Page 2 of Bred By the Cowboy

“If anyone knows how to make people beautiful, it’s you, sweetheart.”

She turns red from my words as she heads deeper into the ranch house.

She’s been staying here recently. I was filled in when I was out at college. Her mother found some squeeze of a boyfriend in Seattle, and wanted to move there with him, so she sold the trailer that she had raised Dolly in, leaving Dolly in a tough spot. My dad might have been struggling with the loss of his wife and the potential failure of his ranch, but he still had a big heart and opened his house to Dolly. Anise, of course, was more than happy to help her best friend. I was absent so no one considered my opinion. I may have had protests, but not for the right reasons.

Because what’s more awkward than dating your sister’s best friend and having it go terribly wrong?

When your sister’s beautiful best friend lives in the same house as you. No place to run from the awkwardness.

I don’t know if that’s enough to stop me now. The few extra years Dolly has had to mature have turned her into sex on two legs, and I can’t just keep ignoring that fact.

The girl’s gonna be mine or things are gonna get super awkward around here. One or the other, but something’s gotta happen.

2

DOLLY

Alone in the bedroom,I look at myself in the sparkly gown and tiara. Smiling, I savor the memory of standing on that stage and being crowned. It’s not that I need the limelight, but most of my life I have had to fight for attention from my mama, and I never knew my daddy – so today was special. Memorable. Even if this fancy frock isn’t exactly my style.

Some cowboy boots, some flannel, and some denim cutoffs are the order of the day for a summer day like this.

I return to the living room and he’s still there. I don’t know what to think of Angus Rowdy and his fancy college education. Lot of the town sneers at him going off to the state university, acting like he’s better than us. I kinda agree. It just isn’t what you do in Burly. We have our way of doing things and we stick to it.

Then again, I can’t help but notice the cracks in the foundation, how things aren’t always great here. I’m barely getting by, and that’s even with Crockett’s help – Anise and Angus’ dad. I got my pride though. I’m still surviving, if not thriving, and winning the beauty pageant reminded me I’ve got this. I’m making it work.

“So what’d they drink at your college?” Crockett is saying to his son as I return. “They into that piss beer or do they drink the real shit?”

“Dunno, Dad, I didn’t really go to parties.”

“Too good for them too, boy?”

It didn’t help things that Angus had a reputation as a bit of a jerk even before the whole college thing. He always had his head up in the clouds thinking about stuff. He’s by no means a nerd, Lord knows a nerd would never have a body like he does, or be remotely as handsome, but he does seem a bit pompous at times.

“I was there for a reason, Dad. It’s what Mom wanted, and I was going to see it through.”

The elder Rowdy grumbles.

“What about you, Dolly?” Angus turns to me with a crooked smile. “Beauty school, you said?”

There was sort of a rural haughtiness to him. “I know it ain’t agriculture and business management or whatever bullshit you went for, but it’s still an education, Angus.”

“Not saying it isn’t.” He’s making it sound like it isn’t, though. Maybe I’m just reading too much into him. I guess I’ve always been sort of defensive around him, on my guard because I can’t trust what being near him does to me. I can’t let myself fall for my best friend’s brother.

Crockett laughs. “I think she’s got potential to be something more than a beautician or whatever it is you’re trying to be, Angus. She can be a star. Why don’t you sing that song for us, Dolly? The one that won you the pageant? I think he’d love to hear that.”

“Oh really?” Angus says, crossing his arms. “You’re a singer now?”

He shoots me those dark eyes, captivating me just like everything else about him. His broad shoulders, his dimpled jaw, his curly hair. I hate that I love everything about him.

Angus doesn’t believe that I can sing on top of just being a pretty face, huh? I take his comment personally, and shoot him a glare of my own. “Crazy...”

I throw myself into the song. Patsy Cline’s “Crazy.” A classic, one that I’ve loved ever since I was a child. My mother may have burned me with her Seattle nonsense, but I can’t deny she greatly influenced my musical tastes. The old country legends filled my ears as a child, and I happily memorized every lyric. Some of the more modern stuff has fallen short for me, but I can always turn to Norma, Loretta, Tammy, and my namesake. It’s not lost on me who I was named for. I do my damndest to make Ms. Parton proud, even if I know I can never hold a candle to her.

As I sing the song, he’s absolutely captivated by me. Every word that comes out of my mouth goes straight into his ears and burrows into his brain. He’s silent, shocked that I’m actually doing this, and learning why I put all those other girls in their place at the county fair today.

The song winds down, and I burst into laughter. I just poured my heart and soul into a performance for three people.

“The pipes on that girl, she could be a megastar if she wanted, don’t you see, boy?” Crockett slapped his son on the knee.

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