Cowboy Six Pack

by Kari Lynn Dell

  The steer bellowed again as Darren released it from the chute. Its horns clanged on the fence as it ran through to join its herd mates.

  The alley remained empty.

  “That’s it?” Dean hadn’t realized they’d reached the end of the herd. Caught up in his thoughts, he’d been distracted. A recipe for disaster he’d scolded hired hands come and gone about. Usually, he focused on the job. Today, with his father’s words ringing in his ears and London Bingham’s sudden appearance, he’d been the one all but inviting an accident in the holding pens.

  “Time flies when you’re having fun.” Darren climbed down from the platform overlooking the chute. “Ready for lunch?”

  The smell of brisket wafted over the scent of cow shit. A big smoker sat outside the building, billowing hickory smoke out of the exhaust. Lunch and supper for the lucky workers at the stockyard. And for anyone who wandered in from town in search of the secret-recipe Dean’s mom had created after she married his dad.

  She didn’t run the cantina anymore. Seldom even came to the stockyards, caught up as she was in coddling his sister’s twin boys. She’d given up cooking when the new building renovations were complete ten years ago.

  “Ready to get into a change of clothes,” Dean said. He was stained head to toe. “I’ll meet up with you.”

  Darren arched a steely gray eyebrow. “Trying to impress someone?”

  There had been days as a teenager when Dean was so hungry after a morning of work, he’d gone straight to the smoker, begged a sandwich, and gobbled it in the parking lot. After this morning’s decision, his stomach tangled in knots. “Nope. Had a big breakfast. I’ll be along after I get some of this stink off.”

  “Smells like money.” Darren grinned. “See you inside.”

  The long-running joke that shit converted to money made him shake his head. It was true, but it didn’t make that part of the job any more pleasant.

  He climbed over the fence rail and cut across a grassy patch—scraping his boots along the way—before he hit the parking lot, then rounded the side of the building. Patty would scold his ears off if he went through the main part of the building trailing cow dookie as she called it.

  London sat on the office steps in the shade. A little sandwich in plastic wrap laid in her lap. A bottle of water dripped condensation on the concrete beside her.

  “Miss Bingham.” Aware he reeked, he hung back.

  She turned her gaze on him. Blue eyes were haunted by shadows and a green tinge washed the color from her heart-shaped face.

  “What’s wrong?” The cow smell pretty much always hung over the stockyard unless they got an easterly wind. He understood how nauseating the smell could make people if they weren’t used to it.

  “Just an upset stomach. Nerves.” She offered him a bland smile. “I needed some fresh air.”

  “You look a little peaky.”

  “I’ve had a rough couple of days.” The smile faded. “About last night...I shouldn’t have been so rude. Believe me, if I knew I was coming to work here and you were my employer, I never would have acted like that. I’m sorry. In fact, I wanted to say I don’t even frequent bars often. I’m not a drunk. I didn’t have a single alcoholic drink. But you probably know that.”

  She knew he’d watched her. Uncomfortable, he shifted. “Yeah, I noticed. Sorry about spying on you. I wasn’t trying to be a stalker.”

  She laughed. Real laughter, not a pale imitation of humor like the smile. “Although I can understand why you’d have to go to a bar to pick up women if you smell like that all the time.”

  “I’m on my way to the locker room to freshen up. Sorry money doesn’t smell the same to you as it does to some of us.” He grinned to soften his words. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re here. If Patty picked you from the candidate pool, then I’m sure you’ll be fine. Doesn’t hurt adding another pretty face to the mix.”

  And one over eighteen. Two high school girls worked in the cantina on auction nights. They giggled after every sentence. One blushed so dark, her face looked like it would melt whenever he walked into the kitchen. The other draped herself on him like a coat. As though he’d be caught dead taking out a sixteen year old. He had no desire to tangle with her daddy or spend time in jail over her.

  London looked away. “I hope I do all right. Your father seems nice enough, but he also seems like the kind of guy who doesn’t grant many second chances.”

  She’d hit the nail on the head. “You got that right. I wouldn’t worry too much if I were you. By the time Patty’s two weeks are up, you’ll know dang near everything she does.” He waved at the sandwich in her lap. “I’ll let you get to lunch. Don’t want to waste all your time. Besides, I’m starving. Won’t fill my stomach any faster standing out here gabbing.”

  “It was nice talking to you, Mr. Trulove.”

  He gave a mock grimace. “It’s Dean.”

  “Okay. Thanks, Dean.” She shielded her eyes from the sun as she looked up at him.

  Beams of light cast golden highlights in her hair and illuminated the freckles running across the bridge of her nose. A pretty smile stretched across her face.

  His heart thudded. “You have any trouble, feel free to come to me. See you around, London.”

  He’d be seeing a lot of her since she’d taken the job at the stockyard. Even better than taking her home for what would no doubt have been a one-night stand. It made his heart lighter, even knowing that after lunch his father planned to get all the employees together and break the news. London made a bright spot in an otherwise crummy day.

  * * * *

  Dean’s stomach tightened when his father came into the cantina. Surrounded by Patty, Ryan, London, the five other employees, and the spicy scent of brisket, he should have felt at ease. The stockyard, particularly the cantina, was his second home and had been since he was born. Today the oak paneled walls seemed too close together. The cloying scent of smoked meat hung heavy in the air. It didn’t help his stomach. Dean clenched and unclenched his fist.

  Ryan raised his brows. He mouthed, what’s up?

  Dean shook his hand out, then shrugged. He turned his attention on Darren and held his breath.

  “Y’all here? Good. Got some news.” Darren took off his Stetson. He gripped the brim in big hands, looked down at the black linoleum floor, then cast his gaze around the room. “This ain’t easy.”

  “What’s the matter, Darren?” Juan Suarez leaned forward in his folding chair. “You can tell us anything.”

  Patty laid her hand over Ryan’s. Her knuckles turned white as she squeezed.

  Darren bared his teeth in a smile. “You’re family, even if we’re not blood. That’s what makes this company great. You’ve all worked hard to make the Trulove name and reputation outstanding. That’s why this is so damn hard.” A moment of doubt flashed across Darren’s face. Then he raised his gaze to Dean. “It’s been an honor to work with y’all. You’re family, but today I gotta tell you...I’m retiring.”

  Shocked silence met his words. Darren’s father had died in the office right after one of the most prosperous auctions. Darren had often joked he would most likely follow in his father’s footsteps.

  “Well...that’s good. Right, everyone?” Patty forced a smile. “You’re going to spend more time with Clara, then? And your grandsons. That should be fun.”

  Darren swallowed. “Thing is, Clara’s gonna have heart surgery. She’s got three blockages.”

  “Oh, Darren.” Patty covered her hand with her mouth. “Honey.”

  “Now don’t go getting all teary-eyed.” Darren held up his hand. “The doctor says she’s real certain they’re gonna be able to fix the problem. Clara’s a strong woman. Tougher than she looks. Y’all know that.”

  Dean knotted his hands together. His dad wasn’t wrong about his mother’s constitution. Clara wouldn’t even admit she was afraid she might pass during surgery. She was as optimistic as ever, even though his sister suggested their mother might be
hiding her real feelings. Nevertheless, they worried about their mother. Three blockages were a big problem.

  “She’ll come through just fine, Mr. D. Ain’t nothing to worry about.” Neville Armstrong, one of the ring men nodded. “Guess you’re gonna let Dean take over the business?”

  Everyone turned to look at Dean.

  Darren cleared his throat. “Guess I am. So meet the new boss. He’s been around the business long enough to know it inside and out. If he gets in over his head too bad, he knows where to find me.” He chuckled, but the tiniest edge of regret came through in his voice. “We’ll be just fine. All of us. Especially the stockyard. Dean’s got more than just his good looks going for him. He has the best damn crew of people backing him this side of the Arkansas River.”

  His dad trusted him. He knew that. And the words spilling from Darren’s mouth were meant as encouragement to keep their employees’ morals buoyant. At the same time, he knew the last thing his dad wanted was to walk away. Even though Darren loved his wife, needed her as much as she needed him, Trulove Cattle Company had been in his blood, like Dean’s, since before he could walk.

  “We can handle it, Dad. You take care of Mom.”

  Darren nodded, then dropped his hat back onto his head. “I’ll do that. So y’all get back to work now. If you have any questions, you can come find me later. Or ask Dean. Guess he knows all the workings.”

  There wasn’t a jovial face in the bunch. No slaps on the back or congratulations for Dean. Which suited him. He didn’t want it. Taking over the company was his dream, but not at the expense of his mother’s health or his dad’s disappointment. At least it’s not because Dad’s dead.

  Ryan rose from his seat. “We’ll pitch in and work extra hard around here. Don’t you worry about a thing.”

  “That’s the kind of talk I like to hear. Thanks, son. I got some calls to make, so I’ll be in my office.” Darren left the cantina.

  “You knew about this. That he planned to tell us today.” Ryan frowned. “Jeez, Dean, you might have said something about your mom’s health before. Can we do anything to help?”

  “I’ll call the prayer chain.” Patty rose. “Oh. I better call Clara first. See if she minds.”

  Dean swallowed the knot in his throat. “She doesn’t mind. When I left the house last night, she took my hand and said, ‘If Patty says she’s gonna call the prayer chain, you tell her to go right on ahead and do it’. I told her I would. She needs all the help she can get.”

  “Is it that bad, honey?” Patty folded him into an embrace. “I should go see her after work.”

  “She wouldn’t admit it if she was on her deathbed. You know how she is.” He’d been there the day she collapsed in her flower garden. Blue in the face and short of breath. It had scared the hell out of him. They’d managed to keep it a secret from the neighbors and the community, except for the preacher, who’d visited with Clara about the surgery and the lord’s plan several times since.

  Patty released Dean from the hug. “Is your daddy all right? He puts on a good show, but there was something uneasy in his eyes. Like he was spooked.”

  “He’s worried. About Mom, about the company. It’s hard to blame him.”

  Patty patted his arm. “You’re gonna do just fine. He’s trained you up your whole life for this. He needs to focus on your mama now. Like Ryan said, we’ll do everything we can to keep this place running smooth.”

  “We appreciate that.” Even if Patty was retiring too. She’d have London trained and knowledgeable about the job before two weeks were up.

  London approached. “I’m sorry about your mom. You’ll let me know if there’s anything I can do for your family?”

  Dean nodded. “Of course. Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.” She made a face. “If you’ll excuse me. The smell’s overwhelming.”

  His worry about his family and the business abated. “You all right? You’re a little green.” For the second time today.

  “Fine, I just—” She gestured at the door. “I’ll see you back in the office, Miss Patty.”

  London fled from the cantina.

  “I think that poor girl’s picked up a stomach bug.” Patty’s brow wrinkled. “I’ll get her a Sprite and some crackers. Maybe that will help her out. Goodness. On her first day too.”

  The employees filed past, all with words of encouragement and offers to help however they could.

  Ryan lingered after the others were gone. “You could have told us. That’s what friends are for, you know.”

  “She threatened my existence. I didn’t want to die before my thirty-fifth birthday.” Dean tried to smile, but couldn’t make it stick. “You’d have done the same for your mom.”

  “Yeah. Damn, we’re grown men, but they still know how to keep us in line.” Ryan shook his head. “You gonna be okay? Between that and running this place?”

  “Do I have a choice? Dad will be furious if I let the company run into the ground.” He straightened his shoulders. “Which will never happen. It survived passing from a father to a son before. Great things are meant to be passed from one generation to the next.”

  “Amen, brother. Congratulations on the promotion.” Ryan’s words lacked enthusiasm. “Better get back to work. The show goes on.”

  Dean’s brisket sandwich sat like a lump in his stomach. “Yeah. I’ve got chips to spread in the arena, but I should probably spray down the Astroturf first. Get the cobwebs down and all that.” Maybe drop in on his father and make sure the announcement hadn’t taken too much out of him.

  Ryan clapped him on the shoulder. “Your mom will make it through this. There’s still plenty of jobs your dad can do around here once the worst has passed.”

  “He knows.” The knot in Dean’s throat swelled. “Thanks, Ry. For being like family.”

  “That’s what I’m here for. Call anytime, day or night.” Ryan walked away.

  All the tasks that were standard preparation before any auction—things Dean had done every other Wednesday since he was ten—seemed impossibly hard. But the world kept on spinning even in the face of bad news. Tomorrow’s auction wasn’t canceled—wouldn’t be for any reason other than fire or foul weather. His mom hadn’t wanted to make a big deal of her upcoming surgery. His dad wanted to transition from working man to stay-at-home husband with as little fuss as possible. That meant being a man when all Dean wanted to do was go home, saddle his horse, and ride till all his problems were out of sight.

  CHAPTER THREE

  A knock sounded on the office doorframe. “Dean?”

  He lifted his head from the mock up auction poster he’d printed out a few minutes ago. “London. Come in.” He rose as she entered, then waited for her to sit in the chair across the desk from him before he lowered himself into his seat.

  “Your dad left a few minutes ago. He’s not staying for the auction tonight?” She twisted a little heart-shaped pendant on a necklace that looped around her slender neck.

  Dean shook his head. “He comes in to make sure the details are sewn up tight before the sale, then heads home. At least, that’s what he’s been doing the last month. He’d rather be with Mom.” Just in case. No more long hours for Darren Trulove.

  “Oh. Is she all right?”

  “He’d call if she wasn’t. Auction night or not, he’d let me know. We’re close-knit.”

  “That’s good.” London dropped the pendant and lifted her hands to her hair. She ran her long, dark ponytail through her fingers. “I just had a quick question.”

  “Shoot.” The way she played with her hair mesmerized him. It looked soft and shiny. He itched to touch it.

  “Well, it’s more of a request. And I’m sorry to throw this out there so soon after I started, but for all I know you’re going to fire me after tonight anyway. I’m not sure how good I’ll be at running tickets back and forth. What if I drop them? Or bill the wrong people?” Her blue eyes were huge in her pale face. “I’ve never done such fast-paced work before. Mo
stly secretarial work, and it’s easy enough to do most of what Patty does, but I’m nervous about making out checks and billing people. What if some of them slip out without paying?”

  He smiled. “It’s all right to be nervous. You do have to work at a fast pace, but Patty will show you all her tricks. It’ll be fine. My sister Chrissy used to run tickets. If she can do it, anyone can. Believe me, she’d rather sit and talk all day as run papers back and forth. I think you had a question in there before you got off track.”

  Her face colored—a pretty peach blush over her porcelain skin. “I did. Sorry. I need next Tuesday morning off. For a doctor’s appointment. If that’s okay. If not, maybe I can reschedule, but it would be better if I could just come in about noon and work the rest of the day. Or...whatever you want. I might be able to push it back to the afternoon if that’s better for you?”

  His smile died. A doctor’s appointment. Strange. “What’s up?”

  She froze, then dropped her gaze to her lap. “Sorry?”

  “You’re going to the doctor. Not that it’s any of my business, but you have seemed a little sickly, if you don’t mind me saying. Patty said she heard you in the ladies’ this morning. Sounded like you were losing breakfast.”

  She twisted the end of her ponytail around her fingers. Probably irritated because they’d been gossiping about her. It wasn’t easy keeping secrets with so few employees.

  “I guess it’s going to come out sooner or later. And if anyone ought to know, I guess my employer should.” London drew in a deep breath, then let it out. “I’m having a baby.”

  His heart skipped a beat. “You are.”

  She licked her lips. “In about five months.”

  His gaze fell to her stomach. “You don’t look—”

  She arched a brow. “Knocked up?”

  “I wasn’t going to say it quite like that, but yeah. You look good for a woman who’s...”