Giddy Up Cowboy

by Ann Somuoy

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  Giddy Up Cowboy

  Ann Somuoy

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  Giddy Up Cowboy

  Ann Somuoy

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2016 Ann Somuoy

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  As a city girl I was never into the whole cowboy thing.

  But that all changed when I saw him. Dillon Allistor was a walking, talking, dream come to life. Tall, well built from hard days working on a ranch, with piercing blue eyes, sandy blonde hair and a good ol' southern boy smile that can melt any woman into a puddle.

  So how did I ever set eyes on this real-life romance cover model if I never leave the comforts of New York City? Well, I have my sister to blame, or should I say thank? Even though we looked similar, we couldn't be more different. Both of us had been blessed with flowing, thick blonde hair and hazel eyes— though hers were always on the greener side— middling height, and enough curves to nicely fill out a dress. But while I sought out a fast paced city life, she wanted a slower, simpler one. I never begrudged her for it, far from it. I admired her for taking her own path, even if I thought her talents were wasted in a small town in Texas.

  It had taken her months to convince me to come visit her on the ranch she owns with her husband. Whatever could I do on a ranch? The thought of it hadn't been appealing in the slightest. Cows, horses, the smell of manure, dirt, everything I could avoid in the city. Except for the horses, we did have those in Central Park, but at least they were contained...

  So, after hesitantly agreeing to a week-long torture, er, vacation, I found myself completely out of my element. There were no Louboutins here. Cowboy boots were the footwear of choice, the southern drawls of Country music seemed to drift perpetually in the air. My sister’s ranch seemed like it was in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by acres and acres of fields, though the house itself was quite charming and quaint. Built in the early 1900s, it had two stories of meticulously rustic, country-themed decorated rooms that belonged in an issue of Better Homes and Gardens.

  This was where Sylvia’s talents lie. She’d been an interior decorator, a quite successful one back home in Virginia, but that was before she met and fell in love with her now husband, Clint, about five years ago. After meeting him online, they hit it off almost instantly and had a long distance relationship before she finally took the plunge and moved to Texas. I was as shocked as my family with her decision, but after seeing how happy she was, how good he was for her, my protests slowly diminished.

  “Not like the big city is it, Mel?” Sylvia asked, elbowing me playfully.

  We stood on her wraparound porch, looking out at the nothingness, my bags still at my feet. She’d just picked me up from the airport and I was quietly sulking. What have I gotten myself into?

  She laughed and took my bags inside while I stood on the porch for another moment longer. A truck drove down the dirt road, kicking up a cloud of dust in its wake. It was then that I first glimpsed him, the beautiful man in a cowboy hat, driving a very masculine vintage Ford truck. Texas, I thought, How stereotypical. I chuckled slightly and joined my sister inside.

  After putting my things away I joined her and her husband for a home cooked dinner something I hadn’t had for a while now. It’s not that I didn’t know how to cook, I just didn’t like to. Besides, with so many restaurants in the city, why would I ever need to? Clint had come in from his long day of managing the ranch, covered in dust and dirt and sweat. He was cute in a boyish way, brown hair, brown eyes and a smattering of scruff along his jawline. He was the typical cowboy, tight jeans, cowboy hat and boots, a slight southern accent, and a charming demeanor than could drive any woman mad. I could see why Sylvia fell for him.

  “Hello, Darlin’,” he said as he pecked Sylvia on the lips. He gave me a friendly, but short hug, trying not to get me dirty. He knew how meticulous I could be. “Mel,” he said. “How was the trip?”

  “Not bad,” I said. “How’s life on the ranch?” I aimed the question towards both of them.

  “Great!” Clint said more enthusiastically than I expected him to. “Did you tell her the good news, Sylvie?”

  “What good news?” I turned to look at my sister, confused.

  “Well,” she said, looking down, wringing her hands. “I’m pregnant.”

  My jaw fell. “Sylvie, that’s great!” I rushed to hug her. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” She’d been trying for the past couple years.

  “I wanted it to be a surprise.” She gave her husband a pointed look. He rubbed the back of his neck and smiled. “Besides, I just found out a week ago.”

  “I’m gonna be an auntie.” I smiled. I had always liked kids, but never had any inkling to have any of my own. We spent the rest of the evening catching up, talking about her plans to turn one of the guest rooms upstairs into a nursery, and baby names. When I had finally exhausted myself of all things baby, I retired to my room, only to find that their Wi-Fi was agonizingly slow. How did they ever get anything done?

  Frustrated, I set my tablet aside to check my phone, my last connection to the modern world. But even that had spotty signal. I sighed and went to sleep. Only a week to go.

  * * * *

  It was on my second day that I met him, the dreamy cowboy from the truck. Sylvie had taken me in her truck on a tour of her property, showing me the fields and their cattle. We were at the edge of her property when we saw him mending a fence.

  “Good day, ladies,” the cowboy said, tipping his hat at us as we stepped out of the truck.

  “Hey, Dillon,” Sylvia said. “Still workin’ on that fence I see?”

  “Yup,” he said, straightening up. He took off his gloves and wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his forearm. “The cows keep bending it. It guess the grass is greener on your side.” He smiled one of those smiles that made your stomach flutter.

  He glanced in my direction and I could feel my cheeks redden. I was never shy around men, but I could feel my mind go blank, struggling for words. I tried to keep my eyes in appropriate places, but it was hard with his tight jeans and button down shirt half open, revealing a sliver of his tanned, toned chest.

  “This is my sister, Melanie.” Sylvie motioned at me with her hand.

  He held a hand out and I took it. “Dillon,” he said, giving my hand a strong shake.

  “Hi,” I replied awkwardly. He held onto my hand for a moment longer before releasing, his baby blues studying me a little too intensely.

  We let him get back to work, but not without a few extra glances back to admire the view.

  “Never seen a real man before, huh?” Sylvie asked, smiling.

  “Apparently not.” I smiled back. There were men in New York, for sure, but how many knew how to get their hands dirty and actually fix something? I knew it was silly, but something primal stirred inside of me, thinking about Dillon as he fixed the fence, slick with sweat, in those jeans, slightly dirty…

  My body grew hot at the memory. I hadn’t had this reaction in a while. Perhaps I was tired of the same old finance career men, or the broke baristas following their dreams, and w
hat I really needed was a man. A true, get your hands dirty, get things done, man. I spent a little longer in the shower that night, touching myself guiltily under the hot stream of water. My dreams were definitely sweet and filled with cowboys.

  * * * *

  I took my sister’s truck into town the next day to explore while she took it easy, feeling nauseous from the baby. It wasn’t a big town, oh boy was it not, consisting of a main street, and well, that was about it. A few streets of houses surrounded it, but that was about it. I playfully tried on some boots in the general store before having a BBQ lunch at a place called Ron’s. A place way too good to be sequestered out in the middle of nowhere. After buying some souvenirs and some groceries and things for my sister, I loaded the truck up and headed back to the ranch, the sun already heading toward the horizon.

  It was a thirty minute drive back to the ranch and when I was just about hallway back it started to rain. I didn’t even know it rained out here, given all the dust that seemed to stir up with every step. The dirt road grew into a slippery sludge and I eased it through dozens of puddles, trying my best to keep to the edges. I certainly never had to deal with this in the city. I had another pang of homesickness as I thought how easy it was to navigate the asphalt streets and subways. The rain came down harder, hitting the windshield with heavy splats. The wipers swept furiously from side to side. I could barely see anything ahead of me.

  That’s when disaster struck. Well, maybe not disaster for most people, but for me it was. I was easing my way through another puddle when all of a sudden I realized that the truck wasn’t moving anymore. I pressed the gas, but the wheels just spun in place.

  “Crap!” I shouted and hit the steering wheel. I looked around the cab and engaged the four wheel drive, but I was already stuck too deep in the mud, I couldn’t seem to get any traction. Granted, I had no idea what I was doing, and my panic didn’t help things. I was stuck. In the middle of nowhere in the pouring rain, the sky darkening. I took out my phone, but of course there was no signal. I sighed and leaned my head back against the headrest, closing my eyes, trying to think what to do next.

  Several minutes must have passed when I heard the faint rumbling of another truck approaching me from behind. I perked up and braved cracking the window open enough to stick a hand out to wave the passerby down in the hope they could help. My stomach sunk when I spied the truck. It wasn’t any truck, it was his truck. I could recognize the vintage make and color. How embarrassing, I thought. Having to rescue the helpless city girl. Another wave of embarrassment swept over me as I thought of last night and my dirty thoughts featuring the cowboy. How could I face him now?

  I had mixed feelings when his truck stopped and I saw him step out into the storm. He came around the back of my truck, while my heart beat frantically, and tapped on my window.

  He seemed surprised to see me. “You a little stuck there?” he said with a grin.

  “A little,” I said, trying to cover up my embarrassment with a smile. I tried to make it sound light, but inside me was just as stormy as it was outside. “Would it be too much trouble to ask for help?” I hated to ask, but I was desperate.

  “Not at all, mam,” he said. “Just give me a minute and I’ll get you right out of there.”

  “Great!” I watched as he went back to his truck and pulled it around in front of mine and got out again to attach a chain to the back. I tapped on the gas again as he pulled, but after moving a couple of inches, my truck seemed to settle in deeper into the mud. I let out an exasperated sigh. Great, leave it to me to entrench a truck so deep in the mud…

  After a few more tries, Dillon got out of his truck and came back to my window. He seemed amused by the whole thing. “Well I don’t know how you managed to wedge yourself in that puddle, little lady, but it may be beast to try again after the storm has passed. I’ll give you a ride back to your place if you want.”

  “Will it be ok to leave the truck here?”

  “Well, it’s not going anywhere, that’s for damn sure.”

  “All right,” I relented. It wouldn’t be so bad to leave it out here. Back in the city I would have never even thought of it, there would be nothing left of it when I returned. I gathered my things and the perishables and took a breath before stepping out into the onslaught of raindrops. I squealed like a little girl as I sprinted toward his truck.

  “That’s refreshing!” I exclaimed as I hurriedly shut the door. My clothes were soaked through and I started to shiver.

  “You could say that.” Dillon chuckle as he started to pull away.

  “Thank you so much,” I said, running my fingers through my wet hair before it knotted up. “It was nice of you to try. And to give me ride.”

  “I take it you’re not from around these parts.” It was more of a statement than a question.

  “Is it that obvious?”

  “A little.” He cast a glance in my direction, a grin spreading on his lips.

  I hoped he couldn’t see the flush forming on my face. Gosh he was good looking. A light sandalwood musk permeated the air in the cab mixed with more manly scents of oil and sweat. It was heady to say the least.

  “So, where you from?” he asked. He drove slowly, leaning forward, his eyes squinting slightly. The rain hadn’t let up, if anything it seemed to be coming down harder.

  “New York City.” I let a short laugh escape me. “I know, how cliché. City slicker in the country.”

  He laughed, a deep pleasant sound. “Never been there myself. Do you like it?”

  “Well enough. It took my sister a long time to convince me to leave all of its comforts.” I shivered again and he reached over to turn on the heat.

  “And how do you like it out here?”

  “It’s, well…” I glanced at him, afraid I would offend him.

  He looked at me expectantly, but with an amused look on his face. He must think I’m a city ditz.

  I finally settled for “Different.”

  He chuckled slightly again and the sound stirred something deep within me. I wanted to record the sound of his laugh so I could listen to it over and over again. It was surely going to replay in my dreams later. I was lusting hard for this cowboy I hardly even knew. I shifted in my seat as a familiar heat started to grow between my legs. I watched his capable strong hands shift gears and imagined them touching other places…

  “I’m sure I would say the same thing about your city. I’m a country boy myself, born and raised. I couldn’t imagine being around all that hustle and bustle. It seems exhausting.”

  “More so than cattle ranching and mending fences in the heat?” I teased him.

  “Much more so. Out here it’s simpler. There’s peace and quiet, how I like it.” He looked at me, his eyebrow raised.

  A loud crack sounded from the windshield, making us both jump, followed shortly by another, then another.

  “Crap!” Dillon said. “Hail.”

  I looked at him confused. “Does it usually hail out here?”

  He shrugged. “Only very occasionally around this time of year.”

  It was the beginning of November and although it was still warmer during the days, it grew quite chilly at night, something that surprised me. I thought it would be unbearably hot. I guess it was good I left the enclave of the city to expand my mind. Nothing good comes from assuming things.

  I shivered again. I hadn’t packed any appropriate clothes, thinking it would be warmer. My short sleeve shirt did barely anything to keep the cold at bay.

  “I hope you don’t mind taking shelter at my place for the time being,” Dillon said. “I don’t think I should risk going to your sister’s, not in this.”

  “It’ll be fine.” I gulped. What was I getting into? I was already almost to my breaking point with this man, would I be able to control my urges for so long? Gosh I hope so! I suddenly wished I had stayed back stranded in the truck…

  A minute later he pulled into a long driveway and soon a simple, single story house came
into view, dwarfed by the huge barn out back. Dillon pulled under a metal awning and smiled at me. “Home sweet home!” He got out and ran to his porch.

  I got out, dragging my bags along, braving the cold rain and hail. One struck me on the forehead and I cursed out loud. That would surely leave a mark.

  After unlocking the door and flipping on the light he turned back to me, looking abashed. “Where are my manners,” he said, offering to take my bags.

  He put the perishables in his refrigerator while I stood awkwardly in his entrance, taking it all in. It was manly to an almost excessive degree. Wood was everywhere, paneling to make it look like a log cabin, the floors, and his furniture almost looked handmade with rich brown leather cushions. A deer head hung over the slate fireplace.

  He turned to look at me from the kitchen, open to the rest of the room. A hallway led deeper into the house beyond. “Would you like some coffee?”

  I nodded.

  He turned to do his task, saying over his shoulder, “There’s a phone on the wall over there.” He motioned to the wall to his right. An antique looking rotary phone hung on the wall. “If you want to call your sister.”

  I did, mainly searching for a distraction. I told Sylvie where I was and what had happened. She was relieved I was all right and teased me about my luck and to behave with the handsome cowboy before hanging up. I shook my head, smiling. She was relentless.

  As the coffee maker worked, Dillon started to stack wood in the fireplace and lit it, poking at the flames until he was satisfied. “You can warm up over here if you want,” he said, kneeling in front of the fireplace. “I won’t bite, I promise.”

  I joined him, standing stiff as I warmed my hands. “Quite a night, huh?”

  “You can say that.” He smiled and looked up at me before standing up to his full height.

  I hadn’t realized how tall he was before. He could easily rest his chin on the top of my head. I took a deep breath when I noticed how his wet shirt clung to his frame. I need to get ahold of myself. I turned toward the warm flames again, desperate for a distraction.