City Boy, Country Heart_Contemporary Western Romance

by Andrea Downing

  “He must have built up a reputation.”

  Dakota shrugged. “Who knows the truth of the matter? People come and go here. Kids work for a while then go back to college or whatever. I’ve been taking a year off before going back to school. Only Chay seems to have been around a while. He’s now top hand; Bob thinks the world of him—”

  “Bob Hastings?”

  “None other.” There was silence for a moment before she switched on the windshield wipers to clear some mist.

  It was a metronome to K.C.’s thoughts. “I can’t wait for tomorrow,” she said half to herself. “To start work.” She turned to Dakota and caught her quizzical look. “Well, it’s so different here. So different to where I come from,” she answered the unasked question. “So beautiful.”

  “I guess. Idaho is pretty much the same. I can’t wait to get back. Get back to school and get on with my life.”

  “I think I’m just starting my life.”

  Darkness gave way to scattered lights, and the scattered lights met bright lights, and those in turn found neon. You couldn’t miss the ‘Horse and Wagon’—it was the brightest building on the block. A wonder that the noise and music that flowed past its swinging saloon doors didn’t scare the animals right out of Wyoming.

  K.C. shoved the door of the truck shut and pulled her denim jacket closed. She flicked her hair back off her face and tried to breathe deeply, as much to gain confidence as to fill her lungs with fresh air. Following Dakota into the bar, the sickly-sweet, yeasty smell of spilt beer and something like spicy nachos hit her, the music now an assault on her ears. She scanned around trying to be inconspicuous in the throng while taking in the faces. A group of cowboys, obvious from their dusty boots and their Stetson-topped heads, were laughing and being rowdy at the bar.

  “What’s your poison? I’ll get the first round if you like, you can get the second.”

  K.C. thought fast. “Uh, rum and coke?”

  Dakota grimaced. “How ’bout Jack and Coke?”

  K.C. shrugged. “Sounds fine.” She didn’t want to cling to Dakota, who inched into a space at the bar, so she moved across to a corner by the side of the live band just as they stopped for a break. Down the bar from where Dakota was waving to get the bartender’s attention, the cowboy cluster laughed at something the tallest one had in his hands. K.C. craned around to try to make it out. Then he held it up, spinning the wheels of a skateboard.

  “You can’t…dare you…in boots…Chay…ridiculous…need hills…drink…” Snippets of their words were punctuated by laughter and noise from other patrons. The tall one was laughing hard now and turned, holding up the skateboard. His gaze met K.C.’s as he stopped for a second and stared at her before leaning back on the bar. The conversation continued in more muted voices as Dakota blocked her view, handing her the drink.

  “Shall I introduce you?” She took a sip of her beer, moving a little to the side and peering at K.C. over the top of her glass. “They don’t bite, you know.”

  K.C. looked at the group and opened her mouth to respond just as the tall cowboy dropped the skateboard to the floor, and the crowd around him broke up a bit.

  “Okay, everyone, stand back.” His voice had resonance, a masculine tenor that hushed just about everyone in the room. He stepped onto the skateboard, onlookers now laughing and shouting, “Go! Go! Go! Go!” Heeled western boots and all, he pushed off, jumped while trying to turn around, lost his hat, missed the board, tripped, and slipped on a wet patch. Ending up on his backside at K.C.’s feet, he looked right into her eyes.

  “Hello, Gorgeous.”