Cowgirl Crazy (#2, Cowboy Way)

by Becky McGraw

  “I’m doing fine.” Twyla said around the knot in her throat that was her Twinkie. She walked to the mini-fridge and opened the door to take out the pint of milk she’d bought last night with her Twinkies. Unscrewing the cap she took a big swig, shock rocked her and she blew it right back out. Wiping her arm over her mouth, she spit a few more times while she tried to keep her Twinkies from reappearing. She took a deep gasping breath once she was sure that wasn’t going to happen.

  “Are you okay?” Heather asked walking over there.

  “Damn milk I bought last night is clabbered,” Twyla said gagging again. She took another deep breath and waited as her stomach rolled yet again.

  Heather walked to the tiny refrigerator and opened the door to stick her hand inside. “This thing probably hasn’t worked in ten years or so.”

  Twyla sighed heavily, then got a glass and filled it with water at the tiny sink beside the vanity. After a long swallow, she said, “Guess that’s what I get for two-hundred dollars a month furnished. I probably should’ve looked around more.”

  “Ya think?” Heather asked with a laugh, then her eyes took a tour over Twyla’s holey gray sweatpants, her now stained white t-shirt. Paired with her cowboy boots and haphazard braid, Twyla knew she had to look absurd. But she really didn’t give a shit.

  How she looked was exactly how she felt.

  Heather shook her head, and grinned. “Girlfriend you are a hot damn mess. You been in this place since yesterday?” Heather’s eyes took another tour around the room, and her face looked a little disgusted.

  “Where the hell else do you think I’ve been?” Twyla replied gruffly.

  “Didn’t you have a shooting lesson yesterday?”

  “Canceled it. Didn’t feel like going. I’m sure Randy didn’t mind, he thinks I’m a stripper.” Twyla walked back to the loveseat and sat down to rest her head in her hands.

  “Why would he think you’re a stripper?” Heather asked in amazement.

  “Because Ryan told him I was a stripper.”

  “Why the hell would he do that? He knows you’re not a stripper. He saw you dance!” Heather said angrily. “What was he doing out at the barn anyway?”

  “He followed me evidently, saw me at my lesson with Randy and decided there was something going on that needed his interference.”

  Twyla heard her gasp. “That sonofabitch was jealous.”

  “Not jealous. He was standing in for my obsessively over-protective older brother, which he thinks is his role when Zack isn’t around. He ran off Randy just like Zack has done with any other man I was interested in since I hit puberty.”

  “Honey, I don’t know where you grew up, but where I’m from brothers don’t look at their sister the way Ryan Easter looks at you. And they surely don’t—”

  “Leave it, Heather!” Twyla shouted, shooting up to her feet. “I really don’t want to talk about it.” She pushed Heather toward the door. “And you need to leave. You don’t want to be late for your gig.” And Twyla didn’t know how much more of her friend’s mothering she could take before she broke down. The last thing she wanted to do was that. If she broke, it would be when she was alone. And the odds were as soon as she flipped that deadbolt, that is exactly what was going to happen.

  Heather pushed back, before Twyla could get her over the threshold and spun to face her. “You need to get out and do something. Drowning yourself in junk food isn’t going to help a damned thing. I’ve got a gig at a very nice bar in town. Get your ass dressed and you’re going with me.”

  “I started and I don’t feel like it,” Twyla replied with a frustrated breath.

  Heather’s chin cocked up and she crossed her arms over her chest. “Well, if you don’t want me to call big brother and give him a report on your situation, you’ll get dressed so we can go. Now hop to it. I’m going to be late.”

  “Ryan called again?” Twyla asked and dammit if her heart didn’t do a little dance in her chest. Mentally, she slapped it and it stilled.

  “Yeah he called, and wants a report. It’s the last time I’ll be giving him one though. I told him if he’s that damned concerned, he needs to come and check on you himself.”

  A little satisfaction flowed through her. “He was worried about me?”

  “Sounded pretty damned worried to me, and not in a brotherly kind of way either.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I think he’s worried that his little trick with Randy didn’t stick, and that you might be dating him.”

  Twyla snorted. “Fat chance of that. I don’t think he’s the type of man to date strippers.”

  “You’re not a stripper,” Heather reminded.

  Twyla sighed. “He thinks I am. That’s all that matters.”

  “No, what matters is you found out what kind of man he is before you got involved with him. Anyone who judges you like that without cause, based on someone else’s off-the-cuff words doesn’t deserve you. And a man who sleeps with you then takes off when you get a little pissy with him, instead of sticking around to duke it out doesn’t deserve you either.”

  Heather made sense, but Twyla’s heart still wasn’t convinced. “Where’s your gig?”

  “The Red Rooster Saloon,” Heather replied. “My agent got me the gig. It’s downtown in the hob knob section. That’s why I’m dressed like this. Spent five hundred bucks on this outfit,” she said with a shrug.

  “Oh my God, Heather,” Twyla said breathless. “Five hundred bucks?”

  “I figured once they see how great I am, they’ll call me again, so I can use it again later.”

  Heather grinned widely, but Twyla saw the doubt in her eyes. Her friend had been trying to break into the music business, since she left the rodeo. Road block after road block had prevented that. But Heather was determined. And she was damned good. She deserved a break. She also deserved Twyla’s support. “I’ll be ready in twenty minutes.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Twyla smoothed her blue jean skirt then yanked the hem down a little more, as she walked back to the table with her beer in her hand. Heather was up on stage talking to the backup guitarist and the drummer, who were up there with her. She looked like a star up there with the lights reflecting off of the rhinestones on her shirt and hat. Twyla hoped something broke loose soon for her on the career her friend had been working so hard to achieve for so long. Even when she rode rodeo, Heather was singing at every open mic night she could find at every stop. When they finished riding, she was running for her truck to go sing somewhere.

  From her lackluster performance in rodeo, it was obvious her passions laid elsewhere. Dancing was a little better for her, but it too was just a device to get her where she wanted to be. Up on that stage singing. Twyla had gone to watch her several times after races. That’s how they’d become friends. The rest of the barrel racers had other things to do, or were jealous of her, but Twyla was in awe of her talent.

  It was still early and a Monday, so the crowd was thin. Twyla had her choice of tables up by the stage. She took one at the center, so she had a good view and sat down. She crossed her legs then took a long sip of what would probably not be her only beer. She was glad Heather had made her come now. With a shower and getting fixed up to come, she felt about fifty-percent better than she had in that dreary apartment. She imagined with another couple of beers that would be up to seventy-five percent. Or she hoped anyway.

  She raised her bottle to take another sip of her beer, but stopped when someone sat down in the chair across the table from her. A tall, handsome cowboy in a black hat and black shirt with a very sexy grin. He looked quite a bit older than her, but he was extremely good looking. Maybe she needed an older man who wasn’t so immature he couldn’t accept she could make her own choices, and let her make them. Someone who wouldn’t play childish games with her for ten years while they kept her on the hook chasing them. Someone who had no desire to be her brother, or anything like him.

  “Hi, pretty lady,” the cowbo
y said sticking his hand out to her. “I just wanted to say hello to you before the band starts up and it’s too loud to do that. I’d have kicked myself in the butt all the way home if I didn’t. I’m Jared.”

  Twyla’s eyes fell to his other hand, which rested on the table. No wedding ring, or ridge from one. He looked harmless, and was well dressed. One thing was for sure, unless she opened up to another man, she’d never find that someone. Her eyes swung back up to his and she smiled, as she sat her bottle down, wiped her hand on her skirt, then took his hand. “I’m Twyla. Nice to meet you, Jared.”

  His eyes fell on her beer. “I’d ask if I could buy you a beer, but it looks like you’re set for now. Can I sit here and wait until you’re ready for one?” he asked hopefully.

  Damn this man was smooth, she thought, as she pulled her hand from his. “Tables aren’t reserved,” she replied with a laugh and eased back in her chair. “What brings you here?”

  He pointed at the stage. “I want to hear that little lady sing. I’ve heard good things about her, and wanted to hear for myself.”

  Twyla gasped. “Really?”

  He glanced at her and smiled. “Yeah, I’m an agent. I can do big things for her, if she’s ready to ditch the schmuck she’s with.”

  “She’s been with him a long time.”

  “You know Heather?” he asked curiously, turning to lean in closer.

  “She’s a friend.”

  “Well, if you’re her friend, you’ll tell her what’s holding her back is her agent. If she’s been with Lester that long, and this place is the best he can do for her, then she needs to go agent shopping, and I’m her man.”

  Twyla got this tickling sensation at the back of her neck, but had no idea what that was about. “How’d you hear about Heather?”

  “I went to the Crazy Cowgirl awhile back and saw her dance. Leon told me she’s a singer too, so I decided to check her out.” He shrugged. “Heard she had a gig here tonight.”

  “You know Leon?” Twyla asked picking up her beer, because that tickling sensation turned into a full blown buzz that zipped down her spine. She’d never seen this guy at the Cowgirl, but then again she hadn’t been there long. And she tried her best not to notice men there anyway. If she didn’t make eye contact, she found she didn’t get so grossed out with them staring at her. Jared said it was a while back, so maybe it was before she started there. And he knew Leon. Maybe he wasn’t some crazy stalker who had latched onto Heather at the bar. He didn’t appear to be that type.

  His eyes swung back to Twyla, and he smiled as his eyes took a quick tour of her breasts, before he volleyed, “Question is, how do you know him?”

  Twyla wasn’t about to tell him she was a dancer there. Look how that knowledge had turned out with Randy. And this man knew what the Cowgirl was. “Um, through Heather.”

  “Well, Leon and I go way back. We used to own a bar together before I got into talent management.” When his eyes met Heather’s up on stage and she waved, Twyla felt a little better. She relaxed and picked up her beer, chastising herself for being so paranoid. She was going to sit here and drink her beer, let this man buy her another, and enjoy her night.

  Maybe that would help her forget that payphone she’d seen in the hall near the bathroom, the one that had called to her on the way in to pick it up and call Ryan Easter. The one at the Crazy Cowgirl was out of service, so she hadn’t been tempted at work. But damn she was tempted here, and she doubted it was broken. This place was too upscale for that to happen.

  It was Monday, so he was probably on his way to the next venue anyway. Out in the boonies where cell service was sketchy. At least that’s what she was telling herself so she didn’t run over there to call. She was not going to call him, she thought with determination as she lifted her beer and downed it. When she sat the bottle on the table, Jared was watching her. “You ready for another one?”

  Twyla nodded and he smiled then pushed up to stand. “Be right back.”

  She watched Jared walk toward the bar, then her gaze swung back to the stage as Heather introduced herself. Her voice shook a little, and Twyla recognized it was nerves causing the shake in her usually confident friend’s tone. She also noticed Heather’s eyes were following Jared across the bar too as she spoke, and she wasn’t smiling now. But with a nod to the others on stage, she strummed her acoustic guitar then sang the first note of her first song.

  Twyla got caught up in the magical, pitch perfect sound of the sad country ballad and sighed, resting her chin on the heel of her palm. Jared came back and slid a beer across the table to her as he sat down. He relaxed back with his own and before long he seemed as wrapped up in the music as Twyla was. That was a good thing, she thought. Maybe he would help Heather. Two songs later, Twyla was convinced he was sold. Jared was leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, seeming to be totally into Heather.

  That’s why it surprised her when he sat up and turned toward her. “I’ve seen all I need to see. She’s definitely a star. I have another act to go see tonight. You want to ride with me? I can drop you back here later? I need to talk to Heather anyway,” he asked with that sexy grin.

  Twyla gnawed her lower lip and her hand tightened on her half full beer bottle. For some reason the beer was going straight to her head tonight, and she felt loose as a goose. But she had enough sense left to know if she turned this man down, knowing he held Heather’s future in his palm, he would probably get pissed and not help her. She could probably help grease him up to offer to help Heather anyway. She owed her friend a lot for helping her. Maybe she could return the favor now.

  “Sure, why not?” fell out of her strangely numb lips. Twyla got to her feet and wobbled a little, but Jared flew around the table to put his hand on her arm to steady her.

  “Whoa there, cowgirl. No more beer for you,” he said with a laugh.

  Cowgirl. That’s what Ryan called her. Her heart jerked in her chest, but she mentally slapped it, and stiffened her shoulders to walk with Jared to the front door of the bar.

  ***

  Ryan watched the miles pass as he drove toward Cheyenne, the farthest stop on the tour this year. Not even a hundred miles into the drive from Mesa, he had a long road trip ahead of him. He settled in and wandered off into his thoughts, which hadn’t left Twyla at all. Not even when the bronc he drew in that last round kicked his ass.

  Mostly because Heather hadn’t called and left a message like she said she would.

  He blamed her for him getting his ass kicked. And Twyla who still refused to call him. He just wasn’t paying attention, wasn’t able to focus on anything else. Shifting in his seat to get more comfortable, Ryan held his arm against his side to cushion his bruised ribs. They were taped, and he knew in a few days they’d feel better. But right now? He felt just like he’d been mule-kicked in the ribs, which isn’t far off from what actually happened.

  Tonight, he ended up fourth, completely out of the money. Ryan couldn’t expect to keep that up and be in the finals. This year would be a bust if he wasn’t careful, in more ways than one.

  Things just weren’t right in his world anymore. Twyla had always been with them. Always around. His head cheerleader wasn’t there at the rail waving her arms and egging him on to the buzzer. Twyla was irritating at times, but she had been a fixture in his life for a long time. Ryan had taken it for granted that she would always be around to irritate him, to push him. Laugh at him, and tease him to the point of madness with her damned antics to get his attention.

  She definitely had his attention now, the kind she’d been looking for all along, and she didn’t want it. What he knew all along would eventually happen between them, had happened, and the morning after she’d kicked him out. Now, she wasn’t taking his call. Was avoiding him.

  Like he’d done to plenty of bunnies himself.

  Ryan couldn’t say he liked the role reversal. Not one bit.

  He was beginning to think he was Twyla’s sacrificial bunny to get the worrisome pro
blem of her virginity behind her. Now, the path was clear for her to date other men, be with other men, without having to explain herself. There was only one problem in her thinking.

  They had had unprotected sex, and she could very well be pregnant with his child right now, while she was dating those other men. That wasn’t going to work at all.

  He was going to tell her that, if he ever got ahold of her. And a helluva lot more.

  Ryan banged his fist against the steering wheel again. As soon as this Cheyenne gig was over, he was heading straight to Dallas. But that was another fricking six days, almost five now. As bad as he was riding these days, he should just bow out and go now. The writing was on the wall as to where he would finish this year. He could probably use this latest injury as an excuse. The doctor had offered him one, but he had refused. All it would take is a phone call probably.

  He needed Twyla back with him now. With them, he corrected. With him and Zack. So they could watch out for her. Yeah that was it. It wasn’t because missing her was driving him fucking insane. Or because his good luck had left with her. Or that she was probably fucking that damned slick cowboy.

  Who the hell was he kidding? It was all those reasons, and plenty more.

  Ryan’s hand tightened on the steering wheel. But he didn’t need to go off half-cocked. He needed to think things through, before he turned his truck around. What he would say to her to make her change her mind? If he tossed in the towel for the year, what would he tell Zack that wouldn’t give away everything? He knew his friend was going to grill him about it. Zack was already asking about his bad attitude and poor riding. His friend who knew him better than anyone, knew something was up, but Ryan had managed to dance around telling him for now. He didn’t want to open that can of worms if he didn’t have to.

  He flicked on the radio, hoping it would distract him, but wouldn’t you know that damned song You’re Gonna Miss Me When I’m Gone would be playing? There was that cosmic DJ again, probably sitting on the other end of those radio waves laughing his ass off at Ryan. The next song snapped his patience in two, She Won’t Be Lonely Long. With a growl, Ryan flicked off the radio, but the tune still echoed through his head, like the thought echoed through his soul.