A Good Old-Fashioned Cowboy

by Maisey Yates

  The Rusty Nail looked a bit like a barn, and inside it was decorated to the hilt with every Western thing imaginable: elk heads and rifles mounted on the walls; old Wanted posters and barbed wire; wagon wheels and six-shooters.

  Pru rubbed her hands together. “Okay, who’s going to do a shot with me?” Pru had her sights set on Hope, but Charity surprised them all.

  “I will.”

  “You will?”

  “I’ve never done a shot before. It’s time I learned how.”

  Pru linked arms with her. “Atta girl.” The four of them walked over to the bar. Pru ordered the shots while Kit and Hope got tamer drinks. Pru laughed through instructing Charity on how to do a shot, and the way she coughed and her eyes watered afterward.

  “That’s terrible,” she croaked.

  “I know,” Pru agreed.

  “Hey, Pru,” Hope said over the din of an old eighties country song. “Isn’t that your brother?”

  Pru craned her neck to see where Hope was pointing. Her brothers with Tate and Ford Mathewson.

  And Grant.

  Grant was in a bar. He didn’t look happy about it, but he was there, amidst his brothers and hers. He held a bottle of beer.

  “And some Mathewsons,” Kit added, as they all stared at the group of men. “Can you tell those apart now?”

  Pru scowled at Kit. “Yes.”

  “And is one of them your little helper? No, don’t answer. I can tell by the look on your face he is. The one talking to Beau. Wasn’t he at our graduation party?”

  “I don’t remember,” Pru lied.

  “Oh!” Charity pushed her shoulder. “You should ask him to dance.”

  “I’m not going to...” The denial was reflex, but Pru considered it. Hadn’t she decided she was going to use Grant as a kind of placeholder? He’d probably say no, and then she wouldn’t have to dance. “Good idea.”

  She pushed away from the bar, and went straight for him. “Hey,” she greeted over the din.

  Shock fluttered over his face. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

  “Me? When was the last time you were here?”

  He considered. “A while ago.”

  “So, really, I should be saying I didn’t know you’d be here.”

  He said nothing else, and Pru knew she should blurt out her thing, but she could feel her friends’ and brothers’ eyes on her and—

  “Look,” he said. “I owe you one.”

  She blinked up at him. The alcohol was doing its work, making her body feel warm and loose. Still, she didn’t think she was drunk enough for Grant to be speaking gibberish. “For what?”

  “Lunch.”

  “You had lunch with Beau.”

  “Yeah, but I wouldn’t have if you hadn’t dragged me there.”

  “Well, consider it a thank-you for your help at the store.” Her lungs felt tight, but she ignored it and powered through. “You still want to help?” She found herself holding her breath waiting for his answer. She didn’t care. God, she didn’t want to care.

  “Yeah, I told my family I was taking the day off the ranch tomorrow, so I can be around all day. If you want.”

  “That’d be great. More hands make less work and all that.” She glanced down at his hand which was wrapped around a beer bottle. Big, work-rough, a little scarred. She really shouldn’t have done that second shot. “You’re going to have to dance with me.”

  His eyebrows went so far up on his forehead they nearly disappeared. “Huh?”

  “I need you to dance with me. One song. No big deal.”

  “Yeah, I don’t dance.” He lifted the beer bottle to his lips and took a long swig.

  She could leave it at that. After all, her slip didn’t say she had to dance. It just said she had to ask. But somehow words kept coming out of her mouth. “Look, I have to do it,” she said, pointing to her friends.

  “Why are you agreeing to stuff you don’t want to do?”

  “They’re my friends. It’s for Hope. I...just dance with me.” She grabbed his arm and pulled him, just like she had that afternoon.

  “The whole dragging me around is getting to be a habit. Can’t say I like it.”

  “You’re in my orbit, you get dragged. Riley Rule of Life. You should be used to it.”

  “True enough,” he muttered as they stopped in the small throng of people on the dance floor. “I really can’t dance.”

  But a crooning Patsy Cline song came on. Couples sidled closer together. “I can’t either. That’s why you just sway.” Which meant she had to touch him. Why had she insisted?

  But she wasn’t a quitter. She wasn’t afraid. Pru Riley had balls. She grabbed his hand and threaded her fingers with his. Then she struggled to breathe, which was so utterly unacceptable.

  Where she might have awkwardly grabbed his other hand too, he put it on her hip. He looked about as comfortable as she felt, grimacing as they awkwardly began to sway in time with the music.

  Pru wasn’t sure she breathed. All she could do was stare at his chest. His hand held hers, and his other hand was on her hip. Her body all but vibrated with it. What was wrong with her?

  She glanced up to catch him studying her, a line dug into his forehead. But his eyes were that vivid blue and...

  She thought he was hot. She had all these jangled, tangled feelings about him and the worst part was they weren’t new. They’d always been there. She’d just been out of his orbit for so long she could always convince herself after a trip home that she’d imagined it. Romanticized a childish crush.

  The song ended and she stepped back, bumping into someone behind her. She didn’t even turn to apologize. Her eyes were on his and she couldn’t break away. “Well, thanks,” she managed.

  He shrugged. “Yeah, sure. No big deal.”

  She turned abruptly and moved through the crowd, way too fast to look like anything other than running away. She found Kit and Charity at a table in the corner. She plopped next to Charity.

  Her friends didn’t say anything. They stared at her, but they didn’t say anything.

  Pru dropped her head into her hands. “So, whatever, I’m attracted to him. Big deal.”

  “If it’s not a big deal you wouldn’t be so...what was that word he used?” Charity said, looking at Kit.

  “Squirrelly,” Kit supplied.

  “It’s just weird,” Pru said. Weird. Terrifying. “That’s all. I’ll get over it.”

  “Or you could jump him.”

  “Charity!” the two of them echoed in scandalized shock.

  “Well. Isn’t that what we’re doing?”

  “Jumping things?” Pru sputtered.

  “No, putting ourselves out there. Shaking up those old lives we got caught up in and letting the universe take over.”

  “I’m not jumping Grant.” She sucked in a breath. She didn’t know what she was going to do about this attraction thing. She’d agreed to changing her old life because of Hope—at least that was what she’d told her friends.

  But truth be told, she hadn’t been all that in love with her old life. Shaking it up had sounded...good. Letting the universe take charge hadn’t seemed so bad.

  But changing anything with Grant would require dissecting feelings and... No, that wasn’t an option.

  She grabbed Charity’s arm. “Come on. We need another shot.”

  * * *

  GRANT PARKED IN front of Pru’s store with severe trepidation. For more than one reason.

  After his lunch with Beau yesterday, he’d gone home and told his entire family he wouldn’t be around the ranch today. He’d made a big pronouncement because he’d known if he didn’t act on that feeling of change right away, he would let it slide like he had so many times before.

  It wasn’t like he never looked around and realized he’d let himself f
all into a not-so-great place. It was just that there was always something to worry about, some work to throw himself into. Why try to shift the weight of responsibility on his shoulders when he could stay firmly and comfortably in that place of overworking himself?

  But something about Pru not just telling him his family was capable at the ranch—but that he was causing himself his own problems—without any of the judgment or hurt feelings his brothers came to him with, actually punctured something.

  So, he’d stepped back—it was the only way he knew how to unclench, as Tate so often told him to do—and gone to the bar with Beau last night. He hadn’t gotten drunk like JT and Tate had, but he’d done it. He’d gone out. He’d had a good time, more or less.

  He’d danced with Pru.

  If he’d known what else to do with himself today away from the ranch, he wouldn’t have come. There was too much Pru in his life suddenly.

  He got out of his truck into the warm morning. Clouds were hanging around, and the red brick of her store shone with the rain from last night. Grant hadn’t spent much time in town for the past few years, so maybe that was why it struck him that it was downright pretty.

  He’d never questioned why tourists came to Jasper Creek. Never wondered overmuch how their little town survived and thrived. But he looked down Main Street now, with the flowerpots hanging from second-story porches or arranged next to storefront doors. Wild, colorful blooms spilled over. American and Oregon-state flags waved in the light breeze and some people had decorated with red, white, and blue in preparation for the Fourth. There were only a few empty storefronts left now that Pru and her friends had taken on this stretch.

  A big burly man drove a motorcycle down the street, and Grant had to laugh when he saw that there was a tiny, fluffy dog in the sidecar who was clearly enjoying his ride.

  The man waved, so Grant lifted his hand. Not a local. Someone taking a morning drive and enjoying the scenery.

  He looked back at the store. If Pru was smart, she’d try to reach some of that tourism traffic.

  It was absolutely none of his business what Pru did with her business. He shook his head and pulled open the door, stepping inside. He heard the bell on the door tinkle, and saw Pru wince from where she stood over by that monstrosity of a cash register she’d told him was an impressive antique. He considered it a waste of space.

  “Shh,” she said, pushing fingers to her temples.

  Grant raised an eyebrow. She looked pale and miserable. He didn’t know why that amused him. “A bit hungover?”

  “A bit.” She swallowed as if her stomach was unsteady. “Charity had never done shots before. I felt honor bound to teach her how.”

  “So why aren’t you at home nursing it with a little hair of the dog?”

  Pru pressed a hand to her stomach. “God, my entire stomach just turned over.” She grabbed a water bottle and sipped from it. “You don’t nurse a hangover. You take your punishment as penance and then muddle through whatever you’ve got to do.”

  “You’re pretty big on penance.”

  “Have you met my mother?”

  His mouth curved. “Fair enough.” He moved to the spot they’d designated as trash. It had grown exponentially since he’d been here yesterday morning. She must have done a lot of work after lunch. “All right. This still the trash heap?”

  “Yeah. Got the Dumpsters switched out this morning so it can all go. As soon as my head stops spinning I’ll haul too. I just need a few more minutes of sitting.”

  Grant shrugged, grabbing the first box of spare, rusty parts. “Don’t worry about it.”

  He hauled. She went through stacks of papers, books, and magazines, tossing some of it in a box on the floor, but setting most of it to her side. He shook his head. She was never going to get rid of all this junk if she wasn’t better about throwing things away.

  “Why’d you take the whole day?” she asked after a while. “I’m not complaining, especially in my state, but it’s a big turnaround from yesterday.”

  Grant blew out a breath and thought through his words carefully. How much should he tell Pru? “My brothers are a little tired of me breathing down their necks. I’m kind of tired of it too. But I can’t be there and not...micromanage, Tate would say. So, I have to remove myself if I want anything to change.”

  She was quiet for a moment. When she spoke, she kept flipping through the old magazines, but she did look at him out of the corner of her eye. “You want things to change?”

  “Not things so much as me, I guess. Plenty of things have changed. Cade got remarried. He’s got another kid on the way. Mac’s probably going to propose. There are all these changes around me. But... I’m stuck.” He didn’t know why they were having this conversation, but it weirdly felt okay to talk about it.

  “Well, happy to help by giving you trashman duties.”

  He wasn’t sure how long they worked after that. She got through a hefty amount of smaller stuff sitting there. He got almost the entire pile moved to the Dumpster.

  It felt good. Like he’d accomplished something. It was a strange realization to find the ranch hadn’t given him that feeling in quite some time. Guilt still crept in at the thought—after all, his dad had expected him to love the ranch as he had—but at least here there was no brother to bicker with until the guilt went away.

  “Wanna break for lunch?” she asked.

  He opened his mouth to argue, but she was already digging through a small cooler and tossing baggies onto the counter.

  “I think I can only stomach crackers, so the sausage and cheese is yours if you want it.”

  “Sure.” What was the harm? He found a stool to match hers and pulled it over to the counter. Then they sat there and ate the lunch Pru had packed.

  “It’s starting to look like a store,” he offered.

  “It is, isn’t it?” She looked around, still a little bleary-eyed, but clearly pleased with her progress. “I can’t say I’m looking forward to figuring out where to put things, but I am excited about ordering things and selling things.”

  Grant opened his mouth to tell her that the feed should stay where it had always been. Old-timers didn’t like change. He had a whole list of ideas in his head. He could practically see it.

  But it wasn’t his store. So, he shoved a bite of summer sausage into his mouth.

  “I know you’re trying not to micromanage your brothers, but this can’t be what you’d rather be doing.”

  “This isn’t so bad.”

  “Really? I feel like my brothers would disagree with you.”

  “Your brothers love what they do.”

  Her eyebrows drew together. “You don’t?”

  “I used to love it.” Grant frowned. When he was a kid, he’d never considered anything else. The ranch was it for him. But even before his father had died, the ranch had begun to feel more albatross than calling. “I’m not sure when I stopped. But I just...did.”

  She studied the cracker in her hand. “Yeah, me too.”

  “What happened?” he asked, wondering if she would say something that would make it make sense for himself.

  She shrugged. “I didn’t get a piece of it.”

  Since he knew the story well enough from her brothers, he didn’t ask for details. Or whether she’d ever asked for a piece of it. “That killed your love of ranching?”

  “Soured it some. I guess I didn’t love ranching so much as the Riley ranch. College was fun enough, and then sales. I’m good at sales.” She looked around the store. “I’m damn good at it. And the ranchers around here are going to come here and buy.”

  “I don’t know, Pru.” He knew he was being a downer, but he felt like she didn’t have a full enough grasp on the challenge ahead of her. Forewarned is forearmed and all that. “We haven’t had a feed store in Jasper Creek in years, and there’s a reason the last on
e went under.”

  “Because Mr. Simmons was old and bored and didn’t want to change with the times. I’m none of those things. The key to selling anything is to know thy customer.” She studied him. “Let me guess. Mathewson Ranch. You’ve got a thousand acres or so.” She rattled off a brand of feed, an amount per month, and some other monthly items that were eerily accurate.

  Then she grinned at him. “You don’t have to tell me I’m right.”

  Her pleasure was contagious and he found himself smiling right back. “Then I won’t.”

  They were smiling at each other, when he couldn’t remember the last time he’d sustained a smile like that except when he was alone with his nieces. They never made him feel grumpy or overbearing.

  Pru brought out the same kind of ease in him. He wasn’t sure what to do with it. So, he talked about the store. “You should do gardening stuff too. Supplies for kitchen gardens and the like. That way it’s not just ranchers and you widen your client base. You could have a whole section.”

  “That’s a really good idea. Put it up front so people can see it through the storefront window. Eventually, I want to partner with some ranchers and farmers and either have orders for beef here, or even a little local grocery section.”

  “That’s a hell of an idea. We’ve got the farmers market of course, but you’re open more often.”

  “Exactly,” Pru said, excitement lighting her eyes. He felt a twin pang of excitement inside him.

  They argued about what feed brands she should carry, and it was weirdly fun. He suggested a few more things, and Pru wrote them down in her notebook like she was seriously considering them.

  In the afternoon, they went back to junk removal. There was something satisfying about the way the store opened up more and more. He was starting to think if he could give her a full week of days, they’d have most of it taken care of...minus all the junk she insisted on keeping.

  “I think I’m ready to take off. I gave Hope a ride this morning, and she’ll be ready to head home any minute.”