by Clay, Verna
Sage helped Sarah out of the truck and when he reached for her crutches, the bull mooed and bucked and the lights flashed. Sarah shrieked and grabbed his shoulder. Immediately, she jerked back. "Oh, jeez, I'm so sorry. That thing caught me by surprise. I didn't expect it to talk and move."
Sage almost couldn't stop laughing. "Hey, you're not the first person taken by surprise." He handed her crutches to her. "Tonight will be great research for your book. Did you bring a tablet?" He was only joking, but when she patted her purse and nodded, he choked and pretended to cough so she wouldn't think he was making fun of her.
Inside, he was greeted by the Barn crew, who knew him well because of all the dudes he brought. Sally, a leggy waitress in skin tight Levis and a push up bra under a black tank top, the uniform of all the waitresses, led them to their reserved tables draped with red and white checkered plastic tablecloths. Their spot was in the farthest corner from the stage because it afforded a good view of the band, the bar, the pool table, the dance floor, but also allowed for a semblance of conversation. Sage pulled out a chair for Sarah. Of course, the twins flanked him again. In their skin fitting black jeans, red stiletto boots and red satin cowboy shirts unbuttoned far enough to allow an excellent show of cleavage, every cowboy in close proximity was moseying over to check out the view.
"What'll ya'll have?" Sally drawled and winked at Sage. They had gone to high school together and Sally had been one of Marylou's bridesmaids. Although he knew the town speculated as to whether he and Sally had ever had a "thing" after Marylou's death, they never had. Sally was a good friend. Besides, she'd always had a "thing" for Howard, another high school friend. Long ago, Howard had left their small town, but Sally still carried a torch for him and practically swooned whenever he stopped by the Barn on one of his rare visits.
"The beers on me," Sage announced. "Anything else and it's your dime. Beaner and I are the designated drivers, so we don't drink. Have a great night!"
"I'll have a Bud," Mr. Hackstetter said absently to his wife while text messaging. Even Boot Bustin' Barn couldn't get him to pocket the damn phone. His wife gave him a hurt look. Sage suddenly had an inspiration and motioned to Sally. When she leaned down, he put his mouth close to her ear and gave instructions. She stood and didn't even bat an eyelash, but the twinkle in her eyes said she understood and agreed.
The band walked onto the raised platform of what was jokingly called a stage. Next to the dance floor, someone climbed onto the coin-operated mechanical bull, and Sage watched Sarah's delighted expression as the thing went wild while the cowboy held the reins with one hand and his Stetson above his head with the other.
In the midst of the mayhem, the band called, 1-2-3-4 and struck the chords to a shit-kickin' tune. Sally expertly wielded a large round tray with pitchers of beer through cowboys and cowgirls dashing to the dance floor. She reached their table and set a Bud in front of Mr. Hackstetter and a pitcher in the center along with iced mugs. She unloaded her other pitcher and mugs at the next table before heading back to the bar for more. Mindy and Mandy were already sloshing beer into their glasses and Sarah's too.
Both girls were chugging ale when two lanky cowboys approached, hats in hand, asking for a dance. Mindy grabbed the arm of one cowboy and Mandy grabbed the arm of the other. Sage grinned when they wiggled their curvy butts away from him. Freedom.
He glanced at Sarah and dropped his jaw. She actually had a notepad out and was scribbling as fast as she could. He decided to have a little fun. "Sarah, have you tried your beer yet?"
"I don't drink."
"Come on, Sarah; cowboy up. Don't tell me you've come this far with your research not to follow through. You can't have a shit-kickin' time without drinkin' a little beer."
She studied his face, seemingly pondering his words. "I guess you're right." Delicately, she picked up her mug and sipped. "It doesn't taste very good, does it?"
He laughed, "I suppose that depends on who's doing the tasting." Surprised, he watched her try another sip.
"Maybe it will grow on me."
Sage turned his attention to the cowboy approaching Mrs. Hackstetter. Jackson Martinez, the blond foreman of Triple T Ranch, was known to have a way with the women. Politely, he grinned and asked her to dance. After a quick glance at her husband, she shook her head no. Jackson looked disappointed and started to turn away when she changed her mind. She accepted his hand and followed him to the dance floor where he proceeded to teach her the current moves. Sage glanced at Mr. Hackstetter. He looked like he'd just swallowed a hot coal. Jackson got real close to Mrs. Hackstetter and she giggled like a school girl.
Sage glanced back at Sarah and did a double-take; a third of her beer was gone and she was still sipping. The song ended and a new one began. Jackson walked Mrs. Hackstetter back to her chair and gave her a sexy, bedroom look. She'd barely sat down when another cowboy asked her to dance. She didn't even hesitate to show off her new moves.
Unfortunately, the M and M gals returned and pulled Sage from his chair, determined to dance with him. Because refusing would only cause a scene and probably make the sisters all the more determined, he allowed himself to be dragged to the floor. Oh boy, he was once again an M and M sandwich, only this time it was on the dance floor of Boot Bustin' Barn. Sally dodged dancers while carrying her tray and he sent her a pleading look. She only shook her head. He could read her mind. I'm too busy; you're on your own. Mindy and Mandy snaked their bodies up against his and he looked over to see Sarah had emptied her mug.
* * *
Sarah's head felt fuzzy. She kinda liked the feeling. At least it numbed the bad feelings she was having toward Mindy and Mandy as she watched them put the moves on Sage. She didn't want to feel jealous, but she did. When she tried to write on her notepad, her fingers wouldn't grip the pencil. Finally, she gave up and looked at Mr. Hackstetter. Jeez, what was his first name, Jerry, Jerrod, Jerk; something that started with a "J". But since everyone called him Mr. Hackstetter, she decided she would too. He had that "Mister" look about him. Actually, he looked kinda nerdy—nerdy and mad. She followed his gaze. Mrs. Hackstetter looked happy in the arms of a cute cowboy. Sarah wished her fingers worked so she could write down all this great research.
The song ended and a slow one started. Even though Mindy and Mandy tried to get Sage to slow dance with both of them at the same time, he shook his head and came back to their table. Another cowboy quickly stepped up to the girls and seemed delighted with their version of slow dancing.
Sage sat beside her. "So, Sarah, have you changed your mind about the taste of beer?"
"Maybe yes, maybe no, Cowboy." She couldn't believe she'd just said that.
Sage chuckled. "I think you're tending toward the 'yes' side."
* * *
Sage pulled his truck in front of his house. "Sarah, we're home." He gently nudged her shoulder. She'd slumped against the passenger door shortly after leaving the Barn and occasionally filled the cab with unladylike snores. He came around to her side of the truck and opened the door, catching her as she tumbled out.
"Eeek!" she squealed and grabbed his vest front. "Is it time for another beer?"
Sage chuckled, "No Sarah, I think your beer drinking days are over. You turn into a lush after a few sips."
"Yes, I know my blush is quite fetching."
It took a second for Sage to understand what she was talking about and then he busted out laughing. "Sarah, you are the most entertaining woman I've met in years. Come on, let's get you to bed." He reached under her knees and lifted her into his arms. She was heavier than the skinny models he posed with and the occasional one-night stand he allowed himself to keep his frustration level manageable. She felt good. Her busty bosom rubbed his chest. She'd loosened the strings of her peasant blouse earlier when the Barn had become stiflingly hot. The M and M girls had nothing on her in the "stacked" department.
On the porch, he stood her upright and leaned her against the wall next to the door. She swayed and he reache
d to catch her.
"Whoops," she giggled, and tightened her grip on his vest, pulling him close.
"Mims, I'm trying to open the door. You're going to have to let go." She let go and started to topple again. He grabbed her shoulders and pressed her against the wall. "Now what are we going to do. I can't open the door if I'm holding you up."
"I guess you're in a pickle," she slurred.
Sage laughed low and glanced down at her breasts straining over the top of her blouse. She'd already made him hard, but now he became painfully so. "I've got to get you to bed." Bad choice of words. "I need a little help here," he whispered in her ear. Another bad choice of words.
Mims moved her head until her lips hovered above his. "Okay, gorgeous model man."
Sage couldn't catch his breath. Her lips, barely grazing his, shifted the clutch in his heart and knocked it into high gear. Slowly, she put more pressure against his mouth. He didn't move. For a long time, they just stood lips to lips. Finally, she opened her palms against his chest and rubbed from his pecs to his abs and back again, sending his body into arousal heaven. He touched his tongue to her lips. She moaned and opened her mouth. Reaching and pulling her arms around his neck, he kissed and licked his way from her mouth to the tops of her straining breasts.
"Oh God," she whispered, pressing against him and entwining her fingers in his hair. He lifted his head and captured her mouth again, holding nothing back. When he broke away, she said, "You smell like sunshine." Her unexpected remark jostled him and he lifted away from her, guilt flooding him. He'd taken advantage of her imbibed state. He groaned and looked into her up-tilted face.
"Princess, I think we just crossed the bounds of ranch owner and ranch guest…not something I'm proud of. Let's get you inside."
Chapter 11: Morning Regrets
Sarah jammed the pillow over her head, but she could still hear noise. Her cotton brain finally recognized the sound as knocking. "Go away," she mumbled. The knocking stopped and she sighed with relief. She heard the door squeak and squinted to look at it. Julie peeked around the edge.
"Are you feeling okay, Sarah?" the girl timidly asked.
Sarah's mind tried to get a grasp on reality. "What day is it?"
"Sunday."
"What time?"
"Almost noon."
Sarah jolted upright. She never slept late. The movement sent her head whipping like a roller coaster. "Ouch." She pressed her palms to her temples and fell back against her pillow. "Am I sick," she asked.
Julie laughed, "Not unless you consider a hangover sick."
A hangover! Suddenly, the previous night tumbled into remembrance—steak dinner, bucking bull, sawdust covered dance floor, live country band, beer… She groaned and turned her face into her pillow again. What kind of example was she setting for this impressionable girl? Another memory surfaced and her eyes popped wide open. Please, God, let it be a dream. In her mind's eye, she envisioned passionate kisses on the porch, hands and mouths in erotic zones, and Sage's face. She covered her face with her hands.
"My dad said you'd probably be a little upset when you woke up. He didn't tell me why. Can I get you anything?"
Sarah shook her head, not lifting her hands from her face. "I'm fine, Julie," she lied and mumbled behind her palms.
"Dad said I should give you some orange juice."
Sarah peeked through her fingers and noticed the glass in Julie's hand. She croaked, "Please, set it on the nightstand. Thank you. I need some time…to get dressed." She'd been about to say "alone," but didn't want to hurt Julie's feelings.
Julie seemed to understand. "Okay. I'll check on you later."
Sarah heard the door close and blinked rapidly to cap a gush of tears threatening to erupt like a geyser. I will not cry. I will not cry. I will not cry. A loner slipped through her resolve and she swiped at it. Sniffing, she gingerly moved her legs over the side of the bed and grasped her spinning head. I will never drink beer again. Holding onto furniture, she grappled her way to the bathroom and sat on the side of the tub, removing the wrapping from her foot. Thank God she was still wearing last night's outfit—minus her vest and boot, however. The hot shower seemed to help her massive headache.
At issue now was how to leave the ranch without facing Sage. She didn't want to hurt Julie by abruptly flying the coop, but her desire to avoid Sage outweighed even that resolve. Her stay at Lazy M Dude Ranch had forever cured her of hands-on research. From now on, research would take her only as far as her laptop and the internet.
She returned to the bedroom and tentatively sipped her orange juice. It stayed down. Feeling strong enough to get dressed, she pulled on a pair of turquoise slacks and matching shell. While she was sitting on the bed attempting to rewrap her foot, she heard another knock. Thinking it was Julie, she called, "Come in."
Sage opened the door. Sarah glanced up from fastening the hook on the wrap and almost fell on the floor. He started toward her and she jerked a staying hand at him. He stopped.
Her mouth moved, but no words came out.
He said, "How are you feeling?"
She still couldn't find her voice.
He glanced at the glass of orange juice she'd set back on the nightstand. "The juice will help."
Sarah knew he was saying anything to fill the awkwardness. "I'm leaving," she finally voiced.
Sage leaned against the door frame. "You mean running, don't you?"
She gaped at him and then resorted to a teenage response, "Whatever."
"You know, Sarah, nothing happened. It was only a little kiss."
She remembered the expertise of his mouth. Yeah, right.
He continued, "Look, I'll make a deal with you because I'd hate for you to miss the wagon train next week and all that great research…I'll move you to the dorm today. That way you won't have to be around me as much." Again, he paused. "Sarah, I'm really sorry. I never get involved with my guests. I take full responsibility. You were a little…imbibed…and appealing. I lost my head."
Sarah honed in on one word—appealing. He thought she was appealing. What a crock. Now she was even more determined to leave and her face must have mirrored her resolve.
Sage stepped into the room, angry. "You don't believe me, do you? You think I'm full of horseshit…just flattering you so you'll stay and not ask for a refund. Lady, you are a piece of work. I've bent over backwards to make up for my screw up in New York, and now I'm doing the same thing for my screw up last night. You know, I think you just don't like men. Sure, you write your novels about dashing heroes, but real-life men have no place in your world. You need to see a shrink, Mims."
Sarah couldn't move. She either wanted to lash a retort or run from the room, but neither her legs, nor her mouth worked, so she just stared wide-eyed at him. He didn't budge. Finally, the only body part that worked, were her tear ducts. Big fat drops welled and rolled down her cheeks.
"Aw shit. I can't do anything right." He strode across the room and knelt in front of her. Placing his hands over hers, he said gently, "Look, I don't want you to leave. I want you to finish your research. At least stay for the wagon train. It'll be fun and you'll learn a lot about the Old West. I promise I'll behave and try not to have foot-in-mouth disease again. If you leave now, we'll both feel like shit." He reached a hand toward her face, but it only hovered a second before he dropped it. Standing, he walked to the bathroom and grabbed a wad of Kleenex. Pressing the tissues into her palm, he said low, "Will you give me another chance, please Sarah?"
Sarah inhaled a shuddering breath. He may be a jerk, but he was a nice one, and he was right about one thing, she'd feel like shit. She knew he was exaggerating about himself, but for her, it was not an exaggeration. She needed to leave this ranch on good terms. If she didn’t, it would haunt her. Slowly she nodded.
He whooshed, "That's my girl."
Sarah wanted to glare at him for the endearment, but she didn't have the courage.
"Do you think you'll be ready to move to the dorm by l
ate afternoon?"
She nodded again.
* * *
Julie helped Sarah pack the last of her belongings. Closing the small carry case she'd placed toiletries in, she carried it from the bathroom to the bedroom. "Hey, Sarah, looks like you almost don't need crutches anymore."
Sarah glanced up from fastening a large suitcase on her bed. "Uh, what did you say?"
Julie repeated herself. All day Sarah had seemed preoccupied. Maybe she didn't want to leave the house. Whatever was wrong, it had put a sad expression on her face. She looked like she'd been crying.
Sarah finally responded, "Oh yeah, another day or so and–"
There was a knock on the door halting their stilted conversation. Julie saw Sarah get an almost panicked look. What the heck is going on? When Sarah didn't say anything, Julie asked, "Do you want me to get the door? It's probably Dad or someone to help carry your things."
"Umm…yes, please." Sarah turned her back to the door and fiddled with the suitcase latch again.
Julie opened the door to her dad and Newt. She saw her dad glance quickly at Sarah's back. Even he looked weird. He looked at Julie. "Are you ready?" he asked cheerfully.
Julie knew it was forced cheerfulness. She scratched her head. "Yep, looks like everything's packed."
"Great. Newt, why don't you grab that suitcase?" He pointed to the one on the floor. "Julie, carry what you've got, and I'll grab the other one." He looked at the one Sarah was fiddling with.
When he walked toward the bed, Sarah stepped aside, seemingly entranced with the carpet. Julie glanced at Newt. He only gave a slight shrug, reading the question in her eyes. What's going on? She waited for the room to clear and then followed behind Sarah who was carrying her crutches and not using them. A sudden thought popped into her head. Do my dad and Sarah have a thing for each other? Her dad opened the front door and she studied his expression. She saw him cast a quick glance at Sarah. Dang, he does have a thing for her! I can't believe it. Wow, cool! By the way she's acting, she must like him too. Cool…cool…cool!
