Cowboy's Cupid

by Niki Mitchell

  “Cami. And you are?”

  “Zia.”

  Cami shook Zia’s tiny hand.

  “I’m Zoe. We’re twins.” She gave a lopsided grin. “You Michael’s girlfriend?”

  Cami wasn’t Michael’s anything if he had a say in this. He found himself clenching his jaw which was crazy.

  “I’m Rhett and Michael’s housekeeper.”

  “You clean house like mommy,” Zia said.

  “I do. Except I’m not as lucky as your mother. I wish I had two great helpers like you girls.”

  Heather snickered.

  “Your face sparkles with pink and white glitter like Tinker Bell,” Zoe reached out, touched Cami’s face, and outlined an imaginary heart on her cheek. “You a fairy?”

  Cami gasped. Coughing, she grabbed a glass of water and took a long drink.

  Heather mouthed, “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be. They’re adorable.” Cami kept her eyes on the girls.

  “Hope you’re ecstatic about the party.” Heather laughed. “On this ranch, we celebrate Valentine’s Day in grand style.”

  “My favorite day.” Cami’s wardrobe in shades of white, red, and pink screamed the dreaded valentine theme.

  If he hadn’t already swallowed his food, he would have choked. Valentine’s. He figured a woman started the event to torture men to buy flowers, candy, cards, jewelry. And God forbid if you ask some gal to marry you that day.

  His mom leaned forward and talked to Cami. “Michael said you’re quite a cook. You can assist Heather with baking.”

  “I’d like that.” Cami’s fork made a pattern in her mashed potatoes.

  Michael and Cami chatted, but Rhett couldn’t hear what they said. She seemed more relaxed than she did with him. He could care less how she interacted with Michael. What mattered was her performance as their housekeeper.

  His mom nudged Rhett. “Think one of you can bring Cami at nine tomorrow?”

  “Michael will. I have ... things to do.” He couldn’t think straight with Cami’s pretty eyes gazing at him.

  “I’ll be happy to bring her,” Michael said a little too quickly.

  His mom got up and tapped Rhett’s shoulder. “At the party, I expect to see a smile on your face.”

  “Of course, Mom.” As if he had any other choice.

  The meal ended, and Rhett turned to Michael, “Think you can take Cami back so I can head into town?”

  With his brother’s nod, he was off for a beer at the Last Call Saloon.

  Ten minutes after Rhett left his parent’s home, he drove along the ranch’s rutted dirt road toward the town. Two nights ago, he’d drunk far too many whiskey shots. Maybe the bar wasn’t a good idea. He turned around, deciding to have a beer at home. His thoughts drifted to Cami. Serious and guarded, and full of secrets.

  Once inside his home, Rhett snagged a beer from the fridge and sat on the couch in the living room, taking a long swig.

  ~ ~ ~

  Michael led Cami to his shiny silver truck and opened the door.

  “What’s up with Rhett?” She sank into the plush seat, pulled out the buckle, and snapped it in place.

  “This time of year’s not exactly his favorite.”

  “Why not?”

  Michael started up the car and drove. “It’s up to him to share.”

  In other words, mind your own business. Well, she certainly didn’t want either him or Rhett nosing around her personal affairs. “I liked your family. You’re mom’s an absolute doll. She went out of her way to make me feel welcomed. And your dad was nice, too.” His dad had been warm and friendly.

  “You seem tense. What’s up?”

  “I’m a little anxious about the party.” As a Cupid in the mortal world, the event had her more than anxious. She was pretty much terrified. “The whole town will be there.”

  He glanced sideways at her. “Folks are friendly.”

  “Easy for you to say.” Finding Rhett’s soulmate and shooting her arrow when they both made eye contact wouldn’t be easy.

  “The party’s pretty casual. Potluck. Everyone will be bringing their favorite dishes.”

  She took in a deep breath and let it out.

  “Once you bring out food from the house, you can hang with the women, even dance if you’d like.” Michael’s jovial tone failed to ease the dread knotting her stomach.

  “I’m not much at socializing.”

  “Then don’t. At the end, you clear off tables, throw away trash, bring dirty platters into the house. It’s not hard.”

  She hesitated. “Thanks for not telling Rhett about the dishwasher. I want to keep this job.”

  “We both hired you. And since you’re cooking isn’t bad, I’d like you to stay on. But you need to tell me when you don’t know how to do something. Yesterday, I noticed soap crusted on the jeans you hung up and rewash them.”

  “Sorry.” So much for staying under the radar, competently doing her job until she matched up Rhett.

  “You’re obviously not a housekeeper. Are you in some kind of trouble?”

  “No. I saw the ad and thought a ranch would be a nice change of pace.” If only she could confide in him about her real mission. Somehow, she had to keep him on her side.

  He shrugged. “If you say so ... but if you’re in trouble, please tell me now.”

  “It’s nothing like that. Honest.” Time to switch topics and get some info about Rhett. “Either of you have girlfriends?”

  “Had a wife. Never again.” A deep sadness mirrored his eyes.

  “And Rhett?”

  “Rhett likes women plenty but isn’t lookin’ to make a committment.”

  “Oh.” Had she accidentally shot a human who might never fall in love?

  “You like him.”

  “Not me.”

  “Your eyes don’t go soft every time I enter the room.”

  “That’s ludicrous.” Rhett fascinated her because he was different from male Cupids. She liked how she had to look up to see him, whereas most Cupid males were a few inches taller than her at most. She liked how his suntanned face brought out his whiskey-colored eyes, where the blue or green eyes of Cupid men seemed, well, rather boring. While Michael and his brother were similar in looks, there was something about Rhett that captivated her. She shrugged. No sense pondering about such a silly notion.

  Michael parked behind Rhett’s truck. “Looks like my brother decided not to go into town. Wanna come inside and have a beer?”

  “Okay.” She might gain a little insight into Rhett’s interests and use it to find his soulmate at the party.

  ~ ~ ~

  Michael strolled in with Cami. “Cami’s gonna have a drink with us.” He motioned to her to take the leather chair.

  “Unless you’d prefer Pepsi, Bud’s all we’ve got.” Rhett said, waiting for her answer.

  She eased into her spot and crossed her legs. “To be honest, I’ve never had beer. I drink ambrosia and, occasionally, champagne.”

  “Ambrosia?” Michael chuckled. “Must be a fru-fru drink.”

  “And we’re plumb out of champagne.” Rhett shook his head.

  “Bud it is.” Michael strutted toward the kitchen.

  Cami’s foot wiggled. “You left in quite a hurry.”

  “Yep.” He turned on a hockey game, ignoring the scent of her sweet perfume that lingered in the air.

  Michael carried two bottles, unscrewed one and handed it to Cami. “Here you go.”

  She took a sip. “Interesting flavor.” She focused on the game. “About time Vanrazzo got the puck.”

  “You like hockey?” Rhett would have never guessed.

  “Dad’s a Silver Wings fanatic. We used to sit on a cloud and catch the game. He got me hooked.” Her eyes stayed glued to the screen.

  Sit on a cloud? He must’ve heard wrong.

  She took a swig, her attention on the television. “Block it. Yes!” Her eyes glowed with excitement.

  Rhett smiled. “No offense, but I’m rootin
g for the Jackals.”

  “You’ll lose.”

  “Care to wager a dozen cinnamon muffins when the Jackals win.”

  “And you’ll mop the kitchen floor when your team loses?”

  “You drive a hard bargain.” He shook her hand, and a jolt of awareness sparked.

  She finished off her bottle, smiling as she set it on the table. Her cheeks flushed.

  “Want another?” Michael pointed to Cami.

  “Yes, please.” She stood when Skipwyth brought the puck down the rink. “You’re clear. Shoot!” The puck crossed the goal line between the two posts. “Goal! Rhett, the mop’s calling you.”

  “No it’s not. Silver Wings will be the victor.”

  Her jibe stirred emotions he’d preferred buried. He didn’t want to be attracted to her. He wished he could fire her, but what would be the reason? Being beautiful and tempting. That would never work.

  The Jackals got possession, passing the puck toward the goal. “Knock it in, Drayton. Yes.”

  The television announcer said, “Jackals tied the score.”

  “Not so sure of yourself now?” Rhett laughed as he contemplated his prize. “Hope you bought plenty of cinnamon.”

  “Silver Wings will be victorious.”

  Hot damn, she was cute acting defensive.

  Michael handed her another open beer.

  She took a swig, putting it down when a hockey fight erupted. Thomas slammed into Vanrazzo. Vanrazzo threw a hook. Her hands folded tightly together as she watched the screen.

  The referee continued, “Double-minor on Silver Wings for unnecessary roughness.”

  “Unfair!” she shouted. “Thomas started the fight.”

  “The referee’s just doing his job.” Rhett couldn’t resist chuckling.

  “Then he needs glasses.”

  “What’s up with you two?” Michael asked.

  “A little bet, one I plan on winning.” Rhett smiled at Cami.

  “His team is losing.” Her lips were tight, her stare direct and satisfied.

  Michael snickered. “Hope you’re right. My brother tends to be a tad competitive.”

  “Who me?”

  “Block Thomas. Don’t let him pass to King.” She shrieked, “Nooooo.”

  Another goal. The scoreboard on the television showed Silver Wings 4. Jackals 6.

  Her head dropped. “The muffins will have to wait ’till after the party.”

  “Don’t mind waiting.” He longed to pull her into his arms and kiss her senseless. What’s wrong with him? He had to fight this temptation to do something stupid.

  “It’s getting late, and I have a busy day tomorrow.” She got up and walked to the door.

  Rhett stood. “I’ll walk you home.”

  “That’s not necessary.”

  “Maybe not, but I’m escorting you.” He held the door open for her, grabbed a flashlight from the outside wall, turned it on, and offered his arm. Surprisingly, she took it. He guided her up the stair to the platform and unlocked her apartment. “Good night, Cami.”

  She turned and their eyes locked.

  “You have the prettiest eyes.” Unable to resist her any longer, he leaned in, and pressed his lips to hers.

  ~ ~ ~

  Cami darted inside her apartment. Her pulse tatted, and her legs wobbled. Holy Zeus. A mortal just kissed her. She stripped and put on her nightgown, all the while trying to forget his mouth against hers.

  “A-choo,” she sneezed.

  Her right eye twitched. Her eyes never twitched. She sneezed again. Green heartbumps formed on her arms.

  Oh, no! An allergic reaction. Think. What had she eaten? At the parent’s home hours ago—scalloped potatoes, steamed vegetables with a buttery sauce, apple strudel. Since her reaction usually occurred within the first hour, she thought about what she consumed at Rhett and Michael’s. Popcorn and beer.

  What’s in beer?

  She called into her communicator to list the ingredients.

  “Water, hops, yeast, barley malt,” a voice said.

  Barley.

  She was allergic to barley. At the age of five or six, she had barley soup. Staring into a mirror, a bright yellow face with purple spots reflected back. As a teen, she ate a barley muffin, and her fingernails turned orange. A year ago, she’d nibbled an appetizer with barley. Her body shrunk to the size of a dragonfly.

  A teaspoon of orange blossom honey cured imbalances. She’d forgotten to bring any.

  Her eye twitched.

  Searching the cabinet above the sink, she found a can of split pea soup, crackers, kitchen trash bags, baking soda. Behind that box a nearly empty bottle of maple syrup. Might as well give it a try.

  She got a spoon from the drawer, tilted the bottle, and took a spoonful. Both of her eyes twitched, and she sneezed three times in a row.

  Not good.

  Aaaa-choo. The mustard-colored fairy dust that discharged from her nose and encircled her body. She shrunk to her Cupid stature. Wings fluttered. Even though her green heartbumps disappeared on her arms, she took off her nightie to check for sure. Darn it. Her belly had yellow and blue splotches.

  Now what?

  The ranch house had honey in the pantry. She turned the front doorknob, but her small stature didn’t have the weight to yank it open. Great.

  A soft breeze came from the patio. She’d left the door ajar a few inches, so she slipped through the crack, flew outside, and zoomed above the path to the front of the house.

  The windows had screens. The slider shut tight. She floated upwards and circled the place.

  An open vent on the rooftop. Please lead to the kitchen. She squeezed inside the vent and fell, wishing she’d thought to put on clothes because the metal felt cold on her butt as she plummeted, pushing through the bottom guard into a steamy room.

  Omph! She held out her hands and landed belly down on the tile floor and stared at a toilet, the sink, a foggy mirror.

  The bathroom.

  Water from the shower splashed. The glass door steamed with a man’s silhouette. She fluttered up to the top and peeked over the glass. A naked Rhett rinsed off shampoo. Suds flowed down his broad shoulders rippling with muscles.

  He turned and reached for a bar of soap, and she glimpsed his profile. Instead of figuring a way out of this mess, she dared to glance down at his narrow waist and check out his firm and sinewy buttocks. Her fingers longed to stroke his muscles to see if they were as firm as they appeared. Her pulse quickened. The thought of touching him made her insides quiver with anticipation.

  A foot-long red scar marred the perfection on his left shoulder. Fascinated, she wanted a closer look.

  “Hey, sweet girl,” his deep voice sang.

  Did he see her?

  “A-choo.” Her body shook.

  “Is someone out there?” He called out and turned off the water.

  Oh hades! She had to hide. Where?

  She fluttered to the farthest towel on the rack, furled her wings, flattened against the wall and hung onto the middle of the towel. The towel started sliding with her weight pulling it down. If she tried to open her wings, the towel would flutter.

  Rhett yanked the other towel. Hers tumbled to the floor, and she fell flat on her back. She snapped her lips together to keep from crying out in pain. At least the towel covered her.

  The door squeaked open.

  A sneeze tried to slip out, so she held her hand over her mouth and nose. Only a muffled, “Choo,” came as he closed the door. He must be gone, she peeked out from under the towel. No sight of him.

  She stood and sneezed again.

  Yellow dust particles floated and surrounded her. She turned back into a human, a naked human.

  Oh, my gosh! If she got caught here, she’d get fired. Wrapping a towel around her body, she yanked down a robe from the back of the door, rolled up the sleeves and tied the belt.

  Opening the door a crack, she peered out. Nobody in the living room.

  Should she wait a lit
tle longer? Never patient, she opted to go out. Even though the reaction seemed to settle itself, she’d better get that honey just in case she sneezed again. The floorboard creaked. She stopped. Her heart thumped hard and fast as she turned into the kitchen, opened the pantry, and grabbed the bottle of honey shaped like a bear from the second shelf. She tiptoed through the living room, heard snoring from one of the bedrooms, let out a soft sigh, turned the knob of the front door, and stepped out.

  The wooden planks on the porch hurt her feet. Against the wall, she spotted a pair of muddy boots. The boots came up to mid-thigh. Her feet swam inside them. Holding the sides of the robe up, she clomped down the steps and walked to her place.

  Outside her apartment, she yanked off the blasted boots, threw them over the railing to the ground, and rushed inside. Hot and sweaty, she went into the bathroom and splashed watered on her face.

  Beep-beep-beep. Her communicator flashed. “Darn it.” She’d left the device here this morning when she showered.

  She tapped her watch. Four messages.

  7:00 p.m.

  Miss Calypso, the council requests your presence in our chambers. Hold your finger on the flashing button.

  8:00 p.m.

  Why haven't you responded?

  8:30 p.m.

  Where are you? The council is waiting.

  9:00 p.m.

  Come to the council chambers.

  Really, now. Perfect end to an already dreadful night. Might as well get this over.

  She pressed the button. Pulled upwards at warp speed, she landed on the hard marble in her Cupid form wearing a twinkling white gown. Four solemn council members stared at her.

  “We’ve been trying to reach you.” The captain spoke, his lips curled down.

  “Um ... Serenity said to not get my communicator wet. I took it off when I showered and forgot to put it back on.”

  “See that you don't forget again,” Andre snapped. “What progress have you made since you arrived?”

  “Actually, I’ll be working a Valentine’s party tomorrow night. I will find Rhett’s soulmate there.”

  Andre folded his arms. “Do not fail. Your well-planned future is at stake.” He meant her presumed future with Zander. Everyone in the community assumed with their prestigious families and archery talents, their friendship would turn serious. Marriage was a logical step to unite the Eros and Calypso line.