The Truth About Cowboys

by Jones, Lisa Renee

  I wake Wednesday morning with no word from said asshole, in any version of his asshole-ness. I run again and, not long later, return to Jason’s house to work, hoping he might be home, but his truck is still gone. He’s still gone. Resolved to hang on the moments until his return, Martha and I both get to work. She bakes and I make phone calls to sell-in the apple cobbler cookies with great response. It’s about ten when Craig sends me a text: Deposit made.

  I straighten, eagerness humming inside me, my fingers hitting keys as I check my bank account, and sure enough, the money is there; all of the money is there. Relief followed by conflict races through me. “Martha,” I say, drawing her attention from the whipped icing she’s preparing.

  “Yes, honey?”

  “I need the banker’s information to call and pay him.”

  Her expression goes deadpan. “You got the money.” It’s not a question.

  “Yes, and if I don’t pay now Jason might not let me.”

  “Right.” She sets her spoon down and rushes to a drawer, returning with a card. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

  “Completely. He might hate me for this, but we’ll just get him over it.” I dial the number and I’m forced to leave a message. “I’m calling to pay the money that is past due on the Flying J Ranch. Please call me immediately.” I add my name and number then disconnect. “Now we wait.”

  Martha breathes out a sigh. “I’ll keep trying him.”

  Hours later, it’s nearly four, and desperate to make the payment, I call the reception area of the bank. The banker in question, I am told, is gone for the day. Defeated, I share the news with Martha and we both sigh in frustration. It’s right then that a knock sounds on the front door. I stand up. Brows furrowed. “I’ll get it. Maybe the bank came to us.”

  I hurry forward and open the door to find Allen standing there. “We forgot to set the time for the ride.”

  “Oh right. The ride.” Guilt stabs at me. This isn’t a good idea, not with Jason returning any time now. “Allen—”

  “Don’t say no,” he says. “I know you want to show Jason you can get around this place, and to be honest, I could use some advice about a woman.”

  I soften instantly, and Martha appears by my side. “I think this is a great idea,” Martha says. “You need to learn to ride. You need to get away from work.”

  Surprised at her eagerness to push me on a man other than Jason, I give her a curious look. “What if Jason comes home?”

  “He hates traffic. At this point, if he comes home tonight, he’ll come home late. Go. Have fun.”

  I hesitate, but the idea of learning to ride and getting out of my own head is a good one. Allen needing advice on women, also charming and sweet. “Let’s do it.”

  Allen perks up, and it’s not long before we’re on our way to the stables, where I have a love affair with loving the horses. Allen runs down rules and basic riding etiquette with me, as well as talks me through common mistakes to avoid.

  Finally, an hour later, I’m on a horse named Betsy, and I’m actually riding. It’s amazing, and Allen says that I’m a natural. Who’d have thunk it? A girl who rolls in mud and drops appliances on men is a natural on a horse. About thirty minutes into the ride, Allen circles back toward the stables but has us stop at a river that runs beside them, where he helps me dismount. We sit under a shady tree, and as the wind lifts lightly and the water plays music to our ears, he gets to the advice part of this ride. “About that woman.”

  “Yes,” I say, turning toward him. “Tell me all about her.”

  “Her name is Debbie. She works at the travel store.”

  “I met her. She’s pretty.”

  “She thinks I cheated.”

  “Did you?”

  “No.”

  “Then convince her.”

  “I’ve tried.” I listen as he tells me the story of another woman throwing herself at him and Debbie walking in. “I love her,” he says, setting his hat on the ground next to him. “I’ve lost her.”

  “Do something big and dramatic to get her attention. I promise that she wants you to.”

  “If she says no?”

  “Ask again and repeat. Don’t be stalker-like, but make it clear you’ll try again.”

  The horses start to move around, uncomfortable, it seems. I straighten. “What’s happening?”

  Allen lowers to a squat. “Don’t move, Jessica,” he warns, and that’s when I hear it. That’s when a rattling sound lifts above the flowing water. The horses do, too, neighing and throwing their legs around. Allen pulls a gun I didn’t even know he was carrying, fires the weapon, and while I’m still reeling, jumps to his feet, grabbing one of the horse’s reins. The horse kicks him hard in the leg and he goes flying to the ground. He moans, and I scramble to his side, but not without enduring the sight of a dead snake a foot away, which is better than a live snake a foot away.

  “Get back,” Allen shouts at me, “back from the horses.” He’s dragging himself toward the tree as the horses simply refuse to calm, but he’s barely moving. Still, he tries to grab me and move me. “They’ll kick you, too.”

  He’ll be kicked again if I leave him this close to the horse. I grab him and pull while he lifts his weight. Once he’s safe and the horses are calming, I snag my phone but have no signal. “This area is bad,” he says, groaning in the midst of that sentence. “Holy hell. I think it’s broken.”

  “I’ll run for help. Stay still. I’ll be right back.” I don’t wait for a reply.

  I take off running, and suddenly a horse is on the horizon, a man on top, the pair coming right at me.

  Relief at the sight of help motivates me and my pace quickens as I shout, “Help! Over here!” And suddenly that horse and man prove to be a horse with Jason on top, and he halts the animal beside me.

  “A snake scared the horse,” I pant out, “and the horse kicked Allen. I think his leg is broken.”

  He curses and scowls. “I told you not to date my damn men. Call my grandmother to get a doctor over here.” He jerks the reins and then man and horse are trotting away from me.

  I quickly check my phone, and to my relief I have a signal. Punching in Martha’s number, I will her to answer, and thankfully she does, listening as I ramble and tell the story. “Help is on the way, honey,” she assures me, and by the time she disconnects to make that promise a reality, I’m already running back toward Allen, where Jason is now on the ground next to him.

  Huffing through a breath, I fall on my knees next to Allen and across from Jason. “Help is coming.” I look at Allen. “How are you?”

  “I’ll live,” he says. “Lucky you will, too. Pulling me away from the horses, woman. You could have been killed.”

  Jason’s eyes land on me, narrowing, and anger churns inside me at the way he’d treated me when he rode up. I open my mouth to say as much, but his gaze jerks over my shoulder, and I glance behind me to find about four men running this direction.

  I jerk my gaze to Jason’s and, worried he will be angry with Allen, I say my peace before we’re overtaken by help. “This wasn’t a date. This was him teaching me to ride and me giving him advice on a woman who isn’t me. I didn’t date him, but I could have. We’re not together. You don’t get to tell me who I date or don’t date. And I didn’t cause a damn snake to scare the horse. I’m just not as capable of causing nature to act out as you might think.”

  “Oh shit,” Allen murmurs. “Jason, man. It wasn’t a date. I didn’t—”

  “I didn’t do this,” I say, cutting him off, too angry to shut up now, “but you, Jason, would believe that I did anything with malice.” I’m shaking now, my hands trembling. “Everything I do is wrong and everything that goes wrong is me. But don’t worry, I finally get the message. You don’t want me here. I can’t be here.”

  Shouts sound just behind me now and the men
running toward us are now upon us.

  I back up so they can help Allen and turn away, running toward the parking lot. Done. I am so very done right now. Who was I fooling? I was falling in love while that man was wishing me away. I’m a fool if I don’t listen.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

  Jessica…

  I reach the parking lot of the stables and keep running. I need out of here. I need air. I need to pack my bags, but leaving Jason means leaving Martha. I stumble and catch myself on the ground. Of course, I stumble. I also call snakes to my location and tell them to attack horses and men. That’s who I am. That’s really how Jason just behaved. I start running again. I’ll go to a hotel. I’ll find a place to stay close and help Martha, but I won’t be on Jason’s property. I stumble again and curse as I cross the parking lot to the farmhouse where the feast is held. That’s when a truck pulls up beside me.

  “Where are you going?”

  I glance over to find Roarke as the driver. “Away. I’m going away. Tell him he finally won.”

  “He doesn’t win if you go away. Get in.”

  “No. You’re his friend.”

  “His best friend. Get in. I know him. Let me help.”

  I stop walking. “How are you going to help, Roarke?”

  “By getting you out of the moment and giving you a safe place to calm down.”

  “Are you going to call him and tell him I’m with you?”

  “Not unless you want me to.”

  “I don’t.”

  “Then I won’t,” he says, his dark hair lifting with a slight breeze that I, too, feel at my nape, rushing over my hot skin.

  God, it’s hot. I’m so hot and frustrated and I hurt. Right now, I hurt. “Why?” I ask. “Why would you help me?”

  “Because I’m a good guy.” He motions to the door. “Get the hell in.”

  I hesitate, but I need an escape, and any minute I feel as if someone I don’t want to talk to will trap me. Roarke is safe. I don’t know why, but he is. Maybe because he’s so close to Jason. I race around the truck and climb inside. “Your best friend’s an asshole. If you have a problem with me thinking that, I should get back out.”

  “He was born that way, I think.” He laughs. It’s a nice laugh. A masculine laugh that some might call sexy. I just want to hear Jason laugh again. I like his laugh. I love his laugh. He doesn’t laugh enough. Roarke gives me a wink. “But I think you hold your own pretty damn well.” He places us in gear and sets us in motion.

  A truck pulls past us, and the guy inside waves at Roarke. I’d worry he’d tell Jason I’m with Roarke, but really? Does Jason even care? Probably. I’m disrupting his life. That’s the problem. Everything I do is disrupting his life.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

  Jessica…

  I tell myself that I don’t care what Jason thinks, but I do. Lord help me, I do. I glance over at Roarke, worried about his friendship with Jason. “Jason won’t like that I’m with you.”

  “He has his hands full with Allen right now, from what I hear. I’d text him and tell him I picked you up, but you don’t want me to.”

  “Maybe you should.”

  “Then I will.”

  “I tried to help,” I say. “I got a big contract for Martha’s cookies. Enough to get the ranch on its feet and stay that way for about six months, I think. I’m guessing, but I think.”

  He arches a brow my direction. “Really?”

  “Yes, but he doesn’t know. It happened quickly. It was really the right time and place kind of thing.”

  “But you put yourself in the right time and place.”

  “I suppose so, but do you know that I didn’t call him when it happened? I didn’t want to tell him because he’s angry that I saw the past due bills and feels like I turned Martha into labor to pay his bills.”

  “Ah. He’s a prideful son of a bitch, but I’ll eat my damn hat if that man is upset that you sold a cookie contract. He’s got his guard up. This time of the year—”

  “I know what this time of the year is, Roarke.”

  “Good, then it’s easier for you to understand that it sets him off. It stirs anger and guilt. He’s not himself right now.”

  “He told me that I was using his grandmother. He just—it’s too much. There’s too much that’s happened.”

  “I get it. I can see him being embarrassed over the bills and protective of his grandmother, but he’ll see that you don’t deserve his reaction. He’ll apologize. He’ll appreciate you helping. When did this happen?”

  “Right before he left.”

  “In other words, he left, and you two were fighting.”

  “Yes.”

  “I know him. He cleared his head and he would have apologized, but he returned to you with another man.”

  “Allen is a friend. He’s in love with another woman. I knew that. He was just teaching me to ride.”

  “I get that, but you do know what Tessa did to him, right?”

  “I know quite a bit.”

  “Do you know that the minute things got rough, she went to another man, right here on his ranch? The minute. That bitch didn’t even wait two minutes.”

  I swallow hard. “I know, he told me. God, I shouldn’t have gone on the ride. Martha pushed me to do it. She said—I shouldn’t have, but I’m tired of being afraid to just live, Roarke. I left the city to stop being judged and pushed. Now Jason—he judges. He pushes. I’ve earned trust.”

  “Martha probably wanted to make him jealous to give him a wake-up call, but she doesn’t know what Tessa did. She doesn’t know that Tessa used his own men to punish him for making her stay here. For leaving baseball and putting other people first. She doesn’t know the way Tessa taunted him about this place making him poor and pathetic.”

  My head jerks to his profile. “No. Please tell me no.”

  He pulls us into his ranch property and parks in front of his house. “’Fraid so.” He kills the engine. “She made it the big league or nothing. I think that’s why he’s here not playing ball. She convinced him he couldn’t do both. Hell, part of me thinks he’s still spiting that bitch or maybe he’s proving her right.” He opens his door and gets out.

  I do the same, and when we round the truck he motions me to the stables. “I need to check on a horse. Walk with me.”

  “You’re going to text Jason and tell him that I’m here, right?” I ask, catching up with him. “I mean if Tessa cheated on him, I don’t want him to think you betrayed him.”

  “I haven’t yet, but he knows I wouldn’t betray him, and deep down, he knows you wouldn’t, either.”

  “Maybe he knows that about you, but me? I don’t know. Because when is this about me and not Tessa?”

  “He knows—”

  “I don’t think he does,” I say. “You don’t understand how many times he’s come at me. How many times he’s apologized and yet here we are again.”

  His cell phone rings and he pulls it from his pocket, glancing at the number. “That’s him. Just to confirm. You want me to tell him you’re here?”

  “I don’t know. Yes. I guess. Go ahead. At least that prevents putting you in the middle.”

  “Jessica—”

  “Just tell him, Roarke. Please.”

  He nods and answers. “Yes,” he says, eyeing me. “She’s here. I was about to call you.” He listens. “Yes. I know. Yeah, man.” He hangs up. “He’s getting Allen off to the hospital.”

  “And?”

  “He knows you’re here now. I suspect he’ll be here soon, too.”

  “Right.” I breathe out and hug myself, prepared for the confrontation to follow, not sure I have the energy to do this again.

  Roarke motions to a gated area, and we step to the wooden rail where a gorgeous mustang runs wild. “What makes you the horse whisperer?”

&nb
sp; “YouTube,” he laughs. “The internet these days, it’s nuts, but if I’m the horse whisperer, Jason’s damn sure the baseball whisperer.”

  I burn in that moment to tell him about Jason’s tryout, but I won’t break that trust with Jason. “He’s still good. Really good.”

  “Is he now?”

  “Yes. I’ve seen him throw. He needs to be on the mound. He can do both. He can.”

  “I’m glad to hear you say that. He needs to hear that. I told him I’d look out for his place. He won’t let me.”

  “And I can help. I told him, too.”

  “What about your life in the city?”

  “I’m writing books now and making cookies. I don’t need to be in the city to do that.”

  “What about shopping malls? What about city life?”

  “I can go to Dallas for those things. In fact, I should take Martha on a trip to the city.”

  “You’d have to be here to do that.”

  “True,” I say, and after what just happened with Jason—

  The sound of a vehicle behind me has me turning to find Jason pulling in next to Roarke’s truck. I suck in a breath, and when he exits his truck, my heart lurches. My heart aches with the thought of what Tessa did to him. He takes off his hat and throws it in the truck, his dark wavy hair falling on a brow, framing the hard lines of the mask of unreadable emotions he wears. He stalks toward me, fierceness in every step that still manages to be long-legged swagger. I want to go to him. I want to stay here. I’m conflicted. I’m tired of being judged as Tessa and therefore evil and unworthy. Maybe Jason just isn’t ready for me, for us. And so I stand my ground and then he’s there, taking my hand and pulling me to him.

  “What the fuck are you doing, Roarke?”