Cowboy Take Me Away

by Jane Graves

  And really, really bad for her.

  She’d had too much wine tonight. That was the problem. It made her mind travel to places it had no business going. By tomorrow, she’d forget all about this feeling and realize what was good for her again.

  And it wouldn’t be Luke.

  The next morning, Luke had finished with the horses and was starting in with the cats, when he heard his text message tone. He pulled out his phone.

  Hanson. Shit.

  Missed you in Tucson. Too bad you couldn’t have seen me win!

  A spark of anger slid along Luke’s nerves. He’d been watching the standings. There was still plenty of distance between him and Hanson, so he wasn’t worried yet. Luke was religious about his physical therapy and hit his exercises hard. When the World Championship came, he fully intended to shove those words right back down Hanson’s throat.

  Luke heard the door open behind him. He pocketed his phone and turned around, expecting to see Shannon, only to see another woman walk in. She wore skintight jeans with rips all over them. Luke couldn’t tell if she was being fashionable or she just hated to throw away a pair of her favorites. Her hair was bright red, flowing across her shoulders and down her back. She wore a T-shirt that read, “Everyone is Entitled to My Opinion.”

  “Hi, there,” she said with a smile. “I’m Eve. Shannon’s sister.”

  Even though Luke had known who Eve was when he lived there before, recognition came slowly. She was one of those people who changed dramatically from one day to the next, unlike Shannon, who he’d be able to spot on a crowded street from now until they were a hundred.

  Eve grinned. “I know, I know. Don’t look for it to make sense that we’re sisters. Genetics can only explain so much. And you’re Luke.”

  “That’s right.”

  “I remember you. You used to let the air out of the vice principal’s tires.”

  “I remember you, too. You used to wear a black cape and vampire fangs to school.”

  Eve groaned. “You remember that?”

  “You were hard to miss.”

  “Is a little selective amnesia too much to ask?”

  “Tell you what. If you forget my transgressions, I’ll forget yours.”

  Eve grinned. “Deal.”

  Luke only wished it would be that easy with the rest of the citizens of Rainbow Valley.

  “I hear you have an antique shop,” he said.

  “Resale. More unique than antique, but I have some of both.”

  “Not open today?”

  “My assistant is running the place. I came here to take some photos for the shelter’s new brochure for the festival.” She pulled a camera out of the tote bag she carried. “Act like you’re working. I’ll take a few shots.”

  “How about I just work rather than acting like I’m working?”

  Eve smiled. “Suit yourself.”

  Luke shoved a bowl of food into one of the cat’s cages. “How’d you get drafted for this job?”

  “I sell a lot of stuff on eBay in addition to in my shop. Requires a lot of photos. I’ve gotten pretty good at it.”

  “You’d better think twice about putting me in your brochure,” Luke said, dishing up another bowl of cat food. “I’m not exactly Rainbow Valley’s favorite son.”

  “This is for the out-of-towners, so nobody will care. Though I don’t know why I’m even bothering with photos. I should just put together a single sheet that says ‘We’re broke. Give money.’” She snapped a photo. “So how does it feel to be back in town?”

  “It’s been an experience.”

  “Getting reacquainted with some of the people?”

  “Well, Sheriff Sizemore is just thrilled to have me back.”

  “I can imagine.”

  “I also saw Myrna Schumaker at the Pic ’N Go. She gave me a regular hero’s welcome.”

  Eve winced. “Yeah, Myrna’s like that.”

  “In all fairness, I did do a little damage to the Pic ’N Go at one time, so it’s not surprising that she’d have a little leftover hostility.”

  “Actually, Myrna’s having a hard time these days. Her husband died a few years ago and left her with a lot of debt, and then her daughter ran off, so she’s raising her grandson. She’s always been a little crabby, but with the added pressure…” Eve shrugged. “I guess I’d be crabby if I were in her shoes, too.”

  Luke remembered the little boy he’d seen in the store a few days ago. So he’d been right. The boy was Myrna’s grandson. The question was, what kind of girl took off and left her own son behind?

  Eve lifted her camera again and snapped. “Perfect! Now take off your shirt.”

  Luke lifted an eyebrow. “Why would I take off my shirt to feed cats?”

  “Uh…sex sells?”

  “Isn’t this supposed to be G-rated?”

  “Hey, I’m not getting paid for this. I need to get something out of it.”

  “Eve? What are you doing?”

  Luke spun around to find Shannon behind him, and she didn’t look happy.

  “This is supposed to be about the shelter,” she said to Eve. “Not about Luke.”

  “Can I help it if he’s photogenic?”

  “Go take a few photos of the llamas. That’ll make us look interestingly exotic.”

  Eve made a face of disgust. “No way. They spit.”

  “Yes, but not very often.”

  “All it takes is once to gross you out forever.”

  “That’s what telephoto lenses are for.”

  Eve turned to Luke. “Looks like I’m being dismissed. It was nice to see you. Too bad you’re not staying longer. Shannon could really use the help.”

  As Eve left the kennel, Shannon turned back to Luke. “My sister is a little intrusive. Don’t let that keep you from working.”

  “Wouldn’t think of it.”

  “Did you fill the stock tank?”

  “Yep.”

  “Trim the hedges around the kennel?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Water the new trees near the front gate?”

  “Next on my list.”

  “And sometime soon you’ll need to replace some of the fence boards the horses have chewed up. Oh! And I got a donation of some pansies we can plant in the beds next to the office. This place has to look good during the festival. We always have a lot of people coming through.”

  Luke was already breathless just from hearing her recite her to-do list. Or, more accurately, his to-do list.

  And just as quickly as she came, she was gone again.

  Shannon caught up with her sister on the path leading to the barn. “Don’t you dare use any of those photos of Luke in the brochure.”

  “Why not?”

  “That should be obvious.”

  “It’s for tourists,” Eve said. “They’ll love him.”

  “Tourists aren’t the issue.”

  “But women will come from miles around just to get a look at him,” Eve said. “They might even adopt an animal while they’re here.”

  “Eve? Just once could you do something I ask you to? Just once?”

  “But Luke’s hot. Did I tell you that?”

  Shannon closed her eyes.

  “Tell you what,” Eve said. “You marry Russell, and I’ll take Luke. If he really is the devil, he’s the right man for me.”

  “Do you want to give our mother a heart attack?”

  “Okay, forget that. But at least we could give Mom a little chest pain. Let’s go to the City Limits tonight.”

  Eve was right. Loucinda would hate that, too. The idea of her daughters frequenting a rowdy, cowboy-infested honky tonk was more than her delicate sensibilities could tolerate. As much as Shannon liked the idea of doing something her mother would hate, tonight wasn’t the night.

  “No,” she said. “I’m tired. I’m going home.”

  “But they have a band tonight.”

  “So go.”

  “No. I don’t want to go by myself.”
/>   “Why not?”

  “Because if I’m there alone, the locals think I’m desperate and the tourists think I’m a prostitute.”

  “Or maybe everybody thinks you’re a desperate prostitute.”

  “Exactly. You can save me from that.”

  “Call Tasha to go with you.”

  “I already did, but she’s not sure if she can make it. Cynthia’s coming, but she may be late. That’s why I need you.”

  “Eve—”

  “Oh, all right,” Eve said. “I’ll buy. But that’s my final offer.”

  Shannon finally gave in. Actually, having a few margaritas didn’t sound so bad right about then. At least when she was at the City Limits, she could bask in a lovely, tequila-laced world where life was a breeze and problems didn’t exist.

  By the time Luke gave the horses their evening feed and turned them out, everyone was gone for the day, including Shannon. He went back to his apartment and took a shower, letting the hot water spray on him until it ran cold. His knee hurt less every day, which meant the exercise he’d been getting had been good for it.

  After he threw on some clothes, he looked in the dresser mirror just as he’d done every night since moving in there and asked himself, Now what? He found himself automatically looking for a television remote, only to realize for about the tenth time since he moved in that it wouldn’t do him a bit of good since he didn’t have a TV.

  Crap.

  He’d told Shannon it was no big deal to have no TV, but the truth was he’d kill for basic cable right about then. He grabbed his phone, poked around for a while, but that could only go so far as entertainment.

  On the rodeo circuit, he knew at least one or two guys in most cities he could meet for a few drinks. And then there were the women. The more successful he got, the more they seemed to be willing to hook up for an evening and then say good-bye before breakfast. In Rainbow Valley, if he took up with a woman and she was displeased at such a limited relationship, she’d know where to find him. Not a good thing.

  That left him with exactly nothing to do, and it was starting to drive him just a little bit nuts. Now he understood how people who lived alone in remote places could go stark raving mad.

  Okay. Enough was enough. He couldn’t sit alone in this place one more evening. One way or another, he was getting out of there tonight.

  An hour later, Shannon pulled into the gravel parking lot of the City Limits, a big metal building on Highway 12 east of Rainbow Valley. According to the moveable sign out front, White Lightning was playing that night. Whenever they didn’t have a real gig in Austin or Houston, they played at the City Limits for a few bucks and all the Bud they could drink.

  Shannon pulled her truck in between a beat-up Chevy minivan and a spit-polished Ford pickup. She got out and walked through the parking lot by the light of the red and blue neon sign. When she opened the door, she found the place already packed. The band wasn’t playing yet, but the jukebox was blasting.

  Les Parker had opened the bar in 1964 at a time when Rainbow Valley liquor laws prohibited him from running his business in town. Much to the dismay of the upright, uptight citizens who supported those laws, he thumbed his nose at them by establishing his business approximately six inches outside the city limits. Its current owner, Terri Vaughn, kept the kind of décor and attitude Les Parker would have been proud of, which included neon beer signs, an ancient jukebox, a pair of scuffed-up pool tables, and a gigantic stuffed javelina standing guard by the front door.

  Then times got tough, and Terri recognized the limitations of catering only to locals. She toned the place down to attract tourists, with fruity drink specials, flavored margaritas, and a cutesy menu, but it seemed to Shannon that Terri was always more comfortable serving sinners than saints. Every once in a while one of those sinners stepped out of line, but Terri had a baseball bat behind the bar and zero tolerance for bad behavior.

  Shannon passed the stuffed javelina and approached the bar. Terri was behind it, drawing a couple of frozen margaritas from the slush machine. Tonight she’d pulled her long, bleach-blond hair into a loose ponytail at the nape of her neck, letting it fall in a curly mass down her back. She filled out her Levis and tank top in a way that got the attention of most men, but as soon as their heads turned, she gave them a glare that told them they’d do well to look someplace else. Unfortunately, that tended to limit her dating opportunities. But Shannon liked any woman who was tough as nails and took no crap, who made her own rules and stuck by them.

  Part of the behavior Terri expected of her customers involved her beagle, Rufus. The sign over his doggy bed near the bar made it clear what they were not to do:

  Do not feed the dog.

  No matter how much he begs.

  Those who ignore this warning will be shot.

  On her way to the barstool Eve had saved for her, Shannon took a detour to say hi to Rufus. He lifted his graying muzzle, sniffed her hand, then gave her a doggy smile as she scratched him behind his ears.

  “How’s he doing?” she asked Terri.

  “Doesn’t much like his shots,” Terri said as she slapped the margaritas on the bar for Shonda to take to customers. “Not crazy about his diabetic dog food, either. But he tolerates it. As long as I can keep people from sneaking him French fries, he’s going to be just fine.”

  Shannon gave Rufus one last pat on the head before sliding onto the barstool beside her sister. Eve already had a margarita in front of her, and Terri immediately set one in front of Shannon. Shannon leaned in and took a long drink from the straw, closing her eyes ecstatically. Nothing was better than a big, tart, slushy, salty Texas margarita.

  A few minutes later, Cynthia showed up. She wore a denim skirt, a pair of boots, and a straw hat over her short, dark hair. Miraculously, a margarita also appeared in front of her.

  They chatted about nothing for several minutes, and then Cynthia said, “Dr. Morgensen told me he decided to sponsor the petting zoo at the festival.”

  “Yeah,” Shannon said. “It means a lot to the shelter.”

  “Forget the shelter, Shannon,” Eve said. “He’s thinking it means a lot to you.”

  “So exactly how serious are you two?” Terri asked.

  “Pretty darned serious,” Eve said. “After all, they’re getting married.”

  Shannon rolled her eyes at the same time Cynthia’s eyebrows flew up. “You’re getting married?”

  “No!” Shannon said. “God, no. Eve’s just causing trouble again. I’m not even thinking about getting married.”

  “Fine,” Eve said. “Break your mother’s heart.”

  Shannon sighed. “Can’t a man and a woman just date without everybody shoving them down the aisle?”

  “Around here?” Eve said. “Nope.” She turned to Cynthia. “You see Russell more than Shannon does. What’s he really like?”

  “Hey!” Shannon said. “Don’t put her on the spot with a question like that!”

  “I don’t mind,” Cynthia said. “He’s really good to work for.”

  “He seems kinda uptight,” Eve said.

  “Not really,” Cynthia said. “He’s just careful about things.”

  “Like I said. Uptight.”

  Cynthia just smiled. “And he’s a good dentist.”

  “Well, that’s exciting.”

  “And he’s really nice to his patients when they can’t afford stuff.”

  “Really?” Eve said.

  “The other day, I overheard him tell a patient who couldn’t afford a filling that he needed practice on that particular procedure, so if she’d let him do it, he’d only charge her half.”

  That surprised Shannon. She’d always thought of Russell as the kind of guy who was a little too proud of his professional services to ever discount them.

  “But his diet,” Cynthia said. “Now, there’s something that needs to change.”

  “His diet?” Shannon said.

  Cynthia shuddered. “He eats frozen stuff out of a box
almost every day for lunch. The ones that are nothing but a scrap of chicken and a pile of vegetables.”

  “Oh, that. He’s just careful about his health.”

  “In other words, uptight,” Eve said.

  “Will you hush?” Shannon said.

  “One time I offered to share my homemade macaroni and cheese with him,” Cynthia said. “He looked at it as if it was poison.” She shook her head sadly. “Too bad. He needs comfort food more than any man I’ve ever met.”

  Shannon thought about her favorite homemade comfort food—a scoop of chocolate ice cream on top of a Twinkie covered with whipped cream out of a can. If she and Russell ever did get married and he expected her to cook, he’d be out of luck.

  A minute later, Tasha slid onto the barstool next to Eve and set her giant orange handbag on the bar. She wore a casual jersey dress cinched by a skinny silver belt. The dress hit her mid-thigh, but it looked even shorter when she wore the platform pumps she had on this evening. Silver chandelier earrings came within an inch of grazing her shoulders.

  “You made it after all,” Eve said.

  “I was supposed to do a dry run on Trina Dobson’s up-do for her wedding, but she canceled.”

  “The appointment or the wedding?”

  “Both. I don’t have the details yet. I’ll let you know.” Tasha looked at Shannon’s hair and frowned. “You have split ends.”

  “Hello to you, too, Tasha.”

  “Right there,” Tasha said, flicking the ends of Shannon’s hair. “And they’re only going to get worse.”

  Shannon worried about a lot of things, but split ends wasn’t one of them. “I’ll be in for a haircut soon.”

  “You’re also getting gray hairs.”

  “It’s stress,” Eve said.

  “It’s genetics,” Shannon said. “You have gray hairs, too. You just cover them up with your color of the week.”

  Eve turned to Tasha. “Stress.”

  Terri set Tasha’s usual Diet Coke on the bar in front of her. Tasha had told them once that alcohol was nice, but that nobody wanted to see what happened when she had one too many. And for a woman her size, she said, one was one too many.

  “So what’s stressing you out?” Terri asked.