“I like the tits. Are you a biker chick?”
“Sort of.”
“Where ya takin’ me?”
“To this motel so you can sleep off whatever the hell you drank.”
“Oh good. I can’t go home like this. My parents would kill me. They don’t like me drinkin’ so much, but I can’t help it. My life is totally fucked up.”
“Sorry, dude, but I’m not psychotherapist.”
“I could probably use one.”
“I’m sure you could.” They walked in through the glass doors of the motel. She noticed a long counter to check-in and several cheap plastic chairs along the wall. Huh, maybe they charge by the hour. She rang the bell when no one came out to greet them for several moments. She glanced at the open doorway where a television blared in the back. “Hey! Can I get some help here?”
A large, portly man came through the doorway scratching his crotch. “What do you want?”
“A room would be great.” She grimaced and rolled her eyes.
He chewed on the cigar in his mouth as he grabbed some paperwork for her to fill out from the slots in the wall. She put Jacob in one of the chairs next to the desk so she could write. His head dropped to his chest while he mumbled to himself about something or another. Once she had the forms completed, she handed the man her credit card.
When he handed her the keys, she helped Jacob to his feet with an arm around his waist, and they stumbled outside to find the room. One-twelve, one-thirteen, one-fourteen. There it was. One-fifteen. She pushed opened the door and managed to get out of the way just in time for Jacob to hit the bed in a tumble of arms and legs.
Soft snoring met her ear.
Oh hell! The man was sleeping already and he wasn’t even on the bed right. She stood with her hands on her hips deciding what to do with him. She could leave him just like he was or she could at least take off his boots to make him a little more comfortable. His feet hung off the bed so her estimate of his height seemed true although she didn’t know why it made an impression on her.
She pulled off his boots and placed them near the end of the bed so he could find them in the morning. After several minutes, she decided to try to straighten him out so he could at least sleep comfortably and hopefully not vomit in his sleep. She pushed and shoved on his big body until she got him into a semi-comfortable position. “It’ll have to do.”
Grabbing the key to the room, she pulled the door shut behind her as she pointed herself in the direction of the bar to retrieve her bike. When she walked inside, Dan waved her over to where he stood behind the bar pouring beers. “How’s Jacob?”
“Sleepin’ like a baby.”
“What’d you do with him?
“I left him lying on a threadbare comforter in room one-fifteen.”
“You took him to the motel?”
“Yeah. He was too drunk to tell me where he lived, so I figured it would be better if he sleeps off his drunk over there. I wasn’t about to let him drive home. He would have killed someone. If he does this often, I’m surprised he hasn’t already.”
Dan poured a beer for the waitress. “I know. I usually cut him off before he gets too drunk, but we have a new waitress tonight and she kept serving him.”
“Does he do this often?”
“Too often, yeah.” Dan wiped at some imaginary spot on the bar while he talked.
“Man’s got a drinkin’ problem then.”
“I’m sure there would be some who would agree with you.” He shrugged. “What are you gonna do now? You drivin’ home?”
“I guess. My night is kind of ruined. Hell, I might even have to find somewhere else to hang out now that the whole bar knows I can fight.”
Dan leaned toward her with his hands on the bar. “Maybe, but I think you’ll be fine. Besides, I’m sure Jacob will want to tell you thank you for savin’ his ass.”
“I doubt he’ll even remember me.”
“I bet he does.”
She gave him a one shoulder shrug as she glanced around the room. “Whatever, Dan. Anyway, thanks for the Coke. I’ll see you next week, maybe.”
He handed her the helmet from under the bar as she pulled her Harley keys out of her pocket.
With a quick wave, she disappeared back outside. A shiver rolled down her arms from the night air. It sure got cold in early spring. She straddled her bike, hit the ignition and then slipped on her helmet. She needed to go back over to the room and maybe leave the cowboy a note or something so he knew his keys were on the table. Hopefully, he would figure out where he was in the morning so he could drive home. She shook her head. Leave it to her to get in a bar fight on a Friday night in a bar forty-five minutes from home when she wasn’t supposed to be doing anything like this. Preacher’s daughters didn’t go to bars, didn’t get into bar fights, and didn’t save drunk cowboys from getting their ass kicked. Only Paige Tyler would.
* * * *
Jacob Young rolled over onto his back, groaning when his head felt like it was going to split in half. Sunlight poured through the dingy drapes on the cloudy windows as he peeled his grainy eyelids open far enough to see where he was. He recognized the motel. He’d spent enough weekend nights here to know the inside of this disgusting place from corner to corner.
What the hell happened? He didn’t remember much. He drank way too many beers the night before and then started to play pool with some guys he knew he shouldn’t have. He didn’t remember much after that. How did he get to the motel, pay for a room, and get himself to bed?
He sat up and grabbed his head as it pounded out the rhythm of a set of drums. Bongo drums if he thought about it, but that hurt too. God, I feel like shit.
As he squinted trying to bring the room into focus, a piece of paper on the grimy table caught his attention. He blinked several times as he leaned over to grab it.
Jacob –
No thanks needed for savin’ your ass, but please make sure you don’t drive until you’re sober. You really need to quit drinkin’.
The keys to your truck are on the nightstand.
Angel
Who the hell is Angel?
He didn’t remember last night at all. Maybe the bartender could tell him. He glanced at the clock. Fuck. The red digits read nine. Jeff would kick his ass when he got home. It was bad enough his brother thought he drank too much, but now he had proof if he wanted it. Somebody saved his ass last night, paid for a motel and kept him from driving drunk.
Jacob looked down at himself. What the fuck? He picked at the dried substance and slapped his hand over his mouth before he lost what little was left in his stomach. Apparently, at some point, he’d thrown up because the stuff covered the front of his shirt.
He unbuttoned the shirt and took it off. Luckily, he was wearing a T-shirt under it. Spring usually meant colder weather, even in Bandera, Texas.
Once he found his keys and his boots, he got to his feet and headed for the bathroom. He needed to wash out his mouth. Unfortunately, this Podunk motel didn’t have toothbrushes or toothpaste for their patrons. Hell, they barely had a bed.
After he took a piss and rinsed out his mouth, he pulled on his boots and stumbled into the sunny morning.
Getting home had to be the priority right now. He was actually surprised no one had called his cell phone looking for him. Maybe they don’t care anymore. This behavior has been goin’ on for some time. They must realize I’ll make it home eventually, right?
He pulled the phone from his pocket and glanced at the screen. His battery was dead. No wonder no one had called him.
His truck sat in the parking lot across the street all by itself, the rest of the patrons long gone home the night before. He squinted against the sunlight as he slowly made his way to his vehicle.
The door opened with a tug of his fingers. He crawled inside and shut it behind him. The engine turned over with a twist of the key as he took a deep breath and put the truck into drive. Hangovers sucked, but he’d have to deal with it today. Hopefully
, Jeff or his parents wouldn’t be around to harp on him coming in late.
Saturdays should be their day off anyway. Even if Jeff worked himself until he dropped from exhaustion, it didn’t mean the rest of them had to.
“Maybe since he hooked up with Terri, even big brother wouldn’t come in early.”
Several minutes later, he pulled up the gate of Thunder Ridge Ranch, his family’s home and business. They raised cattle on the multi-thousand acre ranch they owned, but they also had opened it to guests.
He punched in the code and watched the gate slide open all the way to allow him entrance. Yeah, sitting there was a stall. But he knew he’d be in trouble, even if he had turned thirty-one not long ago. His parents still treated him like a kid, damn it!
Not stopping at the main lodge house, he drove around between the guest houses and the stable until he reached his trailer at the back of the garden. It wasn’t much, but then again, he didn’t want much. He didn’t have a woman to come home to, so it didn’t matter. A small bachelor pad was enough for him. When or if he ever found someone to settle down with, he’d ask his parents to help him build a home like Joel or Jeff had. He didn’t care enough to maintain anything yet.
He pulled up in front of his place, threw the truck into park and then stepped out.
“Where the hell have you been? We’ve been worried sick. You didn’t answer your phone or anything,” his mother snapped as she rounded the back of his truck.
“Sorry, Ma.”
“Where were you, Jacob?”
“I spent the night in town.”
“Again? Son, what’s gotten into you?”
“Nothin’.”
“Honey, please talk to me. I’m worried sick about you.”
She rubbed his arm. The obvious worry on her face bothered him. The last thing he wanted in this world was to hurt his parents, but things for him weren’t in a good place at the moment. “It’s nothin’, Ma. Can’t a man have a few beers without his family goin’ all ape shit?”
“Jacob, please.”
“I said it’s nothin’.”
“Fine. I’ll send your father to talk to you then.”
“No. I don’t want to talk to him either.”
She sighed as she hugged him. “I love you, Jacob.”
“I know. I love you too, Ma, but really, it’s nothin’ you can help me with.” He pushed her back by the shoulders so he could look into her eyes.
“If you would just talk about it…”
“I can’t. This is something I need to deal with on my own. It’s not somethin’ you, Dad, Jeff or anyone else would be able to fix. I have to do it on my own.”
“You’re drinkin’ way too much.”
“I know. I’ll slow down. I promise.”
He could feel her gaze on his back as he headed for his single wide mobile home, opened the door and walked in. Right now his priorities were food, shower, and to brush his teeth. The grit clinging to the enamel made him want to barf again even though he had nothing in his stomach. He toed off his boots and left them in the living room while he headed to the bathroom, dropping his hat and other clothes in the hall on his way.
His stomach rolled from too much alcohol. I need to get a grip. This shit is for the birds. I hate being sick to my stomach.
The mirror reflected the hell he put his body through in the last several months. His dark hair lay stuck to his skull in a matted disarray of curls. Blood shot eyes reflected the hard life he’d taken up lately. His arms and chest showed the physical labor he usually performed in his everyday life, but the sallow skin told a different story. Too much alcohol had taken its toll. He hadn’t been holding up his part of the ranch. He knew it deep in his soul, but the question was how to get out of the hell he was living now. He wasn’t sure if he possessed the strength to face life anymore or the miserable existence his had become.
His parents were worried. He knew the whole family was concerned about him, but he couldn’t seem to dig his way out.
With a turn of the handle, the shower sprayed hot water into the corner stall of his small bathroom. Once he stepped inside, he sighed with a deep, bone weary groan. Water cascaded over his head and down his chest as he leaned against the plastic wall absorbing the heat from the water.
When had everything spiraled out of control? He wasn’t sure anymore. It had started out so simple.
He shook his head to erase the disturbing memories. Thinking about them right now would make him want to drink again and he couldn’t—he wouldn’t—not today. Maybe this would be the first day without alcohol in a long time. Today would be the turning point in his life. Today, he would be able to move on and forget the hard decision forced on him, but he would never forget. Never in a million years.
Flashes of memory pounded his skull, bombarding him with pain like he’d never felt before. It almost brought him to his knees. A brown-headed woman in a leather bustier and skin tight leather pants flew before his closed eyelids. What the hell? Green eyes the color of emeralds glinted dangerously as she glanced over her shoulder at him.
He massaged his head trying to bring the memory into clarity.
Booze. Lots of booze.
Pool tables.
The Dusty Boot.
It all came back with a sharp stab to his head.
The woman jumped into the fight of three on one to save his ass. The big guy had punched him in the stomach, pushing him halfway across the bar on his butt. She’d taunted the guy while Jacob sat there on the floor like a pussy. He was the pussy like she’d called him, not the big guy. He’d let a woman defend him. How could he do that?
His life had come full circle. Jacob Young used to be someone to fear in a bar fight. Now, a woman took care of him.
Oh God! He remembered where the puke on his shirt came from. After the punch to the stomach, he’d rush for the bathroom only to make it to the door before he threw up all the alcohol in his system as well as the nachos he’d eaten for dinner.
How humiliating.
Jacob turned off the water and wiped his face off. What the hell have I done? I’ve resorted to a woman havin’ to defend me in a fight when I should have been defendin’ her. “I need to find out who she is and at least apologize.”
He’d never seen her before though. Who was she? Did the bartender know her? Maybe he could help him or maybe he would run into her again, but that meant going into the bar. The one place he needed to avoid.
Chapter Two
Another Friday night found Paige putting on her satin and leather to see what the bar held. Did she dare go back to The Dusty Boot to try her luck? What if she ran into the drunk? Jacob. His name was Jacob. Not that she’d forgotten really. Who was she kidding? She hadn’t forgotten him all damned week. His brown eyes had haunted her from the time she’d pulled into the storage shed to deposit her bike before she went home until now.
She wanted to know how he’d faired.
The look he’d given her as she helped him across the street haunted her. He looked so lost, she wanted to take care of him.
“Bullshit on that noise.” The cracked mirror inside the shed reflected her bright green eyes, red lips and high cheekbones. No one she knew would recognize her in this getup, at least no one from church or Heaven forbid, her father.
Once she walked the bike out of the shed, she slid on her helmet, hit the ignition on her Harley and slowly pulled out onto the street. Should she go to The Dusty Boot or try a different bar?
Forty minutes later, she found herself parking at the curb outside the same establishment, as music ebbed with the opening and closing of the doors. What did she hope to accomplish other than no one recognizing her from the week before? She exhaled sharply as she set the kickstand down.
“Hey baby. Weren’t you here last week on this nice lookin’ machine?”
“Maybe.”
“I saw you pull up. Can I buy you a beer?”
“No thanks.”
“Aw, come on, darlin’.” The m
an grabbed her hand as she stepped away from the bike. “Just one. You and me can get better acquainted and maybe have us a little fun.”
“I said no thanks, buddy. Let go before you lose the limb.”
“Tough girl, eh?”
“More than you know. I won’t tell you again to let go of my hand before I break your arm.”
“Fine, fine. It ain’t worth the hassle.” The guy backed away with his hands in the air.
Her boots clicked as she walked toward the door ignoring the man as his cronies laughed at his expense when he joined them. It didn’t matter, but she’d keep an eye on him just in case. She didn’t want trouble, but it seemed to find her.
She walked to the bar to set her helmet down as she said, “Hey, Dan.”
“Paige, honey. I’m glad you came back.”
“Why’s that.”
“Jacob has been asking about you.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. Seems he remembers you to some degree and wanted to know your name. I told him I didn’t know, but he’s been in here every night looking for you.”
“Great, just fucking dandy.”
“If you don’t want nothin’ to do with him, just let me know. I’ll take care of him.”
“No, it’s fine, Dan. Maybe he just wants to say thank you and it’ll be the end of it.”
“I hope so.”
Dan stored her helmet beneath the bar as she walked to the end and found her favorite spot open.
Peyton was tending her end of the long mahogany. “What are you drinkin’, Paige, or do I have to ask.”
“You don’t have to ask, do you?”
Peyton laughed as she slid a tall Coke toward Paige. “No.” Moving closer, she stuck two cherries in the glass. “Dan tell you Jacob has been here lookin’ for you?”
“Yeah.”
“He’s sittin’ in the corner near the back.” Peyton glanced over Paige’s shoulder. “I think he spotted you.”
“Let’s get it over with, I’d say.” She spun around only to come face to chest. She glanced up at the face she couldn’t forget. “Hello.” Tall. Six-foot-four, at least, of pure muscle stared back. Dark hair peeked out from beneath his straw cowboy hat and the deepest brown eyes she’d ever seen on a man looked right into hers. She cocked her head to the side when she noted no alcohol coming from his breath, just a clean, refreshing minty smell. Interesting.
For the Love of a Cowboy (Cowboy Dreamin') Page 2
