Cowboy Heaven

by Cheryl L. Brooks

  I told the guys to be ready for a Saturday night on the town but didn’t say a word to Rufus. If they wanted him to know, they could tell him. I couldn’t help feeling ridiculous tiptoeing around a man who was as much my employee as he was my father’s, but I’d been in awe of Rufus for most of my life. Coming right out and telling him I was in love with one of the men he’d tried so hard to keep away from me wouldn’t be easy.

  I still didn’t completely understand the reason for my reticence. When I was younger, yes, but now? It seemed unnecessary, although perhaps it had simply become a habit. Suspecting he was behind Dusty’s mishaps was the most likely reason, but Rufus might not have been to blame at all. Bull could easily have been the culprit and was getting back at Dusty for all the ribbing he’d given him over the years.

  Still, it seemed odd for him to choose this particular time to take his revenge—just when I’d finally begun to realize Dusty was the man for me. I couldn’t accuse Bull or Rufus of trying to harm Dusty. I had no proof, I had only suspicion, and I couldn’t go around dropping hints without some good, solid evidence—especially since those accidents might have truly been accidents.

  For one thing, I’d never known any of the men to mess with snakes enough to be able to safely stow one in a pickup truck. And while Joe’s suggestion of how the saddle might have been tampered with was feasible, there was no proof of that, either—and there never would be unless someone confessed to having done it. There might have been motive—albeit rather flimsy—and opportunity, but there was still no proof.

  * * *

  Jenny drove over on Thursday afternoon to see Delight. She owned the stud—a stunning creature I would have given my eyeteeth to own—which made her something of a grandmother to the foal. Jenny swore she would never part with that horse for any price, but I may have gotten the best end of the deal. Delight had a lot of potential, aside from being a palomino. Unless he turned out to be a holy terror as a stallion, I would never give some veterinarian the opportunity to cut his balls off and throw them in a tree, which is what my vet normally did when he castrated a horse.

  I was rather shocked the first time I saw him do it, and though I did retrieve one of them to give it a proper burial, I couldn’t reach the other one, so I suppose the birds ate it. Still, it struck me as being a rather nasty thing to do to someone. I would have thought a man would have more respect for the testicles of another male, since, generally speaking, they go to such lengths to protect their own. I mean, you never hear one man saying to another, “I’m gonna cut your balls off and throw them in a tree,” even as a threat.

  Jenny was quite envious of the new addition to the family and made no secret of the fact that she wouldn’t mind having one like him.

  “He’s a keeper,” she declared.

  “You bet he is,” I said. “He’s not going anywhere.”

  After a quick glance over her shoulder, she aimed a conspiratorial smile at me. “Speaking of men you’d like to keep, where’s the cowboy I’m supposed to have sent you?”

  “Out working somewhere,” I replied. “Which reminds me…there’s something else I wanted to talk to you about. I’m taking the guys out on Saturday. Most of them don’t have cars of their own, so they usually end up at strip joints with Bull. God knows Rufus would never take them anywhere. Anyway, I wanted to take them someplace nice where they could meet women they might be able to have more lasting relationships with, if you catch my drift. What’s the name of the place you and your friends go to?”

  “Cactus Bill’s,” she replied. “It’s not too wild, unlike some other honky-tonks I could name. We go there most Saturday nights.”

  I smiled at her pronunciation of the word “nights,” which served as a continuing reminder of her Texan heritage.

  “Sounds perfect. Think you could be there this Saturday? My cowboys need someone to dance with besides me.”

  “Wouldn’t miss it,” she said.

  “Apparently Rufus has been trying to discourage the men from so much as glancing in my direction ever since I was a teenager. I can’t help but think he’s gone about it the wrong way. He should’ve been encouraging them to go out partying instead of sitting around the bunkhouse with me being the only woman in sight. He would have had no worries at all, because I know there are lots of prettier women out there—yourself included.”

  She denied being more attractive than me but seemed pleased to hear it, nonetheless. She was also younger, which was another point in her favor. Although Jenny and I were about the same size, my hair was straight and dark while hers was a soft, light brown that fell in spiral curls down her back. She had an open, expressive countenance with one of the more kissable-looking pairs of lips I’d ever seen and a charming smile. To meet her, you might at first think she was rather quiet and shy, but upon further acquaintance, she would often surprise you with the frankness of her speech, particularly about her sexual desires. Unfortunately, while she liked men as a group, she hadn’t managed to find the right individual as yet. The stories about her ex-husband were legendary, containing every reason why a woman should never marry.

  “I’ll be sure to dance with all of them,” she said. “Any guys with handlebar mustaches?”

  I rolled my eyes. “I’ve never understood why that is so important to you, Jenny! You married two men with mustaches and divorced them both. You need to use better criteria than that for choosing a husband.”

  “Oh, I know,” she protested, laughing. “But mustaches are so sexy. I lose my head.”

  “Try keeping your head for a change and look at the men themselves, rather than their facial hair. You might have better luck if you go by, oh, I don’t know…” I paused, tapping my chin. “Personality maybe? Or character?”

  Not surprisingly, Jenny responded with a grimace. We’d had that same discussion a time or two before. I hoped I could come up with a good reason to leave Bull and his mustache at home, but I wasn’t sure I could count on it. With any luck, Bull would think Cactus Bill’s was too tame.

  * * *

  “I believe I’ll come along too,” Bull said when I drove around to pick up Dusty, Troy, and Joe.

  Calvin had declined, and I didn’t mention it to Rufus for obvious reasons. I hadn’t wanted to ask Bull, but I had to be fair.

  “I think I’d like meeting some nice, sweet pussy for a change,” he added.

  Trust Bull to have a different slant on the idea. Joe gulped, nearly swallowing his tongue. Troy snickered, and Dusty rolled his eyes in the clearest I-told-you-so look I’d been on the receiving end of in quite some time. I counted to three, holding back a retort with an undoubtedly visible effort.

  “Well, I would!” he insisted. “I mean, I like hookers, but you have to pay them.”

  “You have to pay other women too,” Troy said wisely. “Only they don’t ask for it up front.” With a sidelong glance at me, he added, “You have to, um, work for it.”

  I suppose I deserved that, but as I recalled, he’d gotten my money’s worth too. I made a mental note to take him to task for that remark, even if I had to wait until later on to do it.

  As usual, Dusty couldn’t keep quiet when a “Bull-bashing” opportunity arose. “What’s the matter, Bull? Haven’t you got enough money to pay a hooker?”

  “I got plenty of cash,” Bull retorted, rising quickly to the bait. “I just don’t want to waste it paying top dollar for pussy when I can get the same thing for the price of a drink. I need new tires for my car.”

  Giggling helplessly, I motioned for him to get in. “Dammit, Bull. Will you please shut up and get in the truck?”

  “I don’t see what’s so goddamned funny,” he grumbled as he squeezed into the backseat with Troy and Joe. Dusty needed to sit up front to have room for his cast, which made things in the back a bit cramped. Joe was sitting behind him with his knees practically up under his chin. “It’s the truth. I li
ke getting laid as much as the next man, but hookers are expensive.”

  “Well then, I’m glad we asked you,” Dusty said. “Now you can go to the bar and dance with some cheap women and then ask them if they’ll fuck you for free.”

  “Goddammit, Dusty,” Bull shouted angrily. “I’ve told you before not to say that word in front of Miss Angela. You watch your mouth.”

  “Aw, do us all a favor and shut up, Bull,” Dusty said. “Angel’s heard the word ‘fuck’ before. In fact she’s been known to say it herself.” He shot me an evil grin. “Ain’t that right, Joe?”

  I could see Joe’s befuddled face quite clearly in the rearview mirror. “What’re you asking me for?”

  “I just thought you might remember something.” A saintly smile replaced Dusty’s wicked grin. “Something Angel might have said in—oh, I dunno—the heat of the moment, perhaps?”

  “Shut up, Dusty,” I growled, gunning the engine before starting down the driveway. “Don’t say another word.”

  “I’d like to know too,” Troy said. I glanced in the mirror just as he gave Joe a nudge. “Didn’t she ever say something like, ‘Oh, Joe! You’re so fucking awesome’?”

  Joe’s eyes widened in horror. “She’s never said anything like that to me in her life. What makes you think she would?”

  Dusty shrugged. “Oh, just something she told us once.” His dastardly grin returned. “Something about the way you look when you’re—”

  Dusty didn’t finish that sentence because I punched him in the ribs as hard as I could. “I thought I told you to shut up, Dusty. I mean it now. Be quiet.”

  “Beating up on the help, now, are you?” Troy teased. “You can get in all kinds of trouble for that. He could file a lawsuit against you.”

  “Oh yeah?” I stomped on the brake. “Listen, if this is what I get for taking you guys out for the evening, maybe I ought to turn around right now.” Troy didn’t have on his seat belt and, as a result, ended up facedown over the console between the front seats. “I thought I told you to wear a seat belt, birdbrain.” I could tell he wasn’t hurt. He was laughing much too hard for that.

  “Aw, come on, Angie,” he said. “We’re just teasing you.”

  I grabbed a handful of his curly black hair and pulled his head up. “I’ve got a good mind to throw you out on the highway. You can be an annoying little devil sometimes.”

  “Yeah, but I’m cute,” he reminded me, the evidence of that statement mere inches from my face.

  “Yes, you are,” I agreed. “Too cute for your own good. If you were homely, you might learn to be nicer.”

  “I’m nice,” he insisted. “Though I must not be as cute as Joe or you’d say I looked awesome when I was—”

  I still had a grip on the back of his head, so I shut him up by the most expedient method. I kissed him—hard—driving my tongue as far into his mouth as it would go. I waited until he began to respond with some degree of enthusiasm before pulling away, muttering, “Now, will you please shut the fuck up about Joe?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he replied. “Whatever you say.”

  “Okay then, boys,” I announced. “Sit down, be quiet, and everyone put their seat belts on, or we’re not going anywhere.”

  “Tough little angel, aren’t you?” Dusty commented, grinning as he rubbed his sore ribs.

  “I’ve lived on a ranch surrounded by men for most of my life,” I replied. “I’ve learned to adapt—although you guys are making me wish I’d brought Rufus along to keep you in line.”

  “Thank you so much for not bringing him,” Troy said. “He’s already pissed enough as it is. You should have seen the look on his face when he got a load of that truck stuck in the thicket. Believe me, this would only make it worse.”

  “Yes, but it’d sure be nice to get in trouble for something we were actually guilty of for a change,” Joe said. He must’ve forgotten about me kissing him in front of Rufus, although he hadn’t been the instigator. Then again, that kiss wasn’t what had Troy and Dusty on my case, and I knew it. I drove on, holding my breath, waiting for one of them to pounce.

  Dusty drew in a breath as though about to take the bait, but Bull cut him off. “I’m never in any trouble,” he declared. “Rufus has never hollered at me for anything.”

  I found that hard to believe. Granted, I’d never actually seen Bull get a lecture of any kind, so he might have been telling the truth, but I’d also never known him to give me the kind of looks Dusty gave me from time to time. The best I could tell, it was usually my fault when one of the men set Rufus off—that is, if what Joe had told me was true.

  I’d seen several cowboys come and go over the years. Joe seemed to think many had lost their jobs because of me, and I had no reason to suspect him of lying. Perhaps that was why Rufus seemed so bent on eliminating Dusty. Bull had never shown any interest in me, and I wouldn’t have encouraged him if he had. Left up to me, I’d have found some excuse to fire him a long time ago, simply because I didn’t like him. It would have been grossly unfair of me to do that, but no more unfair than Rufus firing cowboys for giving me the eye. If Rufus didn’t want the men flirting with me, he had a lot more to complain about with Dusty than he ever would with Bull. Therefore, if he wanted to stop their bickering, Bull, rather than Dusty, would have been his first choice as the one to keep.

  “Yes, Bull, I’m sure you’ve always been the perfect cowboy. Keep up the good work.” I wished my mirror had been aimed at him so I could have seen his reaction, but I needn’t have bothered. As always, Bull had something to say.

  “That’s right,” he said. “Rufus told me I’m the best goddamn hand on the ranch. He knows a good man when he sees one, even if some assholes around here don’t.”

  A scathing glance in Dusty’s direction had undoubtedly accompanied that statement because I caught a glimpse of Joe’s smile before he turned toward the window.

  Dusty was biting his lip, obviously doing his best to hold back his retort. I reached over and patted his arm. “I’ve always thought Dusty was the best, but perhaps I’m a bit prejudiced.”

  That, of course, set off a whole wave of protests from everyone else, so I kept on driving, letting them yammer on about it until we got to Cactus Bill’s.

  Chapter 22

  As honky-tonks go, Cactus Bill’s was much like any other, complete with a scuffed dance floor, a really loud band, a bar running the entire length of the building, smoke-filled air, and alcohol in bottles, glasses, and the occasional mason jar.

  At least they had glasses. Once, in another place, the waitress had answered my question about the lack of bottled Corona with, “Oh, we don’t allow glass in here, honey.” I didn’t bother to ask why. The reason was far too obvious.

  That was the one and only time Cody and I had ever patronized that particular bar, even though they had a nice dance floor. Cactus Bill’s had a much better reputation, with the result that the women outnumbered the men two to one. Needless to say, every cowgirl’s head swiveled in our direction when I strolled in with my string of cowboys.

  Then again, Dusty’s next words to Bull might’ve had something to do with that reaction.

  “There you go, Bull,” he said, clapping a hand on Bull’s shoulder. “A veritable feast of nice, sweet, cheap pussy.”

  What made it even funnier was that Bull didn’t see anything wrong with that pronouncement—no doubt because Dusty had omitted the f-word.

  It took me a while, but I finally found Jenny sitting at one of the larger tables with her sister Rachel and a willowy blond I’d never seen before. If she’d brought anyone else with her, they must have been on the dance floor at the time, so I deposited Dusty in a chair and took the seat next to him, intending to stay there for the entire evening. Troy, however, seemed to have other plans for me, because after the introduction, he ignored Jenny, Rachel, and her friend, whose name turned out to be Ca
roline, and seized me by the hand, spiriting me off to the dance floor.

  As I might have expected, he was a much better dancer than I was, and all I really wanted to do was to stand back and watch him. The vision of Troy out on the dance floor in boots, jeans, a fancy Western shirt, and a black Stetson was a sight no cowgirl worth her spurs would want to miss. I could barely keep up with him during the first dance, but the second dance was to a much slower and quieter song, and I took the opportunity to fuss at him for the “having to work for it” comment he’d made earlier.

  “Well, I did,” he protested. “I’ve had to rope and brand calves, fix fences, and all sorts of hard work.”

  “Yes, but I paid you for that,” I reminded him. “You might not have cashed your paycheck yet, but I did write you one. I remember doing it very distinctly. Technically, the sex was a bonus, so I’d keep quiet if I were you or I might dock your pay next time.”

  “Why, Angela,” he teased. “That sounds like sexual harassment.”

  “Maybe. But I didn’t exactly have to twist your arm to get you to participate. You’re the one who showed up in my room. I don’t recall having to beg or threaten you, much less go drag you out of the bunkhouse.”

  He grinned. “You’re right. If anything, it was a perk. One that I’m going to miss, I might add.”

  “You didn’t think it would last forever, did you?”

  “Well, no,” he admitted. “But I thought it might last at least a month.”

  “I guess you can blame Dusty for that.”

  “I certainly do,” he said. “And Joe.”

  “Why Joe?”

  A mischievous sparkle lit his eyes. “You did say he was the best.”

  I loved Dusty, true enough, but I sure was going to miss being on the receiving end of that particular look. Too bad I couldn’t keep them both. Generally speaking, men were much too territorial for that, although I’ve always considered sharing to be a good thing. Mind you, I’d never been faced with such a dilemma before. Cody had been my one and only for years, and with him close to hand I hadn’t done much boy watching—hadn’t even felt the need—until lately. The trouble was, I seemed to like most of what I saw—including Joe—who very well might have been the best for all I knew.