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  MISSY’S GENTLE GIANT

  By

  P. D. Miller

  Title: MISSY’S GENTLE GIANT

  Copyright 2009 Penny D. Miller

  Published by the author.

  Pen Line Productions

  Revised July-August 2012

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system is forbidden without the written permission of the copyright holder, Penny D. Miller at Pen Line Productions, www.penlineproductions.com

  This is a work or fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This edition is published by arrangement with the author, Penny D. Miller

  If you have any questions, see needed corrections or wish to see other novels by this author, she may be contacted at [email protected] or www.penlineproductions.com

  For people who like to read and Dinah

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Chapter One

  Ben looked around at the fields of dried up mesquite and shook his head. Damn, it took a long time to get through Texas. Shifting his seven foot frame, he rubbed the back of his neck. Oh, he was doing something he just loved. Yeah right! Driving a damn big rig was the last thing in the world he wanted to do! Why was he such a sucker? All it took was for Whitney to tell him Gonzalo Sanchez from McAllen, Texas, asked for help because they found coke twice on his trucks, and like an idiot, he was wheeling his way down to find out what was going on.

  Hell, he hadn’t even thought of Gonzalo for the past four years, not since they flew back from Iraq together and promised to stay in contact. So much for promises. But Gonzalo running coke? It didn’t fit, not the Gonzalo he knew anyway. Not the Gonzalo who asked his kid sister, Missy, to write to lonely Charger Spinelli for two years. Still a person could change. He shook his head. Not the Gonzalo he knew.

  He looked around at the flat, near barren landscape and shifted uncomfortably. No matter how damn big the truck was, he was tired as hell of sitting and needed more room. Damn, after he left San Antonio everything ended. At least he spent a couple of great nights in San Antonio. His grin widened into a smile. Those chicks were wonderful, and no telling how long it would be before he got back to civilization. No towns, no nothing, well not totally true, but nothing of any size, and since the little town past Falfurrias, nothing at all.

  Ben smiled when he remembered how one time Gonzalo ran into another Hispanic guy in Iraq, and they were surprised as hell to learn they were from neighboring towns. He’d thought the guys were next door neighbors the way they carried on about running into each other. What did they call this area? Oh yeah, the “Rio Grande Valley.” Ben saw a sign just out of San Antonio saying he was heading toward the Rio Grande Valley.

  So far Ben had seen no towns, nothing besides open space, a gas station here and there and an immigration station on the other side of the highway. Ben made a mental note to remember it. Their dogs checked out stuff pretty well. Sixty-five miles to McAllen from Falfurrias and next to nothing in between. He rubbed the back of his neck again, glanced in the rearview mirror after he passed an old battered car on the side of the road, saw some beautiful female legs and stomped on the brake.

  As soon as he stopped the truck, he backed up to get off the road. Those were the prettiest damn legs in the world bent in the front of the car trying to open the hood. What red blooded American male would keep on going rather than help a lady in distress? Certainly not red blooded Italian-American Charger Spinelli! Damn, her body was nice! Those jeans fit her just right. Her dark, almost black hair flowed down to her waist! He kept his eyes on her all the while he backed up the truck. She didn’t even glance his way, and still she must know damn well he was there. Smart chick to ignore just anyone. Oh, now she looks up. Hot damn! What beautiful dimples with her sensational smile. Talk about beautiful! So tiny, perfect figure, just looking at her made him grin. He could hardly wait to get close to her.

  “Got problems?” He walked back from his truck. Dumb question. No answer either. He stopped in front of her. “Got a problem?”

  “Abigail’s plumb wore out.” She smiled.

  “Abigail?”

  “My car—I think she has heat stroke.”

  “Wouldn’t surprise me down here. Sure is hot.” He stared down at the tiny thing standing in front of her beat up car. No taller than five feet, beautiful almond colored eyes, no makeup, and oh, those dimples.

  “Ninety is hot?” She glanced at the back of his truck and grinned. “No wonder, New York plates. You’re a long way from home.”

  “Yeah, didn’t know Texas was so big either. What happened to the—Abigail?”

  The girl shrugged. “Outside of San Antonio she started making these weird noises, especially when I put on the brakes; then she just clunked and quit. I think something fell out.”

  “Yeah? Let me look.” Ben walked over, opened the hood, peered under and poked his fingers around a little here and there. He walked around to the side and dropped to the ground. The girl followed him and bent over watching him roll to his back and slide under the car a little.

  He was the tallest, most muscular piece of hunk she’d ever seen! He was a giant next to her and blew her mind away! Those massive shoulders, the flat stomach, those thighs with muscles stretching his jeans. Whew! Her mother never told her they made men like him. Not that she came from a family of small men. In her family they were all considered tall and well built, ex-football players, but she was sure he was taller than Marco who was six feet. And oh, his beautiful black, scrumptious wavy hair! Those dizzying brown eyes.

  “Miss, you don’t happen to have a wrench; do you?” Ben’s forehead furrowed when he got no response. He rolled his head sideways, saw ten cute little toes twinkling at him from sandals and felt a wild urge to kiss them. “Miss, do you happen to have a wrench?” Nothing again. Ben slid out from under the car. She was smiling down at him, and he saw those dimples and her sweet kissable lips. COOL IT LUNK HEAD! The girl is just a kid, much too damn young for hot blooded Italians. “Miss, do you have a wrench?”

  “In the trunk. I’ll get it.” Quickly she opened the trunk and came back with a tool box. “Pop always teases me because I call everything wacha-ma-call-its and thig-a-ma-jigs. You’d better pick what you want yourself.” She grinned again.

  “Thanks.” Damn those dimples! Ben opened the well stocked tool box and chose the wrench he wanted. He slid back under the car and tried to tighten a nut. It was a mistake. The rod busted and dropped, banging him on the head. “Ouch! Damn! Son of a bitch!”

  Remembering the girl, he bit his tongue. For a few moments he lay under the car watching stars and fireworks go off in his head while he waited for the pain to subside. Rolling his head sideways, he saw those damn little toes still twinkling at him. “Sorry Miss it’s your rear-end.” He slowly slid out from under the car, pulled himself completely out and sat up. Why did she not answ
er?

  “Oh my! What happened to your head?” Her grin turned to frightened eyes and she reached out. Quickly she ran around the car, opened the door and pulled out a jug of drinking water and a paper towel. She poured water all over the towel and came back to him. “Now don’t move. Let me wash this off. Oh dear, what happened?” She dropped on her knees between his sprawled legs and wiped his cut forehead.

  “Abigail doesn’t like me?” He grinned. She smelled wonderful, like springtime. His fingertips willed themselves to touch her, but he clenched his fists and put them behind his back. Clamping his teeth shut the muscles in his cheeks rippled. Her breasts were oh so kissably close. Feeling instant arousal, he clamped his eyes shut.

  “Am I hurting you?” She frowned.

  “No.” Liar. He couldn’t breathe. He should die right there and go straight to hell for what he was thinking, too.

  “There, give me your hand.” She reached out. “Now just hold this towel there for a little while, and we’ll see if the bleeding stops.” His hand was on fire after her touch. He opened his eyes, and she was sitting back on her ankles showing him deep dimples. Color rose to his ears, and he felt dizzy. No one had ever affected him like this.

  “Do you know what’s wrong with Abigail besides not liking you? I sure hope you can fix it, or my brothers are going to kill me.”

  “I said—maybe I didn’t—” Ben shook his head confused. “It’s your—her—rear end.”

  “Is that bad?”

  “Worse than heat stroke.”

  “More serious like a heart attack?”

  “Yeah.” He was saddened to see her smile fade.

  “Oh, oh.” She rose, walked back to where she kept the drinking water and rinsed off her hands, pulled out a paper cup, poured water and brought it to him.

  “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome. Thanks for trying to fix Abigail.” She turned back to the car, poured some water for herself and put the jug inside.

  Ben glanced up at the darkening sky. Before long it would be night. He couldn’t leave a little girl like her stranded on the road. A grin grew on his face. No hot blooded Italian would do something like that. “Look Miss, I’m going to Harlingen and will be glad to give you a lift that far.” He waited a moment for some response. “Look I’m—I don’t usually pick anyone up, but since you’re stuck out here in the middle of nowhere—”

  “What am I going to do now?” She wheeled around suddenly facing Ben, took a deep breath, and smiled. “My name is Melissa and I’m going to McAllen. I know it’s imposing but would you mind terribly giving me a ride to the next gas station, so I can call for someone to get me?” Her face grew crimson. “I wouldn’t ask, but I don’t care to be stuck out here alone.”

  Shock waves shot through Ben and hit his stomach with a punch. She was deaf! “Yes, I would mind, dammit!” He groaned, rose and stomped toward the truck as waves of an unknown emotion whirled through him. “Bring what you need, dammit!” He stopped, took a deep breath and turned to her. “Look I’m sorry—I said it wrong.” Alligator tears welled in her eyes. “I’ll stop at the next gas station and see they pick up your car, but I’ll take you into McAllen myself. Okay? I—I can’t dump you at some damn gas station. Okay?” His imploring eyes met hers.

  “Okay.” She bit her lip and willed her tears to stay away until she could turn from him.

  “Do you have anything you need to take?”

  “A suitcase.” A tear rolled down her cheek, and she quickly turned away in shame. Ben lunged forward, touched her shoulder and turned her around.

  “Got some dust in your eyes, huh?” He smiled warmly and brushed her cheek.

  She nodded and grinned weakly.

  “I’ll get your stuff.” Reaching in the car, he pulled out the keys, rolled up windows pulled out the suitcase and locked it. “Come on Melissa, I’ll take you to McAllen.” He walked up the side of the truck with her. She trembled all over.

  Climbing up, he opened the door, threw her suitcase in the back and reached for her. With absolutely no effort he lifted her tiny body into his arms and put her on the seat. Trying to breathe again, he swallowed hard and glanced down at the ground while she quickly scooted over to the right side of the cab. She looked out the right window and shook like a leaf. Ben climbed inside, started up and pulled out onto the highway.

  They drove in silence for about fifteen minutes, until he spotted a gas station with half a dozen shacks around it and pulled in. He turned off the engine and waited for her to look up.

  “Would you like a coke?”

  “Thank you.”

  “I’m going to call and have someone pick up your car. Where do you want it sent?”

  “Just have them take it to Sanchez Trucking Service in McAllen. My brother Gonzalo will take care of it.”

  “San—” Ben swallowed hard. “Got it.” He staggered into the gas station on rubbery knees. Melissa Sanchez? Missy Sanchez? Gonzalo’s kid sister. Missy and his pen pal in Iraq? No way! NO WAY! Hell, he’d even talked to her on the phone when they got back to the states and this girl was—no way! She must be another sister—maybe married to one of them. It was impossible for her to be Missy; she was only sixteen—a little kid for cripes sake. Ben was still in a state of shock when he came back to the truck. He climbed in, handed Melissa her coke and stared at her. Sixteen plus four equals—twenty.

  “Thank you.” She smiled and showed her dimples. Missy hadn’t shown dimples in her pictures. Had she? She was a skinny little kid with a long braid down her back. Dark hair and almond colored eyes. Beautiful now. “Melissa, how old are you?”

  “Twenty.” She smiled. “And you?”

  “Twenty-eight.” Sixteen plus four equals twenty—and ‘when you grow up Missy, I’ll marry you.’ Had he really written something like that? Ben glanced down at his shaking hands and then out the window to his left.

  “My oldest brother is twenty-eight.”

  His eyes shifted back to her.

  “Yeah? You come from a large family with lots of kids?”

  “Yep. Do you?”

  “No.”

  “Oh.”

  There was a long silence.

  “Excuse me, but since you know my name, could you tell me yours?”

  “It—it’s Ben.” He blinked. Damn, she WAS his Missy!

  “Ben’s a nice name. I like it.”

  There was another long silence while Ben tried to get a grip on himself.

  “Do we have to return the bottles?”

  “Huh?” He looked at her dimples rather than her eyes.

  “I just wondered why we’re sitting here. Do we have to return the bottles?”

  “Oh no, sorry—” Ben held out his coke. “Hold this while I get started.” Quickly he put the truck into motion. Melissa shifted in the seat so her legs were drawn up and she faced him with a smile. The coke rested on her beautiful knee. Ben tried to keep his eyes away from it.

  “This sure is a nice truck. Is it new?”

  “Yeah.” Ben remembered she couldn’t hear and turned his head to face her. “Yeah, it’s new. Cost quite a bundle.”

  “I know, my brother’s always robbing Peter to pay Paul. Repairs cost a lot too.”

  “Robbing Peter to pay Paul?” He smiled.

  “You know, trying to figure out who has to be paid first, who can wait, then borrowing here to pay there and back again. It’s a family business, and lately we’ve run into some snags.”

  “Snags?”

  “Two of our trucks were confiscated.” Melissa bit her lip.

  “How come?”

  “Oh, oh I—I’m sorry, I’m not supposed to talk about it.” Her eyes shifted away.

  Ben reached out, touched Melissa’s hand lightly with a finger, and she looked up.

  “It’s okay. I understand families have personal worries sometimes.”

  “Thanks.” She smiled.

  “Where were you coming from?”

  “I was in school in Austin.”


  “College?” She’d written years ago about wanting to teach.

  “No, it’s a diff—special school to help me learn a trade.”

  “And did you learn one?”

  “Secre—office work. I’ll be able to do bookkeeping and things.” She looked away.

  Ben touched her hand again, and she looked at him. “Is it what you wanted to learn?”

  She glanced down at his giant hand covering hers, started shaking and pulled her hand away. “No I wanted to go to college and—but—” She shifted to look out her window. “My brothers need help in the office.”

  Ben knew the conversation had ended. Here he was working for the DEA who confiscated their damn trucks not, as she thought, the ordinary truck driver on a normal run, and he’d promised her in a letter four years ago he’d marry her. How the hell could he promise her something so stupid? He felt like a heel, the lowest thing on earth and spent the rest of the drive into McAllen telling himself just how rotten he was. Hell, he was here to find out who was pushing coke in her family’s business. Oh well, as pretty as she was, she probably had lots of boy friends and forgot his promise. He ought to be kicked from here to China though, for taking this job.

  “Well we’re in McAllen.” Melissa smiled brightly when they stopped for a light. “You can just let me off anywhere around here.”

  Ben glanced up at her. “No, I’m taking you home.”

  “I wouldn’t advise it.” Her bright smile faded.

  “Where do you live?” He glared.

  “Turn left at the next light.” She stiffened and sat back.

  “Okay, I’ve turned, now where?” Ben tried to catch her eyes, but she looked away and said nothing. He reached out and touched her shoulder until she looked up, shaking again. “Melissa, dammit, where next?”

  “Look, I’m just trying to save your hide.”

  Ben pulled into the right lane, saw a wide place and pulled off the road. He reached up and grabbed Melissa’s shoulders. “Now what the hell are you talking about?”

  “I have a father and nine brothers. I’m the only girl.” Her eyes glistened.