Cowboy Up

by Stacy Finz

  “I’ll find out if they offer me the job,” she said, running her fingers through his chest hairs.

  “But you’ll probably get it, right? I mean, they wouldn’t fly you out unless they were serious.”

  “I hope so.”

  She sounded so damn happy about it that he felt like a forlorn idiot and tried to remind himself that they were neighbors with benefits. Friends. Nothing more. He’d wanted it that way. In fact, he’d been the one to insist they keep anything remotely romantic on the down low.

  “You okay?” she asked, cocking her head to one side.

  “Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?” He kissed her, trying to make it light, not desperate. But he couldn’t control the urgency in which he took her lips and her mouth, because by this time next week, she might not be around to kiss anymore.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck, fully giving herself over to him. “You do realize your boots are still on?” she whispered.

  He stared down at his feet and saw the black Justins. “Ah hell, I didn’t kick you, did I?”

  “Not at all, or maybe you did, but I was too busy feeling amazing.” Her face lit up. Cash had a sudden compulsion to tell her not to go on the interview, but what good would that do? He stopped himself.

  What was the point?

  “I guess we got a little carried away.” He kicked off the boots and heard them hit the ground, then rolled her under him.

  All thoughts of Vegas could wait.

  Chapter 17

  Aubrey’s bedroom was starting to resemble a dressing room at Nordstrom. There were so many clothes strewn on the bed, she could no longer see the comforter. Jill’s surprise birthday party shouldn’t have been a big deal dress wise. A pair of jeans, boots, and a T-shirt was pretty much the dress code for any Dry Creek affair, including weddings. Sometimes, the ladies changed it up with denim skirts and lace tops, but that was as formal as it got.

  This time, though, she wanted to make a bold statement. Something that said don’t mess with me.

  “I liked the black one.” Ellie lay in the middle of Aubrey’s clutter, watching the fashion show.

  “The dress or the pantsuit?”

  “The dress, the one that’s cut out in the back.”

  Aubrey liked it too, but it was a wee bit over-the-top for a backyard barbecue with vinyl tablecloths and buckets of Budweiser. “You don’t think it’s too dressy?” Why was she asking a twelve-year-old when she knew damned well it was too much?

  Ellie shrugged. “It’s my favorite.”

  It was Mitch’s too, another good reason not to wear it.

  “What about this one?” Aubrey twirled in the floral halter dress she had on. “Too Laura Ashley threw up?”

  “Who’s Laura Ashley?”

  Kids these days. “A famous fashion designer.”

  “Never heard of her.”

  “That’s probably because they don’t sell her clothes at Hollister.” Aubrey checked her ass in the mirror on the back of the door. “Well, what do you think?”

  Ellie propped herself up on a couple of throw pillows and appraised the dress. “I still like the black one better.”

  “The black one’s out, so stick to the program. We’re focusing on this one now.”

  “It’s okay. I like the top part.”

  That wasn’t very helpful. She wondered if Cash would like it. “Does my butt look big?” How could it not with giant posies plastered on her derriere?

  Ellie studied her behind. “No. It’s good in that.”

  At least that was something. Aubrey could tone it down with flat sandals, instead of the three-inch heels she usually wore with the dress when she met with her city clients. She took another look in the mirror. “Then this is it.”

  “What should I wear?” Ellie asked.

  It was on the tip of Aubrey’s tongue to say anything Ellie wanted, but what would be the fun in that? “Should we check out your closet?”

  Ellie shrugged. “Okay.”

  Cash had gone with Jace on something that had to do with the Bealses’ stolen cattle. He’d been tight-lipped about it and had asked her to watch Ellie for an hour or so, which wasn’t a hardship. When Ellie wasn’t being sullen, she was delightful.

  Ten minutes later, they played Project Runway in Ellie’s room. This time, Aubrey sat on the bed while Ellie tried on clothes. For a girl who’d worn uniforms to school, she had quite a few outfits. Jeans, shorts, skirts, and dresses.

  “I like those,” Aubrey said of a pair of white jeans with little daisies embroidered down the sides.

  “I don’t think kids around here wear stuff like this.” Ellie went to the bathroom to check herself out in the mirror. Another thing for Aubrey to add to the list. They could get a full-length mirror to hang behind the door at a Walmart or Target as soon as they went on that shopping expedition.

  “Sure they do,” Aubrey called to her. “What we need to get you are some cowboy boots.” She’d put that on the list too. That was something Cash and Ellie could do together. The man knew a thing or two about boots. She laughed to herself, remembering him in bed with them on.

  Aubrey laughed a lot these days, despite losing her job, her home, and a fiancé she never really loved. Her whole world had been turned upside down, yet she’d never been happier.

  With Mitch, everything had been a test.

  Although they’d grown up together, they’d only started dating when she’d come home from college and Mitch had hired her to work for Reynolds Construction. He’d been a great boss, rewarding her with bonuses and commendations when they made their sales goals. And in the beginning, the romance had been sweet. Not the kind of stuff musicians wrote songs about but steady and solid. He’d bring flowers every Friday night and make her breakfast in bed on Sundays. And for the first couple of years, that had been enough.

  But after a while it became apparent that her place in the relationship was to be the woman behind the man. When she made him look good, he reciprocated by giving her a trinket or whisking her away for the weekend to stay at a fancy resort. The rest of the time, their relationship stayed flat. Basically, roommates with benefits whose sole conversations revolved around work.

  She’d chalked it up to the highs and lows of any long-term partnership. But as the years went by, the romance continued to stagnate. Her mother and her friends convinced her that marriage would infuse new life into the relationship.

  It wasn’t as if Mitch hadn’t pressed the issue. Every year at tax time, he proposed, usually with a quip about how much they could save if they filed jointly.

  Each time, she threw out a lame excuse for why they should wait. Until one day she decided she wasn’t getting any younger, wanted to have kids, and had already invested ten years in the relationship.

  What a mistake that had been. Not once had Mitch made her feel the way Cash did. Like every day held more promise than the last.

  In just a few weeks, Mr. Cash Dalton had left his mark. But could a woman fall that quickly for a guy, or was she simply on the rebound? The question would be moot if she got the Vegas job. It was an eight-hour drive from Dry Creek Ranch, too far to maintain a relationship. Maintain? What she and Cash had could hardly be called a relationship, she reminded herself.

  “Aubrey, there’s a spider in here,” Ellie yelled from the bathroom. “Could you kill it?”

  Aubrey found Ellie standing on the toilet seat, a daddy longlegs creeping along the old linoleum floor. She ripped off a piece of toilet paper, snatched the spider up, and took it outside to let it go.

  Ellie followed her to the porch. “Why didn’t you kill it?”

  “Because it wasn’t hurting anyone and spiders eat flies.”

  “I’d rather have flies in the house than spiders,” Ellie said. “I hate them.”

  “Tell your dad; he’ll kill them for you.” Aubre
y suspected Cash would do anything for his little girl. Case in point: Ellie’s pink bedroom redo.

  “He has before,” Ellie said in such a matter-of-fact way that it made Aubrey grin.

  As they stood on the porch, talking about spiders, a delivery truck came up the long driveway. Aubrey shielded her eyes to see if she could read the logo on the side of the truck.

  “I think that may be your furniture,” she told Ellie.

  Ellie climbed up on the porch railing to have a better look and nearly gave Aubrey a heart attack. The rotted wood wasn’t strong enough to hold even a petite child.

  Aubrey circled Ellie’s waist and lifted her off the top rail. “It’s not safe, El.”

  Together, they went down the stairs to wait. Furniture deliveries to Aubrey were something akin to Christmas morning. She loved watching her clients’ reaction and joined in their excitement. From Ellie, though, she wasn’t feeling it.

  “Well, are you anxious to see how everything looks?” She draped her arm over Ellie’s shoulder.

  “I guess,” Ellie said, with the same reaction Aubrey showed when her mother made split pea soup. “Was it superexpensive?”

  “Not too bad.” Aubrey pulled Ellie in for a hug. It was sweet of her to be conscientious about money, especially because Cash was out of a job. “Your dad just wants you to enjoy it, so no worries.”

  Ellie didn’t say anything, but Aubrey sensed she was conflicted. Perhaps money had been really tight for her and her mother.

  The truck got up to the house, then hung a U-turn so the tailgate faced the porch. Two strapping guys hopped out, one holding a clipboard.

  For the next thirty minutes, they unloaded while Aubrey told them where to place the pieces she’d picked out. When the deliverymen left, Aubrey played with the positions of the furniture until she got everything just right. The room was coming together.

  “Put that over there.” She handed Ellie a lamp and pointed to the nightstand. “When we go to town we’ll get a better lampshade.” The one it came with was plain white, not very imaginative.

  They heard tires crunching gravel and dirt. Cash was home. Ellie ran to the living room to look outside the window.

  “It’s not my dad,” she called to Aubrey, who was trying not to look overanxious.

  “No? Who is it?” Sawyer probably. Aubrey knew he came over a lot to raid Cash’s refrigerator.

  “I don’t know, but whoever it is has a truck like Uncle Jace’s.”

  Well, that described 99 percent of the vehicles in Dry Creek. Aubrey strolled into the living room to see who it was only for the truck to continue up the road and stop directly in front of her cabin.

  She squinted at the familiar-looking Ford and watched Mitch get down from the driver’s seat. What the hell was he doing here?

  “Do you know him?” Ellie asked.

  “Yep. Satan has come calling. Let’s see what he wants.”

  The two of them headed outside and crossed the footbridge to Aubrey’s house, Ellie trying to keep up with Aubrey’s long strides. Mitch, who’d been standing in front of Aubrey’s door, must’ve heard them over the roar of the creek and turned around.

  “What do you want, Mitch?”

  Mitch crossed his arms and started to say something profane, then stopped himself as soon as he saw Ellie. At least he had the decency to realize his language wasn’t fit for a child.

  “You and I need to talk.” He looked at her, and then at Ellie, as if to say get rid of the kid.

  Aubrey wasn’t afraid of Mitch Reynolds. But the idea of keeping Ellie around just to irk him was appealing, even though she had no intention of putting Cash’s sweet little girl in the middle of this.

  “Hey, Ellie, there’s ice cream in my kitchen. Why don’t you go fix yourself a bowl. I’ll be right in.”

  “No, thank you.” Ellie wouldn’t leave her side, bless her heart.

  With arms akimbo, Ellie tried to mimic Mitch’s stance. Aubrey noted that she still had on the white jeans with the daisy embroidery. There was a smudge on the knee, probably from moving the new furniture around.

  “El”—Aubrey bent down and kissed the top of her head—“Mitch and I have to have a grown-up discussion. Go inside and eat some ice cream, please.” As Ellie started for the stairs, Aubrey whispered in her ear, “I’ll tell you everything, promise.”

  As soon as Ellie disappeared behind the door, Mitch said, “What kind of crap are you up to, Aubrey?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  He was psycho. She couldn’t remember what she’d seen in him in the first place. Compared to Cash, Mitch looked like an overgrown frat boy. Everything about him reminded Aubrey of a self-indulged child.

  Cash, on the other hand, was all man. All cowboy.

  “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

  “No, I don’t. What I do know is, the rumor you’ve spread about Jace and me has caused me no end of problems, including my livelihood, and if you keep it up, my lawyer says we’re going to sue.” Okay, she’d pulled that one out of her ass. She didn’t have a regular manicurist, let alone an attorney. But Mitch, being in construction, knew all about lawsuits and how they could grind his business to a halt. Why not put the fear of God in him?

  “Who’s your lawyer?” He bobbed his head at her. “Who?”

  She reached for a name, any name, and came up with “Jean Luc Mennard, that’s who. Go ahead and look him up. He’ll chew you up and spit you out like that disgusting tobacco you put in your mouth.”

  Mitch leaned against his truck, like he wasn’t the least bit worried. “You’re still a total whack job, I see.” He tilted his head at Aubrey’s living room window, where Ellie’s face was smashed against the glass, spying on them. “Who’s the kid?”

  “Cash Dalton’s daughter, not that it’s any of your business.”

  “You throw Jace over for his cousin?” Mitch laughed, and she wanted to shove her fist in his face.

  “Did you throw Jill over for another one of your best friend’s wives?” She squinted up at him defiantly, letting him know she had the goods to crush him in this town. “Don’t mess with me, Mitch.”

  He let out a bark of laughter. “The best thing that ever happened to me was the day you walked out. To think, I could’ve been stuck with you for the rest of my life.”

  To think she could’ve been stuck with a man who had so little honor that he’d boff his best friend’s wife. “Mitch, what do you want?”

  “I want you to stay away from Jill’s party on Saturday. Knowing you, you’ll make a scene and blow everything out of proportion, like you did at the coffee shop. Save us all the drama, Ree, and make yourself scarce. I’ll even get your car detailed for you.”

  So, Mitch was running scared. Interesting that he’d brought up her car. “Brett wants me there, Mitch, and I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” She flashed a big saccharine smile. “Jace will be there too, and he knows what you did this summer.”

  “God, you’re crazy. Why don’t you move to Sacramento or San Francisco, where you can get the help you need?”

  “Did you pay someone to graffiti my car and put water in my gas tank, Mitch?” He probably put Leroy up to it. Leroy was the only person she could think of in town who couldn’t spell “whore.”

  Mitch made the cuckoo-cuckoo sign with his finger. “I’m serious: get some help. And if you and Jace care about Brett, you’ll keep your mouths shut. It’s not like anyone would believe you anyway.”

  Probably not after Mitch had started his ugly rumor campaign.

  “Brett would,” she said. “But the difference between you and me is that I could never hurt Brett. Never.”

  “Whatever, Aubrey.” He opened his truck door and started to get in. “Just try to contain the crazy for an afternoon. No one needs another replay of your coffee shop
melt down. You’re lucky I dropped the charges.”

  After she’d spent five hours in a cell that reeked of stale urine.

  “You’re lucky I didn’t aim higher with that carafe.”

  He rolled his eyes, got in his truck, and slammed the door closed.

  Aubrey had no intention of letting him drive off without giving him a piece of her mind. And a warning. “Don’t you dare screw up Jace’s chance at reelection. Do you hear me, Mitch?” She jerked the door open before he could drive off. “I’m talking to you.”

  “Let go of the door, Aubrey.”

  He tried to wrestle it closed and knocked over a Dutch Bros coffee cup in the struggle. The lid popped off and coffee spilled all over the passenger seat. “Goddamn it. Now look what you’ve done.” He hurriedly cleared a stack of papers before they got soaked.

  A parcel map caught her eye and she leaned in to get a closer look. “What’s that?”

  He jerked it away, but she’d worked at Reynolds Construction long enough to be able to read a plat upside down.

  “That’s Beals Ranch.” She knew from the road designations that flanked the property lines.

  “What it is is none of your business.” He hastily tried to cover the map, but it was too late. She’d seen the red markings that carefully blocked sections of land.

  Someone was planning a housing division.

  Mitch shoved the map along with a pile of other papers behind his seat, then searched through the glove box for napkins. She stood there, trying to process what she’d seen, while he cleaned up the mess. As far as she knew, Beals Ranch wasn’t for sale. The property had been in Jill’s family for generations and was still a working cattle ranch. If it had been on the market, everyone in Dry Creek would’ve known about it. The Bealses, like the Daltons, were an institution in the area.

  Maybe someone had made them an offer too good to refuse. Surely not Mitch. Reynolds Construction did well, but not well enough to afford a thousand California acres of flat, usable land. And if someone else had purchased the property and hired Mitch’s company to develop it, word would’ve spread through the valley like wildfire. Mitch also wouldn’t have acted so squirrelly when Aubrey saw the plat. The blowhard would’ve bragged about bagging the biggest project in the valley and how rich he was going to get.