Bourbon & Branch Water Read Online Free

little sheepish. “We
don’t do that often, Mr. Hand. We have a…particular relationship. I wear the
pants in the family. It’s an agreement Nan and I made years ago, before we got
married.”
    Jeff nodded. “No need to explain.”
    “It works for us. I don’t expect
other people to understand.”
    “Really, it’s okay. I can see that
you two are close. Does the…the…um…”
    “Spanking, son, that’s what it is.”
    “Yes. Yes, of course. Well, does
that settle things?”
    “Almost always, it reminds her of
her contract with me, to respect and obey, and sometimes it leads to other
things more pleasant.” Now it was Leland’s turn to be a little embarrassed.
    Maybe they should move on to
business, though the idea of having a relationship like the Randolph’s’ was a
very interesting thing for Jeff to contemplate. “Thank you. Now, let’s discuss
the matter you hired me for.”
    * * *
    Stormy raced along the highway,
trying to get to the Porterman’s spread on time. It
was her first real legal case as a lawyer and she wanted it to go perfectly.
She’d worked for this ever since her first year in college, through law school,
and then three years as a law clerk in Montana. Mr. Holyfield, her boss and the
senior partner in the small law firm in Fire Gorge, had warned her that she’d
better do a good job on this. He’d said it in a kind way, he was a kind man, but
she knew there was a thread of advice in there, too. She’d better do well or
she’d be back performing clerical duties again. There was only one law practice
in Fire Gorge. The next closest was clear in Las Vegas, and she didn’t want to
go that far from home each day. She had to make this work.
    The Porterman farm lay on a bend of Cicada Creek. It was a big spread with crops and a small
herd of fancy Piedmontese cattle. From what Stormy
could see as she passed through the farm road along its macadam thoroughfare,
it was carefully tended. She wasn’t much of an expert on farming or ranching,
but she could tell that the Portermans were doing
okay. Maybe they weren’t the richest farmers in the county, but they weren’t
poor either.
    Despite the day’s heat the front
door was closed tight when Stormy arrived. Her knock was answered after a few
moments, and she was greeted by Ella Porterman .
She’d met the woman before, when the Portermans had
come to Holyfield, Ramus and Fyne to hire an
attorney. Ella had classically beautiful features, she
was a tall woman, several inches taller than Stormy’s five-foot-six, but a whole lot more willowy and narrow. Although Stormy was by
no means heavy, she had the kind of curves that Marilyn Monroe was famous for.
Stormy and Ella were exact opposite versions of what the male population
considered pretty. Unfortunately for Stormy, their attractiveness to men was
about all they had in common and finding a friendly welcome was highly unlikely.
Ella was bossy, manipulative and shrill. Her voice reminded Stormy of the
Wicked Witch of the West, and her attitude wasn’t much better.
    Well…one couldn’t necessarily pick
one’s clients. Faced with making the best of it or going back to her law clerk
status, Stormy opted to do whatever it took to deal with the Portermans , including Ella.
    Patting a lock of blonde hair that
wasn’t out of place, Ella Porterman looked down her
nose at Stormy. Stormy knew it was because she was a Paiute, with Paiute
features. Too many of the people in the county thought of the Native Americans
as lazy and irresponsible but that wasn’t true. The Paiutes were much like any
other people; they worked hard and tried to prosper. They worshipped and
struggled. Her own father had built a small business, a construction company on
the reservation. He had his problems, but when he’d been alive he’d tried hard.
That meant something and deserved a modicum of respect.
    The fact that Stormy was only a
junior lawyer in the firm didn’t help matters but Ella might not have