Page 14 of Don't Trust the Cowboy

“No, I don’t want to keep you any longer. You said you were dead on your feet earlier.”

He shrugs. “Riding sometimes gives me a second wind. I’m having one. You want one?”

“If you’re making one for yourself, sure. I’ll start at this table, if it’s all the same to you.”

“Sounds good. That table keeps me up at night.”

“Well, then, tonight will be your last sleepless night if I have my way about it.”

He walks into the kitchen, still in view. He looks back at me as he turns the burner on and fills the kettle. “And your boss isn’t going to have a problem with you moonlighting?”

I shake my head and turn around, desperate to get started on the papers staring up at me on the table. “Not at all. He can only offer me so many hours, and that might not be for too long, anyway.”

“How’s that. Is it because you’re so good at straightening out his books?”

“Something like that.” I scoff good-naturedly. “He once said that he wished I’d mess his books up so he could offer me more hours.”

“That’s foolish, but I get it.”

We’re quiet for a few moments, and then he brings me some tea, a sugar bowl and a little flask of milk. “Not sure how you take your tea, darlin’.”

“Oh, thank you.” I smile at him, lifting the mug to my mouth. “It’s my favorite. I love chamomile tea.”

“It helps you sleep.” He states.

“Yes. I drink it a lot when I’m anxious.”

He sits down but straightens out a pile of papers as he relaxes. “You get anxious a lot??

“No more than most.” I reply modestly. “Some people drink or smoke to ease their anxiety. I drink tea.”

“Ridin’s the cure-all for me.”

“Oh, I can understand that for sure.” I chuckle. “Gosh, how liberating that is.”

“Exactly. I’m surprised this was your first time riding a horse. Living in Copper Cove.”

“Well, my folks didn’t let me have a lot of liberties, unfortunately. But I’m sort of glad I waited.”

“I’d feel cheated. Years of enjoyment y’all have missed out on.”

I swallow, thinking of all the other things that I’m still yet to experience. But I don’t divulge.

...but soon, Billy will learn what else he can help me with for the first time...

Chapter 5

Billy

Hereyesaresosoft. So innocent. So honest. And it doesn’t seem to rattle her at all that it’s late and she’s working. The work ethic on this girl is admirable and very much matches my own. Hell, I’ve been known to park my truck and use it for my floodlights on the roof, so that I can work through the night. Done that many times. I help her wade through all the shit on the table, while she inputs bills, sets up some bills for online payment, and she even pays a bunch that are on final notice. It’s past midnight when I look at her and see that her eye lids are turning pink.

“That tea’s starting to hit home, darlin’.” I tell her. “You should go and get some rest.” Then I remember that she’s living in her goddamn car, and I feel like a shit. But there’s no way that she’s staying here. Sure, the chemistry is great, and she’s an amicable young thing, but Jesus Christ, that’s all I need. Word gets around that I’m housing some poor homeless girl and I’m sunk. I start to wonder if what she spoke about earlier has any clout; where she thinks that I worry too much about what the town thinks of my actions. But it’s true. I have to worry about what people in town think. I’m a business owner, and if I ever want to have any decent business, I need to keep my nose clean. Asking a young, homeless girl to sleep under my roof isn’t the way to go here.

“I should let you get some rest, too. I’ll be here bright and early, okay?” She says, rising, not making me feel guilty about possibly pulling up to some random parking lot to sleep. It takes everything in me not to ask her to stay. But I can’t. The voice inside my head is screaming at me, but I can’t tell which issue it’s upset about: the fact that I’m even considering asking her to stay, or the fact that I’m not, and perhaps placing her in harm’s way. Copper Cove isn’t exactly the most unsafe town, but I’m certain that eyes will be on her, if they aren’t already. I’m so torn as I watch her walk towards the door. “Thanks for the tea and the ride.”

My guilt is making me feel physically sick, but I swallow down the bile and let her go. I’ve just met her. She’s not my responsibility. We’re not lovers and we’re barely acquainted, other than the last three or four hours that we spent together. Sure, she’s honest and kind, but I barely know her. It’s asking for trouble offering her my couch or my spare room for the night. Plus, if she stays one night, how much more difficult will it be to make her leave tomorrow? No, she goes. That’s final. “You’re quite welcome. I’ll see you in the morning.” I watch her leave and wonder where she’s headed to. It takes me ten seconds to make a snap decision and grab my keys. I guess that she’s headed to the same restaurant that she mentioned earlier, but I see her car driving very slowly around the corner, in the opposite direction.

There’s a small, barren, carpool lot by the highway. I see her pull in there, but then she drives away, and I’m thinking likely the same thing that she is: that it’s too obvious. That’s when my phone rings on Bluetooth, and I turn back home. It’s Cassidy, calling at an unusual, but not an unheard of, hour. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?” I answer with.

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