Prologue
Mallory Blackstone held her mother’s cold, dry hand as she watched the green line slowly bounce around on the screen above the bed. According to the nurses, her mother had been talking out of her head for the past two days, speaking to people who had already crossed. They explained this often happened as patients approached their final transition.
She shifted in her chair, wincing when her ribs and other bruised areas let her know that she’d been beaten just hours before. But this wasn’t the time to think about her situation. Her mother was dying and she needed to focus on that. Her mother had met Mitchell, and after he’d left, had voiced her dislike for the first man she’d dated since her husband’s death. Mallory had not said anything to prove her mother’s opinion was correct. The man was an ass.
“I’m here, Mama. I made it,” Mallory said as she rubbed the hand not attached to an IV and the monitors on the wall. “It’s time, Mama. Time for you to go be with Daddy. I’ll miss you, but I’ll be okay. I’ll be fine.”
She was stunned when her mother opened her eyes and looked at her. Her gaze was as sharp and clear as it always had been before she’d been struck down by the rapidly growingcancer that had been discovered only six months before. “Oh, Mallory, I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Of course I’m here. Where else would I be?”
Her mother’s grip tightened around her hand. She took a deep breath before she said, “You have three months to mourn, then I want you to move on. Tell Mitchell to hit the road, you’re too good for him. Go to that resort you were telling me about when you were here last. Follow your dreams. Let passion guide the rest of your life. Promise me, child.”
Mallory swiped at the tears flowing steadily from her eyes. She was amazed that her mother was demanding that promise of her, though she’d been talking about visiting Rawhide Ranch since before Benjamin, her husband of twenty years, had suddenly died two years before. The brain aneurysm exploded as he’d been cutting the grass and he’d been dead before his body hit the ground. She’d thought Mitchell entering her life a few months before had been a godsend, until he started hurting her. And now her mother, her last living relative, was dying of cancer that had been found too late to treat in any meaningful way.
“Yes, Mama. I promise. Three months of mourning and then I’ll go to Rawhide Ranch.”
“Good… girl,” her mother said slowly as her eyes drifted shut.
A few minutes later, the bouncing line on the screen and the beeping of each heartbeat from the monitor began to slow until it was a flat line moving across the screen. Mallory winced when alarms rang out, calling two nurses into the room.
Releasing her mother’s now limp and lifeless hand, Mallory stood and backed away from the bed, allowing the nurses to do their job. Though it had not been unexpected, it still hurt to watch her mother pass from the world.
It took an hour to deal with paperwork to transfer her mother to the funeral home and gather her belongings. At least Mallory had worked with her mother to plan the funeral during a visitseveral months before. All she needed to do once she was back at her mother’s house was add the date of death to the obituary before emailing it to the paper and posting it on her mother’s social media accounts.
After finalizing the arrangements with the funeral home and her mother’s minister, Mallory went onto the Rawhide Ranch website and filled out the paperwork, requesting a two-week reservation for three months down the road.
“There you go, Mama. I’m going to Rawhide Ranch in three months. I just hope I’ll be ready to move on with my exploration and learning by then.”
Chapter One
“I was wondering if there’s a way for me to stay on here instead of going home tomorrow?” she whispered to herself for the hundredth time.
She’d been practicing the question for the last hour in preparation for her meeting with Master Derek, which was to be held as soon as he finished with whoever was currently in his office.
She’d broken up with Mitchell the day before coming to Rawhide Ranch, but for the past few days he’d been blowing up her phone with messages and texts, demanding to know when she was coming home so he could see her. He wanted to “discuss” what had happened between them.
The last thing she wanted to do was explain again that taking out his anger on her, leaving her bruised or bloody was not an expression of love. After blocking his number the night before, she’d decided to see about staying at the Ranch indefinitely.
Waiting on the bench outside Master Derek’s office was nerve-wracking and hearing the smack of a paddle followed by the cry of a Little just added to her dancing nerves. At least she had not found herself on the bench waiting to be punished during her two-week stay. But then, while she was submissive,she was not a Little. Were the visiting submissives punished the same way as Littles? She wasn’t sure she wanted to know.
Knotting her fingers together in her lap, Mallory forced herself to remain still and focus on her breathing as she waited. She’d fulfilled her promise to her mother and come to Rawhide Ranch. What she had not expected was to fall in love with the Ranch, the people who called it home, and the world of BDSM.
The last thing she wanted right now was to return to her empty home and the stress of living in a town most of the residents called the buckle of the Bible Belt. A town where the closest BDSM club was a hundred miles away.
Thanks to her inheritance from her mother, she had the money to stay at Rawhide Ranch for an extended period, but she needed more in her days than taking classes. She hoped to find a way she could work for her room and meals while staying and learning more about this new world she found herself in.
Being at Rawhide Ranch was a dream come true. Not only had she enjoyed taking classes, playing with the animals, and making new friends, she’d found herself starting to draw again. Her soul had been in so much pain after her husband’s death, she’d stopped drawing. Her mother’s passing had added to the creative block that had kept her from producing any new artwork in more than two years.
Between her inheritance from Benjamin and now her mother, she had more than enough to live on comfortably for the rest of her life. She did not need to return home and find a job, but she needed more balance in her life. And if she could find something that would help her not think and worry about every little thing, that would be great, too.
Watching the activities going on in the beautiful, Western-themed lobby, Mallory wished she’d brought her sketchbook and pencils with her. Then she could fill these anxious minutes of waiting by sketching the chairs and couches set in clustersaround the big, high-ceilinged room or the central fireplace that was filled with arrangements of spring flowers instead of a fire.
Mallory was so lost in thought she did not notice the young woman emerge from Master Derek’s office and scurry toward the hallway that led to the Littles’ Wing. She jumped when a large, warm hand settled on her shoulder.
“Miss Blackstone? Mallory? Are you waiting to see me?”
She surged to her feet and smoothed her hands down the sides of her legs. Looking up at Master Derek, she took in bright blue eyes and brown hair that was beginning to gray at the temples. His full beard was more salt and pepper than his hair, giving him a distinguished air.
