Picking Roses

by BA Tortuga

  “No, sir,” the feller said.

  The bull riding section ended and the riders all started milling about as the horses were loaded into the chutes. Les nodded to—shit, was it Pete? Then he headed through the crowd along the fence toward the chutes.

  One of the bullfighters was up on the rails, climbing over and heading right toward him, moving like one of the critters in a Japanese horror movie, limping, but so fast Les took a step back. He reckoned he just needed to get out of the way in case the man needed to pee.

  “Howdy, cowboy.” The voice was familiar and he strained his brain hunting for a name. He’d seen this one the other night with Rosie. Cooper. That was it.

  “Mr. Coop. How do?”

  “Good. Good. Aching some, but that’s not news.” Cooper smiled for him but it was rueful as hell.

  “Nope.” Hadn’t he just said that to Montana Pete? Some things never changed in their world. “Did you need something?”

  “Just wanted to say hi and say to be gentle with our Rose, huh? She’s not a buckle bunny like some. She don’t have a prickle in her and she’ll always have us to back her up.”

  Les’ cheeks heated in ways the July sun had nothing to do with. “Oh, now. I like the lady a lot, and I swear, I’m not one for playing.”

  “Good deal. I’d hate to have to kill you. You seem like a decent enough feller.” The words weren’t offered over in a joking manner at all. No, sir, Coop was serious as a heart attack.

  Good thing Les knew how to cowboy up. He was glad Rosie had such staunch defenders, he really was. “Says a lot about the lady that you’re so good to her,” Les said.

  “She’s one of us. Tim was a bit of a dipshit, but golden to the core and God save her, she ain’t got people, so…” Coop shrugged. “We’re her people now and we aim to help her any way we can.”

  “I like that.” Impulsively he stuck his hand out to shake.

  Coop took it, fingers callused and damn near raw. Someone had been having a rough show.

  All Les could do was wince, knowing Coop wouldn’t appreciate the suggestion of going to sports medicine.

  “You’d best get ready to ride, cowboy. I’m taking a break.” Coop tipped his hat.

  “Have a good night, Mr. Coop.” Less nodded and brushed on by needing his head in the game.

  “Good ride, cowboy.”

  He sure hoped so. He needed to earn a little more cash before he had to leave town.

  Tonight he had a date with the most beautiful girl in the world.

  * * * *

  She did her eyes—liner and mascara, sparkly shadow and brows. Then she did the rest of her face before she put on her new blouse—white with the prettiest scattering of clear beads over the front. She added a sparkly silver sequined belt to her new Cruel Girl jeans and put on her good boots.

  There. She was ready.

  God, was this a date?

  It was crazy to call it a date even if it was. She was going home soon, and she would probably never see Les again after this one trip. But he sure was cute and sweet and kind, and he was taking her dancing after, so it had to qualify as a real date, right? Not just “let’s meet at the rodeo”.

  Whatever. She wasn’t going to end up sleeping with him and Timmy wouldn’t mind if they danced. He used to let her dance with Andy Baxter before they got married, didn’t he? After they got hitched, well, Andy hadn’t been allowed. She grinned a little, remembering Andy sporting that black eye.

  Silly boys.

  Rose headed down to the lobby, nodding at the receptionist lady and grinning at the goofy “Welcome Rodeo Fans” decorations everywhere.

  Les wasn’t in the lobby when she got down there, so she went to peek outside. He liked the air and all.

  She saw him across the parking lot, slowly getting out of his truck, still in his rodeo clothes, and those were covered in grossness. She winced, something in her shivering a little bit, then went to help. “Hey, cowboy. Looks like a hard day.”

  “Hey, Rosie.” Les had the grace to look a little shame-faced. “I’m sorry I’m late. Can you give me five to get clean?”

  “Sure, you’ve got a ton of time. The concert doesn’t start for an hour.” She bit back the questions—what happened? How bad was it? How bad are you hurt? No cowboy wanted a nag.

  “Thanks, honey. That big bitch of a mare I pulled in the bareback about did me in. Pardon my French.” He let her help him to the elevator. “Back in a jiffy.”

  “No hurry.” She brushed her hands off on his jeans and went to sit, telling herself very firmly that she wasn’t going to cry and she wasn’t going to worry, because she wasn’t dating Les because she didn’t date cowboys. They were having laughs together, even if she wanted him to kiss her and move the earth.

  He came back down five minutes later, dressed in his new jeans and a white shirt. The goo was gone, but that made the bruises lurid by comparison.

  Rose stood, went right to him. “Are you sure you’re okay? We don’t have to go.”

  “No, no. I’m fine, honey. ’Sides, we’re gonna be sitting. I got the tickets so we don’t have to be in standing room, huh?” He smiled, bent to kiss her cheek, stiff as a scarecrow.

  “You did.” She knew that smell—the liniment. Timmy used to say the whole locker room area smelled like that. “The shuttle should be here soon and you can sit and rest.”

  “Let’s go grab a bench.”

  “Sounds good.” She led the way, held the door for him. “Did you need a Coke or something?”

  “Oh, that’s a good idea.” He grinned a little, and at least he still had all his teeth. She was picky that way.

  “Okay. Sit here. I’ll be right back.” She headed to the Coke machine, dug out a couple of dollars, and got him a drink. Her fingers were shaking a little bit, but she ignored them. He was a friend. No stress.

  He gave her a warm smile when she came back, reaching for the can with bruised knuckles. “I’m sorry, honey. I sure didn’t expect to get busted up.”

  Rose chuckled, the sound just a little dry. How many thousand times had she heard that? “Nobody ever does but the bullfighters.”

  “Yeah. I guess that’s true.” He leaned on her gently when she sat down.

  “Is there anything I can do to help?” She hated that he hurt.

  “Hmm. You could kiss this one and make it better.” Les pointed to his chin.

  “Oh, you flirt.” Still, she leaned up and kissed his chin, gentle as she could. “Better?”

  Oh, man. Lipstick stain. “Whoops.”

  “Much better. What?” He rubbed his chin. “Oh.”

  “Sorry.” She felt her cheeks flame.

  “Why? You’re a pretty lady. It’s natural for a girl to gussy up.” He kissed the corner of her mouth just as the bus pulled into the parking lot.

  She stood and reached for him. “God, I hope there’s a seat for you. There should be. We’re the first stop.”

  “I’m all right, honey.” He got up slow, but he made the steps of the bus okay. “I’m not lettin’ this ruin our night.”

  “Stubborn cowboy.” She grabbed his Coke and two dollars from her purse, thankful that the seats were open.

  “I am.” The little driver took her dollars, and they got seats. She made him slide in so he’d be trapped. No one was going to ask her to stand.

  She handed him his Coke, frowning at the way he held himself. “Did they give you something at Sports Medicine?”

  “They wrapped me up. Don’t you worry on it.” He shifted the Coke to his opposite hand and grabbed her fingers with the close one.

  “Are you looking forward to the concert?” she asked.

  “I am. I like George. You?” He played with her fingers, his calluses rough against her.

  “Lord, yes. I love to hear him sing. He’s so smooth.”

  “Do you like beer at a concert, honey? Or should we just share another popcorn?”

  “If they gave you pain pills, you don’t need a beer, Les. You forge
t, I was married to one of y’all. Your kidneys will thank me. We’ll have popcorn.”

  “Okay.” His cheeks went red along with his ears, but he laughed, lifting her hand to kiss the back. “You’re a smart lady.”

  “I am.” Her fingers brushed his lips. “I’m so sorry you’re hurting.”

  “So am I. I wanted to be a hundred percent tonight.” The bus finally lurched into motion, making Les wince.

  She hummed, worrying. “It’s okay. We’ll have fun. Listening to King George is going to be magic.”

  It was probably a good thing that they weren’t going to dance because he was hurt. She might fall in love if it was good.

  “It will.” Laughing, he squeezed her hand. “You’re something else, lady.”

  “Just a girl.” She grinned over at him, held on, and reminded herself, very firmly.

  She didn’t date cowboys.

  Chapter Nine

  Les thought his butt might just fall off.

  The George concert had been a fine thing. Watching the way Rosie lit up when that old Texan sang was half the fun. The other half was humming along. The honky tonk, part? Well, it wasn’t so great. He’d been willing to try dancing with Rose. His groin pull wasn’t. So they was sittin’ and having Cokes and curly fries before heading back to the hotel.

  Rose didn’t complain a bit, though. Hell, she was the one who’d played fetch and carry on their second round of Cokes.

  She was a champion among women. Pretty, smart enough to keep him on his toes, and with a built-in knowledge of cowboys. Too bad she was leaving. Like tomorrow.

  “You ought to stay on a few more days,” he told her, as if wishing would make it so.

  “I wish I could, but I have to get back. I have to be at work Monday morning.” She stuck out her tongue and rolled her long ponytail around and around, fastening it into a bun. He wanted to know what it looked like, down and loose.

  “Shame. I could run you over to Steamboat, let you see a moose or two.”

  “Tempter.” Rose shook her head. “I don’t have any paid time, though, and payday is coming quick.”

  “Well, the offer stands.” Just because he was having trouble standing didn’t mean he couldn’t offer.

  “Thanks, cowboy.” She patted his hand, gentle as could be.

  “Good Lord, Les! I sure didn’t expect to see you here tonight!” Rowdy and Rusty came wandering up, both with beers in their hands. The twin team ropers looked like carbon copies of each other, all dark skin and wide, crookedy smiles.

  “Hey, boys. I was taking the lady to the concert.” He made a show of politely rising half out of chair before sinking back down. “Miss Rose, this is Rowdy, and that’s Rusty.”

  “Pleased.” Two Stetson brims went down, then up.

  Rose smiled at them. “Would y’all like to sit?”

  “Surely.” Rusty plopped down, grinned at him. “Shit, man. We thought you were a goner today when that bronc dragged you.”

  Rowdy nodded. “You know it. Scared us some, laying still on the dirt like that. I thought the worst for a second.”

  “I’m fine.” Les said it between gritted teeth. Damn it, Rose didn’t need to hear all that about him getting his chickens scattered.

  “Well, good. We’d hate to lose you, man. Hear that you’re out for at least a couple weeks.”

  Rose’s eyes were huge, her sweet face milk-pale, and her hand slid away from his, easy as can be. “I need to hit the ladies’ room. If y’all will pardon me?”

  “Sure, honey.” Les waited until she was out of earshot before turning on the boys. “She’s a widow, you know. Lost her husband right in the arena. Timmy Cutrer. You boys are making my night difficult.”

  “Oh, man.”

  “No shit?”

  “Sorry, Les.”

  “We didn’t know.”

  “Yeah.” He stared them down, Rowdy first, then Rusty. “Scoot.”

  “Uh-huh.” They stood up together and practically ran away from the table.

  It took two songs before Rose came back, her eye makeup wiped away mostly, her eyes bright. “Where’d your friends go, cowboy?”

  “They had to take off. Are you all right, honey?” He took her hand when she sat down, wanting to reassure her.

  “I am, yeah. You seem like you’re wearing down, though. I could get us a cab so you don’t have to wait for the shuttle again.”

  “Oh, honey, that’s okay. The cabs will all be so busy. We can go get the bus.” Shit, he didn’t want her paying for a cab. Unless she was wanting to get rid of him.

  “You’re sure?”

  “I am. It would take hours.” Cheyenne was a small town. He squeezed her hand, not ready to let go yet. “You want anything else to eat?”

  “You know what I want?”

  He shook his head, willing to get her damn near anything just so she wouldn’t cry no more.

  “Ice cream. It’s really loud in here, Les. Can we go have an ice cream?”

  She looked about two seconds away from tears.

  “You bet, lady.” He levered up, making his face very still, and held out a hand to help her out. “Come on. They got some in the marketplace, and it will be quiet by now.”

  “Yeah? Excellent.” She didn’t put any weight on his arm, but she held his hand.

  The ice cream place was still open, barely, and they got vanilla for him, mint chocolate for her. It felt real good on his mouth.

  There were benches in the square, and they sat, eating, staring out at all the traffic, the partiers, the lights. The wind was blowing, nice and chilly. Cheyenne did cool off as soon as the sun went down.

  “So did you have a good time on your vacation, Rosie?” He sure had.

  “I did, Les. It was wonderful. I didn’t expect it to be at all.” She sighed, licked her spoon. “I’m glad you offered me a seat on the bus.”

  “I am, too.” More than he could even say. She was gonna slip away from him, though, and it hurt his gut. He wanted to do something crazy, but that just wasn’t his style.

  “If you ever come to north Texas, I’ll take you for barbecue.”

  “I’ll take you up on that, honey. You ever come to Steamboat, I’ll take you to this little Italian place.” All of the ranch wives loved it, and he knew she liked Italian food.

  “You have my word.” She glanced at him, her eyes dark as holes burned in a sheet. “I think I’m going to miss you, Mr. Les.”

  “I know I’m going to miss you, Rosie.” He knew it might be his only chance, because once they got back to the hotel, she’d be thinking on packing and putting this all behind her. Les slid an arm around her waist and pulled her up against him, bending to kiss her mouth. Just so he’d know what she felt like.

  She opened for him, leg pressing against his hurt one and he jerked, wincing a little. Rose pulled away, hands fluttering. “Oh. Oh, God. I’m sorry.”

  “Shh. No. No sorries.” He pressed a finger to her lips. “It’s been an honor making a friend out of you, Rosie.”

  She nodded. “You know it, cowboy. You’re the best.” She sniffled a little, stood. “Come on, Les. Let me get you to the hotel. I know you’re sore.”

  “And you have to get moving, huh?” His hands clenched, but he figured it didn’t do no good to get all riled up. He’d head back to Steamboat and she’d go to Texas, and that was that.

  “I need to before I forget that I’m not going to fall in love with another rodeo cowboy, huh?” She smiled at him, and the look was bittersweet as hell. “Still, I wouldn’t trade the last three days for anything. Well, maybe I wouldn’t have you hurt.”

  “I hear that.” Les tucked her arm into the crook of his elbow. “I’d take it again for you, though.” They headed off for the bus, chatting about this and that, laughing about the concert and how George had forgot the words.

  He knew when they got to the hotel they’d just walk away.

  They’d already said goodbye.

  Chapter Ten

  “So
? You made it, huh? Home now?”

  Rose nodded, picking up the toys that Presley had strewn around the house during her day at work. “I did. It was a nice memorial, June. You’d have liked it.”

  She could hear Timmy’s momma chuckle, the sound dry and husky. “I doubt it.”

  “Well, okay, but it was nice. Beau said nice things.” And she’d met a cowboy who she couldn’t stop thinking about. Les was always in her mind.

  “That’s good. Mr. Lafitte was always dear.” June sighed. “Are you doing okay? Did you manage to have any fun at all, baby girl?”

  “I did.” The best time in years. She hurt when she thought about it, though.

  “Did you meet anyone?”

  “June!” Jesus! She checked herself out in the mirror. Did she look…like an unfaithful widow or something?

  “What? Robbie, Timmy’s been gone for three years. It’s time to start getting out there again.” June was so practical.

  “But… You’re his momma, June.”

  “Yep, and I’ll miss him every day until I go to meet him, but he’s gone, baby girl.”

  Like she didn’t know that. She knew that. She just… “I don’t think…” What? What could she say that wasn’t awful?

  “Robbie. I love you like you were my own, but you’re young. You deserve babies and happiness and to get out of that shitty little apartment.”

  “It’s not that bad.”

  June snorted. “Right. So? Who is he?”

  “Who?” Oh, God.

  “The cowboy. There was one. I know it. ’Fess up.”

  June knew her too well now for her to get out of this unscathed. She might as well own up to it.

  “His name’s Les.”

  * * * *

  Les was taking his sister to lunch in downtown Steamboat.

  Lord. That was always a joy and a curse. Hester Anne never wanted to go to the café. She wanted to go to that Italian place on the main drag, the one that made you wait forever for a table, then made you wait some more.