Chapter 5 Cowboy Shit
Cowboy Shit
? Excuse the Mess - Ella Langley
Callie
Families file into the children’s section and take their places around the semi-circle as I take my seat in the rocking chair at the front.
I’ve never been comfortable being the center of attention, but the library is the one place where I can let my guard down.
That is, until a familiar face walks in with two little girls in tow, tying my stomach in knots.
Jaxon Hayes has a dark-haired toddler perched on his hip as a pigtailed blonde drags him through the door. “Slow down, Emmy Lou.”
“Come on, Uncle Jaxy! We’s gonna be late,” the older child, the one he called Emmy, says.
“You’re right on time,” I say, offering him a lifeline.
Jaxon’s eyes meet mine, and time seems to slow. “Hey, Callie. These are my nieces. Emmy Lou and Gracie Mae.”
The youngest rests her head against Jaxon’s chest and shoves a thumb into her mouth. He looks damn good playing the doting uncle, and I don’t have time to unpack why that thought is far too dangerous to dwell on—not when I’m ovulating and down a vibrator.
“I’m Uncle Jaxy’s best girl,” Emmy says. “But you can be his best girl, too. Mama says it’s nice to share.”
My stomach somersaults. The idea of being Jaxon’s anything is ludicrous, of course, but apparently my heart didn’t get the memo.
“Thank you, Emmy. It’s very nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much about you from your mom and Gigi." I smile and gesture toward the circle. “Feel free to take whatever empty seats you can find. We’ll get started in about five minutes.”
Emmy plops onto a bright pink beanbag chair and pats the matching one beside her.
They’re not the most adult-friendly seats in the room, but Jaxon follows her lead anyway.
I get the feeling she could ask him for the moon, and he’d find a way to lasso it for her.
His long legs are bent at odd angles, with his knees practically touching his chin.
I try—and fail—to hide my smile, a move that doesn’t seem to go unnoticed. Jaxon winks at me, and my panties disintegrate on the spot—an inconvenient state to be in, given the present company.
I set the book on my lap and clap twice, drawing the kids’ attention to the front of the room. “Hello friends! If you’re new here, my name is Callie. First, we’re going to sing a welcome song to get our wiggles out. Are you ready? Everybody, stand up.”
The kids follow along to an interactive dance and a made-up song to the tune of Old McDonald, then they settle back in their seats. I open the book to the first page and begin reading.
Kids interrupt with questions, a toddler starts crying, and someone’s son flips out of a chair, but it’s still not the most chaotic story time I’ve been a part of.
After two books, one about a cat that gets stuck in a tree and another about a little boy who refuses to go to sleep, we sing another song, and story time comes to an end.
Jaxon’s nieces are perfect angels throughout the entire event. Gracie falls asleep a few pages into the first book, but Emmy’s energy never dims. She’s like an adorable wind-up toy. She participates in every call and response with added enthusiasm, and Jaxon looks on with unfettered pride.
He’ll make an amazing dad someday. The thought comes out of nowhere, and a shock of longing pierces through me, grim and unyielding. I have no business thinking about this man in any way, let alone something so beyond the pale.
Jaxon’s massive palm engulfs Gracie’s back as he cradles the sleeping child against his chest. Emmy bounds over to me with an infectious smile. I lean forward in my chair, so we’re at eye level.
“Guess what! We have kitties in the barn. The mama cat’s name is Oreo, and her baby gots stuck in a tree one time.”
My mouth drops open on a feigned gasp. “No way. Is the kitten ok?”
She does a cute little shuffle back and forth with her feet and nods excitedly. “Uh huh. My Uncle Griff gots him down.”
“Thank goodness for Uncle Griff.” I look up at Jaxon as he sways with a sleeping Gracie in his arms. “I can’t believe the last song didn’t wake her.”
“She could sleep through a tornado,” he says. “Are you busy? I’d love to buy you lunch after that impressive performance.”
“Thanks for the offer, but I have to get back to the desk to relieve Janet.”
“Relieve her of what? Her prime nap location?”
I snort. “I don’t know. I think Gracie has her beat.”
“Yeah? You want to cuddle with me, too, Callie baby?”
I swallow against the sudden tightness in my throat. “That’s not what I meant.”
I’m a big fat liar. It’s exactly what I meant, but not aloud. I’m usually much better at filtering my thoughts, but Jaxon Hayes flusters me.
“Sure.” He grins. “I should get these girls home. Rain check?”
My filter fails me once more. “For lunch or cuddling?”
His eyes flare until the green all but disappears behind a wall of shadow. “I meant lunch, but if you want me to hold you, I’m not gonna turn down an offer like that.”
The innocent flirtation veers into dangerous waters, and I need to bring us back to shore before I get swept away. “I have to get back to work, but I’m sure I’ll see you around.”
“You can count on it.” He winks, a move I’m quickly becoming addicted to.
My responding smile is instant but quickly dissipates once they’re out of view.
After everyone has cleared out, I tidy up the area, and what little energy I have left seems to evaporate.
If I’d taken more than a second to consider the offer, I might never have agreed to lead our weekly story time—not because I don’t have the time, but because it’s forced me to re-examine my life, and everything it lacks.
I don’t dream often, but when I do, they’re full of longing for things most people take for granted. What little I do have, I had to fight for.
Truth be told, I’m tired of fighting.
I want to come home at the end of the day and sink into the arms of someone I love, preferably in a warm house instead of the backseat of my car.
I want to have children of my own and watch them fall in love with all of the same stories that saved me when I was growing up.
I didn’t have much when I ran, but there was a library in every town along the way, and I found a little peace at each one.
The girl who ran away at sixteen was already disillusioned by the cruelty of humanity.
Those silly childhood dreams of being rescued by a handsome prince died with the first blow and each one that came after.
I know now there’s no savior waiting around the corner.
The things I want for my life aren’t born of delusion, but some deep-seated desire for little more than a peaceful existence.
After my shift, I take a short drive to the lookout over Oak Ridge Lake on the Willow Valley border.
I park at the edge of the cliffside and open the lift gate to sit in the back of my car, watching the water lap against the shore.
There’s a chill in the air, but it’s nothing compared to the ice that’s made a home beneath my skin.
I’ve never been more alone—not since the days I’d spend hiding in the closet, trying to make myself invisible.
That invisibility has afforded me safety, but it’s starting to feel more like a burden.
I want someone to see me, all of me—the scars, the baggage, the broken person who still exists beneath the armor she’s built around herself.
I doubt I’ll find someone who can withstand the crushing weight of my past, so I keep my guard up and sacrifice my dreams for whatever surface-level connections life has granted me.
They’re my burdens to bear, after all. It’s a messy life, but it’s mine, or whatever’s left of it.
Five Months Ago
“Hey, Kat.” His voice is like a balm to my battered soul.
“Hey.” I pull my sweater tighter around my body as the weight of the last few days threatens to suffocate me.
I have enough money for another week in this shitty roadside motel, but if I don’t find an apartment soon, I’m going to be living in my car.
The comfortable life I built for myself has been disrupted again, all of my best-laid plans scattered to the wind.
“You ok?”
I blow out a ragged breath and smooth my hand over Atty’s fur. He’s been a trooper through all of it from the moment the fire alarm went off. It could’ve been worse, or at least that’s what I keep telling myself.
“I… really don’t know anymore.”
“What can I do? Do you want to talk or do you want to forget?”
“Can we just talk tonight?”
“Anytime. I’m here for you. You know that.”
God, I want to believe that so badly, but how do I know if any of this is real?
I guess it doesn’t matter either way. My membership lapses tomorrow, and whatever this thing is between us is coming to an end.
Despite the absurdity, it feels like yet another thing being stolen from me—my home, my life, my childhood, and now this.
I don’t know how much more loss I can bear.
“Is everything ok?” he asks. “Did something happen?”
I want to confide in him—lay my troubles at his feet and let him comfort me the way I know he would, but my pride won’t allow it. “Just… tired. There’s something I’ve been wondering.”
“One piercing for every inch.”
Good lord.
I can’t help the nervous laughter that escapes me. “Not that. Are you really a cowboy?”
“I am. I grew up on a ranch. It’s been in my family for generations.”
“So, you actually ride horses and do cowboy shit?”
“Yeah. I’m especially good at cowboy shit.” I can hear the smile in his voice.
Not for the first time, I wish I could see his face. I wish I could have his smile directed at me and feel the warmth of his touch without all these barriers between us. The thought sobers me.
“Can I ask you something else?”
“Anything.”
“Why do you do this? What do you get out of it?”
He raises a brow behind the shadow of his cowboy hat. “You mean other than the obvious?”
“Is that all it is? A way to get off?”
“Yes. And no. It’s complicated.” He’s quiet for a minute—long enough for me to twist myself into knots wondering if I overstepped. “I guess I liked the anonymity. It was somewhere I could blow off steam without the complications of relationships or feelings.”
The sting of those words reverberates through the small part of me that believed we had some kind of connection, however tenuous. You’re pathetic, Callie.
“Except that’s not what happened,” he says. “Not entirely. I got the anonymity I was craving, but I couldn’t keep the feelings at bay.” His voice is unsteady, and the way he’s staring at the screen, it’s almost like he’s seeing me. “But I think you already know that, don’t you?”
“What are you saying?”
“I want you, Kat. I want you in a way that’s dangerous to my sanity.”
My pulse picks up as the confession hangs between us. It’s everything I hoped for, but it couldn’t possibly come at a worse time. How do I say goodbye now? But how the hell do I bring him into my mess?
I can’t.
I do the only thing I can think to do. I deliver him another lie.
I pinch my eyes shut and rap my knuckles hard against the wall. “Someone’s at the door.”
“Kat—” The way he says my name is almost frantic, like he’s trying to hold on to a thread that’s unraveling faster than he can grasp it.
“I have to go.”
“Sure. Talk later?”
“Mhm. Goodbye, Cowboy.”
I don’t think twice as I end the call. His voice echoes in my mind as I close my laptop and cut off my last remaining connection to the only man who’s made me feel safe to be myself. I swallow hard against the rising tide of sadness.
It’s for the best. Now we can both move on.
You’re a liar, Callie Cooper.