Cowboy Courage

by Carolyn Brown

  “Well, I guess this is it.” Hud took her hand in his. “If I’d realized there was a bar back there, I might have had a beer to loosen me up a little before we started this.”

  “I’d have had a double shot of Jack.” She smiled up at him.

  “Y’all new at this,” one of the older gentlemen asked, “or are you old veterans?”

  “I’m technically not a veteran yet,” Rose answered. “I’m trying to decide whether to reenlist after my leave is up. And it’s been years since I’ve square-danced, so you’ll have to bear with me,” Rose said.

  “It’s all right, honey.” The man’s wrinkles deepened when he smiled. “These other two couples here with me and Mama ain’t never done the dancin’ before either, so it’ll be a learnin’ experience for all y’all. And thank you for your service, darlin’.”

  “You are so welcome,” Rose said just as the fiddle music started.

  The caller said to circle to the left and then to the right, and then to swing your partner high and low. Hud got all involved with that part, swinging her out and back again and then dipping her before he went back to the circle. Square dancing was a little like riding a bicycle—after a couple of rounds, it was all coming back to her. At the end of the set, the caller said to promenade her off the floor.

  Hud wrapped his arm around her shoulder and danced her right over to the bar. They passed Luna on the way, and she grabbed the old guy’s hand that she’d danced with before.

  “I love the auctioneer dance, and Teddy here tells me he’s the best at it. I’m about to show him up,” she told Rose.

  “What’re you havin’?” the bartender asked.

  “Coors in a bottle,” Hud answered and then looked over at Rose.

  “The same,” she said, still a little breathless from those swing your partner wide parts of the dance, and just from being that near to Hud through the whole dance. Strange thing was that when they changed partners and another cowboy not much older than Hud had held her hand, there had been no electricity between them. When Hud had grabbed her hand again, she’d felt the vibes all the way to her toes.

  “I thought you wanted a double shot of Jack,” Hud said.

  “That was to get me loosened up to dance,” she told him. “Beer is because I’m thirsty, and I don’t mix the two, especially after last weekend.”

  “So did you like square dancing?” he asked.

  “Not as much as I do two-stepping,” she told him. “I really love an old country waltz or swing dancing, but I’m sure I’m pretty rusty at both.”

  “I have no doubt that as quick as you picked up the steps to square dancin’, that you’ll do fine with two-stepping or waltzing.” His gaze locked with hers and she felt as if he could see to the bottom of her soul. “I could get lost in your green eyes, Rose. When I’m with you and can just stare into your eyes all I want, it’s like swimming in a river of peace.”

  “You’ve got quite a way with words, cowboy,” Rose said. “Wouldn’t peace be nice, though?” She brought her bottle to her lips for another sip. “I see that you’re settling into your ranch, and I want the peace and contentment that you have.”

  “Then stick around this area,” he suggested.

  “There’s not much call for my skill set in Bowie, Texas,” she said.

  “Do you have to get a job right away? Can you take a few weeks to look around? I’m sure you could live with your Aunt Molly for a while,” he suggested.

  “Not for very long,” she said. “I love her and love visiting with her, but living with her for more than a week wouldn’t be a good idea. She’s too bossy. If I want someone like that, I can just go back to the commune and let my dad run my life.”

  “He did that?” Hud asked.

  She nodded. “Daddy is the overseer of the whole commune. His word is law, and in his world, women obey their husbands,” she said. “I’m not much at that submit stuff, so he and I clashed horns.”

  “Shut your eyes, Rose,” he said.

  “I told you, I don’t obey too well,” she told him.

  “It’s just a little test,” he told her. “I’m not ordering you to do it, but I’m trying to help you make a decision.”

  She closed her eyes. “Okay, now what?”

  “Imagine yourself on a beach with the sound of the waves,” he said. “But don’t open your eyes yet. Now think about being in the mountains with the cool, crisp mornings. Next think about the commune and your family there. Then last think about Bowie, Texas, and the rolling hills and kissing me.”

  Her eyes popped wide open.

  “Which one did you like best?” He leaned over to the side and kissed her ever so sweetly.

  “Your kisses—those were the very best. If you’re talking about places, I loved them all when I was there, but part of me is afraid I’ll get bored in one place,” she admitted.

  He continued to stare into her eyes, but he didn’t say a word.

  Dammit! She wanted him to tell her that he’d be ecstatic if she stayed in Bowie, and to say that would give them longer to get to really know each other. Sometimes trying to read him was like staring at a big stone.

  * * *

  Hud thought his poor old heart would jump right out of his chest when she said she might stay in Bowie for a while.

  “Rose O’Malley calling Hudson Baker,” she said over the noise.

  “I’m sorry,” he apologized. “My mind was floating out there in space somewhere.”

  “I noticed.” Her tone was slightly cool. “Am I boring you?”

  “No, darlin’, you definitely are not. Do you want to dance or have another beer?” he asked.

  “Another beer,” she told him. “I motioned for the bartender and already paid for this round.”

  “Shhh…” He put his finger on her lips. “The Texas wind will carry your words right to my mama and granny’s ears, and they’ll pick a switch off the scrub oak in the front yard and whip my butt if they find out.”

  “This is the modern world where women ask men out on dates, and they pay for the drinks or even the food,” she told him.

  “But us rough old cowboys still live by the code,” he said.

  “What code?” she asked as the bartender set two more beers on the bar.

  He held up one finger. “Live each day with courage.”

  Then another finger shot up. “Take pride in your work.”

  One more finger came up with each sentence. “When you make a promise keep it. Ride for the brand. Do what has to be done. Finish what you start. Be tough, but fair. Talk less, say more. Remember that some things ain’t for sale. Know where to draw the line. Respect women.” He stopped for a breath. “And that means being a gentleman and paying for drinks. And always, always love your wife, because that teaches the children that she’s the important thing in your life.”

  “Is that really the code?” she asked.

  He nodded seriously. “Only my grandpa added those last two things about respecting women and loving your wife. He said that they were the most important items in the code for a cowboy, so that’s why I ran out of fingers.”

  “Sounds to me like the code should be a way of life for everyone, not just cowboys,” she told him.

  “Sure make this old earth an easier place to live in if they did, wouldn’t it? Was there a soldier’s code that you went by in the army?” he asked.

  “I guess so.” She shrugged.

  “How did it go?” he asked.

  “It said that I’m a member of a team, and that I serve the people of the United States. That I live the army values, will always place the mission first, and never accept defeat. I will never leave a fallen comrade behind, and that I’ll guard the freedom and the American way of life. I’m not sure I got all that in the right order,” she said.

  “It’s different words, but it pretty much says the same thing, doesn’t it?” He took a long drink from the bottle. “Did you always put the mission first?”

  “I did, but I’m st
ruggling with that right now. I need to know what my mission in life is before I can put it first, and that takes making a decision,” she replied. “At first it wasn’t so hard for me. No kids, no ties, just my folks and Aunt Molly, and every blue moon I’d see Aunt Luna, but spending two tours in the Middle East taught me that I love green grass and am not fond of sand in everything,” she told him.

  “Ever get PTSD?” he asked.

  “Nope, but I did have trouble sleeping when I first got there. There was always noise, and tent living quarters didn’t make for great sleeping quarters. Then when I got home, it was so quiet that I finally bought one of those little wind machines to put beside my bed,” she answered.

  He could have sat there until dawn just talking to her and listening to her soft southern voice, but when ten o’clock rolled around the square dance caller told everyone that this was the last set.

  “Shall we dance this one, or just watch Aunt Luna?” he asked.

  “Let’s give up our barstools and go sit in our original chairs. That way when it’s over, we’ll be ready to take her home,” Rose answered.

  By the time they had walked around the perimeter of the room, the caller was telling the dancers to escort the ladies off the floor. Luna came right over to them and said, “This was so much fun. I just wish Wilbur was here with me, but truth be told, Teddy was better at the dance than Wilbur. I’m going to get me a shot of Jameson to help me sleep like a baby.”

  She declared that she didn’t even want ice cream when they reached the truck, so Hud drove straight to the B&B. Luna slung the back door open, and said, “All right, kids, y’all can sit out here and make out, but at midnight Cinderella turns from a princess into a scrub girl again. She ain’t lost a shoe, so you don’t have a reason to show up tomorrow, Hud, so you’d best make the most of the rest of the night.” She giggled as she started toward the house. When she got halfway there, she turned and came back. “Give me the key. I’ll leave the door open for you.”

  Rose fumbled in her purse, brought out a hot-pink fluffy key chain, and handed it off to her aunt.

  When Luna was in the house, Hud leaned across the console, cupped Rose’s cheeks in his hands, and kissed her. He teased her mouth open with his tongue and had just begun to get into the kiss when she pulled away.

  “Charley horse in my ribs from this damned console,” she said. “Walk me to the porch and let’s sit on the swing.”

  “In the cold?” he asked.

  “You’re warming me up pretty damn good, cowboy.” She grinned.

  He hurried out of the truck, but she already had the door open and was sliding out of the seat when he got to her side. He tucked her hand into his and led her to the porch. He sat down first and pulled her down onto his lap. The chains creaked with each movement, but he didn’t care, not as long as his lips were on hers. He slipped his hands under her coat and pulled her body close to his. The only noise was the whisper of the wind as it blew through the bare pecan tree limbs and the beating of their hearts as they tried to sync up with one another. Her arms went around his neck, and she took off his hat, laid it to the side, and then tangled her fingers in his hair. He moved one of his hands from her back to hold her head steady for the next kiss.

  Finally, she pulled away. “Darlin’, one more kiss, and we’re either going to see if this swing will support a wild bout of sex or we’re going to set this whole house on fire.”

  “I’ll repair the swing if we break it,” he offered.

  She traced his jawline with her finger. “I hate to even say it, but we’d better call it a night. I can’t tell you when I’ve had more fun. Sitting on the barstool and talking to you was so…” She seemed to be reaching for the right word.

  “Comfortable and yet romantic.” His lips zeroed in on hers, and they were making out again.

  She kissed him back until they had to stop for breath, and she stood up, held out her hand, and said, “Walk me to the door, and kiss me once more.”

  “That sounds like an old Ray Price tune that my grandpa used to sing,” he said.

  “I thought Conway Twitty laid claim to that one.” She pulled at his hand.

  “He covered it a few years after Ray did it. It was a faster tune. Let’s do Ray’s version, since it’s slower.” He got to his feet and wrapped both arms around Rose’s waist. “One kiss, one step.”

  Ten kisses later they were at the door. “I need a couple more to get me home. I may not see you again until Saturday night.”

  “Maybe three to hold me until then,” she breathed into his ear.

  Half a dozen kisses later, she handed him his hat and finally went inside. He hummed “Honey Bee” and danced all the way to the truck. He’d couldn’t wait to tell Paxton that there was a possibility she’d be living in Bowie.

  * * *

  Thursday Rose uncovered more boxes of stuff in the storage room, and put out Easter items on one display shelf, and Mother’s Day on another one. She got the first text from Hud when she was arranging cute little plaques and necklaces that had to do with mothers.

  He asked: Busy?

  She shot one back: Yep. No end to gift shop stuff.

  One came back: Call you tonight?

  She sent back a smiley face with hearts for eyes.

  So many things reminded her of the last Mother’s Day she’d spent with her own mother three years ago. She’d come home on a week’s leave and had gotten her mother a tabletop mixer. She’d known that her mother, Echo, would take it to the dining room for everyone in the commune to use, but that was okay with Rose, because her mother was the primary cook. When she was a little girl, she’d always picked a bouquet of wildflowers from the fields of Kentucky, and later when she was a teenager, she’d made her a necklace from a smooth river rock hanging on braided strips of cloth.

  Seeing all those little Mother’s Day things made her miss her mama so much. She sat down on the dusty wooden floor of the storage room, put her head in her hands, and let the tears flow. When she had children, she wanted them to live so close that she could see them every year on Mother’s Day. She hoped they would bring her bouquets and maybe little handmade things that she could keep forever.

  She wiped her tears away with the back of her hand and hurried into the shop to answer the phone. “Rose Garden Bed-and-Breakfast.”

  “Miz Molly?” a thin little high-pitched voice asked.

  “This is her niece, Rose. Miz Molly is out of town on vacation, and I’m taking care of things for her,” she said.

  “Well, darlin’, this is Edna Davis, and we have reservations for tomorrow night. I’m just calling to make sure that everything is still good for us to arrive after three,” Edna said.

  “That’s perfectly all right,” Rose said.

  “Well, we had a wonderful honeymoon there many years ago and we always come back to the B&B to relive it. Tell Miz Molly hello for us,” she said.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Rose said.

  “Bye now,” Edna said and the call ended.

  “Who was that?” Luna poked her head in the door.

  “We’ve got guests coming tomorrow night. I guess Aunt Molly didn’t get a few of them called to cancel reservations before she left,” Rose told her.

  “Well, dammit! I thought maybe someone died.” Luna’s eyes twinkled.

  “Aunt Luna!” Rose scolded.

  Luna shrugged. “I was only teasing, but I do like a good wake.”

  Luna came into the room and peeked inside a box of Christmas items. “I’ll help you get this crap put out. Folks is going to swarm in here like flies on cow patties soon as they hear we’ve got more stuff at half price.”

  “You’re pretty good at selling stuff,” Rose told her.

  “Comes from hawkin’ stuffed animals and other trinkets at the carnival.” She carried two snow globes at a time toward an empty shelf.

  “I thought you were a fortune-teller,” Rose said.

  “I was until I got tired of it. I tried everything there
was to do in the carnival before we sold the thing. Sometimes I wish me and Wilbur woulda kept it until we died.” She came back for a couple more snow globes and wound each one up before she put it on the shelf. “Why on earth would people collect these things?”

  Rose started setting out Mother’s Day things. “I don’t know. We didn’t have room at the commune to have much that couldn’t be shared with everyone else. When I got into the military, I didn’t want to surround myself with stuff I’d have to move.”

  The phone rang again, and Rose ran from the back of the shop to the checkout counter. She grabbed it on the third ring, and answered it.

  “Hello, this is a friend of Luna’s. Would she be around?” A man with a deep southern drawl asked. Was it finally Wilbur? Rose wondered. Or perhaps it might be Teddy from the square dancing the night before.

  “Sure thing. Just hold on,” she said.

  “You will need to deposit another two dollars and thirty cents,” the tinny voice of a telephone operator said.

  “Aunt Luna, it’s for you, and it’s from a pay phone,” Rose said.

  “Thank God!” Luna had just wound up another snow globe, and she carried it back to the checkout with her. She took the phone from Rose and said, “Wilbur, you old sumbitch, why’d you wait so long to call me?”

  She listened for a minute while Rose went back to unload the rest of her box of Mother’s Day things, and then there was a crash. Rose peeked around the end of the shelving to see that Luna had dropped the snow globe on the floor. All the color had drained from her face, and she was slowly sliding down the back side of the counter toward the floor. Rose had started to run toward her when she noticed that Luna’s eyes were rolling back in her head. She barely made it before her aunt fell right into the pile of broken glass. The music box in the snow globe was still playing “Blue Christmas.”

  “Aunt Luna, open your eyes, and talk to me,” Rose said as she reached for her phone to call 911.

  Tears flowed down her aunt’s face as she opened her eyes just enough to look up at Rose. “That sumbitch married that woman from the grocery store. He flat-out married her in a courthouse wedding, and he’s moved out of our trailer and in with her. And he didn’t even call me and tell me his self. One of the guys from the trailer park called. He wouldn’t marry me or give me a weddin’ ring, and now she’s got both.”