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The Thunder Rolls: The Dawson Brothers #8

Page 6

by Parker, Ali


  “You know. Just because you’re staying here doesn’t mean you have to spend all your time here!” I shouted back at him.

  “What does that mean?” he shouted back.

  “I mean you could go into town tonight. Go to the bar. The dance hall. Meet a pretty girl,” I said.

  “Shoot! You don’t want me going to no dance hall. I’d be calling you from the sheriff’s office to bail me out!”

  “Really? You’re that tough?”

  “Trouble just has a way of finding me sometimes,” he said.

  “Well. I’m just saying. You’re older now and can do those things!”

  “There is that burger joint I dream about! Remember when we all used to go?”

  “Yeah, Sam’s burgers. Still there! Still good!” I laughed.

  “Let’s go tomorrow night for dinner!” he said.

  “No. No. Wednesday is when I catch up on the bookkeeping and send out confirmation emails and directions. These tourists get lost real easy out here,” I said.

  He laughed. “I bet.”

  Then we were quiet. We rode along, like old friends that had always known each other. I was comfortable with him. This feeling was strong, and I knew it was also dangerous. But I didn’t want to think of that now. He was helping me, and I was helping him and that was the extent that I could consider it for now. But my heart was pounding and there was a big stupid smile on my face that I couldn’t wipe off if I tried. Dang it.

  9

  Dylan

  I was glad that Helen was letting me stay on the ranch. I didn’t lie to her. I needed this getaway just as much as she needed help. A sense of relief came over me that I wouldn’t be going back to Dawson Ranch just yet. Time away would help calm my restless spirit and that energy could be used in helping her out.

  The second night at the Larson Dude Ranch was just like the first. A quick dinner and then she quickly pushed me out to my own bungalow. She didn’t want me hanging around after dinner. So I spent a quiet night sitting in the rocking chair on the bungalow porch, and went to bed early. Waking up at 6 am meant you were in bed by 10 or earlier.

  Now I sat at the counter of Sam’s Burger Joint. The place I used to come to when I worked summers at the ranch. I took it upon myself to make a stop for a late lunch after dropping off the tractor at the mechanic shop. Luckily the burger joint had ample parking for a double cab pulling a trailer.

  “What can I get ya?” the waitress asked.

  “A cup of joe, a glass of water, and a double-decker with extra cheese and fries,” I smiled.

  “Coming right up,” she said, and walked away.

  I was real excited to eat the burger that I had not eaten in years. I didn’t know what it was about this place, but they sure did a good job with their burgers.

  A few minutes later I was experiencing heaven as I bit into the same burger I’d been wanting for years. It tasted exactly as I remembered, and I was darn happy about it.

  While I sat and ate, I got a good look at the locals and overheard the conversations around me. Small town talk was about the same in every small town, and there was a familiar feeling to it.

  When I was done eating, I drank more of my coffee and prepared to head back to the ranch. I wondered if I should take Helen a piece of pie.

  “Ma’am could I get a piece of cherry pie to go?”

  “You got it,” she said.

  “Taking pie to your girlfriend?” I heard a soft voice say.

  To my side, a pretty girl around my age leaned on the counter. It seemed like she had been walking by and stopped just to chat with me.

  “No. No girlfriend, just a friend,” I said with a smile. I looked at her. Her brown hair was in a high ponytail and there was a lot of black eyeliner around her dark eyes. Her curves were in cut off jean shorts, cowboy boots and a mid-drift shirt that showed off a tanned and toned belly. Not bad, I thought, but not interested.

  “You’re not from around here are you?” she asked.

  “I’ve been through here a few times, but no I’m not from here,” I said.

  “Then where?”

  “East Texas,” I said.

  “Cool.”

  “Staying here long? Staying with your friend—cherry pie?” she asked with a sly grin.

  “Yes. I’m helping out my friend for a while so I’m staying in these parts,” I said.

  “Here you are, one cherry pie to go,” the waitress said. I handed her my card to pay the bill.

  “Well, East Texas, you should come on out to the dance hall on Friday night. I’ll save you a dance. My name is Billy. Everyone knows me, just ask around,” she said.

  “Maybe I’ll come out,” I said, not wanting to be rude and reject her in public. She was pretty, but there was something about her that I couldn’t place. She seemed like the same girls I would see hanging at the bar in my town. But there was something dishonest about this one.

  “Good. I’ll make sure to save you a dance. Bye East Texas,” she said. Then she turned and walked toward the door.

  The waitress handed me my card and I signed the bill. As I stood up, I saw Billy climb into the passenger side of a large truck with high ride tires. It burned rubber out of the lot as it left. I just rolled my eyes. Showoffs like that were not interesting to me.

  I grabbed the box of pie and headed out to my own truck pulling the long empty trailer.

  As I drove through town it was nice to reminisce about my summers there. After hearing Billy mention the dance hall, I decided to head in that direction. It would be good to see it again. I turned toward the outskirts of town on the east side and got a little turned around. It had been a while, then I found it. A big sign hovered on the corrugated metal roof that read Mickey’s.

  I smiled looking at the long building. It was a true dance hall. One you could even call a complex because it had different sections. Turning off the ignition, I stepped out of my truck and walked around a bit. Just looking at the surroundings and working down that burger.

  “Help you cutie?” a voice came from a red Mustang pulling up.

  “I’m just looking around. I used to come here when I worked on the Larson Dude Ranch a long time ago,” I said to the woman in a cowboy hat and glasses. I didn’t get a good look at her inside her car.

  “You’re not from here. I would have seen you around—that’s for sure,” she said.

  “No ma’am. I’m working out at the ranch again for a few weeks. I’m not from around here.”

  “Well, welcome back to Birny. I’ve always loved the Larson Dude Ranch. It’s a shame the new place is cutting in on their business and all,” she said.

  I had a thought. “Yes, the Saddle Ranch Complex. Where is that again?”

  She smiled. It’s out on 183 heading west. Can’t miss it—you’ll see all the flashy signs. I gotta get going, cowboy,” she called as she drove the car around the back of the building.

  I tipped my hat to her as she drove away. Now, I was on a mission and quickly climbed back in my truck.

  Heading west on Highway 183, I began to see the flashy signs glittering in the sun—Saddle Ranch Complex, now 2 miles up ahead. I followed the signs, though they were hardly needed once I saw the massive complex from the highway as I grew closer.

  Helen was right. It was very modern—ugly in my opinion. Massive light blue silos had been recently erected by the looks of how modern they were. Even the ranch gate and cattle guard to enter the driveway was flashy. Corrals with horses were in the forefront and there were a multitude of buildings everywhere. It looked to me like a western movie set put on by Disney.

  I continued on down the highway to circle back toward the Larson Dude Ranch. The Saddle Ranch Complex was nothing but an imposter, through and through. A shame it was hurting Helen’s business so badly, I thought as I shook my head.

  Coming up on the Larson Dude Ranch a few minutes later, I appreciated the traditional look even more. This was what a ranch looked like in real life. This was the true experienc
e and I was glad to be a part of it.

  I pulled into the driveway that ballooned out into the dirt lot and parked my truck. I looked at the box of cherry pie on the passenger seat and smiled. I couldn’t wait to see her beautiful face. I had only been gone a few hours and already missed it. I was smitten.

  Ping. Ping.

  My phone vibrated in my back pocket and I pulled it out. It was Tanner. I smiled and answered.

  “Well, if it ain’t my long-lost brother,” I said.

  “I was going to say the same to you. How are things? Father is making me call to check in on you since we haven’t heard a word. How’s the beach?”

  “Um, it’s great,” I said. They had no idea where I was, and I wasn’t going to tell them now.

  “I’m driving down the coastline tomorrow to South Padre Island, so I’ll be on the move a lot.”

  “Well, we miss you out here. Everything’s the same.”

  “How’s everyone? The guys? Abi?”

  “Abi is keen on making some sort of party for Memorial Day, a big barbeque. You know how she’s been on the outdoor party kick ever since she moved the harvest dinner outdoors. Now she wants to do every holiday up big,” he said.

  I laughed. “That sounds like Abi, alright,” I said.

  “Connor and Wyatt are good. They’ve started a chess competition between them out on the porch on Sundays. I’ve told them neither of them will ever win because they’re equal amounts of dumb.”

  I laughed hard. “That’s a good one.”

  “Alright, baby brother, just checking in. Don’t be a stranger and at least send a few texts now and then so Father doesn’t make me call you.”

  “Will do. Give my love to everyone. I’ll be home in a couple of weeks,” I said.

  “Alright. Take care,” he said, then hung up the phone.

  A little tinge of homesickness reached me. It was nice to hear what everyone was up to, but I knew that I wanted to be where I was. Especially when I saw Helen cross the ranch toward the guest bungalows. I smiled and grabbed the box of cherry pie and got out of my truck. I was ready for a treat.

  10

  Helen

  I pushed the mop into the bucket soaking up the soapy water. Then I wrung it out just a bit and continued to mop the beautiful old oak floors. But I was fine with cleaning, in fact, I was excited! We had a last-minute booking. A family would be arriving the next day, a Thursday! I never said no to a last-minute booking. How could I? I had already contacted Eddie and Marshall to let them know that I would need them earlier than usual the next day. But a part of me was glad that Dylan was on the ranch as well. He had gone into town to take the tractor to the mechanic and grab some lunch. I was glad for it. I needed a little time away from him. I had gotten used to staring at him—something that I was actually feeling guilty about.

  Feeling confused was very new to me, and that confusion was based on the fact that I was having a lot of fun when Dylan was near me. We tended to bicker a bit, but now that I had accepted his offer to stay on for a couple of weeks, our arguing had turned into a fun banter. I was enjoying it, even though he had only been at the ranch two nights.

  But I was careful that right after dinner, I sent him to his bungalow. He didn’t have to go straight to sleep of course and was free to wander around the ranch if he wanted, I just knew that he couldn’t stay in my house. I didn’t trust myself. There was something about the nighttime and the moon so high in the sky that ignited a feeling of loneliness inside me, perhaps inside of everyone. Those were dangerous times, so I couldn’t have a temptation like Dylan around. He still felt forbidden to me and I had more than one reason to think so.

  “Hungry?” I turned toward the door to see Dylan leaning in the doorway, one ankle crossed over the other. He looked dashing, with that grin on his face and his cowboy hat and snug western shirt. There was a box in his hand. I leaned the mop against the wall.

  “What’s that?”

  “Pie. Cherry pie, I thought of you when I saw it. I thought you might want a little treat.” He held up two forks in his other hand. “Of course, you’re going to have to share, though.”

  I laughed. “If I must. Let’s sit outside,” I said.

  Together we walked out onto the porch of the small bungalow and sat in the rocking chairs. He handed me a fork and opened the box. I knew the pie very well; it was from the burger joint down the road.

  “Smells good. Thank you for thinking of me,” I grinned.

  “You’re welcome. Are you cleaning this bungalow again? I thought you did that on Mondays and then again on Thursdays before the Friday arrivals?”

  “Yes, normally I do. But I just got a call for a last-minute booking. We’re now expecting guests tomorrow. A family.”

  “Well that’s good news, ain’t it?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “I can’t wait. That is if you’re going to let me interact with the guests?” He teased me with a big smile.

  “I don’t know. Can you handle it?” I teased him back, knowing very well that he could.

  “Shoot. I used to handle it when I was here as a teenager. Now that I’m a man—an experienced man, it will be a breeze. I can do a lot of things.”

  I bet you can. My mind grabbed his statement and ran with it, and for some reason, I thought about sex immediately. I had to shake the thought from my mind and shoved a forkful of pie into my mouth.

  “I’m going to let you have that last piece,” he said, looking down at the pie.

  “But it’s the crust, that’s the best part,” I said playfully.

  “I know that. But I want you to have it. For letting me stay here and all,” he joked around with me.

  “Well, that is just too gracious. You are a true gentleman, sir,” I said, realizing this was the playful banter that I had been having with him since Tuesday afternoon. That was when I finally allowed my anger to subside—anger based on him pushing me into letting him stay against my initial wishes. I was glad that I let it go. This light-hearted conversation we now enjoyed was just what I needed. It was good to have someone around that I could talk to, and he ensured it wasn’t all serious regarding business or financial situations.

  He stood up.

  “Where are you going?”

  “You said we had guests coming tomorrow right?”

  “Yep.”

  “I’m going to go polish off them saddles. The first thing guests always want to do is ride the horses, ain’t that right?”

  “Yes, that is true. They have two children as well.”

  “Got it. I will polish off the kid’s saddles as well.”

  “I’m going to finish off this bungalow and stock it with amenities. Can I count on you to exercise the horses with me later? Bring them in from the pasture and take them down the trails, just to refresh their memory.”

  “I look forward to it, Helen,” he said, then tipped his hat at me. With that, he turned his back and walked toward the stables. I watched as he walked away. That cute butt in his tight jeans was something to see. I smiled and bit my lower lip, realizing that I was allowing myself to indulge in that moment without forcing myself to look away. The guilt was starting to subside, but there was more than just guilt from being a widow that was holding me back from indulging my senses with this attractive man. It was a reason I didn’t think he would understand because he was a man from a family of mostly men.

  No, there was no way he would understand where I was coming from. I went back inside and continued to mop the floor. I already had fresh sheets waiting to be put on, but I would do that in the morning, so that there would be no dust settling on them. It was a ranch after all, and dust was a problem.

  When the bungalow was done, I took the cleaning supplies back to the storage room. Once everything was done and ready for guests, I went back to my office to do work on the books. It was good to sit down for a while and work on accounting after being all over the ranch. I looked at the clock, it was 6 p.m. The sun set at 8 p.m. in the mo
nth of May, giving us long summer hours. I decided to shower and change before meeting Dylan to take the horses out for their exercise. I usually didn’t bother to shower before taking the horses ou, and was trying to convince myself it was because I was extra dusty. But my heart knew it was because I wanted to be fresh and pleasant around this attractive man.

  Right before sunset, we saddled horses and set out to the pasture. I was on my mare Dixie. Dylan was on the palomino. We dashed out onto the green pasture and started to round up the horses, pushing them back toward the head of the trail. They already knew the routine. They were smart.

  I watched as Dylan expertly handled his horse, he was good at it. He was able to make really sharp turns that I usually only saw in the rodeo, like in barrel racing. He was an expert rider and I could tell. It was very attractive to see someone so confident on their mount. I was so distracted by watching him that I didn’t notice that the sky had turned from blue to gray. I thought the diminished light was only due to the sun heading toward the horizon to set, but I was wrong. It wasn’t until a big gust of wind blew hard, blowing dust and grass in my direction, that I realized the weather had changed. But I barely had a moment to shield my eyes when Dixie suddenly bolted!

  “Woah!” I shouted, as I hung on tight.

  Dixie didn’t like the wind, she never had. She was very skittish as soon as the wind picked up, and if I had known a storm or high winds were headed our way, I would never have taken her out of the stable. But it was too late now, and I had a tiger by the tail.

  As I shouted, I grabbed the reins tightly and lowered my body toward her neck, squeezing with my legs as I hung on. “Woah, Dixie! Stop! Woah! Stop!” I was trying to pull on the reins but pulling backward also meant that I would possibly fall off. She was galloping at such a high speed, taking off in the opposite direction as the rest of the horses. If I didn’t stop her, I could end up in San Antonio before she ran out of steam.

 

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