Cowgirl Don’t Cry #3
I thought of the texts from him I still hadn’t replied to.
My nerves prickled to life, my chest suddenly feeling ridiculously tight.
The warmth in the store turned up another notch, going from comforting to scalding in a heartbeat.
The impulse to run itched through my veins and it took everything in me to not dart out of the store.
Stop thinking about it.
I forced air into my tight lungs and glanced down at the belt Hux was holding. “That for Quinn?” I asked.
He didn’t try to fight me on the subject change, he simply nodded. “I wanted to get her somethin’ that felt more like her. She ain’t a leather belt and buckle kinda girl. But I hope she’ll like to wear somethin’ like this with one of her dresses.”
I looked at the rose gold concho belt. Suns and flowers were artfully etched into the metal, along with what looked like amethyst stones and were those— “Are those diamonds?”
Hux shrugged. “Hell if I know.”
“They are,” the man on the other side of the counter replied.
I marveled at the belt. It totally gave me Quinn vibes. And knowing her, she’d probably never take it off. I couldn’t imagine what he paid to have this made.
“Think she’ll like it?” Hux asked. And the worry and raw earnestness in his voice made something in my heart melt. For just a moment, I wondered what it would be like to have someone care that much about me.
Swallowing back the lump forming in my throat, I managed to get out, “She’s gonna love it.”
By the time we got back to the ranch, it was almost five.
Hux grabbed the gift bag and aimed his gaze my way as he placed a hand on the door handle. “Thanks for takin’ me, Ollie Pop.”
I rolled my eyes at the obnoxious nickname, trying and failing to bite back a grin. “No problem, old man. What’re you gonna tell Quinn when she asks where we went?”
“I’ll just tell her I had to go out and do errands and needed a driver.”
“Nice.” I huffed. “So what time are you leaving tonight for that thing?”
“Around 6:15. It ain’t too late to change your mind, you know.” I didn’t miss the hopeful note in his tone. It was subtle, but there.
“Hard pass, but thanks.” I huffed, “I’ll probably just find something to eat and binge a few episodes of House until I pass out.”
“Nice.” He chuckled. “Well, offer still stands.”
I reached across the cab and nudged him playfully. “Go get ready, old man. I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow.”
Leaving him by the guest house he and Quinn still decided to occupy so they could use the main house for guests and events, I made my way back to the bunkhouse.
Was I being stubborn for not going tonight?
The thought hit me way the fuck out of nowhere.
Why did I feel the need to go? Number one, it was at a church.
Number two, it was for a bunch of kids who were in the same situation I’d been in my whole life, and I wasn’t too keen on having to relive those days around a bunch of people.
Number three, Violet would be there and I hadn’t been lying earlier.
While I was a step—or a couple—above that buckle bunny bitch Cash hooked up with in the past, I certainly wasn’t a Jacie Lynn.
All were completely valid reasons for not going tonight.
So why the fuck did I feel like I was missing out?
It’s the holidays, I told myself. It had to be. That’s why I was emotional as fuck and more flighty than a damn bird looking to head south in the winter.
I brushed away the thought. Rusty and I could chill on the couch, watching TV ‘til one—or both—of us fell asleep.
Opening the door to the bunkhouse, I was greeted by the usual chaos that ensued every evening.
Wyatt and Brooks were raiding the kitchen, while Dylan sat in nothing but a towel on the couch while watching something on The Cowboy Channel.
The kitchen island was spotless, and Walker was nowhere in sight. She must be getting ready.
“Ollie!” Dylan shouted from his spot on the couch. He was always so happy-go-lucky, a big ol’ grin on his face. He wasn’t quite so magnanimous as Cash, but there was definitely a sparkle in him that a younger me would have appreciated.
“Hey, boys. What’s for dinner?”
“Didn’t you hear?” Wyatt said before taking a long swig of a beer. “We’re all goin’ to the Christmas pageant at the church.”
I groaned, making my way towards them. “Seriously, you idiots are going to that too?”
“Why not?” Dylan called from the couch. “It’s free food.”
I huffed. Great. So literally everyone else was going, except me. Rolling my eyes, I let out a loud huff. “I guess it’s just me and Rusty tonight then.”
Without another word, I stomped for my bedroom, tossing the door open with far more vitriol than was probably necessary before heading to look through my duffel bag of clothes I hadn’t unpacked from my failed escape.
I didn’t turn to Walker as she walked in and plopped herself down on my bed.
I didn’t so much as mutter a word, and yet a satisfied smirk pulled on her lips when I turned my questioning gaze on her.
“So, what’cha gonna wear?” she asked, her voice cheery and sing-songy.
I rolled my eyes but started tossing my limited respectable options at her. “Help me choose.”