Dirty Cowboy

by Alycia Taylor

  “Yeah, me too. Wait here; I’m going to make us coffee,” Brady said. “I’ll bring it back here for us to drink in bed.”

  I looked at him in amazement. “Could you get any more amazing? Coffee sounds so good right now. I’d love that. Thank you.”

  Brady climbed out of bed completely naked, and I chuckled, commenting on how gorgeous his legs were.

  “Although, your ass comes a close second. Wait, what are you doing?”

  “Uh, I’m putting clothes on. To make coffee,” he said.

  “No way. What’s the point? You’re just going to come back into bed. Go naked. I want a naked man bringing me coffee.”

  He laughed. “Your wish is my command.”

  Ten minutes later, Brady walked in carrying two cups of coffee and I was pleased to see that he was still naked. He handed me a cup and then climbed into bed beside me. I took a sip and sighed.

  “You’re good at everything you do. I think your coffee making skills are on par with your sex skills.”

  He grinned. “You’re easy to please. Listen, Sloan; there’s something I want to talk to you about.”

  I looked at him and raised my eyebrows. “That doesn’t sound good. Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah, everything is fine. That’s just the thing. Everything is amazing now that you are here. And quite frankly, I’m not prepared to let go of you. But your life is not here. Your life is in New York. You’re an actress, and a damn good one at that. I don’t want to stop you from going back. So, I want to propose that I go back with you. If you’ll have me, of course.”

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. When I first met Brady, I would have sworn that nothing in the world would take him away from Wyoming. It was the nicest thing anyone had ever said to me. He was willing to sacrifice is own happiness for me.

  “Brady, you’re incredible, you know that?”

  “Why yes, yes I am,” he said and laughed. “So, you’ll take me with?”

  “Hell no!”

  “What? Why not?”

  “Brady, I’m not taking you away from this place. This is who you are. You are not a city guy, and there is nothing wrong with that. I don’t want you to come to New York for me. I love how much you love what you do. You are part of this town.”

  “But I don’t want to lose you,” he said.

  “Well, you won’t. I’m going to stay here with you.”

  “What? But you can’t do that. That’s not fair.”

  “I’ve made enough money to last. This will give me more than enough time to figure out what I want to do with my life. But for now, I’m staying here—and I’m staying with you. I have never in my life felt more fulfilled than I do being here with you. What’s the point in going back? All I will do is want to be with you.”

  “You’ll . . . stay here? Really?”

  I chuckled. “Why would I go back?”

  “Uh . . . what about your king-sized bed?”

  “This one is more comfortable. Plus, this one comes with a man that makes me coffee.”

  “Well yes, that is quite the perk.”

  I smiled. “I want to be here with you, Brady.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Trust me: I’ve never been surer of anything in my entire life.”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Brady

  “Well good morning nose. Good morning smile. Good morning ass,” I said to Sloan when we woke up the following morning. “You’re up early.”

  She smiled. “Good morning eyes. Good morning smile. And a very good morning to those sexy legs. Yeah, I knew you were going to work this morning. I figured waking up early would at least guarantee me a coffee.”

  “Ah, you are not only beautiful, but you are wise. Join me downstairs?”

  “I’ll be there in five,” she said.

  I made my way downstairs, still wondering how it could feel so normal to have Sloan with me again. I ground the beans and boiled the water, and when I turned around, Sloan was walking toward me wearing one of my t-shirts.

  “I like that on you,” I said.

  “I like it on me too. Let’s have coffee outside. Do you have time?”

  I nodded. “I have time. And for once in my life, I don’t think it will hurt to get to work a little later.”

  “Your later is still everyone’s early, anyway,” she said.

  I finished up the coffee, and the two of us went to sit outside. I took a sip of my coffee and laughed at Sloan, who was waving out to the distance.

  “What are you waving at?”

  “Oh, I’m saying hi to Betty.”

  I chuckled. “You’re crazy.”

  We sat in silence for a while, just enjoying the cool air of the morning. I was almost finished with my coffee when I turned to look at her. The sun was starting to rise, and she looked like an angel being illuminated.

  “Sloan, about last night . . . are you sure you want to stay?”

  I’d woken up that morning and wondered if perhaps it was just something that was said in the heat of the moment. How could I expect Sloan to give her up big city life for a place like this? Just because I loved it here didn’t mean that everyone else did. I was very aware of what I was going to be asking her to leave behind.

  She smiled at me. “I’m sure. I haven’t changed my mind. Not in the slightest.”

  “I recall overhearing you once say it was a hillbilly town.”

  She chuckled. “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean it. But that’s what I was told it was going to be and I didn’t want to admit to anyone that I actually liked it here.”

  I smiled. “So you’re staying?”

  She nodded. “Oh, I’m staying. And anyway, I clearly can fit in if I want to.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Aren’t you the one you taught me how to talk like this?” she said in the most perfect drawling cowgirl accent I’d heard so far. It was a far cry from the time I’d overheard her practicing her lines behind the barn.

  “Wow, you’ve really gotten that down perfectly now.”

  “I had to. I was so embarrassed when you overheard me the first time trying to talk this way.”

  “I was so mean to you. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t say sorry. If we are going to sit and apologize for all the things we did, we’ll be here all day. Anyway, if it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t be this good now. I worked so hard on this accent just to prove a point to you.”

  I chuckled. “Not the best way to teach someone. But I’m glad I helped.”

  “Ah, it’s beautiful here this morning. That’s the thing I love the most about this place, you know? It’s these moments. You don’t get that in New York. I feel too rushed there. Have you ever been?”

  I shook my head. “I haven’t. But I’d like to. Just to visit. I’ve heard it’s an amazing city.”

  “Yeah, it actually is. I guess it depends on what you want in life. I’m definitely not denying that the place is incredible. But this is what I want at the moment. Maybe this is what I need right now. Do you think people are going to think that I’ve just run away from my problems?”

  I shrugged. “Maybe. I think everyone will think something different. But you shouldn’t care about them. As long as you’re happy, it really doesn’t matter. I have no idea why people make such a big fuss about someone they’ve never met.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Tell me about it. You should see the things that people say about me. I once spent an entire day just looking up myself. There were great things and some awful things. And there were also a lot of things that were just completely not true. I couldn’t believe that people had invested so much time in me. Part of it was flattering, and part of it was just disturbing. I felt like I had lost a part of my life. That was a bad day. After that, I tried not to look myself up anymore. My best friend and agent used to hate that about me. They said it was good for me to know what was going on.”

  “Sounds exhausting,” I said. It was such a far cry from the li
fe of solitude that I was used to that it was hard for me to even comprehend what she was going through.

  “It is. So exhausting. And tasteless.”

  “What do you mean?”

  She laughed. “No carbs, remember.”

  “Oh yeah. Okay, I think I’m happy to live here. Which reminds me, I think I want to make you dinner tonight. Maybe something different from steaks on the grill. I was thinking maybe a nice pasta. Something simple with tomato and herbs.”

  She grinned. “A carb-filled meal. I like it.”

  “Well, I better get ready for work then. Got any plans today?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “Not so much. I was thinking of reading. I started the book, by the way, and I’m loving it. It’s so beautifully weird. I already can’t wait to talk to you about it. And I was thinking of maybe taking a walk and coming to say hi to you.”

  “And what you mean by that is you really just want to say hi to Betty,” I teased.

  “Both of you,” she insisted.

  “I have an idea for later.”

  “Clothes on or off?” she asked.

  I laughed. “I think we need our clothes on for this one. But no clothes after that sounds like a plan. I was thinking that it’s time to take you for driving lessons.”

  She grimaced. “Ooh, another first for me.”

  “Scared?”

  “No way!” she said even though I could see she was lying.

  “You’ll be fine. I promise. And if there’s ever a place to learn how to drive, it’s here in Wyoming.”

  “And then we’ll do no clothes?”

  I chuckled. “Oh yeah.”

  I was just about to get my things ready for the day when the phone rang. I looked at Sloan and frowned. Who was calling me so early in the morning?

  “Probably Harold telling me I am not allowed to come in today,” I said as I picked up the phone. “Hello, Brady speaking.”

  “Brady Maxwell?” said a voice I didn’t recognize.

  “Yes, who is this?”

  “Brady, I’m calling you from the hospital. I’m so sorry to tell you this, but we just received news that your boss, the owner of the farm you work on, has passed away.”

  I felt the room spin around me, and I held onto the wall for support.

  “What? Ha–” I couldn’t bring myself to even say his name.

  “I’m so sorry. We found your name, so I assume you were the closest to him. We need you to come and identify the body. I’m terribly sorry to call you with this news.”

  “I—”

  “Come in as soon as you can.”

  “Okay,” I said.

  She gave me the details of where to go, and I put the phone down. I stared at the phone without saying anything. I was too scared to talk. If I spoke, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to stop myself from crying.

  “Brady, what’s wrong? Who was that?”

  I looked up and saw Sloan staring at me in concern.

  “Harold,” I managed to get out.

  “It was Harold? What’s wrong?”

  I shook my head. “No. Harold died. That was the hospital.”

  “Harold died? Oh no! Brady, this can’t be real. What happened?”

  “I don’t know. I have to go and identify the body. He has no other family. I was . . . I was all he had.”

  “I’m coming with you. And I’m getting a driver to get us. I’m not letting you drive. Damn, of all times not to be able to drive. I’m so sorry.”

  “No. It’s fine,” I started saying although I wasn’t sure how I was going to drive if I could barely stand without wanting to fall over.

  “Brady, I’m calling the driver,” Sloan said.

  Minutes later, the driver got us, and we drove in silence to the hospital. I tried to speak so many times, but every time I opened my mouth nothing would come out. Sloan held my hand and told me that I didn’t have to say anything. She thanked the driver as we climbed out of the car, and we walked slowly toward the hospital. My legs felt shaky, like they didn’t want to support me anymore. I was so grateful to have Sloan by my side. She held my hand the whole time and never let go. At the hospital, the nurse made us fill out some forms, which Sloan did for me, and then she took us to the mortuary.

  The mortician was a young man with a kind face. He didn’t look like I thought a mortician would look. I wondered how he dealt with doing this every day of his life, but assumed it was something he barely thought about anymore. I didn’t envy his job. No matter how closed off he was to what he did, it still couldn’t be easy. I was glad that he was being so nice to us. He took us toward the body and opened up the zip bag. He told me to take my time. I gasped at the sight of Harold inside. How could that be him? There was no more life in him. He lay there, motionless. It didn’t seem real to me. It felt like an imposter. I wanted to hit him and tell him to come back to life. I wanted to scream at him and tell him that he should never have left me. I wanted to shout at the mortician and tell him that this was not Harold lying in front of me. But I didn’t say anything. I just stood there, staring in disbelief. Eventually, I looked up and nodded. The mortician nodded back. And just like that, it was over.

  I walked outside and breathed in the fresh air around me. The air inside the hospital had felt stale, and I now wanted nothing more than the freshness of the outside air. Sloan and I sat down outside, and she wrapped her arms around me.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  I looked at her and saw that she was crying. She hadn’t known Harold as long as I had, but I knew how much he meant to her. She cared for him deeply.

  “I’m sorry too,” I said to her. “Is it weird that I already miss him?”

  She shook her head. “I do too. I’m so grateful that I got the chance to meet him.”

  I smiled sadly. “I’m glad he got to meet you too. He liked you so much.”

  Sloan wept silently beside me. I didn’t cry. I felt too empty to cry. As if all my tears had disappeared along with him. How could he be gone? He’d been like a father to me. I’d often joked around about it, but I only realized at that moment how much he’d actually meant to me.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Sloan

  It had been two weeks since we got the dreaded phone call. Two weeks since I walked with Brady to identify Harold’s body. The first few days had been some of the hardest. I’d only known Brady as this big strong man who could get through anything. It was hard to see him look so weak and so hopeless. The worst part was knowing that there was nothing I could do to get Harold back for him. But I think he was glad to have me there, and I was so glad that I had come back for him.

  He was slowly starting to get back to normal, and every day he seemed to improve. The worst was having to go to the ranch without Harold around, but we went a little every day just to make sure that things were being run smoothly. That was all we could do. I woke up early that morning, earlier than Brady. It was starting to become a habit. I had a feeling that he battled to sleep at night because every morning he slept in late and looked exhausted. I climbed slowly out of bed and made my way downstairs. I decided to send Victoria a message and asked her to let me know when I could call her. I’d messaged her to let her know that I wasn’t coming back the Monday as promised and that I’d get back to her, but with everything that had been happening, I hadn’t gotten around to it. I was surprised when she messaged back to say that she was free to talk.

  I made my way outside and closed the door so that I wouldn’t wake up Brady. Victoria answered after a few rings.

  “Hey, Vic,” I said.

  “Sloan. Man, it’s good to hear your voice. I’ve been so worried about you. I thought you were coming back? It’s been over two weeks, and I haven’t heard a thing.”

  “I know. I’m so sorry. Vic. I owe you an explanation as well as an apology.”

  “Tell me everything.”

  I sighed. I decided that it was time to test our friendship by telling Victoria everything there was
about me. If she didn’t want to be friends with me afterward then I would simply walk away. But I owed it to her to at least try. I took a deep breath and told her everything that I had told Brady. About growing up poor, about my father leaving, and my mother having no money. About working hard, and how I’d thrown it all away to make some quick money for my sick mother. It was the second time I was recounting the story, and it still wasn’t an easy thing to say out loud.

  “Oh, Sloan, you should’ve told me.”

  “I know. I’m sorry. I . . . I mean . . . we only really went shopping and stuff. I think of you as my best friend, and yet sometimes I feel like we don’t even know each other. I didn’t know how you were going to react.”

  She sighed. “I’m going to tell you a little story about me,” she said. “A story I haven’t told anyone before.”

  I listened as Victoria told me all about how her father used to abuse her, and how she had turned to drugs and alcohol when she was younger. She told me that she’d been in rehab for two years and had been clean now for eight years. She told me how messed up she was and how she’d done things that she would never dream of doing now.

  “It was the worst time, Sloan. I did all those things. But I’m not that person anymore. I regret all the things I did, but I don’t want them to define who I am now. I can’t. If I do, then I will never be happy, and I will never move past from that time in my life. I’m a different person now. I guess you and I had sort of a superficial relationship, because we were both scared of letting each other in. I don’t want to be like that with you anymore.”

  I started crying. “Same here. I love you, Vic.”

  “I love you too, Sloan. You’re not coming back, are you?”

  I wasn’t sure how she knew. I’d never even told her about Brady. “I don’t think so. How did you know?”

  “I don’t know. I just do. You met someone, didn’t you?”

  I laughed. “You’re psychic.”

  “It’s called best friend syndrome. So, tell me all about him.”