by Ashlynn Cox
GONE COWBOY WILD
ASHLYNN COX
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Gone Cowboy Wild
THE JOB
BEAUTIFUL WIDOW
WANTING IT BAD
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The Job
Nash King took off his black cowboy hat and ran an arm across his forehead, which was beaded with sweat. He licked his dry lips, but it hardly did anything to quench his thirst. With a run of his hand, he slicked back his blond hair and placed the hat back on his head. He glanced at his cousin, Ricky King; if the man got any redder in the face, his head would pop off.
“What do you mean you gave our bunks away, Luke? You knew we were comin’. We called you two days ago, right before we got on the train to come to this blasted place!” Ricky yelled.
The older man, Luke, stood behind the fence post, a wood toothpick at the corner of his mouth. He gave a grunt and squinted at both of the young men. “Don’t know what to tell you. Two guys came by before you. First come first serve. Sorry you missed out this time. I betcha find something else. Now, git off my property.”
Ricky kicked the ground with his steel-toed boot. A dirt cloud rose into the air.
“C’mon, Ricky, let’s get out of the dang sun. I’m dyin’ over here.” Nash walked away from the old guy’s ranch. He knew better than to test the man. He always carried a Colt 45 on him, and he was not afraid to shoot a couple of freelance ranch hands.
Vast fields of tall, untamed grass surrounded them for miles. It would be a while before they’d reached the town.
Ricky caught up with him in no time. “I want to punch something right now!”
Nash smirked. “Just make sure it ain’t me, got it?”
“How are you not as mad as a hornet?”
“I ain’t happy, but there’s no use cryin’ over spilled milk. We’ll just have to look for a different job out here. We can’t go home with Granny expectin’ help for the winter. We owe it to her for raisin’ us.”
“We’re late to the season. We were countin’ on that old fart. If she hadn’t had that heart—”
“Don’t you even go there. You know it ain’t her fault for being’ sick. That’s why we gotta work hard out here, so we can take her off the neighbour’s hands and get through the winter.” Nash reached down into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a crumpled mess of cash. Ricky did the same. Neither of their wads could be called recognizable money for very much longer.
“I have ten, you?” Nash asked.
Ricky frowned and shoved the wad back into his worn jeans. “Five. We can’t live off this for very long.”
“It’ll buy us some jerky and somethin’ to drink. I bet we’ll hear somethin’ about someone havin’ work for us.”
“Let’s hope, or we’ve screwed ourselves good.” Ricky took his hat off and ran his hand through his ebony hair. “I need somethin’ to drink, somethin’ fierce. Let’s get to town and quick.”
“We’ve got at least ten miles to go. Hope they go by fast.”
***
Ricky, with the back of his pocketknife’s blade, popped the cap off his ice cold cola and took a swing before biting a chunk out of his jerky. “That hits the spot,” he said with a grunt. He glanced at his cousin, who sat next to him on the cracked sidewalk. “Find anything?”
Nash ruffled the paper and sighed before handing over his drink for Ricky to open. “Nope. Real slim pickin’s. We could check the post office. People post job fliers in those places all the time.”
Ricky stood and let out a belch. “Mmmk. Let’s go check out the post office then.” He took another swing of his soda and helped Nash up off the ground, only to let go of his hand a second later. Nash fell back onto the concrete and glared at his cousin. Then he saw what made the man let go. A young woman walked by, her black hair in braids and her dress shorter than they had ever seen on a woman. “Dang, this town sure does have some nice sights,” he said loud enough for her to hear.
She glanced over her shoulder and gave him a smirk while putting her hand on her hip. “Uh, you go to the office without me. I’ll be around in a bit.”
Ricky walked over to the woman and placed his arm around her shoulders. Nash shook his head and stood. “That sly dog. Only ever takes a wink, I swear.”
Nash picked up the paper bag of their jerky and wadded up the paper to throw it in the trash. “A lotta good that did,” he muttered as he made his way to the post office. He took a swig of his soda and gave a satisfied kaaa! as it left his lips. Only thing that could beat a cold soda on a hot summer’s day was a cold beer, but they had to be wise with the little cash they had left. For all they knew, they’d have to take the train back home to Granny soon.
He sighed. When he got to the post office he’d call her and let her know what’s going on, but at the same time he didn’t want her to worry. “We’ll just need to get another job, and then I can send her a letter,” he mumbled just when a mother and her daughter walked by. She grabbed her daughter by the shoulder and pulled her close while she hurried past him. A heat, not from the sweltering weather, lined his neck. He swallowed hard and shook his head. He had to stop thinking aloud.
The post office, no bigger than a large outhouse, greeted him in no time, but it brought no cool release with it, only a muggier kind of heat. A young woman stood behind the counter, her chin rested on her hand and a tattered magazine in front of her. She flipped through it lazily, barely batting an eye at the only person to enter the building that afternoon. Nash took his hat off regardless of her disinterest in playing the part of customer service. Manners were next to godliness; his Granny taught him well.
He moved up to the bulletin board, skimmed over the fliers for old events and lost pets, but no help wanted ads for any ranch hands jumped out at him. It looked like him and Ricky would have to travel the countryside and see if they could pick up work with a random ranch.
He sighed and thumbed at his hat’s rim, which still rested in his hands. They should’ve left for the ranch job last week. He shook his head. No. Granny had still needed their support then. Her heart attack was fresh. They had thought they’d lost her at first.
“You look like someone stole your horse.”
Nash looked up and blinked with surprise at the young woman. Her blonde hair fell in ringlets that framed her face, and her eyes shined like ocean jewels. She smiled at him and twirled a curl of hair around her finger. He swallowed hard. Ricky was right: the town did have some nice sights to see, but she was a tad too skinny for his tastes. “What were you looking for? Maybe I can help?”
He gave a chuckle and held his hat to his chest. “That’s kind of you, Miss, but I doubt it.”
She shrugged a shoulder. “Never know if ya don’t try.”
He sighed. She was right though; locals tended to know things that weren’t in the paper or on the town bulletin board. “I reckon you’re right. Me and my cousin came out here for a ranch job, but the owner gave away our bunks before we got there. Now we gotta find something else if we wanna make it through the comin’ winter.”
“Mmm…well, there’s a widow running a ranch about seven miles East of here. Big cattle ranch,” she drug out. “Can’t miss it. I know she cut loose two of her hands a couple weeks ago. They were downright pissed. Came in here to mail some letters and went hog-wild ranted about it. I bet she’s still lookin’ for new hires if you wanna try there.”
“Huh, well, I reckon it’s worth a go. Thank you kindly, Miss.” He placed his hat back on his head and tipped it to her. Her smile grew wide.
“You’re welcome.” She twirled the strand even more as she stared at him with hunger in her eyes. “Ya know, I’m off in a little while if you’d like to walk me home.”
Nash King didn’t have to be a rocket scientist to figure out what she was throwin’ his way. If he were Ricky, he would’ve jumped at the chance to get some tail, but he would never be Ricky. And, he needed a connection with a girl before he’d make her see stars.
He grinned. “I would love to, Miss, but it’ll have to be a different day. Me and my cousin should be goin’ before the sunsets. Need to know whether or not we can get a job with that widow, or if we should be travelin’ to another place.”
Her smile fell a bit. “I understand. Stop on in if ya come back through town, will ya?”
He tipped his hat to her again. “I’ll be sure to do that, Miss. Have a nice day. Thank you for the tip.”
He left the post office before she could say another word to persuade him to stick around. Now, he had the challenge of finding his cousin in a town he knew nothing about, or even were to start. They needed to hop on the lead from the post office girl as soon as possible. An old widow would probably be easier to work for than an old man anyway.
It took Nash longer than he thought it would to find Ricky, but when he did, the man was happier than a kid gettin' out of church on a Sunday.
“It’s been too long, Nash, too long,” was all he said when he walked out of the shed next to a rundown bar.
“At least you had good time.” Nash gave him a hard slap on the back. “But I got the cherry to put on top of your cake.”
Ricky lifted an eyebrow. “Yeah? A job?”
“A hopeful one. The girl at the post office told me about a widow who has a cattle ranch East of here and just let go of two hands a couple weeks ago.”
“She’s probably hired two more by now, Nash.”
Nash shrugged. “What’s the worse that’ll happen if we go? No loss in tryin’. At least then we can tell Granny we gave it a real go before returning’ home with our tails between our legs.”
“Yeah. I reckon you’re right. Let’s grab a couple more drinks and hit the road. We might be able to find this old bat’s place before dark.”
“How do you know she’s old?”
Ricky shrugged as they walked to the store. “You said she was a widow. What young thing do you know who’s is a widow? Husband probably killed over and she had no sons to take over the ranch.”
“Yeah, probably.”
Beautiful Widow
The ranch was not as big as the post office girl had described. A single person could almost run it without too much help. Two hands would be enough, and if the widow just let two men go, it was doubtful she would need them.
“You sure about this, Nash?”
Nash glanced at him. “We haven’t talked to her yet, have we?”
“All right, all right, I get your point.”
They walked up to the modest, two-story house, which was painted a dark green. A wide, curved porch made up the front of the house. As soon as their boots made the first step, the screen door swung open with a squeak! A shotgun cocking perked both their ears; they took a step back as a woman stepped onto the porch. Her red hair hung in one long braid over her shoulder. Her yellow dress clung to her full hips and her ample cleavage as well. Nash couldn’t help but to wonder if they’d gone to the wrong place. Was the woman standing before them a widow? She was still young and gorgeous.
She pointed the gun at them, and their hands went up in surrender. “Who are you and what are you doing on my property?”
“Easy, ma’am. We don’t mean to bother you. We heard you may need some workers for the summer, and we came to check it out. I think we may’ve gotten the wrong place though.”
She hesitated for a moment before taking the barrel of the gun off them and uncocking it. “I am still looking for workers. I had to let go of the last ones because they were stealin’ from me. How experienced are you? I don’t need no greenhorns on my land.”
Ricky took off his hat and slicked back his hair. “We’ve been working on cattle ranches since we were nine, ma’am.” She frowned. "I guess I can only take your word for it. Not like you have proof for me. I'll give you both a trial period. If you do a piss poor job, you’re outta here. If I catch you stealin' from me, I'll shoot you in the ass before sending you on your way. Got that?"
Both were taken aback by her forthright personality. Their Granny was the only other woman to be so blunt. "Yes, Ma'am," they said in unison.
"Name's Jessica Dashner. I'll pay you both ten bucks a week for the next three months. You can sleep in my hayloft. I've got cots set up there and an oil heater. I also serve meals twice a day. You good with that?"
It was less that they would’ve made with the old man, but he had a bigger ranch, and he wasn't a widow. Nash couldn’t help but to notice that she still wore a gold band on her ring finger. Was she a widow, or not? "That sounds just fine, Mrs. Dashner," Nash said.
"Jessi, call me Jessi."
"Jessi, got it," Ricky said with one of his smirks that would turn any girl to goo in seconds. She just frowned at him. Then he frowned, not used to a woman who was immune to his flirtatious ways.
She cleared her throat. "Well, you're hired. Come in for a while. I made enough food for leftovers, so there should be plenty for all of us. She went back inside the house and placed the shotgun next to the door.
Both men followed. They'd never admit it aloud, but they liked a woman who could take care of herself. "Go wash up. The bathroom's beneath the stairs. I won't have dirty hands at my table, got that? If you have dirt under your nails, you won't get a plate until their clean."
Both nodded. She took down two plates and glasses while they cleaned their hands. When they came back, two plates of fried chicken, mashed potatoes and corn waited for them. With tall glasses of iced lemonade standing next to the plates, their stomachs rumbled for something more than jerky. She waited for them at the round kitchen table. The kitchen was painted a light green, and various Knick-knacks covered the walls. They sat down, and she held a hand out to each of them. "I do a silent prayer before each meal." They formed a circle with their hands and bowed their heads in prayer before she muttered a whispered "Amen."
The men choked down their food the second she let go of their hands. "Man this is good. Thank you Mrs. Jessi," Ricky said as he swallowed a forkful of mashed potatoes.
She nodded her head. "Just make sure to work good and hard on my ranch and you'll eat well. I like to cook and I like to eat, so you'll never have a bad meal from my kitchen. So what are your names?" Jessi played with her food more than she ate while she stared at the two young men.
"I'm Nash King and this is my cousin Ricky King."
"I take it your first cousins?"
"Our fathers were brothers."
She lifted a single red eyebrow. "Were?"
Both men stared down at their plates before clearing their throats. "Our fathers died in a stamped accident when we were ten."
"Oh, I'm sorry for your loss." She took a bite corn.
Nash shook his head. "Don't be, it's been fifteen years."
The three of them ate in silence for a while. Both men wondered if she truly was a widow since she still wore her wedding band, but neither felt welcomed to ask her such a personal question. Neither could deny they had an attraction to her. She was blunt, beautiful, and she could cook almost as well as their granny.
"So why are you out here looking for work? You don't seem like you're from around here."
Ricky finished off a chicken thigh before he said, "We aren't. We live further East of here, but we came out here for work because it pays better. We're earning money for our Granny to live off of for the winter. She's too old to work for herself anymore. She raised us, so it's only right that we pay back some of her kindness."
Jessi nodded and took a sip of lemonade. "That's mighty good of you. Not many would do that now a days."
"It's the least we can do to repay her," Nash said. He looked at her brown eyes. She glanced away from him and back down at her plate.
The rest of the dinner passed by easy enough, and soon she was showing them where they would sleep. Two cots in the hayloft of the barn. There was a simple pillow and quilt for each of them. An oil powered space heater sat between them. The guys threw down their duffel bags and gave her a nod. "Thank you, Jessi," they said at once.
She laughed at them, but gave a nod of her head. See you both at dawn for breakfast. I let the cattle out onto the pasture then and scrap out the stalls and such after that."
They nodded. She left and after their boots were off, they both fell asleep in an instant. The cattle below them and the smell of manure never fazed them one bit.
The first week of work passed in a blur, meals and chores. The woman knew how to work and was not afraid to get dirty or sweat. They found even more reasons to like her. They had yet to hear anything about her husband, but both could see her as the perfect wife. One night, Nash decided to voice his desire to court her while they lied in their cots, listening to the cattle make noise below them.
"I like her. She'd make a good wife."
Ricky laughed into the darkness. "I agree. Big women always make better wives. Do we have to fight over her?"
"We don't even know if we can. She still wears a wedding' ring."
"Have you seen a husband walkin' ‘round here? What kinda man would leave a woman like her alone for this long? The war’s been over for a year now. He wouldn't’ve been gone for that long after it."
"Yeah, I suppose you're right."
"Damn straight I am. So do we need to have a fist fight over her?"
"Why don't we let her choose? Whoever can woo her first will have her."
"You know I always win these types of bets, right?"
"You've never been against me with this kinda bet."
"What about Hannah Jenkins in the sixth grade before we dropped out? I got her to kiss me first."
