Big Girls & Bad Boys: 8 Scorching Hot BBW Alpha Male Romance Novellas Box Set

by D. H. Cameron

  “Brenda?” I heard as the bus pulled away from the curb in front of the building that appeared to be the bus station as well as the post office and library too. I turned but didn’t see anyone at first. Then a man leaned out of the Ford pickup across the street and waved. He was about fifty, clean shaven with skin like leather. He wore a tan cowboy hat. “Brenda Wright?” he called again.

  “Um, yes,” I called back as I looked both ways and then crossed the street. It felt a bit foolish as there wasn’t a car in sight. The man got out and threw his hand at me after taking off his big cowboy hat.

  “I’m Earl,” he said. I reached out, took his dry, calloused hand and shook it. God, I thought felt out of place in Seattle. Earl was in jeans, boots and a western shirt under a leather vest. His jeans and boots were dusty and his truck looked as if it hadn’t been washed in a year. The excited dog in the back wagged its tail as it jumped from the tool box to the bale of hay and back again, panting with its tongue lolling out.

  “I’m Brenda. Nice to meet you,” I replied. I was in a beige pencil skirt, brown leather heels and yellow floral blouse under a black wool coat. My pale skin and flame red hair looked the part in the Pacific Northwest but in Wyoming, I felt severely out of place. I could already feel my freckled nose burning in the bright sun.

  “This is Cecil,” Earl told me as he scratched the eager black and white Australian Shepard prancing on the tool box in the back of the truck behind the ears.

  “Hi, Cecil,” I said and the dog barked happily.

  “Here let me get your bags,” Earl offered. He grabbed the two roller bags I had with me and tossed them into the dirty bed of the pickup unceremoniously. At least he was gentler with the bags than the airline baggage handlers were. Cecil jumped from the tool box and went to sniff my suitcases. Once satisfied, he took his position on the tool box again, his tail wagging and tongue lolling.

  “So, is the ranch far?” I asked.

  “No not far,” Earl told me.

  “Good, I’m tired,” I replied.

  “About seventy miles or so,” he added and left me standing along the bed of his truck. What? Seventy miles? Earl climbed in and then before he closed his door he said, “Don’t doddle. We don’t want to miss dinner.” Then he fired up the truck and closed his door. I hurried around the back of the pickup to join him.

  “Dinner? It’s only three o’clock,” I asked once I was inside. I looked for a seatbelt but couldn’t find one.

  “Took the seatbelts out. They only get in the way. It’s mostly gravel road. Can’t go much faster than about fifty,” Earl told me and the old pickup lurched ahead. What had I gotten myself into? If I had someplace else to go, I’d have demanded Earl stop the truck and let me out but there wasn’t even a hotel in McHenry. There were, however two bars and two tractor dealers.

  We drove down the main street, honestly the only proper street in town, and then turned down a road that became gravel immediately. Cecil began barking at nothing and then would bite the air as it rushed past the cab of the pickup before barking again. Cecil appeared to enjoy riding on top of the tool box that sat across the truck’s bed just behind the rear window. That made one of us that was enjoying the ride. Earl didn’t say a word as we drove and after about ten minutes, I figured I’d make an attempt to engage him in conversation.

  “So, do you like being a cowboy?” I asked and regretted it immediately. Maybe the question didn’t sound as dumb to Earl as it did to me. Earl looked at me and frowned.

  “Yep,” was all he said. I nodded as he turned back to the road. At least he answered.

  “Um...are you married?” I asked. Again, Earl looked at me, frowned again and then answered.

  “Nope,” he told me. This wasn’t going well. I gave up and leaned against the window looking at the endless, empty land. Was it all like this? Where were the trees? I saw a few here and there but not like back home. For almost two hours, we rode down the bumpy gravel road, Cecil barking and biting the air and Earl staring out the windshield, only moving to stuff some chewing tobacco into his mouth and then spit into a coffee cup.

  When we finally arrived at the ranch, it wasn’t what I’d imagined. No green pastures, no frolicking horses, no stately ranch house. Instead, we drove under a metal sign with the same “V” with a line through it fashioned out of iron bars and down another dirt road until a few squat buildings came into view. Now I could see some cattle grazing on the brown grass beyond. Really, what had I gotten myself into? Earl pulled up to a small building with a pitched roof, peeling white paint and old divided windows.

  “Here we are,” Earl said finally breaking the silence.

  “What’s this?” I asked him.

  “Your office and bunk,” he told me and then added as he climbed from the cab of the pickup, “C’mon, I’ll show you.” He closed the door and scratched behind Cecil’s ears. My bunk? I climbed out and followed him up the steps leading to the small building’s door. He opened it up and then held the door as I walked in. It wasn’t much. A desk and some old wooden file cabinets sat in the front room with a pair of doors on the back wall.

  “What’s back there?” I asked.

  “Bedroom and bath. All the comforts of home. One of the boys will bring you wood for the stove. Still gets cold at night,” Earl said. I wandered over and opened the doors finding a bathroom that was clean with an old claw foot tub that had a metal rod from which hung a shower curtain, a pedestal sink and a toilet with the tank mounted to the wall near the ceiling with a brass pipe leading to the bowl. There was a mirror behind the sink and the floor was tile.

  The bedroom was painted a robin’s egg blue with an old wooden dresser, matching armoire and mirror and a small bed against the opposite wall. The bed had an old metal headboard and footboard painted white, a thick down comforter and a couple of pillows. The floor, like that of the office, was wood. It wasn’t fancy but it was nice and looked clean. “So this is where I’ll live?” I asked.

  “Yep. Work too. Pays fifteen hundred dollars a month plus room and board,” Earl told me. Huh?

  “Fifteen hundred dollars?” I asked incredulously. I didn’t bother to ask about the pay before I left. I was desperate.

  “You’ll likely save most of it. Not much to spend it on around here. Food’s good, bed’s comfortable and you get weekends off. Mostly anyway,” Earl said. Mostly? I sighed and looked around. I didn’t have much choice. I’d given up my apartment and I couldn’t afford to get another without a job. I guess Earl was right. I wasn’t going to be spending my pay around here. I could do this for a little while until I’d built up a little nest egg.

  “So where’s the computer?” I asked.

  “No computer,” he replied. I pulled my phone out of my pocket but before I had a chance to look at it, Earl shook his head.

  “No service out here,” he said.

  “Do you have internet?” I asked but I think I already knew the answer.

  “Not hardly,” Earl replied, almost amused at my question. I sighed again. I felt like that pickup was really a time machine. It was the 1950’s out here, maybe the 1930’s. “There’s the phone on the desk and there’s another in the mess hall. C’mon, I’ll show you the kitchen. The boys are excited about having a new cook,” Earl told me. I took two steps towards the front door but that stopped me dead in my tracks.

  “New cook?” I asked pointedly.

  “Yep, that’s part of the job. Breakfast is at five a.m., dinner at six in the evening. Boy’s mostly don’t eat lunch so you’ll have to make a mess a food,” Earl said.

  “Wait! So you expect me to run your ranch without a computer or internet or cell coverage? I have to live in this tiny house a million miles from nowhere? And now you want me to cook?” I demanded. Earl frowned. He wasn’t necessarily displeased. That seemed to be his default expression.

  “That’s about right,” he said as if nothing seemed out of the ordinary to him. It probably didn’t. No, I couldn’t do this. This was too mu
ch. But as soon as I came to that conclusion, I remembered I didn’t have much choice. I should have cleared this all up before I gave up my apartment and spent the last of my savings on a plane ticket to Wyoming. Damn!

  “Fine, I’ll do it but not for fifteen hundred a month and not without a computer or internet. I’ll modernize your little operation out here and bring you into the at least the late twentieth century. I’ll cook the meals too. But it’s going to cost you. Two thousand a month is the least I’ll take,” I demanded. If I had to do this, I was going to do it right. Earl just stared at me and I couldn’t read him. Then he turned and walked out to the truck, grabbed my bags and brought them inside, walking past me and set them in the bedroom.

  “Deal,” he told me and offered his hand. Great! I was kind of hoping he’d refuse my offer and take me back to McHenry. I took his hand and shook it.

  “Deal,” I said fully expecting to regret it sooner rather than later. But I chose to see this as a challenge. A challenge to my hard-earned skills and experience and a challenge for myself. Who knows? Maybe I’d surprise myself and actually enjoy the experience. Yeah, right!

  “You’ve got a little bit of fire in you,” Earl told me, a smile crossing his face for the first time. I got the impression he’d been sizing me up. I guess I couldn’t blame him. I was so far out of me element here in my heels, skirt and blouse. He probably thought I’d never make it this far but maybe, just maybe, I’d earned a little respect by demanding more money. “You’ve got other clothes, right?” he asked me.

  “Um, what do you mean?” I wondered.

  “You’ve got pants and some boots?” he clarified.

  “Yoga pants and some walking shoes,” I told him.

  “Are those like jeans and boots?” he asked.

  “No,” I said.

  “Tomorrow, take one of the pickups and head to town. The general store has some clothing. You’ll need to get some supplies, food stocks, office supplies, whatever you need, and maybe you can get that fancy phone of yours to work. Deb can help you order a computer and if you can figure out how to get internet out here, be my guest,” Earl told me.

  “Who’s Deb?” I asked.

  “She runs the general store. You’ll like her. The boys have been rotating kitchen duty and they can do it for another day or two while you settle in.” Earl said. I wondered why he thought I’d like Deb? In any case, I had a few questions.

  “What do they like to eat? Is there a budget?” I asked Earl.

  “They like anything that they don’t have to cook themselves. They work hard so feed them well. As for the budget, how would I know? You’re the ranch manager, not me,” Earl said and winked at me. I smiled, for the first time in days I think.

  “OK, I’ll figure it out,” I replied.

  “Good girl,” Earl said and then told me that dinner was in about half an hour. He promised to show me around after we ate and I met the boys. In the meantime, he left me alone and I immediately went to the bathroom, stripped nude and climbed into the shower. The water was hot, something I was afraid might not be the case, and it felt wonderful. I felt better about my situation but I was still wondering if I’d made the right decision. I guess I’d see soon enough.

  >>O<<

  Earl came to get me at six. I wore black yoga pants and a matching jacket with a pink tank underneath and my walking shoes. I usually didn’t wear that kind of stuff except at home but I was glad I did. The ground was a fine dust and though they were easy enough to avoid, there were piles of cow dung here and there. I saw the value of boots and jeans. Earl led me to the building across the way that served as the kitchen and mess hall and showed me inside.

  As we entered, the men seated were talking loud and laughing. Their language was colorful to say the least. There were a dozen or so men seated at the two long tables in the hall with a concrete floor and wooden walls. Then they saw me. The room went quiet and the men all turned to regard me. I could see the shock in their eyes as a woman appeared in their midst for probably the first time in a very long time.

  “Boys, this is Brenda. She’s running the office and the kitchen from here on out. She’s from the city so be nice,” Earl told them.

  “You mean we don’t have to cook anymore?” one of the cowboys shouted.

  “Nope,” was Earl’s reply and the men all cheered in mock excitement. Earl showed me to a seat at the end of one of the tables and Earl took the seat at the head of the table next to me. I could feel the men’s eyes on me the whole way. It didn’t make me feel good. I felt like a piece of meat surrounded by hungry lions. That assessment probably wasn’t too far off the mark.

  The man next to me might have been the exception. He was older, in his sixties maybe, thin with a big gray handlebar mustache. He offered me his hand and I took it.

  “I’m Stan. Don’t let these animals scare you. They don’t see too many pretty girls,” he explained.

  “Thanks!” I said as much for the assurance as the offhand compliment.

  “I hope you like tuna fish,” he told me.

  “What?” I replied. The other men were slowly beginning to get used to the fact there was a woman in the room, returning to their boisterous, if slightly less colorful, conversation. That didn’t stop some of them from glancing my way now and then.

  “That’s likely what we’re eating...again,” Stan told me. I looked at Earl and he nodded. As if on cue, another man walked out of the kitchen with a tray of tuna sandwiches on white bread. He tossed them on the table and the other cowboys groaned in disapproval.

  “You suck, Clancy!” one of them said.

  “Then do the cooking, you stupid cocksu...,” Clancy, began to say until he saw me. “Sorry, ma’am,” he said to me,” when he got over his shock at seeing me there.

  “It’s OK. I’ve heard it before,” I told him.

  “This is Brenda. She’s the new office manager and cook,” Earl told him.

  “Oh, thank God,” Clancy said seeming genuinely relieved. The other men had reluctantly taken a sandwich or three from the stack, their hunger evidently outstripping their obvious contempt for tuna fish.

  “I promise, I won’t make tuna,” I announced as I leaned over and grabbed my own sandwich. It was made with cheap white bread and the tuna was almost gray in color, mixed with mayonnaise and not much else. The men all hooted and howled in approval.

  “If I never see another tuna fish sandwich, it’ll be too soon,” the tall cowboy at the far end of the table said bringing nods of agreement from the others. I took a bite of my sandwich and discovered why the boys disliked them so much.

  “You know, your cooking ain’t much better, Gus!” Clancy replied. The men gathered around the tables seemed to agree with Clancy.

  “So, Brenda, what will you be cooking for us?” Stan asked me. He seemed to be somewhat of a leader among the men but whether it was official or just a status earned with age and experience, I wasn’t sure.

  “I don’t know. I just found out I was the cook a half hour ago,” I said and looked at Earl meaningfully. He barely shrugged. Nothing seemed to excite or faze the man. “What does everyone like to eat?” I asked. That brought an explosion of suggestions as men shouted out their favorites all at once. I heard beef stew, biscuits and gravy, pizza and more. Stan, however, quieted the men.

  “Look, you bunch of monkeys, one at a time,” he said as he pulled a notepad from his shirt pocket and a stubby pencil that looked as if it had been whittled to a point with a knife. As we all choked down the sandwiches, Stan wrote down each man’s request in turn. Once the last man had spoken, Stan added his own favorite. “I haven’t had decent meatloaf and mashed taters smothered in gravy in months,” he said as he handed the list to me.

  But before I could read it, Earl snatched it from me and after pulling a pen from his shirt pocket, he scrawled something at the end of the list. He then handed it back to me. “I dearly love peach cobbler,” he told me and winked. I looked at him funny but then smiled. Mayb
e Earl wasn’t as gruff as I’d assumed.

  All the men had quieted and they looked at me expectantly. I looked over the list. Nothing complicated. The list was all comfort food mixed with some breakfast staples. I could make what they wanted but the question was whether or not I could get the ingredients to make the dishes from. Earl seemed to read my mind.

  “Deb can get everything you need. Our past cook made all that and more,” he assured me.

  “What happened to your old cook?” I asked. I assumed she left like I planned to do once I had built up a little money to allow me to do so. I was wrong.

  “Ol’ Juan retired last year. He did the books too. We miss him dearly, or rather we miss what he used to do around here. Juan was a bit of a curmudgeon,” Stan told me. That made me laugh. Why did I feel like these men needed a mother and I was her? I suppose I could indulge the cowboys and ranch hands while I was here. But part of me felt bad for them. They obviously lived a hard life out here in the middle of nowhere. I had no idea there were people living lives like this.

  Suddenly, the door to the mess hall burst open and all the men turned to see who had arrived. I turned myself and in walked a man that just didn’t fit in here, or maybe he fit in too well. He was trim with broad shoulders and tall too. He wore a scruffy brown beard and a black cowboy hat. He was in clean jeans that hugged his hips tightly and a fancy black western shirt. It was his eyes, though, that grabbed my attention. They were an icy blue, narrowed and hard.

  “I’m back, boys!” he announced and the men stood to greet him as if he was the returning hero from some great quest. I looked at Earl, the only man who hadn’t stood to greet the new arrival besides Stan.

  “He’s been away. Avery’s sister up in Butte had a baby,” Earl said. Stan shook his head as the man, Avery, held court with the other cowboys and ranch hands. Stan turned and waited until the other men and had a chance to greet Avery.