

Phaedra smiled, hoping he wouldn’t notice the blush that heated her cheeks. “The pleasure is all mine, Mason Boudreaux.”

“You have a very distinct accent,” Mason said, noting her deep Southern dialect with its hint of French Creole syntax. “Where are you from in Louisiana?”

“Good ear,” she said, smiling sweetly. “New Orleans. Born and raised.”

He chuckled softly. “Me, too, although I live in Arizona now.”

“I don’t hear any accent,” Phaedra said, eyeing him with a raised brow.

Mason laughed, shifting into the familiar phonology. “Y’all headed up da house o’ ova back da fields?”

Phaedra laughed with him, the warmth of the sound teasing. “So, why Arizona?”

Mason became pensive, hesitating in reflection for a brief moment. “My family was displaced after Hurricane Katrina,” he finally said, noting the 2005 category-five storm that had been one of the worst natural disasters on record. “I’d already had a house there and my parents decided to stay when their home was destroyed.”

“They didn’t want to go back?” Phaedra questioned.

Mason shrugged. “They did and actually, they’re back and forth as it suits them. We’re still rebuilding the family home, but it’s been slow going. That storm really broke their spirits for a bit. And it didn’t help that my sister shared its name,” he said with slight chuckle. “For whatever reasons, they haven’t been in any rush.”

Phaedra nodded her understanding. “My mother refused to leave. I was traveling so much for business that she couldn’t imagine herself being able to adjust anywhere else. It took everything we both had to repair the damage after the storm, but it was worth it. New Orleans was her home and she was determined to live out the rest of her life where she was happiest. She passed away a few weeks ago,” Phaedra said, her voice catching in her throat as she thought about her mother.

“My condolences,” Mason said, taking a step in her direction. He drew his hand against the length of her arm. “I’m very sorry for your loss.”

Phaedra nodded ever so slightly. His touch was so powerful that her mind suddenly turned to mush. Phaedra couldn’t begin to fathom why she was reacting so intensely. She took a deep breath as she took a step back, suddenly needing to put some distance between them.

Feeling the same thing, Mason crossed his arms over his broad chest, locking his hands beneath his armpits. He hadn’t meant to be so forward. There was a brief pause as both pondered how to move past the awkwardness of the moment.

“So, did you enjoy the wedding?” Phaedra asked, wanting to move the conversation in another direction.

“I did. How about you?”

She nodded. “They throw quite a shindig around here.”

Mason laughed. “Yes, they do.”

“Are you family?” Phaedra asked, curiosity tinting her words.

“By marriage. My sister Katrina is married to Matthew Stallion.”

Phaedra’s head bobbed against her thin neck a second time. “Your sister, she’s pregnant.”

“You’ve met?”

“Not formally. She was with the bride when I took photographs earlier and I noticed.”

The man nodded. “This will be her second child, their first baby together. We’re all very excited. So, are you related to the Stallions?” Mason asked, having noted a resemblance between Phaedra and the brothers.

There was an awkward pause as Phaedra turned to stare out into the distance. She suddenly wished there was someone with whom she could share her story. Mason appeared to have a compassionate spirit, the breadth of it tempting Phaedra to drop her guard and spill her secret. But Mason’s connection to the Stallions made him a highly unlikely ally. After a pause, Phaedra gave a deep sigh and said nothing at all, pretending as though she’d not even heard the question. She lifted her camera, aimed it directly at Mason and snapped the shot, once, twice and then a third time.