To Tame a Texas Cowboy

by Julie Benson

  “Since Tucker’s the engineer, he’ll spearhead production, and we can video conference when needed,” Cooper said, hoping going into production would go as smoothly as what he said sounded.

  “I still can’t believe you’re moving to Wishing,” AJ said with a big grin on his face.

  “When Ty told me about the opportunity to buy Dr. King’s practice, it was too good to pass up.”

  “We’re the lucky ones,” Ty said. “Who knows how long the town would’ve gone without a vet if not for Coop? Most vets with experience aren’t crazy about moving to a small town, and young vets lack the funds to buy the practice.”

  Thankfully, Dr. King had been willing to negotiate. They’d settled on a down payment and a work-to-buy deal. It would take a while, but eventually Cooper would own the practice.

  “Can’t say I blame ’em for not wanting to move to a town of ten thousand,” Zane said.

  “We’re up to almost eleven thousand now,” AJ corrected.

  “Wow! Watch out Dallas. Here comes Wishing,” Zane joked, his voice filled with sarcasm. “Ten restaurants in town, only two of which serve alcohol, most females under thirty married, and almost two hours from Dallas. It’s a great place for a weekend visit, but live there? Twenty bucks says Coop will be going crazy in less than a month. Anyone in?” Zane said as he nodded to Ty and AJ.

  Cooper’s thoughts on Wishing couldn’t be further from Zane’s. He’d always loved the small town, its sense of community and family, the lake and all it offered for recreation, along with the slower pace. If that weren’t enough, Ty and AJ were there, too. Cooper smiled. After all these years they were more like family than friends. Hell, when he needed help, he went to them or Zane rather than his blood relations.

  Yup, he could see himself building a life in Wishing.

  “I don’t know,” Ty said. “Look at me and AJ. We’re living there and still have our faculties.”

  Zane scoffed. “That’s debatable.”

  “You’re on,” AJ said. “I say Cooper won’t have regrets.”

  “I agree,” Ty said.

  Cooper looked forward to the move. While he loved College Station, too much of the city reminded him of Olivia. They’d gone to college and made plans for their futures here. It was past time for him to move on and make his own life. He figured Wishing was a better place than most to start.

  *

  Cheyenne sank onto the worn floral couch beside her mother and inhaled deeply. Needing to be driven everywhere like she had before getting a driver’s license sucked. She knew moving in with her mom and younger sister wouldn’t be a barrel of laughs, but right now she’d settle for a chuckle. “Mom, could you drop me off at The Horseshoe Grill on your way to Bunco?”

  When her mother patted Cheyenne’s hand, she almost groaned. Not a good sign. The small action meant she’d get a lecture before her answer.

  “Are you sure going out tonight’s a good idea? After all, we had a big day going to Dallas for your neurologist appointment. I thought we’d watch a movie,” her mother said, concern filling her brown eyes and lining her face as she patted Cheyenne’s hand again.

  “Bunco was cancelled?” Cheyenne thought nothing short of a natural disaster of epic proportions could bring about that.

  “No, but missing once isn’t a big deal. We could both use a quiet night and getting to bed early.”

  In other words, her mom was skipping Bunco to stay on Cheyenne watch. Instead of giving in to her frustration, Cheyenne swallowed a half-dozen biting comments she’d regret and counted to ten instead.

  Seriously? A quiet night at home with her mother—a night like nearly every other since moving home after a seizure knocked her out of the barrel racing finals of the Oakdale Saddle Club Rodeo—was the last thing she needed.

  She could picture the night, with her mom seated on one end of the couch pretending to watch the movie, while really watching Cheyenne.

  What I need is to act like a twenty-seven-year-old, rather than a person about to stumble into an old-folks home.

  “I’ll be fine, Mom. I’m not tired, and I don’t want you to miss Bunco.”

  “Are you sure? I read on the internet that being tired and stress are two seizure triggers.”

  Then watch out. I could be heading for a big one if this conversation continues.

  “I appreciate all you’ve done for me.” Or at least the spirit and love behind her mother’s actions. “But your life can’t stop because of this.”

  Because of the benign tumor pressing against my brain causing my seizures.

  Simply thinking the words sent shock rippling through Cheyenne the way it had when she’d received the diagnosis.

  Speed bump, remember? Not roadblock. The plan was to control the seizures with medicine until she saw a neurosurgeon. Hopefully then, she’d learn the tumor could be removed, and she’d get on with her life. While this speed bump might put holes in her truck’s undercarriage, a good body shop could repair the damage, and she’d be good to go.

  Her mother scoffed. “Nonsense, it’s my job to help out in times like these. If you’re worried about being a burden, get that out of your head. When they handed you to me in the hospital, I said I’d be there for the good and the bad. I’ll do whatever necessary to help you through this.”

  By hovering, worrying, treating Cheyenne like a child, and killing her with kindness? Why couldn’t her mother see what she was doing? How her actions worked to steal what little independence the seizures hadn’t.

  Deciding to assert herself, Cheyenne said, “If you don’t want to drive me, I’ll call Aubrey. I just thought since you were going to Bunco, I’d ride along, but if you’re not going—”

  “Obviously you’re determined to go tonight no matter what I say.”

  You got that right. Cheyenne swallowed the comment and waited. She’d made her point and refused to back down.

  “Alright. I’ll go to Bunco and drop you off at The Horseshoe on the way to Marilyn’s house.”

  Ten minutes and two more “are you absolutely sure about this” questions later, they crawled into her mother’s practical white Camry and pulled out of the gravel driveway.

  “Remember, no alcohol. Like I said, some experts believe that triggers seizures.”

  Blasted internet. Possessing information could be good, but with her mother, more research fueled her concerns. Today, Cheyenne seemed in for the full-blown teenage warning lecture. After the alcohol, all that was missing were warnings about drugs and peer pressure.

  “I promise, nothing but sweet tea,” Cheyenne responded, her voice dutiful, despite her irritation.

  “I know Aubrey’s a nice girl, but she’s a little wild sometimes. I mean, she flunked out of college. I hear it was because she was too busy partying to study.”

  Yippee. They’d moved on to the peer pressure part of the lecture. “Mom, that’s not what happened. Aubrey chose to leave college. She took her allowance, invested it, and made a good amount of money.”

  “I’m not sure I believe that, but even so, Aubrey’s not always the best influence. I remember how much trouble you two used to get into.”

  Yeah, in middle school. I think we’ve matured some since then.

  Cheyenne glanced out the window, focusing on the giant rolls of hay dotting the fields. Cheyenne tensed as the Bankston place came into view, knowing what she’d see next—the town’s welcome sign. Welcome to Wishing, Texas, where wishes can come true. Proud home of two-time WPRA barrel racing finalist, Cheyenne Whitten.

  Her stomach roiled. When she’d returned, she should’ve headed straight to Rankin’s Hardware for white paint to cover that blasted sign. Then she wouldn’t be forced to face a billboard-size reminder of what should’ve been this year. She’d been at the top of her game, earning enough barrel racing to quit waitressing on the side, and on the rise in the Women’s Professional Rodeo Association standings. She’d set her sights on taking it all this year in the NPR Finals in Vegas. She’d been a s
trong, confident woman in control of her life.

  I will be that person again. It may take a while, but I’ll get there. I refuse to accept less.

  As her mother pulled into an open parking place on the town square, Cheyenne slung the leather purse strap over her shoulder preparing for a quick getaway. Once the car stopped, she reached for the door, but her mother’s hand clasped her arm. Calling on her last shred of patience, Cheyenne resisted the urge to pull away.

  “Promise me, if Aubrey has a drink, even one, you’ll call me to pick you up.”

  “Will do, Mom.” I’ve got it. Resist peer pressure. No drinking. Don’t ride with anyone who’s been drinking. How have you forgotten the drug warning?

  Her mother shuddered and nodded to the bump on Cheyenne’s forehead. Self-conscious she brushed her hair over the spot. “If I hadn’t been there, or if I hadn’t caught you when you collapsed, I can’t imagine how bad you would’ve been hurt.”

  The problem, Mom, is you can, and you blow all the possibilities into a major tragedy ending with my death.

  Another two minutes of reassurances and Cheyenne finally left the car. As she stood on Throckmorton Street, she glanced around the town square. Though she’d moved away after high school, little around Wishing had changed. The big city hall presided in the square of grass and trees. Four streets, Throckmorton, Crockett, San Jacinto, and Guadalupe, surrounded the government building. Tourist shops had come and gone, becoming more artsy and new age instead of antique shops, but Rankin’s Hardware and the Piggly Wiggly remained.

  Thankfully, the economy was thriving. Good news if she wanted to find another job to avoid dipping into her savings. Since she’d been on her own, she’d lived in small, cheap motels or small apartments to save money. Her father’s death taught her a career in the rodeo could be over in a flash, and she needed to be prepared with a backup plan.

  Cheyenne considered the job possibilities. Wishes and Dreams sold local artisans’ wares, hand-crafted jewelry, and pottery. Considering the damage she’d done when she suffered a seizure waiting tables at The Horseshoe, she crossed the high-end shop off her list, along with the other restaurants in town.

  Dress Like a Dream and Margaret’s, the local ladies’ boutiques, were prospects. Then she laughed. She could pick out a good pair of boots, but other than that, why would anyone want her working at their clothing store? Working at the hardware or feed store would be more her style. Having reached The Horseshoe, she brushed aside her job issues for later. Tonight was about having fun.

  The front door opened and the Talbot sisters stepped outside. The two elderly women couldn’t be more opposite. The older sibling, Miss Betty, dressed in a simple pair of navy slacks, a print blouse, and coordinating green cardigan, looked every bit the genteel Southern lady she was. On the other hand, Cheyenne couldn’t remember Miss Gloria wearing anything but jeans and cowboy boots. Tonight, she wore a Texas Rangers jersey with those staples.

  “Why, Cheyenne Whitten. It’s good to see you, though I should be miffed since you haven’t come to visit,” Miss Betty said, enveloping Cheyenne in her warm embrace. The woman’s Chanel No. 5 encircled her as completely as her arms. Of all the people in town, Betty and her husband Joe, when he was alive, had been the proudest of her success.

  “I’m sorry, Miss Betty. It’s just—” Words clogged Cheyenne’s throat as memories tumbled through her mind. Mr. Joe teaching her to saddle a horse and them sitting on the big porch having Miss Betty’s chocolate drop cookies and sweet tea afterward.

  Compassion filled Miss Betty’s wise blue eyes when she released Cheyenne. “There’s no need to explain. Just know I’m praying for you. Gloria and I both are. Come over and we’ll have tea. I’ll even make your favorite chocolate drop cookies, and I promise we won’t pester you with questions.”

  Cheyenne bit her lip to keep from tearing up. “I’d like that.”

  “We asked Gabe about you, but he said you don’t work at The Horseshoe anymore,” Miss Gloria said.

  “Were there repercussions from the unfortunate incident?”

  Unfortunate incident? Leave it to Miss Betty to describe Cheyenne suffering a seizure and dropping a food tray laden in such delicate terms.

  “You and your polite questions, Sister. Did he fire you or not, Cheyenne? Because if he did, I have choice words for him,” Gloria said, her stance braced, and her arms crossed over her ample chest. Her appearing ready to do battle left Cheyenne incredibly touched.

  “Leaving was my decision.” Then not wanting to see the concern in the older ladies’ eyes turn to pity, Cheyenne thanked for them for their concern and prayers, and nodded toward The Horseshoe’s front door. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m meeting Aubrey for dinner.”

  When she turned to leave, a hand rested on her arm. She turned to face Miss Betty. “If there’s anything we can do, let me know, and I mean anything.”

  This time biting her lip failed to keep Cheyenne from getting teary eyed at the love and generosity shinning in Miss Betty’s gaze as she ducked inside The Horseshoe. Once there, she stood for a moment to regain her control and let her eyes adjust to the dim atmosphere. The sounds of families and friends sharing a meal, most of whom she’d known her entire life, surrounded her, mixing with the Zac Brown Band’s latest release coming from the ceiling speakers.

  Cheyenne scanned the room searching for Aubrey, and winced, noticing regulars who’d been here a couple weeks ago when she’d suffered her seizure. She’d always loved this place with its simple, worn and nicked wooden tables and serviceable chairs. The saddles, rope, and neon beer signs for décor so Texas comfortable, but now all she saw was what greeted her when she came out of her seizure. Burgers, chicken fried steak, and mashed potatoes scattered around her amid broken dishes, french fries in her hair, people hovered over her, their gazes filled with panic and shock.

  When Cheyenne asked Aubrey to meet her for dinner, she never considered going anywhere but The Horseshoe. Of course, in Wishing there weren’t many choices. But more importantly, Cheyenne refused to lose their favorite hangout and the best food in town because of her health. She would hold onto what she could. Damn tumor couldn’t take everything from her.

  Forcing back her embarrassment, she spotted Aubrey at a table on the far wall near the bar. Cheyenne squared her shoulders and started navigating the maze. Before getting ten feet, she ran into Mrs. De Moss, her junior year English teacher. Cheyenne smiled, nodded in greeting, and tried to sidestep the woman.

  “Cheyenne Whitten, don’t you walk past without saying hello.”

  Cheyenne froze and plastered a smile on her face despite the tightness in her chest. “It’s good to see you, Mrs. De Moss.”

  “I know your mom is glad to have you home, but it’s too bad health problems were the reason. It’s hard when a child moves away and isn’t able to stay in touch the way a mother would like.”

  And the fact that when they did talk, they argued over Cheyenne’s career choice hadn’t helped either. Not that she blamed her mother. Cheyenne becoming a barrel racer after her father died competing in the rodeo had been difficult for her mother. She couldn’t understand how her daughter could put her through that kind of fear and worry, and whenever they talked, she tried to convince Cheyenne to come home where she’d be safe.

  What her mother failed to realize was Cheyenne didn’t have other career choices.

  After leaving Mrs. De Moss, Cheyenne navigated past two more tables before spotting another of her mother’s friends. She dodged right, only to run into a friend of her father and repeat the previous conversation.

  She flinched at the familiar look of pity mixed with curiosity. Her high school insecurities, the ones she swore she’d overcome or at least buried since she’d earned her GED, gnawed at her.

  Cheyenne inhaled deeply. Speed bump. Not roadblock. Remember?

  When she joined Aubrey and sank in the chair beside her friend, she sighed in frustration. “Next time I go anywhere, the minute I walk in
I’m making a public announcement. I’ll update everyone on my health and what I plan to do with my life. Then I’ll issue a polite thank-you for everyone’s concern and prayers. Done. It’ll be simpler to deal with everyone at once.” And less painful.

  “The joys of small-town living. That was one thing I loved about college. I could go anywhere, and other than an occasional classmate, I didn’t see anyone I knew. There was a freedom I can’t get here.”

  Cheyenne nodded. “I thought the same thing on the circuit.”

  Before she could comment further, their waitress, Vicki, a gum-chewing, no-holds-barred woman arrived to take their orders.

  “Seeing you two takes me back.” These days, Vicki possessed more wrinkles around her eyes when she smiled, but other than that she hadn’t changed. “Also makes me realize how long I’ve been at The Horseshoe.”

  “The place wouldn’t be the same without you,” Cheyenne said.

  Vicki patted Cheyenne’s hand. “I’m glad what happened here hasn’t kept you from coming back.”

  Even though Vicki meant her words to be comforting, Cheyenne winced. “At least I livened up everyone’s night.”

  “It caused a stir because people care about you,” the waitress insisted. “Now what can I get you?”

  Cheyenne and Aubrey placed their orders and after the waitress left, Cheyenne asked, “Was it hard for you coming back after you left college?”

  Aubrey nodded, sending her blonde hair tumbling over her shoulders. “It was weird how the town changed, and yet it hadn’t. A lot of people I knew went to college and moved away, but those who stayed and the town itself were the same.”

  “I know.” Cheyenne had lost contact with everyone from high school except Aubrey. When she’d left Wishing, she’d wanted to forget what life had been like after her father’s death, her disastrous senior year, and most of all, her mother’s nagging to find a “nice young man” to provide for her, because she couldn’t dream of providing for herself without a high school diploma.

  She’d left and built a future for herself. One that was wide open for the first time in her life. Or so she’d thought.