The Cougar and the Cowboy

by Gloria Doty

  “Okay, kids,” Camille said as she reined them in. “I like the romance angle but I want to be clear about a few things before you get too carried away with your ideas. There can definitely be a steamy side to our segments if we choose this topic, but we aren’t publishing the magazine’s version of 50 Shades of Grey, okay?”

  With that admonition in mind, they each left for their own office with lots of thoughts and ideas spinning in their heads.

  CHAPTER 3

  CAMILLE SPENT THE rest of the day analyzing the figures she’d been given. It didn’t look at all promising. She met with the public relations administrator to examine the possibility and expense of a new advertising campaign. There wasn’t time for lunch as she had another meeting with her assistant editor to discuss the morning’s suggestions. Before she realized it, the clock told her it was time to head home. She would take some of the paperwork with her and look at it tonight. Perhaps going digital was the answer…even though she didn’t really want to do that.

  The drive home was much shorter than her morning commute had been…no backed-up traffic. As Camille rummaged in her bag for her house key, the front door opened unexpectedly. It startled her, but even more startling was the sight of Will standing in front of her wearing an apron.

  She hesitantly entered the foyer, then turned and asked, “What’s up with the apron, Will? Are you cooking dinner tonight?” As she noticed his bare legs sticking out from under that apron, she sighed and said, “Please tell me you have some clothing on under there.”

  He threw his head back and laughed nearly uncontrollably. Then lifting the bottom of the apron, he said, “Yes, my dear. I have shorts on…see? Were you hoping I didn’t?”

  She shook her head in exasperation at this man who sometimes drove her to drink.

  “No, Will. I’m very happy to see you are clothed. I may have had difficulty eating if you weren’t.” Seeing his sudden smile, she clarified her statement. “I meant I would have been nauseous, not thrilled.”

  “Okay, okay, Camille. I get the idea. Come in and sit down, take those heels off and relax.” He poured a glass of her favorite wine he had cooled in a chiller on the side table. She glanced at the bottle and realized it was from the order she’d received yesterday. She noticed he was enjoying a glass, also.

  “Thanks, Will. You do realize this wine is pretty expensive, right?”

  He frowned and took a big gulp. “Oh for heaven’s sake, Camille. Stop being such a curmudgeon. We both know you have the resources to buy this entire row of townhouses…and you don’t really need my measly contribution for the month’s expenses, if that’s what you’re being all bitchy about.”

  He turned and walked to the kitchen. “Dinner will be served in fifteen minutes, Your Majesty,” he mumbled as he grabbed the dishtowel he’d tucked in the waistband of his apron and flung it over his shoulder.

  She leaned her head back against the loveseat. Her feet hurt from wearing the stilettos all day. She hadn’t taken the time to change to her flats for the drive home. Will was an excellent cook when he wanted to be, and right now, the smells wafting in from the kitchen made her empty stomach feel even hungrier. She might as well enjoy the glass of wine and dinner, too.

  True to form, the meal was delicious. “Y’know, Will, perhaps you missed your calling. As I’ve said before, I think you should apply to some culinary art colleges and become a chef,” Camille told him as she used the linen napkin to wipe any remaining crumbs from her mouth.

  “That’s not on my radar, Camille. We’ve discussed this before and you already know my feelings on the subject. I might consider opening a restaurant, but I’m not interested in schooling or being a chef. To prepare a meal once in a while is fun, but every day? Ugh. I couldn’t bear it.”

  Camille sighed and poured the last drops of wine into her glass. “Well, Mr. Will, what is on your radar? There had better be some blips on it pretty soon or you won’t have a place to live.”

  He peered at her through half-closed eyes. “You threatening me, Camille? Are you sure you want to kick me out?”

  When he used that condescending tone, she wanted to leap across the table and scratch his eyes out. Instead, she told him, “Do you think you scare me, Will? Just remember, neither one of us would look particularly good in ‘prison orange’ jumpsuits, in case you have any thoughts of breaking our vow of silence.” She laughed derisively at the thought.

  Pushing her chair back, she returned to the living room. “I hope you had your fun for the evening. Sorry it didn’t work, Will. I was going to offer to help clean up but you can do it by yourself. After all, you made the mess. Oh, by the way, dinner was delicious…my compliments to the chef.” She emphasized the word chef, for his benefit as she knew it would piss him off.

  Camille spread the papers she brought home across the coffee table trying not to be distracted by the clanging and banging noises coming from the kitchen. Finally all was quiet and an apologetic Will plopped down beside her on the couch.

  “I’m sorry, Love. You drive me to frustration. Why are you so cold-hearted toward me? What have I done? I know I haven’t been keeping up my end of the finances, but I try to make up for it in other ways. I cooked dinner for you tonight and you were unappreciative, I must say.”

  Camille leaned back and looked at him. “You just don’t get it, do you?”

  Will sighed. “Apparently not. What am I supposed to be getting?”

  “You know, we were very good friends for many years. We should have remained friends and not tried to be anything else…like co-habitants of a house. We argue like husband and wife but don’t enjoy any of the perks of marriage. Now that you quit your job or got fired or whatever, it is really putting a strain on what little friendship we have left.”

  He turned her body sideways with her back to him so he could rub her shoulders and then whispered in her ear, “We could enjoy some of those perks if you’d just let your sanctimonious morals go for a little while. We could be friends and lovers, Camille, with no strings attached.” His lips were warm as he brushed them along her neck. “Let yourself go for once. I guarantee I would more than pay my way,” he murmured.

  Maybe it was the wine or her exhaustion but the room seemed abnormally warm. She closed her eyes and leaned back against him. She was keenly aware of all her senses: the feel of the plush carpet under her bare feet, the dim lighting, the soft strains of a favorite classical song, the fragrance of the fresh floral arrangement on the mantle. She could smell him, too. It was a strong manly, earthy scent. They all combined to remind her of someone she had loved long ago. Will’s hands felt warm on her back and her arms as he encircled her and his hands slowly made their way to her breasts. She ached to be with him for the night but instead pulled away and stood up.

  “It won’t work, Will…not yesterday, not tonight, not ever. Remember our agreement.”

  He watched her walk up the stairs and wished he could convince her to be his. “Damn the agreement! Someday, Camille,” he said under his breath, “it will work, if only for one night and even if it takes a bit of blackmail.”

  CHAPTER 4

  JACE GROANED AS he realized how late it was. The sun was already up and shining in his bedroom windows, nearly blinding him. He tossed and turned all night but must have finally fallen asleep a few hours ago. That certainly made for a short night. At age 42, his body often felt like he was 72…maybe even 102, he thought ruefully.

  Throwing the covers back, he stretched and then gingerly swung his bad leg out of bed first. The stiffness was always the worst in the morning. After a few hours and a bit of exercise, the muscles loosened up and the pain diminished.

  First things first…he made his way to the kitchen and the coffee pot. Taking a shower while it brewed, he made a decision. Today, he was not going to think about the bills or the bar or his monetary predicament. He was going to play hooky and go for a very long, leisurely ride.

  Before he could leave, he had to make a phone call he�
��d been dreading and putting off for months. The call was answered on the second ring.

  “Hello? This is Calvin Frasier.”

  Jace swallowed hard. “Yes, Mr. Frasier, this is Jace Matthews…from Bozeman, Montana. Do you remember me?”

  “Well, Jace, of course I remember you. You purchased two of the finest horses we had. Are you looking to buy a few more?”

  Jace laughed nervously. “No. Not exactly. You know I was more than pleased with the two I bought from you, but some unexpected events have sort of taken over my life and I’d like to ask a huge favor, if I may.”

  They talked for an hour, discussing the events Jace referred to and Cal’s children and grandchildren. Finally, they agreed to talk again in a few weeks after Cal discussed Jace’s proposal with his son, Ben, who was taking over a large share of the ranch responsibilities these days.

  Jace breathed a bit easier now that he’d made the phone call. Even though Cal said Ben was taking over the ranch, Jace was certain Cal still had the final say in most decisions. He walked to the barn feeling as though a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

  He saddled one of his geldings and placed the supplies on the other. He would ride one on the way to his destination and use the other as his pack horse. Then he would switch them on the way back. They needed some exercise and so did he. When he was riding, he could let his mind wander and pretend he was still taking groups of people on trail rides or guiding groups of hunters and fishermen to their favorite spots.

  When he had the horses ready to go and their grain packed, he grabbed some provisions for himself and his dog and stuffed them in his saddle bags. Filling his thermos with hot coffee, he mounted Jesse, his favorite of the two, and leading Jasper, he headed towards the government land, operated by the Bureau of Land Management, also known as BLM land that bordered his 80-acres. His property was too small to be called a ranch in Montana but too big to be just a parcel and he absolutely detested the word, ranchette, as some people liked to call the smaller spreads. To him, that sounded like something ‘Barbie and Ken’ would own. He lovingly referred to his small acreage as his homestead. There were many memories here and it would break his heart if he had to sell it to survive.

  Jace’s injuries allowed him to ride for only a few hours before he had to rest or walk a bit. That was the reason he had to give up the very lucrative business of trail rides and guide trips. No one wanted to stop that frequently; it would take all day to reach camp.

  Even though no structures could be built on the government land, he had permission to take groups on day trips. They rode and enjoyed the wilderness experience during the day and returned to the cabin, which was on his personal land, in the evening. Sadly, the majority of the people he took out, with the exception of the hunters and fishermen, were unfamiliar with the term “roughing it,” and wouldn’t have the first idea of how to pitch a tent or build a campfire.

  He dismounted and sat on a flat boulder. Pouring some of the coffee into his cup, he closed his eyes for a few minutes. Remembering the different groups he’d been hired to take on week-long wilderness adventures, one group in particular always came to mind, even when he willed it to disappear.

  It was a group of eight adults, five men and three women. They all worked for the same brokerage firm in California. He had some good buddies in Silicon Valley and they kept him busy with groups they referred to him. The individuals in those groups were the “new rich” and they all had more money than they knew what to do with. This particular group had been given a ‘Week in the Wilderness’ as a reward for their exceptional work on the account of a high-profile client. They were the usual know-it-alls, even though they were definitely greenhorns. One of the women was particularly outspoken but sweet and attentive to him. To top it off, she was drop-dead gorgeous. Her name was Lorna and she had it all, it seemed. It wasn’t long before she had a piece of his heart, too.

  Jace shook his head to clear the memories. It didn’t do anyone any good to relive the past. It was over…long ago and far away. He might as well ride for a bit longer until he reached the cabin. The scenery was breathtaking and he never tired of soaking it in. He loved Montana, especially Bozeman and the surrounding countryside. This was truly God’s country. He frowned at that description. Once upon a time, he had been a firm believer in God and he would have described his faith as strong. Who could possibly live here and not believe there was a God?

  He had to admit he still realized there was a Creator of all this, but that was as far as his faith went these days. The God he used to believe in heard prayers and answered them; he didn’t turn a deaf ear to his children’s pleas.

  When he reached the cabin, he put his horses in the stable. It was quite large since it had been constructed to hold all the horses for the groups he took out. Sometime during the ride today, he changed his mind about this being a one-day trip and made the decision to stay overnight at the cabin. After relieving the horses of saddles and supplies, he brushed them and as always, he talked to them as he worked.

  “Well, Jasper, does this bring back memories for you like it does for me? Yeah? I know, those were good times, huh? You and Jesse and me…we worked good together. You know, I wouldn’t have had to bring you both today… but I wanted to have this last outing with just the three of us.” Jace continued talking in a soft voice. “This is going to kill me, Jasper, but we’re going to have to part ways, Buddy. Soon, I’m afraid. I can barely afford to feed one horse and I will keep Jesse with me. But if it’s any consolation, you’ll be going back to your first home in Texas. I spoke to the ranch owner and he said he would take you back and give you a good home for the rest of your life. Now, I have to figure out a way to get you there.” Jace laid his head on Jasper’s neck and unashamedly shed a few tears.

  Turning to look at both horses, he told them, “We’ll wander around out here for a couple of days, okay, boys? I told Maggie and Mitch where I was going. I’m sure they can take care of things.”

  CHAPTER 5

  CAMILLE MADE CERTAIN she was more than early for the next ‘meeting of the minds.’ She didn’t want to be admonished for her tardiness again, even if it was in jest.

  When the staff was gathered in the conference room, she asked each one for their ideas about the romance concept and the online dating idea or any other new proposals. She didn’t give her two cents worth yet as she liked to hear everyone else’s take on things first. That way they would be truthful and not swayed by her opinions.

  It seemed to take an inordinate amount of time to reach a decision about combining the two ideas. Some, like Dory, insisted it couldn’t be done successfully and still interest the readers.

  “I appreciate all the ideas and I believe we can combine many of them into a viable project. It will take some doing and many loose ends will need to be tied up, but yes, I think the online dating diary option is the way we’ll go. Now I need to know, truthfully, how many of you have any experience with online dating?”

  They all looked at each other, expecting someone to say something. No one said anything. They only shook their heads.

  “Oh, come on,” Camille admonished. “This is no time to be bashful. It’s not like I’m asking for a show of hands of which one of you robbed a bank last week.”

  Drake finally spoke. “My girlfriend signed me up once as a joke but I didn’t renew the membership. And I never contacted any of the women who contacted me. But we had some laughs while reading their profiles.”

  “Wow.” Camille said. “That’s about all I can think of to say. Just wow. I thought with this many people, it would be a slam dunk to find the right sites and work out the details. Maybe this isn’t a good idea, after all.”

  Allie shook her head, saying, “No, no, don’t stop before we even get started. You don’t have to be a professional dating site subscriber to figure this out, Camille. It’s people looking to hook up with other people…not rocket science.”

  Most of them agreed with her and were
anxious to get the ball rolling. They discussed a title for the series of installments and made the decision to publish one each month for six months. The readers would be promised ‘real-life’ scenarios from a woman who would be actively subscribed to a dating site and who would write about the men who contacted her and also any meetings or dates that might be the results of those meetings.

  Allie added, “You know, there are all kinds of dating sites and some of them even cater to ‘senior’ people. I think our mystery dater should be the same age as our readers. That way there will be some credibility to her encounters. Our readers don’t want to read about 20-year-olds dating; I think they will love it if it’s someone they can relate to.”

  They all heartily agreed with her. They were researching the best sites on their phones when Drake stopped and said, with some concern in his voice, “We’re all forgetting one thing. Where are we going to find a middle-aged woman who will go along with this scheme? She has to be single, obviously…attractive, savvy enough to keep herself safe, have a background in journalism…I mean, we don’t want to spend all our time re-writing the things she sends us… and can afford to spend six months on a project that will most likely, have no future after that time?”

  Camille had been pacing around the room during the discussion. She had stopped pacing and was looking out the window. Her back was to the group when Drake posed the question. It suddenly became so quiet you could hear the proverbial pin drop. She turned to see what was going on to find every person in the room looking directly at her.

  “What?” she asked, frowning. “I think that was a legitimate question and while it may take a bit of searching, I don’t think it’s impossible to find that person.”

  Each of them had a rather conspiratorial smile tugging at their lips when she finally realized what they were proposing. “Oh no. Oh, hell, no!” was her retort. “That is not going to happen. There are too many people in and around St Louis who know me. Where would I ever go out with someone and not run into an acquaintance? And if my little bit of research is correct, you have to put a place of residence on a site, right? I thought we agreed this would take place many miles from Missouri. And I have a magazine to run and…and I would have to find a house-sitter.”