Masked Cowboy (Men of the White Sandy)

by Anderson, Sarah M.

  She ate alone. Somehow, the phone call from her mom just reinforced how darned depressing her life was. Why else would she be so relieved to hear her mother’s voice?

  She had to be fair. Jacob had done exactly what she’d told him to. After the blizzard sex, as she thought of it, he’d asked her out, albeit not for another six months. Since then, he’d asked her how she was every morning, usually managing to mention something from a previous conversation. He answered her questions while generally looking at her, although he hadn’t touched her again. And when he picked up his dinner at the café before he picked up Kip, he smiled at her, and she saw the man she wanted to know more.

  Which was just enough to string her along.

  For a month, every night after she sudsed off the smell of manure and sawdust, she hoped that there would be a knock on the door and he’d be there, his black felt hat pulled low over his eye as he slowly looked her up and down. It sent shivers through her body. Every single time.

  How ludicrous was it to put on Berry Pink lip gloss before bed? Completely ridiculous, but that didn’t stop her. You just never knew when that man would show up.

  But after the non-event that was her loneliest Thanksgiving ever, she resigned herself to her fate. Only five months and twenty-two days until May 1. And then she wanted a date. A real date with the masked cowboy.

  The second week of December turned bitter cold. Mary Beth couldn’t bring herself to trudge down to the café. Why torture herself when the wind chill dipped past minus twenty degrees? Besides, she needed a beef break. A girl could only eat so many hamburgers.

  So she stayed home.

  Robin was getting more serious with Mikey Nolan anyway, and she wasn’t around the café as much since business was so slow. Apparently, Mikey was good for more than just ferrets, but Robin was surprisingly mum about it. Maybe Robin was growing up. She was going to Sinte Gliske University on the rez this coming fall, and realizing that Mikey Nolan—half-Lakota with his own home and business—just might be the kind of guy she needed.

  Mary Beth was proud of her surrogate younger sister, even if intense flashes of jealously spiked out of nowhere. Robin seemed to be getting it together and Mary Beth felt stuck in the ninth grade, unable to figure out if the boy she liked really liked her or if he was just playing.

  So she channeled her energies into cooking. She made a run to the big Safeway in Rapid City, stocking up for the winter—or at least through the next blizzard. Two hundred and fifty dollars for chocolate chips and Crisco, canned soups and dry beans, tea and cocoa, frozen chicken and frozen veggies—the freezer barely shut. She tweaked Mom’s Chicken Masala recipe until it was perfect, honed her cheesy macaroni bake and experimented with homemade lasagna.

  One Tuesday night, the temperatures hovering near zero while a pot of chicken gumbo merrily bubbled on the stove, there was a knock on the door. Mary Beth shot out of her chair, knocking Ferrets, Rabbits, and Rodents: Clinical Medicine and Surgery onto the floor. A second, more impatient knock followed the first only a millisecond later.

  “Jesus, if that’s Jacob, I’m going to strangle him for scaring me,” she muttered as she grabbed her knife and tucked it in the back of her waistband.

  In the middle of the third round of knocking, she flung the door open. “What?” she demanded, dodging Jacob’s fist as he tried to hit a door that wasn’t there anymore.

  “Oh, good, you’re home. You haven’t been at the café for the last few days.”

  “It’s cold. Or didn’t you notice it was December?” she replied before she crouched down to the white figure in the huge puffy coat, the quilted black fabric nearly swallowing her. “Hey, Kip. You staying warm enough? Are you hungry?”

  “We’ve got dinner,” Jacob said as he nodded back towards the horses, a curious eye on the stove. “Hey, what are you doing tomorrow night?”

  “What?” Mary Beth asked, completely caught off-guard as she remembered she wasn’t wearing any lip gloss at all. She licked her lips.

  His gaze traveled over her body, sending shivers snaking up her back. “What are you doing tomorrow night? Any plans?”

  Is he asking me out? On a date? Mary Beth’s brain spun into action. She’d have to shave her legs—time for a new blade on the razor—and wash that pink and green bra and panties set. Maybe Robin could come over and help her get ready. Should she get him a Christmas present? What did you get a masked cowboy? “Well, I guess I’m doing something with you,” she cooed.

  He looked mildly amused. “Around six?”

  “Sounds good.” She leaned seductively against the door.

  “See you then.” He turned back to the waiting horses. Kip wordlessly followed him, a walking black marshmallow.

  She shut the door and raced to the window to watch them ride off toward the hills. A date—a real date—with the masked cowboy, and it was still December. Suddenly, she wasn’t in high school anymore, but all grown up. Maybe, after she got into his pants, she could get under that mask.

  Although, she mused as she began to dig out her date top, getting into his pants was definitely the priority.

  “Ow!” she howled as Robin accidentally brushed her ear with the hot curling iron. “Let’s keep the damage to a minimum, okay?”

  “Sit still and I will,” Robin snipped as she twisted another strand around the iron. “Will this stay up for another few hours? Ronny wasn’t all keen on me coming in any later than five, although it’s been pretty dead.”

  Mary Beth debated asking about Mikey Nolan and his many ferrets, but decided that another distraction would only lead to another burn. “It’ll stay. You’ve already put half a can of hairspray on it.” Which didn’t stop Robin from misting her head again.

  “I’ll give you credit on the top,” she replied, a critical eye assessing Mary Beth’s outfit. “He’s going to trip over his tongue when he sees you in that.”

  “Are the sandals okay? Or should I go with the green pumps?”

  “Depends.” Robin cast a quick glance out at the voluminous clouds that were building. The day had been surprisingly warm, but that wasn’t a guarantee there wouldn’t be four inches of snow instead of an inch of rain tomorrow morning. “Do you think you’re going to get out of the house in that top?”

  “Well…” Mary Beth bit her lip, looking to the perfectly clean bedroom. She’d gotten up at four this morning to wash the sheets now crisply folded into hospital corners before she headed to the clinic. If he didn’t want to go anywhere, she didn’t either.

  “Wear the sandals if you can walk in them. Did he tell you who’s going to watch Kip?”

  Mary Beth nervously began to chew on her finger, and then jerked her newly polished nail out of her mouth. “No, but surely he wouldn’t bring her on a date, would he?”

  “Don’t call me Shirley.” Robin giggled.

  “Like I’ve never heard that before.” Mary Beth rolled her eyes.

  “Almost done.” Robin hit her with another flourish of hairspray. “Geez, look at the time. I’ve got to run, but I want details tomorrow, okay? I want to know how good he is.”

  Oh, Mary Beth thought as Robin wriggled into her raincoat, he’s plenty good.

  Plenty Holes is plenty good.

  With her hair about a foot wide, her nails peppermint red, her strappy sandals strapped on, Mary Beth sat at the kitchen table to wait.

  “Only another half hour to go,” she muttered, sitting up as straight as possible to keep from wrinkling the silk.

  Time crawled. Absolutely crawled. The half hour until six seemed to take about three hours, the second hand refusing to move as the clock mocked her.

  She tried to pass the time by imagining all the things she wanted to do to Jacob, and all the things she wanted him to do to her. It will be nice to take our time tonight. Just me, Jacob and some smoking hot sex. Nowhere to go, no one to see.

  Except Kip, the little voice in the back of her mind said.

  “Surely he’ll have someone watch her,”
she tried to reason with herself. “Surely he won’t bring her on a date, right?”

  Right, the voice giggled, sounding just like Robin. And don’t call me Shirley.

  Finally, an agonizing seven minutes after six, Jacob knocked on the door.

  “Coming,” she cooed, her voice lilting as she tried to sashay in the unfamiliar heels. She lost her balance, nearly falling in to the door. Whoa, she thought. I’m so out of practice. But she shook off the klutziness and said again, “I’m coming.”

  Slowly—and she hoped seductively—she opened the door and leaned against the doorframe. “Hello, Jacob,” she said, hoping she sounded husky.

  Underneath his sopping wet overcoat, Jacob was wearing a deep-brown suit cut close to his broad chest. Over the white button-up shirt was a turquoise bolo tie. The formality seemed to sit easily on him, although he still had on his scuffed boots. “I’m ready,” she added as her gaze fell on the small figure behind him, completely cloaked in a wet poncho.

  While she’d sort of expected Kip—Jacob never left her anywhere—she was still disappointed. Hard to have smoking hot sex with a seven-year-old around.

  “Uh, hello, Mary Beth,” he stuttered, his eye trained on her carefully arranged cleavage. For a second, he looked like smoking hot sex was on his mind as well, but then the stone-faced cowboy glared at her. “Why are you dressed like that?”

  “What?”

  “You got a date or something?”

  This isn’t a date, she realized way too late. How ridiculous was she to have assumed that an attractive man asking her if she had any plans automatically meant a date? “Oh, this? This is how I like to unwind after a long day of neutering ferrets,” she countered. God bless her mouth. It always covered for her, even when she was embarrassing the hell out of herself.

  He stared at her in stony silence for a moment before he said, “Kip, go on in. I’ll be back later.”

  “Yeah. That sounds good.” He’ll be back for her? He’s not even staying? Mary Beth’s embarrassment flashed into hot anger. Not only was this not a date, but he wasn’t even going to be here.

  She was the babysitter.

  The edge of his eye crinkled as if he was smiling at her but his mouth didn’t move. He knelt beside Kip and shucked off her slicker.

  “Mary Beth will keep you safe, Kip. I promise.” He hugged her before she walked in and mechanically sat on the couch. Jacob stood and thrust a ratty looking backpack to Mary Beth. “Here’s her bag. It’s got her pajamas in there.”

  “What? Wait, how long are you going to be gone?” Mary Beth was aware she was shouting as he headed back outside into the rain, but she couldn’t help it. How in the hell could she have gotten this so wrong?

  “Depends on how long the council meeting takes.” With that, he turned and sprang lightly onto the back of Mick. As Mary Beth stood there with her mouth open, the rain ruining her hair and running down her cleavage, he clucked to the horse and took off.

  “Cho de,” she muttered as the cowboy melted into the rain. Then the lightning cracked and she realized she was still standing outside. “Jesus.” She threw herself back in and she bolted the door behind her.

  Kip hadn’t moved from the couch, water dripping off the heels of her sneakers as they dangled six inches off the floor. She sat as still as the dead. If Mary Beth wasn’t pissed off, Kip would be freaking her out.

  Mary Beth took a deep breath. Just because Jacob was a jerk didn’t mean that Kip should suffer. She buried her resentment at the hours spent shaving and primping for nothing and focused on the task at hand.

  Kip.

  “Hon, you’re soaked. Let’s get changed, then maybe we can make those cookies I promised.”

  At least he’d packed Kip’s toothbrush. Mary Beth quickly got the girl’s face washed and the man-sized T-shirt that was apparently her nightgown over her head without staring at the unmarred ghost-white skin too much. She was surprised to see how thin Kip really was. The few times they’d eaten together, she’d mowed through everything like a growing teenage boy. As Mary Beth wrapped her arms around her and carried her back out to the couch, she wondered at the ribs that poked out.

  Maybe she doesn’t eat at school? Surely Jacob is feeding her. Robin sends home food every night.

  Another unanswered question. Just add it to the list.

  Then it was her turn. She stripped off the sodden chemise and tight pants and slipped back into a clean, worn pair of jeans and her college sweatshirt. I could probably walk around in a chicken suit and Kip wouldn’t notice, she thought as she brushed out the hairspray and pulled her hair back into a low ponytail.

  Kip hadn’t moved by the time Mary Beth got back into the living room. She looked at the clock. Only 6:15. “You want to make cookies? My cousin’s recipe is amazing.”

  She’d always loved baking with Granny in that cozy little farm kitchen. It often seemed like when the rest of the world went wrong—as it did so many times when she was growing up—there would always be something right happening in that kitchen.

  “The secret is to be patient, you know,” she said as she dug out the chips and began to preheat the oven. As she assembled the rest of the ingredients, Kip almost glided over to the kitchen table. “You can’t eat them right out of the oven. They have to cool. Patience is key.”

  As the cookies baked, Mary Beth kept talking. She told Kip about the first time Granny let her make the cookies by herself, and how she’d forgotten to put the eggs in.

  “They were terrible.” Mary Beth smiled at the memory. “Even the pigs wouldn’t eat them.”

  She told Kip about how she went home to the farm every summer to help her Uncle Hank out. “He taught me how to really work with animals. Uncle Hank showed me how to understand the cows. He’s the one who really made me the vet I am.”

  Finally, the first sheet out of the oven was cool enough. “You want milk, right?” she asked as Kip’s hand moved stealthily toward the brimming plate.

  Quickly, the cookies were reduced to crumbs. “Okay, those were good,” she agreed with the unspoken compliment as Kip licked a smear of chocolate off her fingers. “We should save some for Jacob though.”

  They each had one more cookie but by then it was eight o’clock and Mary Beth thought she saw Kip’s head begin to nod.

  And she had no idea when Jacob was coming back.

  Resigned to another slumber party, she quickly got the couch ready. It was raining even harder as lightning streaked across the sky, and Mary Beth wondered if Jacob would just expect to spend the night in her bed again.

  Nope, she decided, only a little bitter about the failed date. That jerk can sleep out here on the floor.

  She dug out her copy of Scott O’Dell’s Island of the Blue Dolphin. “I’ll read it to you. This was one of my favorites when I was a kid.”

  She slowly spun out the tale of the girl alone, and after a few chapters, Kip’s chest rose and fell in even breaths.

  Mary Beth looked at the clock. Almost 9:30. Where the hell is Jacob?

  Jacob sat in the back of the nearly empty meeting room, trying to be invisible. He wasn’t doing a great job at it though. Hard to hide in a crowd of seven.

  The six people sitting at the half-round table in the front of the room—complete with microphones—were bickering about lawsuits and Buck McGillis. Specifically, half the council wanted to sue McGillis again and the other half didn’t see the point. A lone reporter from the Lakota Times had struggled out in this God-awful weather and was dutifully taking notes. That was it.

  There were more than a few pissed glances from those who didn’t see the point, especially as their main argument was that Buck could hire shady-enough lawyers to make another lawsuit a moot point. That, Jacob gathered, was his fault. He was the one who earned Buck his money. He was the problem. Didn’t much matter to the council if Jacob was also in favor of suing Buck. Anything to slow him down was a good thing, in Jacob’s opinion.

  He was only half paying attention t
o the proceedings. His thoughts were on the woman who had greeted him at the door today. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he was developing feelings for Mary Beth Hofstetter. But tonight? Damn. He was feeling something, all right, and that something had a lot to do with the way that pretty top had barely covered up her curves and everything to do with the way she’d looked at him, nothing but another night in bed on her mind.

  However, the part of his brain that wasn’t dedicating itself to finding out what color her bra was this time was a little worried. Okay, a lot worried. Why the hell had she looked so damn good? So he wasn’t the most sensitive guy in the world—even he knew that a woman didn’t dress like that to watch a little girl. She dressed like that for a date—and her expression when he’d sent Kip inside? He was probably lucky she hadn’t stabbed him. He had a horrid feeling that he’d screwed up, but he didn’t know how or why.

  He had an even worse feeling that he’d find out soon enough.

  The door behind him opened, letting in a blast of cold, wet air. The council paused mid-argument. Jacob fought the urge to crane his head all the way around to see who’d come in.

  Sheriff Tim Means crossed in front of him and sat down on Jacob’s good side. The two men nodded at each other but didn’t say anything as the council went back to arguing and the reporter went back to reporting.

  Minutes passed. Jacob was aware of the water that was dripping off the ends of Tim’s official rain slicker, forming a small pool under his chair. Jacob got the feeling that Tim was waiting for him to start. Well, he could just wait. Jacob had all night.

  Finally, the sheriff broke the silence. “Any news?” he asked in a tone too low for anyone else to hear.

  “My horses got sick. Strangles.”

  “What the hell is strangles?”

  “Like strep throat.”

  Tim chewed on that for a moment. “That normal?”

  So far, no one else seemed to notice that Tim and Jacob were talking. “No.”