Big Bad Cowboy

by Carly Bloom

  Claire looked behind them. “Dating who?”

  “Each other.”

  It took about three seconds for it to sink in. Then Claire said to Gabriel, “Oh? You must be from Austin then. I knew JD was seeing someone in Austin. How nice. Are you enjoying Big Verde? Will you be staying long? Can I get you a piece of pie?”

  “Claire,” JD said. “You can stop babbling. It’s okay to act surprised.”

  Claire slumped with relief. “Whew! Oh my God, JD, you’re gay?”

  “Yep.”

  “I wouldn’t mind a piece of pie,” Gabriel said with his two-million-dollar smile. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

  Claire looked at him like he was nuts. “I don’t have any pie.”

  “That’s just something Southern girls say when they’re nervous,” JD whispered.

  “Who all knows?” Maggie asked. “Did you tell your parents?”

  “Yeah. Told the folks last night.”

  Maggie raised her eyebrows. “And?”

  JD removed his hat. “Well, beneath the initial shock, they seemed to think that a lot of my childhood finally made sense.”

  “Like your fifth-grade obsession with Shania Twain?”

  “Shut up. She’s a queen and you know it. Anyway, next I told Bubba.”

  “How’d that go?”

  “Once I convinced him he wasn’t my type, he didn’t much care.”

  Maggie led them to where the eight-foot tree stood on the lot. Even though it was the only one that size, JD and Gabriel went through the traditional decision-making angst—holding it this way and that, standing back and looking at it from various angles—before deciding they’d take it. Norbert helped them get it loaded onto JD’s truck, with Gabriel snapping pictures and posting them to Instagram the entire time.

  Maggie refused to let them pay for it.

  “Why don’t you and Travis come by for some eggnog after work tonight?” JD said.

  “Thanks, but we’re not really—”

  A pickup turned into the lot and parked next to them. It was Bubba. Trista rolled her pregnant self out, looking ready to pop. Bubba got out next, and then they all watched, mesmerized, as the kids clambered out one by one, like clowns from a clown car.

  “Merry Christmas, y’all,” Bubba said. When he spotted Gabriel, he adopted a formal tone for introductions. “Trista, this is Gabriel, JD’s gay boyfriend. I believe I might have mentioned him earlier.”

  “You mean when you shot through the door like a rocket on steroids this morning? Yes, I think you might have mentioned him.” Trista smiled at Gabriel. “So nice to meet a gay boyfriend of JD’s. The straight ones were all so boring.”

  * * *

  Travis leaned on the shovel and wiped sweat out of his eyes. It had taken every ounce of willpower he had just to get out of bed and drag himself to work today. He’d been up all night.

  Yesterday had started out perfectly. Wonderful Thanksgiving dinner at Happy Trails. His table surrounded by family and friends—neither of which he’d even had a few short weeks ago. And then he and Maggie had made love for the first time.

  No, not for the first time, and that was the problem.

  As soon as he’d realized what she wanted—what she needed—the wolf had come out to play. Maggie had complied so readily, and responded so thoroughly, that he thought he’d pulled it off. That she either hadn’t put two and two together, or she had and didn’t care.

  He’d been wrong. She’d done the math and she cared.

  The phone calls went straight to voice mail. The texts were ignored. And he felt fucking sick about it. He’d known she wouldn’t take it well. How could she? He’d known all along that they’d had sex in the shed—kinky sex, by some standards. And Maggie thought it had been anonymous. He’d let her think that out of cowardice, and then he’d continued the charade out of weakness.

  At first, he’d just wanted to avoid awkwardness at work. Later, he was downright fearful she’d blow a gasket, especially since he’d been unable to make himself stop with the sexting. And finally, after they’d grown close and shared their hopes and dreams, he’d been terrified of losing her.

  He’d lost her anyway.

  Would she stop by today? It was a busy time at Petal Pushers, so probably not. Either way, he had a lot of work to do. He stuck his sweat-drenched bandanna back into his pocket and drove the shovel into a pile of river rocks. Maggie wanted them spread throughout the walking paths of Anna’s garden.

  His phone rang. With a start, he yanked off his glove and grabbed it out of his pocket. It wasn’t Maggie. With his usual lousy timing, Scott was calling. Maybe it was just a hey, how was your Thanksgiving call, but Travis doubted it.

  “Hello.”

  “What is this thing I got about garnishing my wages?” Scott demanded.

  Gabriel hadn’t wasted any time.

  “Happy Thanksgiving to you, too.”

  “I got a job, which is exactly what I was supposed to do—”

  “Really? That’s great news. Where?”

  “Why does it matter? You’re going to take all my money!”

  “Actually, that money will go to help support your son. It’s expensive to raise a kid. I just registered him for soccer. It was sixty-five dollars plus another thirty for the uniform. Want to buy some raffle tickets?”

  Maybe Gabriel was right, and rattling Scott’s money chain would cause him to drop the threat of taking Henry.

  “If I get Henry, I won’t have to give anyone any money. Maybe I should just go ahead and pursue that route. Unless, of course, you want to sell the ranch.”

  “I don’t want to sell the ranch. And if you take Henry to punish me, you’ve got all the financial burden. Soccer starts next Thursday. Cleats are on sale at Walmart.”

  “Why can’t you just pay the taxes and sell the ranch? We’ll both be rich. And then you can pretend to be Henry’s daddy all you want.”

  “I want to make Happy Trails into something. And I don’t want to pretend to be Henry’s daddy. I want you to give up your rights. If you don’t, then the law says you must support your child.”

  Scott was quiet. Was it working?

  “Fuck you. He’s probably not my kid anyway.”

  Travis shook his head in disgust as he stared at the phone. That’s right, motherfucker. He’s mine.

  There was no time to sit on this, so Travis texted Gabriel to get the ball rolling. No more procrastinating or avoiding unpleasant situations.

  Feeling a little lighter, he put his phone back in his pocket and dug into the rocks with renewed vigor. It only took a few minutes for the endorphins to get pumping. He’d just slayed Goliath for Henry.

  Next, he was going to get his woman back.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Travis watched the gathering storm clouds through the living room window.

  It had been four days since Thanksgiving. No word from Maggie. He’d even texted her that he’d found her boot. He suspected she’d blocked him.

  He wasn’t the kind of guy to creepily stalk a woman, but Henry wouldn’t stop asking about her. What was he supposed to do about that?

  The Grinch was on TV. This was at least the fifth time Henry had watched the DVD today, all while giving Travis the stinky side-eye for his lack of merrymaking. The naked tree sat in the big front window. He’d bought it at Petal Pushers yesterday, hoping to see Maggie. She hadn’t been there, but Claire had. She’d sold him the tree and said, You’re in Big Bad Trouble with a capital T.

  Like he didn’t already know that.

  “When is Maggie coming to decorate the tree?” Henry asked. Again.

  It was Tuesday. Maggie was supposed to come after work, but somehow Travis doubted that was still the plan.

  “She’s at Petal Pushers,” Lupe said, setting out a tray of fresh-baked Christmas cookies. “They close at six, so you’ve got another hour or so.”

  Travis gulped. “It’s a busy day for Petal Pushers because of the holidays. So, don�
�t be disappointed if she’s too tired to come, okay?”

  “That’s silly, Uncle Travis. Maggie made a promise.”

  Travis pulled out his phone, looked at it, and tossed it on the couch. But then he had an idea. Maybe she hadn’t thought to block the Big Bad Wolf.

  He went upstairs and pulled the wolf’s phone out of his nightstand drawer.

  Once upon a time, there was a Big Dumb Wolf.

  He sat on the bed and waited. It didn’t take long.

  And once upon a time there was a fair maiden who made the mistake of following him into the woods.

  Travis wanted to remind her that she’d had a banging good time in the woods, but he didn’t want to ruin it. He decided to go with what was in his heart.

  I miss my moon. The world is dark without her.

  Minutes ticked by. He should have known Maggie wouldn’t react to romantic bullshit. He was going to have to fight dirty.

  Henry wants to know if you’re coming tonight.

  I’ll be there at 7.

  When she didn’t add anything more, he stood up. It was time to face the music. All of it. He’d been a conflict avoider his entire life. When you lived with a volatile, gambling alcoholic, you lay low, ducked into available open doorways, and waited for storms to pass.

  But some storms didn’t pass until you weathered them. He was a little old to learn this lesson, but dammit, he’d recently come to realize there were three things that mattered to him—Happy Trails, Henry, and Maggie—and he wasn’t going to lose any of them.

  “You boys had better get ready for your company,” Lupe said when Travis came down the stairs.

  He ran his fingers through his mass of hair and rubbed his beard. Lupe was right. He needed to get ready. He went into the bathroom and pulled out a razor and shears. No more hiding.

  Twenty minutes later, he emerged to hysterical laughter from Henry. “You look like a plucked chicken!”

  Beard: gone. Mass of hair: clipped short.

  Lupe walked up and rubbed his cheek. “Very handsome,” she said with a wink. “And you, too, Henry.”

  Henry had put on what he called his fancy clothes: clean jeans with no holes and a long-sleeved blue shirt. He’d even stuffed his feet into the shoes he’d worn to Lisa’s funeral. It didn’t look like they fit anymore. That gave Travis a lump in his throat the size of Texas and, for some dumb reason, reminded him of the gravity of the situation. There were two possible outcomes: a new beginning, or an ending.

  “You know you don’t have to get dressed up for Maggie, right? She thinks you’re awesome no matter what you wear.”

  Henry patted his hair and frowned. “I can’t get the puffy part to stay down.”

  “I think Maggie likes the puffy part.”

  “You don’t have to get dressed up either, Uncle Travis. Maggie likes you just the way you are. And that means she loves you.”

  Travis sighed. Maggie probably thought she didn’t know him at all anymore. But she was wrong. She knew him better than anyone ever had.

  “I warmed up some chili,” Lupe said. “Your bowl is on the bar. You should eat before Maggie gets here.”

  Travis sat down and pulled the bowl over. He hadn’t been able to eat much in the past few days, but now he thought maybe he had an appetite.

  Lupe set a manila envelope next to him. “I found this on the gate a couple of days ago. I forgot to bring it in. You might want to open it.”

  Travis’s heart pounded. Had Maggie resorted to leaving him notes on the gate again? And he hadn’t even read it? He tried not to be irritated with Lupe—it wasn’t her fault he was in this mess. Maggie had never put one of her gate notes in an envelope before. It must be personal. He tried to compose himself as he pulled it out.

  AUCTION.

  Shit! This wasn’t from Maggie. It was from the tax office. He scanned the rest of the letter quickly, searching for a date.

  NOVEMBER 29 COURTHOUSE ANNEX LAWN

  That was today!

  “Travis, what’s wrong?” Lupe asked. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost!”

  Travis grabbed his keys and his checkbook. Maybe there was still time. Maybe nobody had bid on Happy Trails, and he could still do something.

  “I’ve got to go.”

  “But where? Where are you going? Maggie will be here any minute.”

  It was raining, but he didn’t have time to look for an umbrella. He had to get to the courthouse. “Tell Maggie I’ll be back as soon as I can. Tell her it’s important.”

  Fifteen minutes later, he pulled up to the courthouse annex. There was absolutely nobody on the lawn, and the place looked closed. He made a run for the courthouse door. It was locked, but he yanked on it anyway. He peered through the glass and saw a woman walking down the hall. He banged on the door.

  “The offices are closed,” she shouted. “You’ll have to come back tomorrow.”

  “Was there an auction here today? For Happy Trails?”

  The woman rolled her eyes and removed a set of keys from her pocket. She opened the door a crack. “Only one person showed up in this weather, but yes, there was an auction.”

  “Who showed up? Who was it?”

  “Gerome Kowalski. He had the winning bid.”

  Travis took a step back. It was a punch to the gut. To the heart. Gerome’s kindness had been an act. Travis had been an idiot to think a man like that would want to help a guy like him. Gerome had pretended to be, of all things, fatherly. And Travis had soaked it up. No wonder he hadn’t wanted money for replacing the fences. He knew they’d be his. He probably had an ingenious plan to incorporate Happy Trails and keep it as a direct line to consumers, hence the farmer’s market stall.

  “Bye, now,” the lady said, closing the door.

  The lock clicked. “Wait, how does this work?”

  She’d already walked away.

  Travis trudged back to his truck, not feeling the rain or the cold or anything at all. Gerome Kowalski had just added two hundred acres to Rancho Canada Verde…for chump change.

  Chump change that Travis couldn’t come up with.

  How would he face Henry? He’d fucked it all up.

  He started the truck and headed for Tony’s. The last barstool on the left already had his name on it.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  The Christmas music was going to be the death of Maggie. “Can we change the station, please?” she begged.

  Claire, wearing what Maggie assumed to be a Mrs. Claus outfit if Mrs. Claus was a porn star, stuffed a wreath in a bag. “Yes, we can change it.”

  “Oh, thank God.” Maggie sighed.

  “On January first.”

  “But Claire—”

  “Maggie, we’re selling trees. We’re selling wreaths. We’re selling lights and inflatable elves. And we’re going to listen to Christmas music, okay?” She smiled at Mrs. Parker as she handed her the bag. “Thank you and Merry Christmas!”

  A large hand slapped a box of red and green ornaments on the counter. Maggie looked up to see Bubba peering over four more boxes. “Hey, Bubba. Why all the ornaments?”

  “We got a cat,” he said. “A cat that climbs Christmas trees. I told Trista that cats are useless animals.”

  Pop barked from beneath the counter.

  “You don’t need these then,” Maggie said. She looked around for Kristen, the high school senior providing holiday help on weekends. She didn’t see the perky blond ponytail anywhere. Which meant Kristen was probably hiding somewhere with her nose glued to her phone. “Come on. We have some that aren’t breakable.”

  “I got the counter,” Claire said.

  Bubba followed Maggie to the ornaments. “I had to drive Travis home from Tony’s last night. He was wasted.”

  Maggie stopped in her tracks. That asshole had stood her up to go to Tony’s and get drunk? It wasn’t quite the groveling she’d expected. And to think she’d been ready to forgive him.

  I miss my moon. My world is dark without her.

&n
bsp; Ha! She’d fallen for that. She really had. But then he hadn’t even been at the house last night. She and Lupe had decorated the tree with Henry, looking at the door the whole time because they were freaking idiots. Honey’s voice had played in her head on repeat. That boy done run oft, Maggie.

  Maggie grabbed three boxes of unbreakable ornaments off the shelf and shoved them at Bubba. “You’re a married man with kids and a pregnant wife. What were you doing at Tony’s?” She really felt like railing on a man, and Bubba was the nearest one.

  “Hey, settle down. Trista made eggnog, and I wanted mine with a kick. The liquor store was closed, so Tony slipped a little in a baby bottle for me.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Don’t tell anyone. I think it’s illegal.”

  Maggie rolled her eyes. “I’ll try to keep a lid on it.”

  “What happened with you and Travis? That boy was a mess last night.”

  Claire came around the corner. “That’s just what I was coming back here to ask. Did y’all make up over the Big Bad Wolf thing? Did you pull a pre-surgery Meg Ryan?”

  “The Big Bad Wolf? Meg Ryan? What the hell are y’all talking about?” Bubba asked.

  “Did I hear something about the Big Bad Wolf?” JD stood at the end of the aisle, smoke coming out of both ears. Nobody had even seen him come in.

  “Seriously, JD? Don’t you have somewhere else to be? Don’t all of you have somewhere else to be?”

  Claire crossed her arms over her chest. “I work here.”

  “And I need more tree lights,” JD said.

  They all looked at Bubba. “I honestly can’t remember why I’m here.”

  Maggie stomped her foot. “Listen, I know you’re all curious, and you want to know what happened between me and Travis, but it’s my business and for once the entire town of Big Verde doesn’t need to know it.”

  “Know what?” Alice popped up at the opposite end of the aisle, arms full of tinsel.

  “That Travis is the Big Bad Wolf who’s been sexting Maggie,” Claire said.

  “Oh, my,” Alice said with a grin. “Maggie, aren’t you the lucky girl!”

  “Wait a minute,” JD said. “Are you saying that wolf who had his hands all over you at the gala was Travis? Why, I ought to—”