Cowboy Strong (Cowboy Up Book 5)

by Allison Merritt

  She grabbed a warm bottle of Lipton tea from the counter and cracked it open. “We need a fridge.” She crossed her arms over the fluffy sweatshirt.

  They had one, but…

  “We need power to it,” she said. “If we get eggs, a dairy cow… What about leftovers, like if we make a big pot of stew or something? The garden stuff… And wouldn’t it be nice to have a cold drink now and then? Ice? If we butcher a steer, we’ve gotta either make it all into jerky or wait ‘til the dead of winter so it can freeze in the barn. Who has some solar panels we can swipe?”

  “Whoa. Whoa. I worked for Robinson Solar those summers in high school, remember? Talked Dad into putting solar on the barn because I got it at cost, but he wouldn’t spring for battery backup. He just sold what he produced back into the grid. He figured as rare as power outages are around here, we could get by with the generator and the couple batteries it charges.” Some irony there, considering they were probably in the middle of the longest power outage ever.

  “What does that mean? We can run a fridge in the barn during the day?”

  “It means we don’t need solar panels—just a bunch of batteries.” They had a few up at his grandpa’s hunting cabin, maybe enough to keep the fridge going except for those super cloudy, short days during the winter. “We can figure that out. First things first, though. Tomorrow we rescue chickens and hopefully a dairy cow and calf. We’ll have to come up with a chicken coop eventually but for now they can nest in the barn at night. And we’ll have to build some sort of milking stall for the cow probably. You ever do that? Milk a cow?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “I think. On a field trip. The neighbors had a goat they milked to feed their 4-H lambs. I milked her a few times when they were out of town.”

  “We can put off milking her for awhile I think, as long as the calf is around to keep her producing.”

  “Let’s play a game.” She set down her bottle of not-iced tea.

  He gave her the ole brow-jump. “What game? Truth or dare?”

  “Ha. Not on your life.” She brushed past him, down the hall to the built-in shelves where Mom kept the board games.

  “Okay…” Sounded like she had something in mind. “You choose tonight, and tomorrow I get to pick.”

  “Again, ha! Don’t get any big ideas about poker. Especially strip poker.” When she came back to the kitchen, she had Battleship in her hands.

  “You do realize I’m the number one player in the world? You probably don’t know this but I’m the unpublished Guinness Book record holder in Battleship.”

  She shrugged, opened the box and took the red console. “Doubtful, but you can’t beat me anyway. I took Olympic gold in Battleship. Team and individual.”

  “Team?” As if. Whatever, he’d show her. “What are we betting?” Money didn’t seem much of a commodity anymore.

  She curled a lip. “Chores?”

  Screw that. “Chores are for chumps.” He turned to the cabinet above the fridge. Yep, that’s what he’d been looking for. He grabbed the bottles and showed them to her. “Drinking Battleship.”

  Immediately, she shook her head.

  “You sink my ship, I drink.” He held up the bottle of Crown. “I sink your ship, you drink. Look, we’ve even got Fireball, beloved whiskey of girls all across the land.”

  Jinx rolled her eyes. “Okay. I agree to your terms, only because I plan to wipe your ships off the ocean in record time.”

  He pulled two shot glasses from the corner cupboard and set one next to each liquor bottle. They could both stand to let go of the constant stress and worry, at least for an evening.

  And so it began.

  She kicked his ass that first game. He’d only taken out one of her ships—the big one with five holes—when she’d obliterated his fleet. But she agreed to play again, and his luck changed. She sat smiling between games two and three while he warmed Annie’s milk and fed her.

  “Game three is mine, buddy,” she announced when the puppy snoozed happily in his lap. “Utilized that intra-mission to come up with a killer str- stragety.”

  Heh. He’d had eight shots to her six, but they were clearly hitting her. “Mm-hmm.” Dark had fallen, so he’d closed the blinds and turned on the battery light at the table. He turned to get better light on his game board and jumped at a Crack! Shit. He looked at his pieces to see if one had dropped. Crack!

  “Guns. Shit!” Jinx bopped the switch on the lantern and ducked under the table.

  Guns?

  “Dallas. Down.” She tugged his leg. Annie had startled at the first shot, sliding off his lap into Jinx’s waiting arms.

  He followed them to the floor, feeling goofy. “They’re out at the highway, not here.” Now that he thought about it, the rain had stopped or they couldn’t have heard the shots.

  Another shot, this one from a larger weapon, and a faint wail carried to his ears. Not one wail, either. A group of people wailing in unison. Chills and goosebumps broke out on his skin.

  “Somebody’s shooting other somebodies.” Jinx pressed the back of her hand to her mouth. “Oh God oh God oh God.”

  A motor revved and a loud whoop sounded over the wails. Whoever had been shot, they’d be missed by a pack of people who loved them. They weren’t animals. They might have to live like them for now in order to survive, but that’s what humans did, right? They survived ice ages and plagues and mass extinctions. And humanity moved forward.

  “Shh. Easy.” He put an arm around Jinx as more shots echoed through the night. “Easy.” He didn’t know what monsters were out driving around, physically well but mentally demented, shooting the helplessly sick. He sucked in a deep breath. His gun was on the table, within reach. He’d defend himself, Jinx, and their puppy, if he had to. The revved engine faded off into the distance. With luck, the killers were gone for the night.

  “God, this freaking sucks,” she said against his shoulder. “This whole stupid thing sucks. Why? Why did any of this happen? And why did we live through it, for this?”

  She was really losing her shit. He needed a distraction. Leaving her side, he knelt and grabbed both bottles from the table. “I think it’s time we had a send-off for Life as We Knew It.” He shoved the Fireball into her hands. “I’ll go first. RIP, pepperoni pizza.” He tipped up his bottle of Crown and drank. A little.

  Jinx eyed him. “You’re tryin’ to get me wasted.”

  “Beats sitting here scared.”

  She smirked. “Yup. Okay-right, then. RIP, Lean Cuisine.” She drank.

  “Seriously? You’re gonna miss those, when we’ll never get another fresh pineapple?” He drank.

  “Oh. Pineapple. Valid. How ‘bout avocados? Guacamole, you are history.” She tipped up her bottle and gulped.

  “Citrus, you will be missed. We’ll always love you, oranges, grapefruit, lemons, limes.” Key lime pie. So sad.

  Jinx stopped her bottle on the way to her mouth. “Oops. Not my turn. But ya know, you can grow lemons inside. We jus’ need a sunny room with a tall ceiling. I can grow things. My dad’s got a lil greenhouse and he taught me some stuff.”

  “Good to know.” They clinked bottles. “RIP, bacon and ham.”

  “Salami,” she added. They both drank.

  “Wieners!” He laughed.

  “Dirty mind. Are you premedicating?” She acted serious, then cracked up.

  “I think we both are, sweets.” And premeditating too. Not that anything fun would be happening tonight. For one thing, she was too tipsy for him to feel right about it. But he wouldn’t be able to give her his full attention when maniacs were driving up and down the highway shooting sick people. And, oh yeah. There was that other reason he wouldn’t get naked with her again. What was it again?

  “Dallas?” She set her bottle down, held her hand to her mouth. “I think…I shouldn’t drink any more, anymore.”

  “Yeah, me too. Let’s see if we can make it to the couch and hang out there like we did last night, huh?”

  CHAPT
ER 5

  Jinx woke feeling like hell. She groaned and stretched her neck, held her head. Fireball. Damn it.

  “Hey,” Dallas mumbled, his voice rough in the super-quiet morning.

  She’d slept on the couch with Dallas and the puppy, after pretending to drink a lot of Fireball. Well, she had drunk some. Just not as much as he’d thought. So why did she feel so… “Hot.”

  “Hmm?” Things rustled as he sat up. “You’re kinda pink.” He laid a palm against her cheek. God, it was so cool.

  She covered it with her hand, turned it over so the back was against her face. Ahhh. “You’re nice and cool.”

  “Ah, shit! Jinx. I think you have a fever.”

  Her eyes popped open. Fever?

  “Fuck. Oh, fuck fuck fuck. We shouldn’t have gone to Walmart.” His words were muffled; maybe his face was against his arm or other hand. “Those masks weren’t the right ones. God damn it. No. Oh, no.”

  “Wait. Wait. No, get away. Get back.” She shoved his hand from her. “Go. Back.”

  “Jesus, Jinx, I just laid here with you all night. If you caught it, so did I.”

  “No. No.” She stood up so fast the blood rushed to her head and she swayed. “No. Maybe not. I need to go. I need to…go.” But where? “The guest house. I’ll go there.” To die, probably. But maybe not. Maybe she’d become a crazy-eyed freak. Damn it. “Quarantine.” Yeah, that was the word she’d been after. “We should know in a couple days, right?”

  “No.” He grabbed at her arm but she shook him away, stepped back further. “We’ll ride it out together, huh? It’ll be fine.”

  “What, so you can get sick and die too? Then who’ll take care of Annie?”

  He looked down at the puppy, who wagged her tail at the mention of her name. “She’s so smart. Already.” Proud Papa blended with the misery on his face.

  “Yeah. You’ve gotta stay to take care of her. Rescuing her would’ve been for nothing if she dies alone here instead of in that field.” Determination made her stand up straight. “Here’s the deal. I’ll grab my clothes and head out there. Can you bring me some water, and a snack here and there?” She felt pretty sick to her stomach but she might be hungry later. “Leave it on the front step. Don’t you dare set foot in there.” He seemed busy processing her requests. “Oh, a notebook and pen, and some stuff to read, please.” She paused, waiting for him to look at her. “I don’t wanta die of boredom.” Baboom, boom.

  “Jinx.” He hadn’t appreciated her joke.

  “What, too soon?” She gave him her best smile, which felt really forced and almost teary. But she needed to be tough for him.

  “Stop.”

  “Nope. I’ll head out.” She turned to the hallway.

  “No, stop. Right there. Tell me something?”

  “Yeah?” She had a guess what he’d ask, and he deserved to know, so she faced him.

  “Why me? For your first?”

  “You were the only guy who ever told me I had a tasty smile.”

  “I said that right before we did it.”

  Which precluded premeditation. Damn. She took a deep breath. “I picked you because you were the one I wanted.” And damn it, she tasted tears.

  He closed his eyes. Gulped. Nodded. “Sorry I got so mad about it. I just would’ve…done it different. Gentler, you know? If I’d known.”

  Of course he would have. She’d been an idiot to go in pretending she was experienced.

  He stepped closer, tried to touch her, but she backed up. He couldn’t endanger himself more than he had. “I wish you’d been my first, too.”

  Oh, God. She turned and practically ran down the hall, choking back the tears she could save for later, when she was alone.

  “I’ll bring you an Easy Cheese sandwich later,” he called from the kitchen window as she made her way out to the little trailer that might become her final resting place.

  * * * *

  She woke with a start on a lumpy bed in a strange room. She’d heard something. What? Where was she? Fake wood paneling, faded blue curtains at the windows. A face…whoa. She jerked back again. Some lady was staring in a window at her. She literally had her hands cupped around her face against the glass, staring. And now she waved one hand.

  “Um.” Jinx pulled a sheet up to her neck. As stuff clunked off the sides of the bed she realized the lumps were books and…she’d been reading before she fell asleep. And writing. A couple of folded letters were on the nightstand.

  “Hi!” the lady called cheerfully. Ugh. She seemed familiar, but Jinx couldn’t place her…maybe she normally had on more makeup. Makeup. That’s it! Carly Robinson—she had a YouTube channel with a bajillion followers, where she tested beauty products.

  Geez. She felt like crap, knew she was staring like a dunce at this lady she’d seen around but didn’t know. In some kind of mental fog, she tried to separate reality from delusion. She had a fever, could tell by the feel of her hot face, her dry lips, headache. Maybe a little ringing in her ears, or that could just be the otherwise silent universe, which made it possible to hear her own pulse. No, it must be a weird dream. She shut her eyes.

  “Hey. Jinx? Are you okay?” Dreamlady hadn’t left. Maybe Dallas could get rid of her.

  Dallas?

  Her eyes opened again. Yes, she knew this room. She’d dreamed of it in darkness many times since graduation night, but now she was there in broad daylight.

  “Um. Can I help you?” she said toward the window. It was shut, but like windows on most old trailer houses, the thin glass didn’t block much sound.

  “I’m checking to see if you need anything. Dallas asked me to come by.”

  “Where is he?”

  Dreamlady/Carly studied her carefully. “He went up to check on his cattle. Nick rode up with him. He didn’t tell you?”

  Jinx closed her eyes, thought back. “Maybe.” Dallas had been by several times yesterday. It seemed like she’d hardly rested at all. He might’ve even been playing music…their song. Or had she dreamed that? He had a lot to talk about; she’d mostly listened, and honestly when evening came, she’d been relieved because she could sleep. “Something about…finding a CB radio in a big rig.” He’d seen or heard those jerks in the truck with guns and he’d eavesdropped on their conversation. “He saw you. And Nick. At a fire.” Yeah, a house fire. He’d gone to check it out, and they’d been there too. But first he’d used the CB radio to call the guy on Doomsday Radio.

  “Good. Yes.” Carly used a mom-voice, encouraging and kind.

  Mom. She was a mom—had twins a year younger than Jinx. She’d always been at high school events. Jinx opened her eyes. “Your kids?”

  Carly’s smile faltered, but with a tiny shake of her head, she pasted it back on. “They’re away at CSU but I’m sure they’ll be fine. We just can’t communicate right now, with cell service down.”

  Too bad for Carly. She’d end up getting a firsthand glimpse of what this virus did to people, and then her hopes would be crushed. “Um, yeah, well, I’m alright for now. Thanks for waking me, though. I want to finish this book before my eyes are ruined.”

  Carly tipped her head sideways, her high pony tail flipping along with it. “I don’t think you’ve got that virus, hon.”

  How would she know? “Why?” She wished. She really, really did. Dying wasn’t really on her bucket list—well, she supposed it was on everybody’s bucket list. It was the actual bucket, right?—but she liked the idea of becoming Zombie Cowgirl even less.

  “I think your eyes would be dilated by now. My neighbors had every window covered to block the light by day two. And my husband could hardly…” Her voice faltered. “Talk.”

  “Oh. Did your husband die?” Had Carly watched that? Is that why Dallas sent her here, to confirm her diagnosis?

  “No!” Carly straightened. “No. He’s in Denver. He was working there. He’ll be fine as soon as they come up with a cure.”

  Wow. This was definitely a bright-side lady. “I’m pretty sure
I’m dying.” God knew she’d been in that bathroom vomiting more times than she could count. And the headache alone sometimes made her wish it would all be over.

  “Not of Screwy-Eyes Disease, or Mutant Virus, or whatever you want to call it,” Carly insisted.

  “What else could it be? It’s not like I’ve been in contact with…strep or the flu, or…anything.” Or anybody.

  Carly shrugged and tipped her head toward one shoulder. “For now, just get your rest and stay hydrated. The guys got an early start so they should be back by mid-afternoon. I fed the chickens and let them out to scratch around. Hopefully they don’t wreck Mrs. Miller’s garden.”

  Wow. A lot had happened while she’d been out. Would she live to have any of it matter? “Um. Okay. Thank you.” She watched Carly wave and walk away.

  If some of this was a dream, maybe it all was. But details came swarming in now. Dallas had told her all about what those shooters were saying while he hid in the cab of a big rig. They were escapees from the county jail. And even though he doubted most of them had been big-time criminals before, they were all murderers now.

  Nick and Carly believed the sick were setting house fires on one side of town to lure the gang in because they wanted revenge for hunting and shooting them.

  Dallas was relieved to have found other healthy people, and Nick was going to help him with the fence and cows. Good. She didn’t want to think of Dallas all alone after she died. He’d have Annie, but still. He’d been alone all summer. She wanted him to have people to help him, and keep him company. Maybe they’d even find some other young woman for him eventually.

  She wouldn’t cry about that.

  She wouldn’t. Much.