Cowgirl Education: a Camden Ranch Novel

by Jillian Neal

  “Did you know when you saw Daddy get out of his truck to help you? Did you know you were gonna marry him? Does it work like that for the Camden girls, too?”

  Her mother’s warm smile eased the tense set of Holly’s shoulders. She studied Holly intently for a long moment and then closed her eyes. “Mama?”

  “Must be dust in my eyes or something.”

  “Why are you crying?”

  With a few rapid blinks, her mother ridded her hunter green eyes, duplicates of Holly’s, of emotion. “I’m not. It’s just that’s quite a question from my youngest baby.” Holly and her mother were momentarily distracted when Aurora Belle shifted oddly and groaned.

  “Oh God, I can’t stand for her to hurt, Mama.” She bit back the demand for her mother to make everything okay. To make the pain stop, both hers and the horses. That’s what her mother had always done when she was a little girl. If realizing your mama can’t always make everything better was what it required, Holly wasn’t certain she was really ready to grow up.

  “There. She’s all right for now.” Jessie tenderly eased her hand down the horse’s side until she settled once again. “Now, let’s see about this question. Before I answer that, I think you might want to figure why you asked.”

  “I asked because I want to know if you knew, too.”

  “That ain’t why you asked me, Holly. You asked because you want me to tell you that I knew as soon as I saw him that he was the one, and you want me to tell you that because you desperately want there to be a reason for why you’re feeling the way you’re feeling about this gentleman that’s got my girl on a runaway horse without any reins. You want me to tell you that I knew I was gonna end up being Mrs. Everett Camden, owner of the legendary Camden Ranch in Pleasant Glen, Nebraska. You want me to tell you that this is all gonna work out just the way you want it to, but I can’t do that, sweetheart.

  “Life doesn’t give us any kind of assurances that things will work out the way we want them to. I guess what I’m trying to say is that the reason you asked the question is far more important than the question itself. If you want it to work out a certain way, baby, you got to work for it just as much as you hope for it.

  “I will tell you this, though. When your daddy hopped down outta that old Ford truck, I knew he was different. I knew he was worth something, and you know I never gave one hoot or a holler about his money. I knew he was worth getting to know. He was worth loving. Knew if it ever came down to it he was worth saving. Worth so much more than any of the boys I’d chased back in Denver. His worth somehow made me understand my own. I did take one look in those eyes and I knew I wanted to know him. And that night when he brought me out here to this very barn we’re sitting in and kissed me, I felt something I’d never felt before. It wasn’t about me knowing he was the one for me forever. It was figuring out that I was willing to work to make us be forever. That’s when I knew. So, let me ask you, sweet girl, is he worth something? Is he worth your forever?”

  “I think he might be, Mama.” Holly damned back her own stubbornness and told her mother the truth. “I’ve never felt like this before. I’ve only known him a week. How can I feel this way?” Her mother scooted closer and opened her arms. Holly fell into her mother’s embrace. “I’m scared.”

  You are a completely pathetic fuck-trumpet. Dec stared down at the four coffee makers in his cart at the housewares store. He was still in awe of the size of the store. In London, stores were stacked four deep and one could not possibly push a cart large enough to even hold the coffee makers he’d chosen.

  Buying her all four probably crossed into some kind of deranged stalker territory, but the offered bells and whistles made no sense to him. He needed guidance. He also desperately wanted a hit and shopping for her provided a decent distraction from the constant need clawing under his skin.

  “Can I help you, sir?” The saleswoman hoisted her cleavage outward, licked her lips, and adjusted her brown apron. Dec made no effort to hide his eye roll. Those don’t interest me, dear. I held the holy grail of tits in my hands last evening and those are the only ones I want to stare at. Dear God, what was happening to him? He paused for a brief second to recall the heady sensation of Holly’s perfectly imperfect nipples pulsing against his tongue. His cock heralded its immediate approval. Okay, nothing wrong, just love proving itself once again to be completely terrifying.

  “Perhaps. My girlfriend has a deep and abiding affection for American coffee. I’ve recently decided that I live to make her smile. I’m sure you understand this. Which of these makes the best coffee?”

  Sales-chick redacted her proffered cleavage. “Girlfriend, huh?” She scowled.

  “Was I unclear? Perhaps it’s my accent.”

  “You from Australia or something?”

  Dec reflected her scowl. “I sound Australian?” He panicked. This simply could not be. His accent could not be slipping. He might never want to return to London, but he had his dignity.

  “I don’t know. You sound kinda like that guy that played the sparkly vampire in those movies with the talking dogs.”

  Fighting not to gag, Dec shuddered at the thought. “I’m from London,” he managed.

  “Oh, yeah, my grandma went there with a church group a few years ago. Her name’s Olive. You might’a seen her.”

  “That is highly doubtful as over eight million people live in London and three times that many tourists visit every year. The coffeemakers?”

  “I thought you all drank tea?”

  “You’ve been terribly helpful. I’ll just go.”

  “Okay. It was my pleasure. I’m supposed to say that we pride ourselves on customer service here at Sheets and Shit.”

  Dec halted his escape. “The name of this store is Sheets and Shit?”

  “Oh no.” Blood flooded the girl’s cheeks. “Well, I mean that’s what we call it, but it’s Lincoln’s Linens. It sucks to work here, though.”

  “I see.”

  After deciding to just buy all four makers, Dec loaded them in the back of his SUV and tried to think of some productive way to spend the rest of this endless day.

  Chapter Nineteen

  By two, the burn that Holly had managed to keep at bay through the night crawled constantly over Dec’s skin. Can’t be that hard to find something to make the time pass faster. She’d never know.

  He shook himself, trying to violently dislodge the cravings. He’d run out of things to purchase for her. He didn’t want to take her time away from her horse or her family by calling. He needed something to do. Something that might douse the burn, ease the chokehold of the call.

  Pacing in the basement of his home, he headed towards his soundproofed music room but stopped before he’d switched on the light. Music wasn’t going to cut it. The demons were playing particularly dirty this afternoon, and his sweet demon-tamer was a hundred miles away by the sounds of it.

  He stripped down to his boxers, threw on a pair of workout shorts, and leapt on the treadmill. Nothing as metaphoric as attempting to outrun the hellish beasts of addiction on a fucking treadmill. You could never escape. You could only keep moving. He knew this. Currently, his knowledge wasn’t helping.

  When he’d run until his muscles wept sweat out every pore, he kept his heartrate up by hopping off the treadmill and mopping off his forehead and hands. Working quickly, still damming the monsters he wrapped his wrists, pulled on his gloves, and beat the shit out of his heavy bag like it was his addiction.

  It never appeared battered or bruised, just continued to swing with every blow of his fist.

  Two hours later, he slid down the tile wall of his shower, buried his face in his hands, and let the water cascade over his back.

  The psychical exertion had at the very least weakened the summons to ease the ache of Holly not being nearby. That was the one problem with working behind a desk. Physical release was the only thing he’d found to ease the desire for a substance when music didn’t work. It was the reason he ran every day at lun
ch.

  Standing, he lathered his hands in shampoo and worked them through his hair. Keeping his eyes shut tightly, he replaced the craving for a line with his craving for Holly. ‘Now, please. Take everything you want. Then take more.’ The memories of her pleading filled him momentarily.

  His audible grunt echoed against the rhythmic drum of the water as he ran his slicked hands down his chest, leaned his head back, and let the water rid his body of the workout. He began the fantasy from her begging him to take more. His hand wrapped tightly around his cock. His piercing throbbed as he began to tug.

  She was naked and blindfolded, bound to his bed, since this was his fantasy. He dragged his cock between her lush tits, drawn into stiff peaks from arousal and curiosity as to what he might do next. Pre-cum leaked down her belly and pooled in that adorable bellybutton he longed to drink expensive whiskey out of.

  His hand worked faster, pumping out his need. ‘Lick your lips and ask me for a taste,’ he commanded.

  She complied readily this time. Trembling as he indulged her body in several nibbles and sucks, keeping her guessing as to where his hands or his mouth might touch next.

  He attempted to dip his cock between her lips. ‘Suck me like a good girl.’

  She shook her head. A sexy pout on her lips. ‘I don’t want to be a good girl. I want to be naughty.’

  His body tensed as he envisioned his hand smacking her firm little ass, turning it deliciously pink.

  ‘Yes,’ she cried out for more.

  ‘Need more? Want me to make you count them, or are you gonna suck me like a good girl?’

  ‘More.’

  Another strike before he massaged away the sting. Then another.

  The fantasy shifted rapidly as his sac drew to his body and his hand pumped faster and harder, bringing on the relief he required. The reality of the evening before, better than anything he could ever have conjured, took over. He pounded inside of her slick walls cinching around him tighter and tighter with every thrust.

  He released the blindfold, needing to see the hunger in her eyes. The lust. The love. He knew now. Another pump. His weary muscles trembled. His hand slicked up his wet cock, twisted at his head, and down, up, twist, down and he unloaded inside of her.

  When the hot jets of cum mixed in with the wet rush of water on his abdomen he tried to enjoy the release and not feel the disappointment that he’d once again come alone thinking of her. God, he needed her to come back to Lincoln. Now.

  If only the monsters resided in his cum or in his sweat, he would have been rid of both, but later that afternoon he was anxious again. The burning sensation licked at his spine. He’d texted Holly but hadn’t gotten an answer.

  What if something happened to her? Then what are you going to do? You’d never be able to get through that without a little help. Why not take it now?

  Dec lifted his favorite Stratocaster and settled in a seat in his music room. He closed his eyes and strummed out the first few chords of The Sound of Silence. Silencing the devil in his head, he began to sing the lyrics over and over.

  The noise of applause ripped him from the reprieve the sound offered. His eyes jerked open. Kade offered him a sheepish grin and continued his one-man applause. Dec wondered if there was any sadder sound in the world.

  “Knocked on the front door several times. Got a little worried after your phone call this morning. Used my key to get in down here. Man, if we could write lyrics like that we could blow this popsicle stand and make your dreams of playing Wembley come true.”

  “I can write lyrics like that. I just have to be high to do it,” Dec huffed. No point in lying, and Kade would generally put up with him when he was being an asshole. For a little while, anyway.

  “Then it ain’t worth it, and you know that, but I’m not gonna lecture you.”

  Kade. Solid as they came.

  “Thanks. I’m sorry. Rough day.”

  “I gathered. Surprised you gave Holly the vampire treatment. I had a good feeling about you two.”

  “The vampire treatment?” Dec’s brow furrowed.

  “Yeah, you know, they’re welcome to come over in the night but gotta be out by the morning light.”

  “I didn’t do that. I didn’t want her to leave. She had to go back home. Her horse is apparently dying.”

  “That sucks. Poor kid. Maybe you should’ve gone with her.”

  “I offered, but you and I both know I’m not the kind of man you take home to meet Dad.”

  “I don’t know that at all. Wyatt says her family’s all right. He knows her brother or something.”

  “Luke?”

  “Nah, I think he said his name was Austin. Something about a PBR champ.”

  “I haven’t heard about him yet. There’s a lot that remains to be said between us, honestly.”

  “Not gonna lie to you, Dec. You don’t look like you’re handling life all that well right now. I’m enacting the privilege you extended me after you joined the band. There’s a meeting at First Baptist tonight. Kind of think we should go. We’ll grab dinner before.”

  “Thank you for having the guts to call me on it. I thought I could handle this. Had the weekend all planned. Dammit, I should be able to handle a change of plans. It’s been eleven years since Evie died. Eleven years since my last hit.”

  “You’ve handled the last eleven years taking them day by day and moment by moment and attending meetings often. You haven’t been in a few weeks. This day and a few of these moments got to you. You and I both know it happens. Let’s get.”

  “You have to give me more than sleeping with Dec is life-altering,” Cheyenne whined. She’d invited herself over for dinner as soon as she’d heard that Holly was back home. Grant was irked. He’d inhaled dinner and headed back out to sit with Aurora Belle.

  For some reason, Holly had no desire to talk about Dec with anyone. She supposed she did owe Cheyenne for calling her so late the other night, though.

  “It wasn’t just the sex, Chey. It’s everything. Everything about him is different. Everything about us. I’m not sure I’m ready to talk about it.”

  “What about the piercing?” Typical Cheyenne — only heard what she wanted to hear.

  “I’ll just say this — you should get over Grant and find a guy with an apadravya piercing for yourself. So, so worth it.”

  “Maybe I could get Grant to get one.”

  That cracked Holly up. “Grant would no more let someone pierce his cock than he would set himself on fire.”

  “Well, I don’t really know anyone who would. Why on earth did Dec do that?”

  “Not sure yet. I was going to find out this weekend, but I had to come home.”

  “Hey, Holl,” Luke leaned his head in Holly’s childhood bedroom. “You might want to come out here. Breathing’s getting awfully shallow.”

  “Oh gosh, I shouldn’t have left her.”

  “Call me if you want to get breakfast in the morning.” Cheyenne headed out of the house.

  Holly sprinted back to the barn. She saw the headlights on Cheyenne’s truck fading away as she drove down the dirt road off the ranch.

  At one o’clock, Holly fell into her bed with fresh tears tracking down her face. It was too dark to bury Aurora Belle that night and Holly just didn’t have the emotional fortitude to help dig a grave. Her entire family had promised to help in the morning. They’d stood in a solid mass in the barn watching her slip away. Luke and Austin had damned the non-existent dust in their eyes. So had her daddy. Indie sobbed uncontrollably and blamed her hormones. Even the boys seemed to have realized the magnitude of the situation as they’d laid quietly on their mama’s and daddy’s shoulders.

  The light on the screen of Holly’s phone split the darkness. Leaning up in bed, she scrubbed her hands over her face and saw four texts from Dec. They eased her weary soul.

  Just wanted to say goodnight, my love. I miss you. I need you.

  She called him back immediately.

  “This is the be
st possible answer to a text.” His voice was soft, soothing.

  “I miss you, too. I didn’t have my phone with me in the barn.” Her voice hung as the pain of loss took another blow at her heart.

  “It’s all right, sweetheart. I’m so sorry. Wanna talk about her?”

  “Not right now. That’ll just make me cry. Tell me about your day.”

  “Started out okay, then got less so.”

  “What happened?”

  “I’m an addict. That’s almost always what happens.”

  “You didn’t use?” Holly knew he hadn’t. She also knew abrupt changes of plans that might’ve left an addict bored with nothing to do could be difficult to navigate. She should have woman-ed up and brought him with her. She’d left him to deal with all of this on his own. Some girlfriend.

  “No. Did all the things I do when I’m fighting. Most days are a little easier than this one. But every now and then things just really suck. I went to a meeting tonight.”

  He was testing her. She could hear it. Did he think knowing he attended a Narcotics Anon meeting would make her run? No, but if she had to guess, she’d say some part of him, the parts of himself that he believed unworthy and unlovable, hoped she would. They wanted to prove themselves right once again. Well, she’d let them win over her dead body.

  “Good. That’s precisely what you should have done. Did you go to the one at First Baptist?”

  “Yeah. How did you know about those?”

  “Worked there a lot last year. Also work the meetings we have here at our little tiny Methodist church in the summers. It’s the closest one in five towns, and they only have a leader there once a month. I always worry about that. What if it’s too far for some people?”

  “You are absolutely incredible, did you know that?”

  “I think the very same thing about you.”

  “Holly, could I. . . ?”

  She knew what he needed, and hated herself for being two hours away from him right now. “Why don’t you tell me your story? I’d really like to hear it.”