Shelley Galloway - My True Cowboy

“I’m going to sit on the patio,” she told Hank, then walked out to her nine-by-nine concrete slab and took a seat.

The moment she closed her eyes, the furnace that was Texas in September engulfed her. On cue, she started to sweat. Any sane person would go on into the air-conditioning. But maybe that was the problem. She wasn’t sane. Not by a long shot.

Why else would she have left Children’s Hospital in Cincinnati, and all her family … for Electra, Texas?

Maybe she should go back to Cincinnati. Living in the city would be difficult and more expensive, but she could probably find a good job. And then Hank would have everything he needed in case something went wrong….

“You in for the night, Susan?” Betsy, her neighbor, peeked out in between the row of holly bushes that separated their patios.

“I am. What about you?”

The closest friend she had in Electra smiled a gap-toothed grin. “Not on your life! It’s only seven o’clock.”

Once upon a time, Susan had thought that way, too. Now, though, seven meant she could finally sit down and relax. “Hey, want to come over for a minute?”

“Of course. Let me get a pair of Buds and I’ll be right there.”

Minutes later, Betsy arrived, her hands full of Bud Lights and a spunky sashay in her walk. “Hot enough for you?” she asked as she flopped down on Susan’s extra lawn chair. As she did so, the hem of her cotton sundress fluttered around her thighs.

“More than enough. I don’t know when I’m ever going to get used to it being ninety in September.”

“Give it a few dozen years. Then it will seem as normal as dust storms in July.”

“In the meantime, I’ll just pray for good air-conditioning.” As they shared a chuckle, Susan sipped her beer, then looked her girlfriend over. Betsy was an office manager for a cellular-phone company and one of five siblings who all lived around the area. She always had something going on, either with work or with her family. “So, how are you? How was your day?”

“Irritating. Too many people were wanting things I can’t give them.” Running a hand through her short, spiky hair, she sighed. “But that’s okay. It’s Labor Day weekend and I’ve managed to get two out of the next three days off. Hey, want to come to a party with me tonight?”

“Thanks, but I can’t. I’ve got Hank.”

“We need to find you a sitter, Susan. You can’t spend every Friday night home.”

Until the doctors got Hank’s body under control, Susan didn’t want to risk Hank being in a sitter’s care more than she had to. And right now, he was already going to have to be with a sitter for most of Monday.

And, well, being home on a Friday night wasn’t that much of a tragedy for her. She liked the peace and quiet.

For the most part. “Where’s the party?” she asked, mainly to get Betsy’s focus off her.

“At Buffalo Bob’s. Do you know it?”

“Nope. But it’s got a catchy name.”

“It’s a play on Buffalo Bill, you know,” Betsy said earnestly. “Anyway, Bob’s is a honky-tonk down the way.” Betsy’s eyes lit up as if it was her birthday. “Every Labor Day, they put on a big ol’ party. A real celebration. I’m telling you what, it’s a good time. Susan, there’s even gonna be fireworks!”

“Sounds like fun.”

“It’s a hoot, that’s what it is. Lots of people will be there. You’re missing out.”

“I know.” It did sound fun. She used to look forward to Friday nights like no other. There was something to be said for kicking up her heels and letting off steam, and she’d done her fair share of that.

Well, she had until she’d become a mother. Now, sipping a glass of wine with her feet up and a good book sounded like heaven. With maybe a man rubbing her shoulders, too. Maybe even rubbing other places, too, she mused, her mouth going dry.

Gosh, how long had it been since she’d been on the receiving end of a man’s tender touch?

Still chatting about the bar, Betsy threw back the rest of her beer, then added, “Susan, it’s gonna be such a party. I heard even Cal Riddell might show up.”

Susan almost choked on her beer. “You’re kidding.”

“I’m not.” Betsy set down her Bud. “Wait a minute. You’re acting like you know something I don’t. Do you actually know Cal Riddell?”

“Yes.” Though she sure wished she didn’t.

Betsy’s golden eyes lit up. “Oh, honey. That’s awesome! Isn’t he gorgeous?”

He … was. But that didn’t really matter.

“Are you friends with him?”

“Not so much.”

Lowering her voice, Betsy leaned forward. “To tell you the truth, I tried to be more than friends with his brother a few months ago, but he blew me off.”

“Brother?”

“Trent. He’s a legit rodeo star.”

“Wow. I didn’t know that.”

“So, don’t you think that Cal Riddell is something else?”

It was a struggle to not offer her opinion. “He was something, all right.”

“My goodness, but he’s a fine looking man. Six foot three, black hair, blue-gray eyes …” Betsy fanned the air for emphasis. “And the way he talks. I swear, his voice is so deep. And that slow drawl, it’s enough to curl your toes.”

Susan had noticed that drawl.

“And, well, he’s rich as sin, too.”

Though she was telling herself she couldn’t care less about that man, Susan couldn’t help but catch hold of Betsy’s latest tidbit. “He’s rich?”

“Hell, yes! And we’re not talking rich like he-can-take-a-vacation-whenever-he-wants rich. We’re talking rich enough to-buy-himself-a-plane-and-pilot rich.” After a pause, Betsy said softly, “He’s rich enough to support a wife in the way she’d like to be accustomed to.”

Though she was vaguely disturbed by Betsy’s words, Susan elected to ignore them. “Hmm,” she said simply. “I really had no idea.”

“You still don’t. Sue, he’s Cal Riddell, as in the Riddell Ranch.”

Betsy said that as if he was a celebrity or something. Well, she, for one, had never heard of the Riddells or their infamous ranch.

Come to think of it, she wouldn’t shed a tear if she never heard of the place again. Choosing her words carefully, Susan said, “Actually … I wasn’t all that impressed with him.”

“Get out.”

“I’m serious. We shared a table in the cafeteria at the hospital when Hank was getting tests done. The whole time, rich Cal Riddell couldn’t have been ruder.”

“That’s not like him. Usually, he hardly ever talks. It’s part of his charm, you know.”

Susan wished he’d been a little more quietly charming. Though … “He was a little nicer when our paths crossed at the hospital today.”

“See?”

“He was nice until he insulted me.”

“Uh-oh.”

Though Susan realized she was ranting, she just kept on going. “Uh-oh is right. He’s the biggest jerk alive. I hope I never see him again.”

“You ought to get those eyes of yours cleaned. He’s a catch and a half.”

“Not for me. I certainly don’t want to catch him. I just want to stay out of his way.”

“I bet you’ll feel differently about him once y’all dance. I’d feel all kinds of things for him if I pressed up against him real close.”

Susan couldn’t imagine the man she’d met unbend enough to dance at all. She couldn’t even imagine trying to have a conversation with him in a bar! Nor did she ever want to try.

So, if she couldn’t imagine any of that … why could she definitely imagine what it would feel like to be pressed up close to him?

She cleared her throat. “Unfortunately, I won’t be dancing with anyone tonight. But you be sure and tell me how the party is.”