Cowgirl Up (Silver Creek #2)

Chapter 1 – Cassie

One thing is for certain, two things are for sure: I am chronically single for a reason, and dating apps have no business being downloaded onto my cell phone.

As soon as I walked into this bar and saw my date wearing a full suit, I knew I was in for it.

His outfit looked like it cost more than my entire wardrobe combined.

He had on the full getup—black slacks, Italian loafers, and a suit jacket to match.

Add a tie, and I would’ve thought he planned on getting married on the first date.

Despite his choice of attire, his dating profile made it seem like we had a lot in common. We were both from rural Montana, in our mid-twenties, running our own businesses, but the more the night went on, the more I realized we were polar opposites.

I would give anything for someone to drag me out of the Twisted Spur right now and end my misery. I was secretly planning my escape route.

I could fake sick.

No, that would be too obvious.

I could excuse myself, go to the bathroom, and run out the back door—a classic.

No, he might start asking where I went after too long, and knowing Harold—the oldest bartender in Montana—he’d tell him where I lived and to go check up on me. Then I’d really be up a creek.

Shit. I had no way to escape this date from hell.

Don’t get me wrong, this guy seemed nice. Very put together for his age. He would make someone happy one day, no doubt. But that someone seemed more like a New York high-rise jetsetter type and less like me—a fiery redhead who definitely did not have a rich family with New York City money.

This guy would probably cringe if he saw where I grew up. I was what Bobby Bollins in middle school liked to call “trailer trash.”

To be fair, I did grow up in a run-down trailer in the middle of Ms. Gibbin’s Trailer Park, about two hundred miles south of Silver Creek, in a small town called Blue Mountain. The town was so small my entire graduating class consisted of twenty-six kids.

As soon as Principal Allen handed me my high school diploma, I walked off that graduation stage, hopped in my car, and drove away. I hadn’t been back since.

I probably would have grown up in better conditions if my dad hadn’t left when I was six and my mom hadn’t spent the rest of my childhood chasing men to fill the void my dad had left.

She also liked to chase a high, the reason our barely hanging-on trailer always lacked cleanliness and groceries.

In her defense, I’d be pissed too if I walked in on my baby daddy and my best friend getting it on, but maybe I wouldn’t have started doing drugs. Guess we’ll never know.

Now I just used humor to cope with my childhood trauma. Lucky me.

I looked up, praying my date had magically disappeared.

Nope. Still there.

The waitress walked up, handing him the check. Thank goodness. One swipe of his American Express and I would be home free.

“So, when can I see you again?” he asked as we walked toward our cars in the gravel lot next to the Twisted Spur.

“I’ll have to look at my schedule and get back to you. I’m so busy with my coffee shop I never really have time to go out.”

It was a lame excuse, sure, but it wasn’t a total lie. I really was busy at the Daily Grind, the coffee shop I opened when I first moved to Silver Creek.

As a kid, I had always dreamed of owning my own business. Something that I could build from the ground up that no one could take from me. When I moved here and saw the run-down coffee shop was for sale, I used every penny I had saved up to put a down payment on the place.

Six years later, the little coffee shop was all mine and still going strong.

I loved everything about it. Making the pastries, grinding fresh coffee beans, and listening to customer gossip—everything had a process, a plan.

No chaos, no uncertainty like I’d become accustomed to growing up. It was my own peaceful sanctuary.

It helped a lot that my best friend was also my partner-in-crime barista.

Ellie moved back to Silver Creek a few years ago trying to get away from an abusive ex-boyfriend.

Colt McKinley, her childhood best friend, let her stay at the guesthouse on his family’s ranch when she showed up and had nowhere to go.

In a whirlwind romance, they fell in love and had June.

Now they’re living together on McKinley Ranch, still happily in love, planning their upcoming wedding.

I had to live vicariously through Ellie because there were definitely no hot cowboys coming my way anytime soon.

“That’s okay. My schedule is pretty flexible. Just check your calendar when you get home and let me know,” he said.

“Will do.” I hopped into my car probably a little too fast, but I couldn’t give him even a second more in case he wanted to kiss on the first date. Better not to let him get any ideas, right?

As I drove back to my place, my phone buzzed in my lap.

Ellie.

“So how was it?” she asked excitedly. Poor thing, I was about to burst her bubble.

“Torture.”

“Oh, come on, Cassie. It couldn’t have been that bad.”

“He wore a suit, El. Like slacks and a matching suit jacket. To the bar.”

“Ok, so he dresses nice. That’s a positive. Try looking at the glass half full.”

“Yes, and what happens when he wants me to start dressing nice like that too? I’m not sundress material, El. You know that. You know I like my denim and lace. I like to wear things that are black, like my soul.”

As Ellie laughed into the phone, I could hear Colt in the background, talking smack as he played with June, who was giggling her pretty little head off.

“What does your perfect husband have to say about this?” I asked, rolling my eyes.

“He says your standards are too high.” Ellie giggled.

“They are not. I just know what I want, and it’s not a man who comes dressed in a suit and Italian loafers on the first date.”

“It’s Silver Creek, Cassie. Your dating pond is only so big. It’s about to dry out.”

“I’ll take my chances,” I mumbled as I pulled into my driveway. “It’s been so much fun talking about my shit dating life, really, but I’m home now, so this is the part where I go block him on all my social media profiles.”

Ellie laughed as I ended the call.

She probably thought I was kidding, but I was dead serious. Besides, that guy wasn’t even from Silver Creek, so I could block him without worrying about an awkward run-in at the grocery store or worse, my coffee shop.

“Good riddance,” I said as I put my phone on the nightstand, flopping onto the bed. A few hours of sleep and this whole thing would be a funny memory.

As I started to fall asleep, my phone buzzed against the wooden top of the nightstand.

Groggy, I picked it up, squinting to focus on who was calling this late at night.

Mom.

“Hello?” I managed to push out.

“Hey sweetie. I was wondering if you could send me a hundred dollars. I’m short on rent again this month. I can pay you back next week when I get my paycheck.”

Here we go again.

“Yes, I’ll send it to you right now. Don’t worry about paying me back. It’s all good,” I said reluctantly.

Last time I saw my mom, she claimed she was sober. I almost believed her until she started calling every other week, not to check up on me, but to ask for money.

That’s how I could tell if she was really sober or not. When she was clean, she called to check up on me. When she was using, she called to ask for money.

In the back of my mind, I knew giving her money for rent just meant more of her check went to her extracurricular activities, but at least she had a place to stay and wasn’t on the streets. Whatever I had to tell myself to get through the day.

“You’re the best sweetie. Love you!”

Click.

And the toxic cycle continued.