Cowboy Courage

by Carolyn Brown

  Rose almost stumbled over Chester when he ran across the room. “Dammit!”

  “Sorry, but that’s the way it is.” Echo giggled.

  “I wasn’t talking to you. Chester just about tripped me,” Rose explained. “But don’t you sometimes wish you could control Daddy—just a little bit.”

  Echo laughed out loud. “I’m not sure anyone, including Paul O’Malley, can get that job done. Maybe you need to get out of the forest so you can see the trees. Come home for a few days or weeks. Get a fresh perspective on things.”

  “I’ll be coming that way soon as Aunt Molly gets back,” Rose said.

  “I can hardly wait,” Echo told her. “But right now I should go out to the kitchen and get the chocolate cakes made for supper. I love you, Cactus Rose.”

  “Love you,” Rose said as she ended the call.

  That word, home, stuck in her mind. She’d read that home is where the heart is, so where was it located?

  “Well, it’s damn sure not in a place where they call me Cactus,” she muttered.

  * * *

  Rose wore the same cowboy boots that she’d worn the night they’d gone square dancing. She brushed them off with a tissue, pulled on a pair of skinny jeans, and topped them off with a form-fitted shirt that had lots of black lace inserts. She spent a little extra time on her makeup and curled her long hair. Then she put the boots on, and was all the way to the bottom of the stairs when she heard Hud’s knock.

  When she opened the door, Hud said, “Well, dammit! I left my handcuffs at home.”

  “Why would you need cuffs?” she asked.

  “Because it’s a crime to look that good, sweetheart,” he replied. “I’ll be the luckiest cowboy at the Rusty Spur.”

  “I’ve got cuffs if you don’t mind pink velvet,” she teased.

  Hud’s eyes just about popped right out of his head. “Are you serious?”

  “I do keep a few secrets.” She handed him her jacket and winked.

  He helped her get it on and then escorted her out to the truck with his hand on her lower back. When he opened the door for her, he asked, “What other secrets have you got hidden away?”

  “It would take a lifetime to tell you all of them.” She hopped into the passenger seat and fastened her seat belt. “Do you have secrets?”

  “A few, but I’d like to make a bunch more with you.” He shut the door and whistled all the way around the front end of the truck.

  He’d left the engine running, so the headlights lit up the way he filled out those snug jeans. Beneath his suede jacket he wore a light green western shirt with pearl snaps. Her fingers longed to start at the top of his throat and pull hard enough that all the snaps popped open one by one. Or better yet, undo them slowly one at a time and run her hands through the soft brown hair on his chest. By the time he got behind the wheel, her wild imagination had her wishing that she really did own velvet handcuffs.

  “How far is it to the Rusty Spur?” she asked.

  “Not far,” he answered. “Maybe ten minutes. Tell me one of your secrets on the way.”

  “Only if you tell me one of yours first,” she told him.

  “Fair enough. This isn’t really a secret, but no one would believe me, so it kind of is the same thing. You are the first woman I’ve ever taken to a honky-tonk,” he said.

  “Good lord, Hud!” It was her turn to go all buggy eyed. “Are you serious?”

  He raised a hand. “As serious and as sober as a judge. I usually go with the guys. Sometimes, I get lucky and go home with a lady, or take one home with me. I’m not a saint, Rose.”

  “I haven’t located any wings or a halo, so I wasn’t thinking you were,” she said.

  “Now your turn,” he said.

  “All right, but it’s a big secret,” she whispered. “I’m not a saint, either. That said, though, I don’t do one-night stands. If there’s not a possibility of some kind of future with a guy, I don’t lead him on.”

  “That’s pretty honest,” he said with a nod, “and you may not be a saint, but I swear I can see a halo above your head tonight, so you must be an angel.”

  “If I am, it’s a honky-tonk angel,” she said. “Hey, Elvis Presley sang about that, I think.”

  “Are you going to be my honky-tonk angel tonight?” Hud pulled into a gravel parking lot with a metal building set at the back of the property.

  She’d lived in Texas as a teenager and in her travels, she’d seen lots of honky-tonks, and after she’d enlisted, she’d even been in a few. But the old rustic building in front of her looked more like something she’d seen in the movies with its swinging doors and a wide front porch with a hitching rail.

  “This is the Rusty Spur?” she asked.

  “Yep, disappointed?” he asked.

  “No, just surprised.” She unfastened her seat belt. “What’s it look like inside?”

  “Rather than tell you, I’ll show you, but promise me that you’ll save the last dance for me.” He turned the engine off.

  “Every dance belongs to you,” she told him, “unless you want to dance with another woman.”

  “No way, darlin’. I’ve got the most beautiful girl in Texas with me tonight, and I’m spending all the time I can with her.” He got out of the truck and came around to open her door.

  She looped her arm into his, and they crossed the parking lot together. “Well, I do believe I’m with the sexiest cowboy in all of Texas.”

  “Awww, shucks.” He grinned as he paid the man at the door the entry fee for both of them.

  A dozen barstools lined up in front of a long, shiny bar to her right that stretched from one end of the building to the other. Bottles of liquor on shelves lined the wall behind it, and there were two beer stations, one on either end.

  She tiptoed so she could talk to Hud above the loud jukebox music. “Now, this is a honky-tonk.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I’ve been to bars and clubs, but nothing like this,” she said above the noise of a full house. Only one table was empty among the half a dozen lining the far walls. At least twenty people were on the sawdust-covered floor, doing a line dance to “Boot Scootin’ Boogie” by Brooks & Dunn.

  He helped her out of her jacket and hung it on the back of a chair and did the same with his coat. Then he held out his hand. “May I have this dance, ma’am.”

  Blake Shelton’s “God Gave Me You” started to play when she put her hand in his, and he twirled her around once before he brought her back to his chest. With one hand on his shoulder and the other tucked into his hand, she was amazed that she could keep up with his smooth moves.

  “This is my song to you, tonight,” Hud whispered. “Like the words say, I really need you to stay beside me as the storms blow through.”

  She looked up into his green eyes. “Well, honey, we sure have had some storms already, haven’t we?”

  He sang along when the lyrics said that God had given her to him for the ups and downs. She made up her mind right there on the dance floor that she was going to walk down the aisle to that song when and if she ever got married.

  The next one up on the jukebox was “Walk Me Down the Middle” by The Band Perry. It was slower than the previous tune and talked about being a misfit. When she got to go to public school, her daddy still had strict rules. She hadn’t been allowed to wear makeup. She wasn’t permitted to have a cell phone or even a phone at home to talk to friends. She had to dress modestly. Jeans and shirts were fine, but none of that had intimidated her. She was like a free bird out in the big wide world, and she had a lot to discover.

  “Would you do that—walk me down the middle of the county fair?” Rose asked.

  “Darlin’, I’d walk you anywhere you want to go and be proud to hold your hand for the whole world to see,” he vowed.

  The look in his eyes told her that he was telling the truth, and she felt like she was floating on air for the rest of the night.

  * * *

  It was past m
idnight when Hud walked Rose to the door of the B&B. True to her word, she’d danced only with him all evening, and between times, she’d held hands with him across the table.

  “I’m too wired up to sleep.” She turned back to him when she’d unlocked the door. “Want to come in for a cup of hot chocolate, and maybe some doughnuts? I think there’s some of those little white powdered ones left. Aunt Luna was partial to them.”

  “Love to,” he said.

  She stepped inside, dropped her coat on a ladder-back chair in the foyer, and headed to the kitchen. “I never learned to cook, but I can make a mean cup of hot chocolate.”

  “Are you hungry?” He followed behind her.

  “Starving,” she said. “I was too nervous to eat supper.”

  “Why were you nervous? Got news from Aunt Luna?” he asked.

  “Nope.” She shook her head. “I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

  He wrapped his arms around her. “I’ve got a confession. I was afraid of the same thing. I worried more about what shirt to wear tonight than I ever have before. I played through dozens of scenarios in my head—from what would I do if some other cowboy swept you off your feet, to how would I react if you hated the Rusty Spur and never wanted to talk to me again.”

  “I didn’t know guys even thought like that.” She tiptoed and kissed him—long and lingering.

  When the kiss ended, he took a step back. “Darlin’, very many more of those and we’ll burn this house down with the heat, which I got to say, wouldn’t be a bad way to go.”

  He went to the refrigerator and brought out peppers, cheese, eggs, and sausage.

  “Instead of hot chocolate, I’ll make a pot of coffee.” She bent over to get the container from the bottom shelf of the fridge. There was her perfectly rounded butt, only a few inches him, and he had a carton of eggs in one hand and a block of cheese in the other. Sometimes a cowboy just couldn’t win.

  When he’d finished making the omelets, they sat down at the small kitchen table. “Why didn’t you ever learn to cook?” he asked.

  “It was my one act of rebellion. I liked going to school, and didn’t even mind Mama homeschooling me, but I didn’t want to live in the commune. So when all the other girls went with the women to the kitchen to learn how to cook, I’d run off to the woods and study my languages,” she told him between bites.

  “How? Did you have books for that?” Hud took a sip of coffee, made just to his taste—strong and black.

  “No, I actually had a CD player. Of course, I wasn’t allowed to use it for vanity—like music—but I had the CDs for different languages. When we lived on the beach and down near the bayou, Mama learned a couple with me, during my homeschooling lessons, but Daddy didn’t like it so much, so she quit,” Rose answered.

  “How many did you learn?” Hud asked.

  “Seven, plus English.” She buttered a second piece of toast and then smeared grape jelly on it. “No, six. I learned Farsi after I got into the army. I know seven now and, of course, English makes eight.” Her eyes twinkled. “Unless you count Kentucky Redneck as a language. If so, that would make nine.”

  He chuckled. “I guess that means you can cuss me out seven ways to Sunday, and I won’t know what you’re sayin’.”

  “You’ll know by the tone.” She stood up and held out her hand. “Let’s go to the living room. I’ll take care of the cleanup later. My feet hurt from so much dancing. I’m going to kick off my shoes and—”

  He took her hand in his and kissed the palm, then scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the living room. He put her down on one end of the sofa, and removed her shoes, then he sat on the other end and put both her feet in his lap. He picked up the left one and began to gently massage her heel and slowly moved up to the ball of her foot.

  Rose moaned. “That feels so good.”

  When he finished with that foot, he kissed it, then met her gaze and slowly crawled up her body until he was lying on top of her. His lips came down on hers in a long, hard kiss. One led to another until they were both breathless.

  “What are we doing, Rose? Where is this headed?” he asked.

  “We’re making out, and I was thinking that we’d move it up to my bedroom and get out those handcuffs you’ve been thinkin’ about all night,” she teased.

  He propped up on his elbows. “You’ve really got cuffs?”

  “No, but, honey, I don’t think that we’ll need any kinky stuff.” She wiggled her way out from under him and led him across the floor. On the first step she stopped to unsnap his shirt in one easy motion. He was already about to break the zipper in his jeans, and when she ran her hands over his chest, he groaned out loud.

  She moved up a couple of steps. He placed one of his boots on the first step, making her lips and his on the same level. While he smothered her with more kisses, he unfastened her shirt and cupped a breast in his hand. God, she felt so good.

  “Sweet lord,” she muttered when he removed her shirt and bra and kissed both breasts. By the time they reached the top of the stairs, they were both naked and Hud was on fire.

  “Which one is your bedroom?” He pushed her hair back with his hands, cupped her cheeks, and stared into her eyes.

  She took him by the hand and led him across the hallway to a bedroom. Moonlight flowed through the window at the head of the bed, giving him just enough light to see her expressions.

  He laid her on the bed. “You are so beautiful, Rose. I dreamed for years about this night, but never thought it would happen.”

  “I’ve ached for you,” she said. “Take me, please.”

  “Got to get out some protection,” he said.

  “I’ve started taking the pill,” she told him as she pulled him even closer.

  He entered her and they began to work together in a perfect rhythm. He brought her to the edge of a climax, then slowed down, kissing her neck, her ears, her eyelids all the while. He wanted to last a long time, but things sped up so fast that he finally whispered her name in a hoarse Texas drawl, and then collapsed on her for a few seconds.

  “Sweet Jesus!” she moaned.

  “I’m sorry it didn’t last longer.” He rolled to the side but kept her in his arms. She pulled the chenille bedspread up around them, creating a cocoon where only the two of them existed.

  “One more second and there would have been nothing left of us but bones and ashes. That was…no words. Just feeling and it was amazing.” She cuddled up closer to his side and closed her eyes. “Don’t leave me. Stay the night.”

  Hud kissed her on the forehead. “I’m not going anywhere, darlin’.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  The sound of rain on the windows and the drip in the bucket in the room across the hall awoke Rose the next morning. She’d fallen asleep against Hud’s chest, his arm holding her tightly, and they were in the same position when she awoke. She rose up on an elbow to find him already awake.

  “Good mornin’, gorgeous,” he whispered and brushed a sweet kiss across her forehead.

  She’d heard it said that home was where the heart was. It wasn’t a town or a particular house, or even a country. If that was true, she was home, because her heart was happy that morning. “Good mornin’ to you, sexy cowboy.” She gave him a peck on the lips.

  “Want a repeat of last night before we get ready for church?” he asked.

  “If we start that, we might not make it to church.” She bailed out of bed and headed straight for the bathroom. “Want to join me in the shower?”

  Hud threw back the covers and beat her to the bathroom. He’d already adjusted the water to the right temperature when she arrived, and he helped her step over the edge of the bathtub. “Are you going to wash your hair?” he asked.

  “Yep.” She nodded.

  “Then turn around and let me do it for you.” He picked up the shampoo, washed her hair, and then massaged her scalp.

  “That’s even more wonderful than the foot massage,” she told him.

  �
�We still have conditioner to do.” He did a repeat of the previous process, and not once did he get soap in her eyes. Now it was her turn. She picked up a washcloth, soaped it up, started with his face, and worked her way down his body—slowly, savoring every single moment.

  Having a guy wash her hair and then stand still and let her touch him like this was the best thing next to sex that she’d ever experienced. She could sure get used to a permanent commitment, she thought, if this was what that meant.

  When she’d rinsed him off, she looped her arms around his neck and pressed her body against his. “Ever had shower sex?”

  “Nope,” he said.

  “Me either. Want to give up our shower sex virginity?” With a little hop she wrapped her legs around his body.

  His lips landed on hers and he took a couple of steps forward to brace her back against the wall of the tub on the far end. “Yes, ma’am, I’d love that.” He maneuvered a hand between them and in a few thrusts, it was all over for both of them.

  He turned around until his back was against the wall, and slid down with her still in his lap. “Wow! Too quick, but wow!”

  “Amazing! We’ve got to do that again, sometime.” She wiggled free of his embrace, stood up, rinsed off, and then stepped out of the shower. “If we’re going to make it to church and pray for our sins, we’d better not do it right now, though.”

  She wrapped a white towel around her hair and one around her body. He reached out of the tub and tugged at the one from her body. “I’ll take a chance on getting struck by lightning if you’re willin’ to stay in this morning and take another shower with me.”

  “Not me.” She snatched the towel from his hands and wrapped it back around herself. “I’ll meet you in the foyer in fifteen minutes. I’ll be dressed for church, and you’ll just have time to get out to the ranch and change.”

  “But I’m hungry,” he whined with a grin on his face.

  “I’ll bring along that package of doughnuts.” She waved at the door. “You can eat them on the way.”

  She dried her hair and twisted it up into a pile of curls on top of her head, slipped on underwear, and then put on a long-sleeved, dark blue dress. Her feet still hurt from the night of dancing, and combat boots or even her one pair of dress boots didn’t look right with the Sunday dress, so she went downstairs in her bare feet to get her flats. She passed Hud on the bottom step where he was putting on his shirt.