All-American Cowboy

by Dylann Crush

  “Go away.” Pillow back over her face, Charlie tried to disappear under a cushion.

  “I told you. I’m not leaving.” The cushion sagged as Darby perched on the edge of the couch.

  “Leave me alone.”

  “I brought drugs.”

  Charlie peeked out from under the pillow at Darby’s outstretched hand. Two orange pills sat in her palm. Charlie’s pulse quickened. Ibuprofen, inches away. Relief might not be out of reach.

  “Coffee too.” Darby held the pills and cup out in front of her—a bribe.

  “I hate you.” Charlie struggled to sit up, grabbed the coffee, and downed the pills.

  “You love me, and we both know it. Now get up. We’ve got a transfer of title to stop and a hot city boy to run out of town.”

  Charlie slumped back against the cushions. “Forget it. It’s done. He’s already made arrangements with his dad. The Rose is as good as gone.”

  “Not yet. Didn’t you say he has to ride on the Rose’s Founder’s Day float to meet the requirement of the will?” Darby’s smile could have powered half the island of Manhattan.

  “Yeah.”

  “So all we have to do is keep him from the parade and he won’t get the title, right?”

  “Right.”

  “So, who does?”

  “I do. If Beck doesn’t ride on the float, everything goes to me.” She winced. “Damn. I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone that.”

  Darby wiggled her eyebrows.

  “Why don’t you look surprised? That was a secret. Nobody was supposed to know.”

  “Well, your buddy Dwight happened to take Mr. Hill out fishing yesterday. They got to talking and drinking, and before anyone knew it, Hill let it slip that you’re next in line. Of course, Dwight can’t keep a secret—everyone knows that. So if your New Yorker got delayed somehow—”

  “Darby, you’re a genius.” Charlie jerked upright. Her head seemed to split open like the watermelon her dad had chopped in half with an axe at the Chuckwagon Extravaganza.

  “That’s what I’ve been telling you for years. But no…Charlie’s the brains, Darby’s the sidekick.” She examined her perfectly manicured nails. “It’s so hard to be underestimated.”

  “All we have to do is keep Beck from getting on that float.”

  “Yep. And I’ve already started working on a plan. Let’s put our heads together and figure out the details.”

  Charlie put her hands over her eyes. “I can’t even think straight.”

  “Come on, you lush.” Darby swatted her thigh. “A warm shower’s just what you need. I’ll whip up a batch of my Grandma Hudson’s hangover cure while you’re hosing off.”

  If Darby was talking about Grandma Hudson, she must really be concerned. She only pulled out those concoctions as a last resort. Charlie struggled against the gravity pinning her to the couch. First, shower. Second, Grandma Hudson’s homemade cure. Third, if she was still standing by that point, they’d come up with a diabolical plan.

  “Fine. But go easy on the beet juice this time.” She made it to a standing position and swayed, grabbing on to the edge of the couch to keep from falling over.

  “You did a real number on yourself this time, girl.” Darby took her arm and propped her upright. “You should know better than to waste valuable calories on a man like that. You want to blow a diet, let’s spend an afternoon at the winery or try out one of the Pioneer Woman’s new dessert recipes. That French silk pie recipe of hers is better than sex and lasts a hell of a lot longer.”

  Charlie snorted. “I love you.” Darby was right. This would be the last time she’d drown her sorrows over a man. It had been so long since she’d had to, she’d forgotten it didn’t work anyway. Once the floor stopped tilting from side to side, she made it across the room to the bathroom. “Thanks. I don’t deserve you.”

  “Aw, honey, yes you do. You deserve it all…the man, white horse, and whatever else your tough little heart desires.”

  “No, no man.” She’d let Beck distract her from what was really important and learned her lesson. No man would ever come before her own success again.

  * * *

  The door of his office opened without a sound. Didn’t anyone knock anymore? Beck looked up from his desk as his father entered the room. Tan from the cruise, his tailored power suit in place, the epitome of the successful businessman back from two weeks of well-deserved respite. In contrast, Beck had already loosened his tie, hadn’t shaved in two days, and could almost feel his skin turning the color of silly putty from the lack of vitamin D.

  “Hey, Son. Managed to keep the business going while I was gone?” The elder Holiday crossed the plush carpeting to the desk and picked up a stack of papers.

  “Yeah. How was your trip? Looks like you got some sun.”

  “We had a great time. You look like shit though. Are those country folks getting to you? You trying to grow a beard?”

  “No, I’ve been swamped.” Typical. No “thanks for taking care of things while I was gone” or “you did a great job.” Truth was, he did probably look like hell. Flying back and forth to try to keep the Rose afloat and take care of Holiday Enterprises over the past few weeks had him working fourteen- to sixteen-hour days. Not that he’d been able to relax in what little downtime he’d had. Images of Charlie had tripped through his head. Her showing him how to two-step, covered in mud in Baby Back’s pen, wrapped in that damn star-spangled tablecloth.

  “I met some potential investors on the ship. I’m having Joyce set up a meeting next week, and I want you to join in. You’ve got one more trip to Texas, right? When do you get back?”

  “I’m headed down tomorrow. Back on Sunday.”

  “Good. And you’ve got that paperwork, right?”

  Beck held up the contract he’d signed that morning.

  His dad grinned, a smug, satisfied smile. “Make sure I get a copy of that before you leave today. We can put that place to rest by the end of next week at the latest. It’s time you focused your attention on the family business, not my old man’s pipe dream. Are you with me on this?” Holiday toyed with a Texas-shaped crystal paperweight Charlie had given Beck a few weeks into their relationship. She’d wanted to make sure he’d think of her when he flew back to New York from time to time to take care of things.

  “When you say ‘put that place to rest’…what do you mean exactly?” An icy coldness seeped into his chest. Ever since Charlie had walked out on him, insisting his dad had an ulterior motive, Beck had held out hope she was wrong.

  Holiday tossed the paperweight from one hand to the other. “I’ve got no interest in running a bar halfway across the country. I’ll shut it down and take it as a loss. Maybe sell it for the land. The broker knows someone handling a few other parcels down there and said some crazy Californian with ties to the area might be interested.”

  “But we made a deal.” Dammit. He’d seen his dad put aside friendships and cut people out of his life for the sake of the company. But his own father’s legacy? How could he sink that low?

  “Yeah, I told you I wouldn’t make any changes to the management. I never said anything about not closing the whole operation.”

  “Dad, the town relies on the Rose. You can’t shut it down.”

  “I can do whatever I want. It’s just a bar. A backwater bar in a backwater town.” The paperweight slid from his hand and crashed onto the desk. A chunk of the panhandle smashed into sparkly shards.

  Beck clenched his jaw and nodded, finally accepting the truth. Of course Holiday would think of it as just a bar. But as Charlie had been saying all along, it was so much more.

  He couldn’t let that happen. Charlie may have cut him out her life, but he couldn’t let hers get ripped out from under her. When he’d made the deal with his dad, he’d been assured things would stay the same. He couldn’t stand to be the cause of a
ll those people he’d come to know losing their jobs. Angelo. Shep. Dixie. All the waitstaff and event helpers. They depended on the place. The whole town relied on the Rose for the tourists it brought in, a regular hangout to hear some good music and catch up with family and friends. That place had become a home for them—for him.

  And his father was ready to ruin it all.

  Holiday cleared his throat. “Got time for lunch today? I’d like to touch base on that project up in Morris Park. I know you had some childish fixation with it, but I think it’s about time we found a better use for your talents.”

  The blood drained from Beck’s face, and a heaviness pressed down on his skull. This was his moment. Either the next thirty seconds would establish him as his father’s right-hand man, the son who would always remain under the scrutiny and control of an unrelenting dictator, or he’d turn his back on everything he’d ever wanted. The job, the success, the power, the money.

  And for what?

  A girl, a bar, and a couple hundred strangers who lived in a town bearing his last name?

  Beck took a deep breath and ripped the contract in two. He waited for the shock and disappointment to settle on his father’s face.

  Instead, Holiday laughed. “I’m two steps ahead of you, Son. Making a deal with you would have been the cheaper option. But I’ll get my hands on the Rambling Rose one way or another.”

  “How? If I’m not planning on giving it to you, how exactly do you plan to do that?”

  Holiday smirked. “Anyone bother to tell you what happens if you’re not on that float?”

  “Mr. Hill said a third party will inherit everything.”

  “That third party is your girlfriend. My crazy old man wrote her into his will. She’d get it all: the cash, the land, the bar.”

  Charlie? Did she know about that? If she did, why had she tried so hard to convince him to stay? “How do you know?”

  “You can buy all kinds of information if you offer enough cash.”

  Beck shook his head. “Charlie would never sell it to you. She cares too much about Holiday.”

  “True.” Holiday nodded. “But she won’t have to sell it. Sully should have had someone from a real law school write his will. Stu’s already found a loophole. When you don’t show for the parade, she’ll inherit the bar. Then I’ll file so many lawsuits that her head won’t stop spinning until long after her cash runs out.”

  Beck clenched his jaw together. How had he been so blind? There was only one thing to do now. “And what makes you so sure I won’t show for the parade?”

  “You really want to give all of this up?” Holiday motioned at the opulent furnishings surrounding them. “The corner office? Drinks with the mayor? You get on that float and you’re done here.”

  Beck’s heart battered the walls of his chest. He let his gaze rest on his father’s smug grin for a long moment. Then he stepped around him, making a beeline for the door.

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  He had to make this right. Charlie needed to hear about this new turn of events, and she needed to hear it from him. His decision made, Beck didn’t slow down. “I’m headed back to Holiday. Back where I belong.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  “So you’re clear on what we need you to do, right?” Charlie set a bottle of Coke on the bar in front of Dwight.

  He took a long swig and wiped the corner of his mouth with the ragged hem of his shirt. “Crystal. Pick him up at the airport and bring him straight to you at the Rose.”

  “How hard can it be, Charlie? Even Dwight can handle this.” Darby pulled her keys out of her purse. “Now come on, we’ve got to get down to the sheriff’s office so we can finish up the float.”

  Charlie sighed. She’d had second thoughts about sending Dwight on an errand of this magnitude. But what other choice did she have? Beck’s flight would land at the Austin airport in about two hours. He’d sent her a text telling her he needed to talk to her about something important. Wouldn’t take a genius to figure out what that was about. He probably wanted to give her a heads-up so she could be the one to break the news to the town. He’d made a deal with the devil on the Rose, and as soon as the parade was over, Beckett Holiday Jr. would come in and change everything.

  Beck was the one who’d be getting the surprise though. She and Darby were sending Dwight to fetch him, so they could get their hands on him first. If she couldn’t talk some sense into him, she vowed she’d sit on him if she had to, just to keep him from getting on the parade float tomorrow. No parade meant no Rose for Beck. If Dwight would come through, they’d all end up smelling like roses.

  She rested her hand on Dwight’s arm. “Call me if anything goes wrong, okay?”

  Darby smacked her gum. “Come on, now. We’re already running behind.”

  “Thanks, Dwight. I really appreciate it.” Charlie gave him an awkward half hug and called out to Shep. “We’re heading out. See you in a bit.”

  “Don’t worry about a thing. I’ll take care of the sorry sack of shit.” Dwight popped a toothpick in the corner of his mouth and lifted his eyebrows.

  Charlie’s stomach rolled over. Every part of her screamed that she’d regret putting her trust in Dwight. She hadn’t had much of a choice. She couldn’t bring one of her brothers in on her plan. They’d rat her out to her dad. Hopefully no one would find out until it was too late.

  She followed Darby out the back door, past the shiny new paint job. Sully would have been so disappointed. She was glad he’d passed on to a better place. Where the Lone Star always flowed and the Rose would always be pink. And if she had something to do with it, that would be the way things would stay.

  She just had to get through the next twenty-four hours. She’d made her bed and now had to lie in it. Even if that meant sleeping alone for the rest of her life.

  * * *

  The August heat hit him like walking straight into a barbecue pit. New York had its share of humidity, but this? This was an entirely new level of hell. Beck tapped his boot on the sidewalk, waiting for Dwight. He’d sent a text earlier saying he had to be in Austin for something and would pick him up for the ride back to Holiday. Beck could have politely declined but figured he could pump the guy for information on the ninety-mile drive.

  Dwight’s truck cut across two lanes of traffic and came to a stop next to him. Before he could toss his bag in the back, Dwight got out and walked around the truck.

  “Howdy, pardner. Glad to have you back.” Dwight clapped him on the back with one hand and reached for his suitcase with the other.

  Beck yanked open the door and climbed up onto the bench seat.

  Dwight hopped in and eased the truck away from the curb. “Thirsty? I brought you some water for the drive.”

  “No, thanks. Maybe in a little bit.” He’d hydrated on the plane, and he didn’t want to take the time to make any extra stops on the way. His top priority was getting to Charlie in time to fill her in on his plans.

  Once he’d made up his mind, he couldn’t wait to tell her. He’d almost caved and called her last night but wanted to talk to her in person. Being this close and still so far away was the worst kind of torture.

  “Ya have a nice flight?”

  “Yeah, sure. How have things been around here?” Making small talk with Dwight might literally make him lose his mind.

  “Swell. Been a little weird with Charlie not working at the Rose. Business is down a bit. Folks around there don’t like change, y’know.”

  Beck nodded. That little nugget of information had become abundantly clear over the past few months. If he’d only listened to Charlie in the first place. She’d told him not to replace their Lone Star with an out-of-town craft brew. She’d practically drowned him in mud when he accidentally entered a boar into the pig beauty pageant and ended up leaving her with the first pregnant mascot the Rose had e
ver had.

  Thank God she’d believed him when he’d told her the white paint had been a mistake. He’d heard enough about it from Shep. The locals were still staging sit-ins and distributing flyers all over town. Their tagline of “Don’t Drink Till It’s Pink” did have a bit of a ring to it. Once he made it through the festivities of the weekend, Charlie could paint the building whatever color she wanted. He’d even help. The thought sent a charge of anticipation through him. What would it take to get Dwight to drive faster?

  “Gotta stop for gas. You sure you don’t want anything?” The truck swerved off the highway, and Dwight slowed to a crawl.

  Beck leaned over and checked the gas gauge. “You’ve got half a tank. That’s more than enough.”

  “Gauge is broken. I was supposed to fix it this afternoon but had to run to Austin for a part instead.”

  Great, just great. At the rate they were going, it would be nighttime when they got there. The Founder’s Day festivities would be in full swing, and he probably wouldn’t get Charlie to himself until she was too tired to stand up straight.

  Dwight stopped next to a pay-at-the-pump spot, climbed down, and disappeared inside the convenience store without starting the gas pump. Beck hopped out and swiped his credit card, then inserted the nozzle into the tank. By the time the truck had filled up, Dwight still hadn’t come out of the store, so Beck headed inside. Dwight sat in a hard, laminated booth with a steaming cup of coffee in front of him, flipping through the pages of a magazine.

  “Dwight. What are you doing?”

  “I’m tired. Been helping out at the Rose, working overnights at the station. I needed some caffeine, y’know?” He wiped his hands over his eyes, emphasizing his words.

  “Give me the keys. I’ll drive.” Beck held out a hand, fully expecting Dwight to toss him the keys.

  Dwight bit his lip, then shot out of his seat and out the door. “Damn. Keys are in the truck.”

  Beck followed, catching up to him as he climbed down from the running board.

  “Yep. Keys are locked in the truck. Crap, wonder how long that’s going to take?” He rolled his eyes, and a flash of something crossed his face. Almost looked like smug relief.