by S Doyle
As I made my way into the living room I turned on the TV, anticipating the basketball game that was going to be on tonight. The sixty-inch wide-screen TV was one of the improvements I had made to the place when my parents gave me the ranch.
Surround sound, big picture. It was a TV system for a man.
I blinked when, instead of sporting news, I was watching a beautiful woman fill up the television.
A beautiful woman I knew.
“Sabrina. What I have in this box is going to scare you so much you’re going to scream.”
It was Brin in her LA house with some friends who had come over. It wasn’t like I actively watched Cowboy Princess, but I wasn’t necessarily oblivious to it, either. Juanita liked her reality shows on the tube when she came over to clean.
I watched as Brin poured the two women champagne. That seemed like a constant theme on the program. They were always, all the time, drinking champagne. One woman put a box on the granite kitchen counter of Sabrina’s swanky LA digs.
“Open it! You have to.”
Clearly buying into the gag, Brin scrunched up her nose. Something she’d done even as a kid. She popped the lid off the box and pulled out a shoe.
Seemed like a normal shoe to me, but the look on her face was pure horror.
“What is this?”
“They’re from the discount rack!”
At which point, she dropped the shoe like it was suddenly burning her hands and ran from the room while her friends laughed hysterically at their own joke.
I got plenty of my shoes off the discount rack.
I was about to change the channel when something scrolling along the bottom of the screen caught my attention. A breaking news tag announced that Sabrina King was leaving LA to escape the threat of a Hollywood stalker.
I snorted. “Yeah. Right.” I knew how Sabrina loved her stunts. No doubt this one was an attempt to get the ratings up on her show. Although, if you asked Juanita (I may have asked her once), Cowboy Princess was already pretty popular.
On-screen, Brin poked her head around a wall into the kitchen, her face the picture of fear.
“Are they gone? Did you put them away? Is it safe to come back? Because if it isn’t, someone is going to have to bring my champagne to me.”
I smiled. She really was a goofball.
I shouldn’t have been so harsh with her that one time…
Stop!
I put the mental brakes on those thoughts. Because those thoughts led back to Betty, and that place only made me an angry asshole.
I had been an angry asshole for too long.
Unable to look away, I stood there and continued to watch her for a bit. She was still beautiful, but thinner than I remembered from five years ago. Almost frail. Like a stiff breeze could carry her away. I thought someone around her should tell her to eat a damn cheeseburger instead of drinking all that champagne.
I didn’t know why I was thinking about her at all.
Didn’t she fall into the category of women who had lied to me?
And I hated that category. So much so that I hadn’t let a woman into my life other than for a quick fuck. Fuck ’em and forget ’em was my official motto.
Which I suppose made me a cynical angry asshole, but I had earned the title the hard way.
Suddenly pissed that I was even thinking about Sabrina, or women in general, I changed the channel to sports and felt a sense of relief.
Which brought with it a little bit of sadness, too. Maybe I was never going to recover from what Betty did to me.
5
SABRINA
Dusty Creek
It had only been a few months since Hank’s funeral, the reading of the will, and the whole Ronnie-and-Clayton drama. But it was like I was seeing Dusty Creek for the first time. Had it always been this brown, I wondered? And small?
I drove my silver Mercedes through the main drag and parked in front of The Bar. The least original name for a bar that had ever existed. Still, it was the only one in town and it was the fastest way to spread the news of my return.
It was also a good way to let people know that, if any strangers came to town looking for me, I needed to know about it.
I had almost managed to convince myself that the stalker from LA who’d sent me all those threatening emails wasn’t the same person I had seen on the jogging trail in Dallas.
Almost.
If this person was planning on following me to Dusty Creek, there was no way a stranger in this small town would go unnoticed.
I did a quick check in the rearview mirror and refreshed my lip gloss. I got out of the car and made my way inside. Long narrow space, dim lighting, the smell of fried everything, and a long line of people sitting at the bar watching the big-screen TV.
The bartender was someone I didn’t recognize. Not that I came here all that often when I was in town. But I could see the place had changed from the time when Hank would bring us here to eat every once in a while, once he’d deemed we were old enough.
He’d called it bonding time with his girls. We called it sitting at a table with Hank watching him eat fried shit and drink whiskey until eventually he was too drunk to drive home. Fortunately, Ronnie had her license by then.
Yeah. Good times.
I made my way through the place, not oblivious to those who were checking me out. It was Dusty Creek, after all. Most of the customers sitting at the long bar were men and not used to someone dressed like I was walking into their space. Especially alone. It would take a few seconds for them to realize who I was.
“Sabrina King. You home?” I saw the older man sitting on a stool. I’d known Walt growing up. He’d been Hank’s foreman for years until he retired.
“Hey, Walt. Yes, for now.”
“Good. There should be a King at The King’s Land.”
“Glad you think so, Walt. And thank your son again for all the help with the horses, with Oscar and Trudy being out of town.”
“Making good money,” Walt said. “He don’t mind it.”
I continued until I found an open stool at the end of the bar. Once seated I looked over my shoulder to stare back at the men who were openly watching me. It was best to get this part out of the way.
“Gentlemen.”
I got a few mumbles. A few hellos. Everyone in this town knew the King family. Didn’t mean they all liked us. What with us owning all the land and having all the money, I suppose.
“What can I get you?” the bartender asked. Then he held up his hand. “I can tell you right now I don’t have any goddamn champagne.”
“A fan of the show, I see.” I was guessing that’s why he suspected I might order champagne.
“No.”
Clearly not someone who enjoyed idle chitchat. “Okay. White wine? Any kind you have will be fine.”
He nodded and went to grab a wineglass. I fiddled with my ponytail and hooked the heels of my expensive shoes on a rung of the stool.
“Hey there, li’l girl,” the first man up said. “Aren’t you that reality TV something-or-other princess?”
I turned on my stool to face him. I didn’t know him by name but he looked familiar. Everyone in Dusty Creek looked familiar. Maybe he worked on one of the cattle ranches in the area.
“I am.” I smiled. “Would you like a picture?”
He chuckled and pulled on his oversized belt buckle. “I’ll start with a picture and then we’ll see where it goes from there, sweetie pie.”
I took a deep breath. “First, we have to establish a few things. I’m not a girl, I’m a woman. I’m not a sweetie pie, my name is Sabrina. Unfortunately, I’m not interested in having a conversation with you, but if you would like to take a selfie I’ll allow the five seconds to do that before the bartender serves me my wine.”
His face changed immediately. “Sounds like you’re a snooty bitch. Figures, with Hank King as your father.”
“Yes, I suppose it does. So I guess you’re not going to want that picture. Byeee.” I gave
him my famous blow-off wave and smile.
I turned back to face the bar and the bartender was there with my drink.
“Chuck giving you trouble?” he asked.
Chuck, of the large belt buckle, had made his way back to his table where he was telling all his friends right now what bitch I was. It would keep the rest of them at bay. At least for a while.
“Nothing I can’t handle. I survived LA and Dallas. I can handle the men from Dusty Creek.”
“I’m Jack. Just shout if you need something.”
He was about to move on to other customers but I reached out to grab his hand. He stopped, clearly confused by what I was doing.
I let go and took a sip of my wine.
“Just do me a favor will you? Anyone comes into town asking about me or The King’s Land, could you give me a heads-up?”
“Expecting trouble?”
No. Because that would be crazy, right? Someone following me all the way here.
“Just taking precautions.”
Jack nodded. “The sheriff usually comes in around this time after his shift. I’ll let him know.”
“Let me know what?”
I stilled at the voice behind me. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t forgotten it. I couldn’t believe it still made my heart race. I couldn’t believe…how much I missed it.
I turned and there he was. Still tall and handsome. Still with those amazing green eyes that I had never found in the face of any other man. I knew that, of course. I had seen him at the funeral. I’d known he was there. I had felt him.
Now we were talking. Something we hadn’t done since... The memories of our last conversation came crashing down, reminding me I had cried myself to sleep for months after it.
But that had been years ago. I was different from the person I was back then.
At least, I thought I was. More mature, certainly. Stronger, hopefully. Strong enough to face him again.
I cleared my throat and tried to lift my chin without making it look like I was lifting my chin too high in the air. “Hello, Garrett.”
“Brin. Sorry…Sabrina. You’re back home?”
“For now.”
“We didn’t talk at Hank’s funeral,” he said.
Of course we hadn’t talked. I had done everything in my power to make sure we didn’t talk. I had looked. That’s all I had done. Just looked. However, I suppose if I was going to be staying in town for a while, there was no avoiding him. Dusty Creek was too small.
“Things were a little crazy.” I offered it as an excuse, although he probably had no idea how true it was.
“It’s good to see you.”
He smiled as he said it. As if it didn’t occur to him that the last time we talked he’d humiliated and crushed me.
“Is it?” I asked.
His face changed then, and the kind smile was suddenly gone. Instead, he was looking at this feet and I thought Good. Which felt a little spiteful, but I couldn’t help myself.
Of course I knew what had happened. Everyone in Dusty Creek knew it. Garrett Pine had been stood up by his fiancée on his actual wedding day. His family, his friends, the whole damn town except for the Kings had been invited.
And Betty hadn’t shown up.
Instead she’d left a letter explaining she was in love with someone else and she was sorry, but she hadn’t been able to tell him to his face.
“Look, Brin, I know we left things badly. I imagine you know…”
“I know.” I interrupted him. Because, as furious as I was with him, as hurt as I had been by him, he was still Garrett Pine and I didn’t want to see him humiliated any more than he’d already been.
She hadn’t been good enough for him. Now he knew that, too.
“Anyway,” he huffed out. “Obviously, I was wrong about some of those things I said to you.”
“Some,” I whispered. Because not everything he’d said to me had been wrong. I had to acknowledge that, too.
“Can we put that behind us?”
I nodded. But I was still lying to him. I didn’t think I would ever put Garrett Pine behind me. Clearly five years hadn’t diminished my attraction to him. Which was really sort of sucky.
I didn’t want to be that woman. The kind of woman who got stuck on a guy who didn’t like her back and couldn’t get unstuck. It was freaking pathetic.
I was Sabrina King. I was rich and beautiful, and I had been chased by guys from LA to Dallas for the past five years.
But you didn’t let any of them catch you.
“Good. Now, what was Jack going to tell me?”
Oh, crap. I snapped my jaw shut. If I told him what I suspected there was no way in hell he would believe me. Why would he?
“It’s nothing,” I said. “Just…you know, the whole TV thing attracts some weirdos.”
He laughed. “Like your ‘stalker.’ I saw that on the entertainment news. Who was behind that, anyway? Is that something you have a publicist do? Generate some Hollywood buzz?”
And there it was. He already knew about the stalker situation and he didn’t believe it was true.
I was tempted to show him some of the emails. Show him what the man wrote about me. What he wanted to do to me. But, then again, I supposed he would think that was fake too. ,
That my publicist killed a cat for buzz.
Suddenly I was sad. Like I hadn’t been in a very long time. Which only made me smile harder.
“I have go,” I said. I pulled out a twenty from my back jeans pocket and put it on the bar. I waved to Jack so he would notice and then got off the stool. Garrett was forced to move to make room for me or get crushed by the heel of my stiletto. “It was nice to see you again, Garrett.”
Not!
“Hey, Brin, wait.”
But I didn’t want to wait. I didn’t want to hear him laugh at the idea that I had a stalker. I didn’t want him to call me a liar. Again.
I made my way outside and fumbled getting the key fob out of my jeans pocket. I hit the auto starter so that I could make the quickest possible exit.
But it wasn’t quick enough.
“Brin, wait. Hold up.” Garrett jogged around to the driver’s side were I was getting in. I stopped because I didn’t want to make more of a big deal of it than I already had by storming out.
“Look, I didn’t mean anything by what I said back there.”
On the front seat of my car were sunglasses. I reached down and put them on, taking comfort in the fact that they covered half my face.
“I understand. I really do have to go.”
“Okay, but if you need something let me know. Seriously. Anything.”
That was a joke. “What I need is for you to believe me. But I think we both know that’s never going to happen. See you around, Garrett.”
GARRETT
Pine’s Ranch
What I need is for you to believe me. But I think we both know that’s never going to happen.
I was lying in bed that night and her words kept rolling around in my head. What the fuck had that meant?
Brin damn well knew she had a history of lying to me. A history of phony events she had staged to get my attention.
Okay, she hadn’t been lying about Betty. Or Caroline. But that was it. The two truths in a sea of lies.
Because she’d had a crush on me.
Which she was obviously over. As if a sheriff from a small town in Texas was any match for the Cowboy fucking Princess.
Besides, it wasn’t like I had ever thought about her like that. Sure, yes, I had acknowledged that she’d grown up to be a beautiful woman. And, yes, maybe there had been that moment when I first saw her again in the principal’s office, all grown up, and she’d made me catch my breath. But the reality was that the girl I knew was the kid with the big brown eyes always looking up at me longingly.
Certainly not the ridiculously smoking-hot woman in the bar today.
With long dark hair and legs that went on forever. And lips that had been freshly glossed
and made for kissing. She was the most intimidating-looking woman I had ever seen in my life.
And when she put those sunglasses on to cover her eyes, it had made me irrationally angry.
Angry that I couldn’t look at her anymore. Angry that she was putting up this wall between us.
What I need is for you to believe me…
Why? Why did she need me to believe her? Why had she asked Jack to give her a heads-up if there were any strangers in town looking for her? Of course I had gone back to ask him what they had talked about.
There was absolutely no point in suggesting she had someone stalking her in Dusty Creek. There was no buzz to be had here. Just mud, oil, and cattle, and she knew that.
And I wasn’t enough of an egomaniac to think she still had a crush on me and was trying to get my attention again. She hadn’t gone to the sheriff with her concerns. She’d gone to the local bartender.
Was it possible her story was legit? If so, that meant I was calling her a liar for the third time when she was telling the truth.
If she was telling the truth.
Shit. She hadn’t really said anything. Just TV and weirdos. But the look on her face…
I turned over and looked at the clock on my nightstand. It was after one in the morning and I knew it was doubtful I was going to get any sleep. Instead, I was going to think about Brin and what had made her put on those glasses when she was talking to me.
Because I had almost taken them off her face and broken them.
Which was a bizarre thought to have, but it’s not like I could stop it.
I was also going to think about how I was going to approach her again. Because for damn certain I was going to learn what Sabrina King was afraid of.
6
SABRINA
The King’s Land—A Few Days Later
There were a lot of things I didn’t care for about this place. Mostly the memories of growing up. The one thing I loved, however, was the open space. I was running on Hank’s land…or Clayton’s land now, I supposed, and it felt like I was alone in the world.
