Page 12 of Rough Stock
She nodded again. “Yeah. Six years in a women’s correctional facility in Missouri.” Jensen didn’t know what to say, and he was pretty sure his mouth was hanging open. “What? You look so shocked. Is this where you tell me you don’t want to hang out with somebody who’s a criminal?” she asked, her face suddenly drawn and her eyes looking tired and sad.
“Uh, no. Besides, I can’t believe you did anything very bad,” he offered, hoping he was right.
“Nearly killed a guy.”
Jensen didn’t know how to respond. He finally stammered out, “Well, he must’ve had it coming.”
“Oh, trust me, he did. He’d already put me in the hospital three times.” Her face flushed scarlet and Jensen was a little afraid of what she’d offer as an explanation. “So believe me, if you say you were in a bad relationship, I know exactly what that means.”
“Oh, no, nothing like that!” he was quick to offer. “No, not like that at all. Just got left at the altar.”
“Wish I had. Instead, two of these teeth on the left are implants and I’ve got wires in my jaw and some in here,” she said, pointing to her eye. “Occipital fractures. Never got hurt as badly riding bulls or broncs as I did by that sumbitch when he got drunk. And when I confronted him about the women, he almost killed me. Of course, when I finally stood up for myself and took a two-by-four to him,Iwound up in jail. Ain’t that always the way?” she muttered.
Jensen felt horrible for her. She’d put up with alcoholic parents who didn’t give a shit about her and an abusive partner who’d almost killed her without any consequences, and then managed to wind up in jail for taking up for herself. There was no fairness there, not a smidgen. “I’m sorry you’ve had to livewith all that,” he almost whispered. It sounded lame, he was sure, but he didn’t know what else to say.
“Thanks, but it’s my trail to traipse. Nobody else has ever wandered it with me. I’m the only one, and I think I’ve done okay. There’s not much money in my bank account, but what’s there I put there. Nobody’s ever given me jack shit. My grandpa loaned me that money, and I ate ramen noodles and grilled cheese sandwiches made with fake cheese for two years while I paid him off, but by god, I don’t owe anybody anything. What I have is mine, and what I do is my business.” There was an unmistakable element of pride in her voice, and that left him with a lot of respect for her. The woman had survived against odds that would’ve had him whining and begging his parents for help, and yet she’d just soldiered on through. All of that combined made him even more furious when he thought about how the guys razzed her and gave her trouble. They should be learning from her, not leering at her and making her life even harder.
“I’m impressed,” he told her, and he meant it. “Times are tough, and you’re still going.”
“Let me tell you something,” she said, leaning toward him. “I’ve gone through a lot worse than the things these guys do to me, and I’ve survived. They can do their worst and it still won’t be as bad as the bulk of my life. So they can just bring it. They’re lightweights compared to some of the people I’ve had to deal with.”
“I’m sure. But that doesn’t make it right, the way they’ve treated you. Not at all. They should be ashamed of themselves. I bet if they knew?”
“No,” she said, interrupting him immediately. “I don’t want anybody knowing any of that. I don’t even know why I told you. I just feel like I can, I dunno… trust you,” she said, her face reddening again. “Hope that’s not stupid of me.”
“Absolutely not. You told me all that in confidence, and it’ll stay between the two of us. I’ll never say a word to another soul. I feel honored that you trust me that much, since we barely know each other,” he said, and he meant it all.
“Thanks.” There was a tiny smile on her face. “You just seem like a good guy.”
“I try to be.” Then he grinned. “So after you said all that, I’m trying to add it all up. If I got it right, you’re what, thirty-eight?”
“Yeah. I’ll be thirty-nine in a few months. And you’re…”
“I’ll be forty on my birthday. So we’re not that far apart in age.”I don’t know why that would matter, he told himself.
“No. Not at all.” Her head snapped around suddenly. “Oh. I think the washer’s finished on that load.” She hopped up and grabbed a basket. “Yours just stopped too,” she said, pointing to Jensen’s washer, so he snatched up his basket and started pulling stuff out. They moved across the room, threw everything into a dryer, and came back for the next load. In ten minutes, everything was in the dryers and they were waiting it out.
Thankfully, the conversation turned lighter after that. They talked about cartoons and shows they watched when they were kids, food they hated, and things they remembered. Jensen noted that she didn’t seem to have many good memories, but that was probably because her parents were drunks. Instead, she talked about the way she used to camp in the woods by herself, and a lot of her time had been spent with her grandparents. They laughed about the crazy-looking things that had been in style back then, and it didn’t take long for the dryers to finish and they kept laughing and talking as they folded.
Everything was folded or hung on hangers and taken to their trucks. “Still want that Italian food, or are you tired of me?” he asked, laughing.
“Oh, I’m tired of you, but I’m starving too!” Shyanna said, laughing back. “Let’s go.”
“Just leave your truck here and you can ride with me,” he told her. There was a moment’s hesitation on her part before she let him hold the truck door for her and she climbed in.
The ride was a little awkward, and he wasn’t sure why. Maybe it made her nervous to be in the truck with a man. That wouldn’t surprise him at all. But if the ride was awkward, the dinner was beyond fun. Laughing, talking, and drinking, they went into great detail about their rodeo victories and disasters, and there had been plenty of the latter. He laughed especially hard when Shyanna told him she’d actually left one time and forgotten to take any underwear with her, and since she’d had a flat tire along the way, she didn’t have time to stop and buy any. “You wouldn’t think that little thin piece of fabric would make such a difference, but honestly, I could’ve told tales of chafing that nobody would’ve believed,” she said, laughing at herself.
When he took her back to her truck after dinner, Shyanna got quiet as she sat there in the parking lot. “Everything okay?” he asked.
“I don’t know. I think I may like you a little too much,” she said, her voice low and raspy.
He let out a chuckle, hoping to put her at ease. “I didn’t know that was possible.”
“Yeah. It is. I can’t let anything get in my way. I have to make it in this circuit.”
He just shook his head. “I’d never get in your way. Don’t you think it might be possible to have a relationship, or relationships and friends, without your work suffering? People do it all the time.”
“I dunno. I’ve never managed to make it work.” She opened the door and, with her hand on the handle, said, “I do like you, Jensen. I don’t want that to be a mistake on my part.”
