Rowdy

by Patricia Green

"Bareback."

  "Wow. A tough event."

  "They're all tough. Maybe I just get a little more battered around."

  She grinned. Bareback was the most physically intense event at the rodeo. Bareback riders were almost always working despite an injury. "You're very courageous."

  He looked a little embarrassed. "I don't know about that. I just want to make my eight seconds."

  "A long time to be on a bucking horse without a saddle."

  "For those eight seconds you think you're about to die," he told her. "It's the most exciting eight seconds you can imagine."

  "I'll bet." She thought a Ferris wheel was exciting. There was no imagining being tossed around on a horse, holding on with just one hand.

  They danced for a few more beats before she leaned in and whispered, "I hate this music."

  He whispered back. "Me, too. Give me some good ole Dirks Bentley, Miranda Lambert or Sugarland any day."

  "Yes!" she enthused. "I like your taste."

  He smiled brightly. "Thank you."

  They chatted about music for a short time but then the foxtrot ended and they had to leave the floor. Rowdy guided her back toward her chair. The chair next to hers was empty for the moment, so she gestured for Rowdy to sit down. He hesitated but did.

  "You're not the only cowboy here."

  "No. Just the top five champions in each event were invited. I think we're supposed to be the Western flavor."

  "It's probably my fault," she told him. "They know I come from a Western ranching background. I had to tell them when they asked for a bio."

  Nodding, Rowdy, asked, "Do you have a ranch near Reno?"

  "No. My parents had a ranch near Reno. It's where I grew up." She didn't want to talk about painful memories, so she steered the conversation back at him.

  "Where are you from?"

  "Idaho."

  "Twin Falls?"

  "Rexburg."

  "I've never heard of it."

  He laughed. "No one has."

  She grinned back. His laugh was infectious. A waiter brought them champagne, offering Rowdy a fresh glass. Rowdy turned it down but nodded for Gretchen to partake without him. "Training regimen?"

  "Yep. I don't drink much. I have a beer or a whisky now and then, but rarely more."

  "Very disciplined of you."

  "Everyone has vices," he reminded her. "Drinking isn't one of mine, is all."

  She was feeling comfortable with him, so she flirted a little. "What is your vice, Rowdy?"

  He smiled and winked. "Not tellin'."

  "I can guess."

  "Doubtful."

  "You gamble?"

  "Nope."

  "You smoke?" she asked, wrinkling her nose.

  "Not when I like to breathe," he quipped.

  "You take drugs?"

  "Do I look like a druggie to you?"

  She took the opportunity to look him over well. He'd as much as given his permission, she told herself. "No, you don't." After a pause, she asked, "You chase women?" He blushed. It was so remarkable, Gretchen giggled. "I've guessed it! I have!"

  "No, ma'am. I'm afraid it's the opposite."

  Confusion swept over her. "You mean, they chase you?"

  He looked embarrassed. "Maybe. Sometimes."

  He was a very handsome, masculine man, it would be weird if women didn't chase after him. "I'll bet they do. Well, I can't guess your vice."

  "Just as well."

  "Will you ever tell me?"

  "Maybe." He smiled, his embarrassment gone. "Depends on if you'll let me see you again."

  "Are you asking me out, Mr. Rowdy Jackson?"

  "Breakfast tomorrow?"

  Was he insinuating they'd be together all night first? Because if he was…

  "Not like that," he explained, reading her mind. "I'll pick you up and we'll go to the diner where the cowboys grab breakfast. The food is good."

  Not knowing if it was better or worse, she decided it was better to start slow. Although, he was a mighty tempting fellow, she hadn't been with a man since she'd gotten pregnant with Amy six years ago. Now was not the time to change her ways. "I'd like to have breakfast with you."

  She told him her hotel and her cell phone number. Bob would have a cow.

  "Very well, Gretchen," Rowdy said, offering his hand as the dance music turned to a two-step. "One more dance?"

  "I'd be delighted."

  One more dance became five more and then the band stopped playing for the night. It was clear they had to leave. Bob came up to Gretchen's side as Rowdy released her on the dance floor at the end of the music.

  "I'll see you tomorrow," Rowdy told her. "Eight AM."

  "I'll be waiting."

  He flicked his eyes toward Bob, then focused on Gretchen. "Good night, Gretchen." He tipped his hat and gave her a good-bye nod.

  She smiled. "Good night, Rowdy."

  Bob was frowning as she turned from watching Rowdy saunter away. "What?" she asked.

  He continued to frown, dark brows drawn together over his slightly crooked broad nose. "Tomorrow?"

  "We're having breakfast together," she explained, holding up her hand to brook no argument. "That's final."

  "Gretchen, you don't know him. He might be bad news."

  "I want to have a life, Bob. You can come along."

  "You bet I will."

  "Bob… you work for me, remember?"

  He looked hurt. "Sure. But you trust me to take care of you, don't you?"

  Sighing, she agreed.

  "Let's get you back to the Palms."

  "Yes, Bob. Eight o'clock comes early."

  He snorted.

  "Don't be a spoilsport. I'm going on the first date I've had in years and you aren't going to ruin it for me."

  A resigned look passed over his features. "Time to go."

  She practically skipped out of the ballroom. "I wonder what I should wear?" she mumbled, grinning all the way to the limo.

  Chapter 2

  The guard at the station, about one hundred feet in front of the doors to the Palms Sky Villa where Gretchen was staying, called and spoke to Bob. Gretchen overheard Bob's end of the conversation. Bob was gruff, his voice resentful. A twinge of annoyance passed over Gretchen, but she told herself to refuse feeling like a prisoner today. Not today, when Rowdy was taking her to breakfast. Amy wanted to go, and Gretchen had been glad to give permission.

  There was a knock on the thick door and Bob got it, letting Rowdy into the room. Rowdy looked around, whistled quietly and followed where Bob led. Excited, Gretchen couldn't wait in the spacious living area, instead waiting at its French doors at the end of the foyer.

  "Rowdy!" she called, feeling joy rush through her body, though she was a little self-conscious of her slightly damp hair, wet from a morning swim in the cantilevered pool attached to the villa. The frilly pink dress she wore made her feel pretty and she'd put on her old scuffed, red cowboy boots, remnants of her time on the ranch five years previous.

  He smiled and sauntered toward her, the heels of his boots ticking on the polished marble floor. Amy rushed by Gretchen and ran to Rowdy, hugging his legs when he was about five feet in front of Gretchen.

  "Rowdy!" the little girl echoed.

  He bent down and patted Amy on her upper arm. "Hello, peanut. You gonna join Mama and me for breakfast?"

  "Yes!"

  "Good enough. Now let me say hi to your ma and we'll get going."

  Amy disengaged and ran back to the living room where Gretchen heard Melody talking to her.

  "Hello, Gretchen," he said, reaching for her hand and taking it gently, swinging it from side to side smoothly. "You're pretty as a peach today."

  Gretchen felt her face warm up with the compliment. "Thank you. It's good to see you again. Did you sleep well?"

  "Dreamt of you."

  "Aw. I hope that's good."

  "Yep. Good as spring clover in the pasture."

  She laughed. It had been so long since she'd heard country metap
hors. It was comforting, reminding her of good childhood days on her family's ranch.

  "You about ready to head off?"

  Nodding, she let go of his hand and went into the living room to get her purse. He followed. "Nice to see how the other half lives," he said good-naturedly. Gretchen didn't detect even the slightest bit of envy in his voice. In fact, it was a little embarrassing to be ensconced in the three-bedroom villa at the off-strip resort. It wasn't even the most expensive suite at the hotel! It was the one Gretchen liked from the pictures, though, and although she intellectually knew she could afford more, she thought the price was high enough. There was no point in getting crazy. As it was, Steve, their night guard, had his own room on the same floor, so he could sleep during the day. Gretchen's Mega Millions win the previous year still hadn't quite settled in. Harry said it would take time, and it looked like he'd be right about this as he was about many things.

  The exchange made her uncomfortable so she said the first thing which came to mind. "Would you like to have an orange juice at the bar?" The seventeen-seat en-suite bar was overkill, to say the least. Gretchen felt stupid as soon as the words left her mouth.

  Fortunately, Rowdy didn't take it the wrong way. "How 'bout we have our juice with our breakfast?"

  "Oh, right. Sorry."

  "You were just being polite. I understand. Let's get going."

  Amy hurried over. "Are we going to ride your horse?"

  Rowdy chuckled. "Sorry, peanut, but my horses are all at home. I ride other people's crazy horses so don't need to ride my friendly horses at the rodeo."

  Amy looked disappointed, but hugged Miss Daisy closer and followed her mother when Gretchen followed Rowdy to the foyer. Bob waited at the doors.

  "The limo is waiting, Gretchen."

  "I thought we'd take my truck," Rowdy suggested.

  "We can't all fit in your truck," Bob pointed out.

  "It's a big truck. Me and Gretchen and Amy can surely fit."

  Bob shook his head and crossed his arms over his thick chest.

  Rowdy turned to Gretchen. "Is he saying he and Melody are coming, too?"

  Gretchen looked at Bob, whose face was set. "Um…"

  Melody spoke up. "How about if Amy and I follow in the limo, you, Bob and Rowdy go in the truck?"

  Bob frowned, but this was a date and she wanted to spend it talking to Rowdy, not being driven around in a limo. Amy would be safe with Melody in the big car, and Bob would see to her own safety, just in case Gretchen had gotten a mistaken idea of Rowdy's intent.

  She overrode Bob's frown. "Good idea, thanks Melody. Okay with you, Rowdy?"

  He looked perturbed but nodded his agreement.

  "Great! Let's go!" Gretchen was anxious to get past this pissing match and onto more pleasant things.

  They took the glass elevator down to the lobby and to the VIP entrance where the limo waited. Rowdy turned in his valet parking ticket and the valet cheerfully went to fetch his truck. It only took three minutes or so, but then the shiny, silver RAM truck was delivered.

  "I want to ride with Rowdy!" Amy exclaimed.

  Gretchen hunkered down next to her daughter. "Maybe next time, sweetie. Bob wants you to ride with Melody this time."

  "I hate Bob."

  "You don't hate him. He keeps us safe. There are bad people who want to hurt us."

  The little brunette bit her ruby lips. "Okay. But I think Rowdy would keep us safe."

  "Probably. But let's do it this way this time. Let's play the princess game. You pretend Melody is your mom, and I'll pretend you're a mysterious stranger, who lives like a princess. Of course, I'm just a lowly peasant, too poor to know a princess, so you shouldn't even see me."

  "I like being a princess."

  "Do you want to wear your princess crown?"

  "No. I'm hungry. You have to pretend I'm a princess even though I don't have a crown."

  "Be extra nice to Melody, sweetie."

  "Okay." She reached up to hug her mother. "Call me Princess Amilee."

  "Go get in the limo, Princess Amilee."

  Amy turned on her heel and preceded Melody into the back of the limo while the driver held the door open. Melody shot a look at Gretchen, a shrug with her eyes. Gretchen smiled slightly but these kinds of deceptions always sat badly with her.

  Silently, Bob climbed into the back seat of the truck, and although there was plenty of room, the big man looked cramped and unhappy. Rowdy lent Gretchen a steadying hand as she stepped up into the front seat, and then he came around and got into the driver's seat.

  "Where are we going?" she asked, hoping to break the uncomfortable silence as they left the VIP parking zone.

  "The Gray Coyote Diner. It's down south of here."

  "Is it far?"

  "Hungry?" he asked with a smile.

  "Yes, a bit."

  "We'll fix you right up. The food at the diner is hearty and tasty. I'll introduce you to some of my friends while we're there."

  "Cowboys from the rodeo?"

  "Yep."

  "Okay. I'd like to meet your friends."

  "Well, they aren't exactly refined, but they're a good bunch of honest cowboys."

  "If they're anything like you, I'll like them."

  "Why thank you, ma'am." He reached over and patted her knee. Bob cleared his throat from the backseat, a clear ‘hands-off’ warning. Rowdy ignored him and gave her knee a squeeze as they drove along.

  Gretchen was thrilled. Bob meant well, but he was a big bully when confronting anyone who wanted to get closer to Gretchen. Gretchen could wrap him around her finger when it was necessary, but she also knew he had her best interests at heart so didn't thwart him often.

  With Bob present, their conversation was a little stilted, but it soon turned to horses, something they both knew about and appreciated. It was a safe topic which didn't lead to uncomfortable questions about where Amy came from and how, or how Gretchen had become so independent from her family.

  Soon they were at the diner.

  Rowdy helped Gretchen down and left the door open for Bob to deal with. They held hands as they approached the glass diner doors. It was busy inside, full of men with cowboy hats and a smattering of pretty women. Bob caught up and once inside, he stuck out like a sore thumb in his dark suit and sensible shoes. Gretchen tried to pretend she was just with Rowdy and not being shadowed by the big bodyguard.

  A young man part way across the big room half-stood and waved at Rowdy. Rowdy led her by the hand to his friend, who looked her over but good. He didn't seem smarmy, more appreciative than anything else.

  "Rowdy, introduce me to your lady friend," the blond-haired man with green eyes said.

  Rowdy grinned. "Owen Davis, this is–"

  "Just call me Nellie," Gretchen said. It would pass muster with Bob and it was a childhood nickname from her father and friends.

  Rowdy squeezed her hand but acted as though nothing was amiss.

  Owen stood up tall, though he was a few inches shy of Rowdy's height. He reached for Gretchen's hand and she dropped Rowdy's paw to shake the blond man's hand. He seemed affable enough. The other man at the table greeted Rowdy amiably as well. The two women there looked over Rowdy and seemed to find something they liked because their smiles became personal.

  Gretchen was a little surprised Bob wasn't glowering over her shoulder, but he'd taken a seat at the lunch counter and was watching her in the back mirror. People gave him odd looks, but he ignored everyone but her. It was reassuring in a kind of annoying way.

  "Sit, sit," Owen said, squeezing into the booth to make room for them. He hung an arm over the buxom blonde next to him. Her t-shirt said “Non-GMO, these are natural”. Gretchen found it rather tacky, but to each her own.

  The two beside Owen and his girlfriend said their good-byes amiably and headed out.

  "So how have you been?" Owen asked Rowdy.

  "Good," Rowdy replied. "You just saw me yesterday."

  Owen grinned. "True, but you were alone
yesterday. You won the go-round and pretty much bailed on us." He turned toward Gretchen. "How are you, young lady?"

  Gretchen thought it odd to be called ‘young lady’ by a guy who was maybe a year older than she, but she smiled at the man. "I'm fine, thanks. You're a bareback rider like Rowdy?"

  "Yep. Rowdy and I go back to college days." He eyed her again and this time it was a little disrespectful. Gretchen stiffened. "So how did you two meet?"

  Rowdy began to speak, but Gretchen really wanted to keep her identity a secret, fearing the more people who could relate her personally to her status as a lottery winner, the unhappier her security people would be. And, of course, the less likely chance for mischief. She interrupted, "We were looking at the Bellagio fountains."

  Rowdy reached to her hand in her lap and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

  Owen, however, was beginning to think she was easy, because he asked, "So you had a lot in common?"

  Rowdy practically growled. "Owen–"

  "Owen and I like the same TV shows," the non-GMO blonde with dark roots said, oblivious to the undercurrent. "Sit-coms are my favorite. It's too bad Owen is so busy with his rodeo stuff he doesn't get to watch all the episodes with me."

  Owen winked at Rowdy, and a busboy came by to clear the dishes from the table. Owen's party had eaten well. There were a lot of dishes.

  Did rodeo cowboys have groupies? It might explain the air-head girl who sat on Gretchen's left. An idea struck Gretchen. If Rowdy's friends thought she was a groupie, they'd ignore her and never catch on to her real identity.

  Melody and Amy sat down not far away. Amy looked like she was going to run over to her mother, but Melody calmed her and somehow kept the five-year-old seated. People looked at the pair, clearly wondering what a woman in business wear was doing in a cowboy diner. Gretchen glanced over at Bob, wondering if anyone would make a connection between the two oddly dressed people.

  Owen appeared to voice the thought racing around the room. "She must be that charity person. Some lucky gal won a bundle o' bucks and I heard the food banks did a whole gala for her and some of the top cowboys were invited to attend."

  "Hm," Gretchen replied, hoping they'd change the subject soon.

  "Wonder who told her about this place?" Owen continued. "She ought to be having room service at some fancy hotel."