Page 61 of Bull Rush

“Gentlemen!” he says loudly, spreading his arms wide and stealing the attention away from Dakota. “Do we have a problem here?”

“…of this shit!” I can only hear part of what he says in return. She answers Grant in the wake of one of the assholes’ complaints, and the men start to talk loudly over her, apparently pissed that she’s speaking at all.

“Whoa. Whoa. Don’t worry, gentlemen. If you’re not getting the service you like here, I’ve got somewhere better you can go. Have you heard of The Avarice? It’s a little casino up the way. Fucking fantastic drinks and service. Gorgeous women. Everything you could want on a day like this. Let me get my card out.” He pats his breast pocket to indicate that he’s reaching for it and not something else, and the guy eases up on his holster, his hands going back to his drink. “Here we go. You just give them this, and it’s on the house, okay?”

The guys seem placated by the gesture. They gather themselves and move off the stools at that end of the bar in a relatively orderly fashion. They head for the back door, and I see Dakota muttering under her breath as Grant gives her a sharp look. Once they’re gone, I make my way to them.

“What the fuck was that about?” I ask, looking to Dakota for answers.

“They were asking a lot of fucked-up questions about people in town. Who certain people were. Even asking about the ranch. I asked if they were cops. They didn’t like that. Then they started pressing Ruby for answers, and I told them this isn’t that kind of bar, and they could go to Morton’s.”

“One of them said they didn’t like her mouth,” Ruby pipes in.

Well. I could have told them that was a mistake.

“The other one said something similar but in a language I didn’t understand. Irish accent, maybe? Do people in Ireland speak another language?” Ruby looks to Grant and me like we might have answers.

“They can.” Grant looks to the door.

“Fucking tourists,” Dakota mutters. “They all want to recreate some Wild West saloon. And you just keep bringing more of them in.” She sneers at Grant.

“You need security,” he answers her, a disapproving tone to it.

“I have it.” She points the end of her bat at him before flipping it over and tucking it back under the bar.

“It’s not a joke. You’re going to get yourself or someone else killed, antagonizing them like that with no backup plan.” He lectures her, and I can see the way she bristles at the implication.

“Grant—” I start, but she’s already ready to tear into him.

“I’m going to get someone else killed? You’re the one whokeeps advertising to these jackasses to come up here. If you’d stop dragging them all into town, we’d be just fine.”

“Because business in here is fucking booming.” Grant glances around at the nearly empty bar.

“It’s four p.m.” She gives him a dismissive look as she wipes down the counter.

“I guarantee I have a full house right now.”

Dakota looks like she’s about to jump the counter to rip his throat out—her hand gripping the rag tightly and her focus slowly lifting from the counter to the two-thousand-dollar suit in front of her. I can see her imagining shoving the rag down his throat and how much damage she can do to him with a metal bat and a broken bottle. She closes her eyes and turns to me, opening them slowly with a saccharine smile on her lips before she speaks.

“Ramsey, if you don’t remove your brother from my bar, I’m going to say things I can’t take back, and you’ll have to decide which body you’re helping to bury.”

“Yep.” I nod and turn to Grant. He starts to open his mouth to argue again, and I shake my head. “Let’s go.”

I manage to get him back out onto the street, blinking as my eyes try to adjust to the late-day sun. We walk slowly down Main toward the lot where we’re both parked, passing another group of tourists headed in Seven Sins’ direction, only pausing to take pictures of the old city hall building. I hope for their sake they pick Cowboy’s instead.

“Do you ever think you might catch more flies with honey?” I mutter as I glance back at Seven Sins.

“Maybe I don’t want to catch. Maybe I just want to badger to the brink of insanity.” Grant’s self-satisfied grin hasn’t left his face, and I’m not in the mood to argue with him further. I just want to get home to Hazel.

TWENTY-EIGHT

Hazel

When I get homefrom the inn, I’m frazzled and more than a little tired. I’m half ready to melt into a tub when I notice something on the bed. I’m surprised when I find a new dress laid out on the quilt and a pair of my old black cowboy boots sitting on the floor just beneath it. I’m half worried he found something else to burn when I see a small handwritten note.

Get dressed and come meet me downstairs. Taking you out tonight.

-R

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