After going in circles on the same fantastic merry-go-round with the sheriff, ‘Go stay with family!’ to which I responded, ‘I don’t have any family!’, we decided I would stay right where I was. I couldn’t be content to be safe somewhere else while my home, animals and land were in danger.
The sheriff wasn’t happy about it, but he couldn’t make me leave. It would’ve been nice if I had a big, strong, handsome man to stay with me and watch my back, but since said big, strong, handsome man was persona non grata around my place, it wasn’t going to happen. I would’ve settled for my wolf, but he had disappeared too.
Vince had called to give me an update on the case. “Vernon McNabb is going to be the judge over the proceedings.” My heart lifted. My grandpa knew Vernon, they went to the same church for years.
“Well, that’s good, right?”
“He’s a good judge. But your cousins are trying to get him to recues himself because of his relationship with your grandfather.”
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me!” I moaned. I was getting really sick of my cousin’s crap. They’re the ones that wanted this trial and yet it seemed like they were being pulled kicking and screaming.
“In my opinion, I don’t think he will. Considering nearly everyone in Madera knew your grandfather, there would be several other judges that would have to as well. My gut tells me they’re just trying to get the trial moved out of the county in hopes of getting a more favorable verdict.”
“Let’s hope Judge McNabb doesn’t then.”
“We’ll get through this, Shelby. Don’t worry.”
Ha. Yeah, okay,
I thought to myself before grabbing a beer out of the fridge.
So when Jesse called Saturday I was sitting on my couch still in my pajamas at seven in the evening.
So what if I’m moping,
I rationalized to myself,
I have one man who wants to kill me, two cousins that want to screw me and another man who wants nothing to do with me.
I felt so awesome, I’d broken out the dark chocolate with sea salt, AKA crack, and some Velvet Merlin.
For those of you not familiar with Velvet Merlin, it’s not a brand of pot, but rather Firestone Brewery’s oatmeal stout which paired with dark chocolate is almost as good as sex.
You wouldn’t know!
I thought bitterly as I took a big swig of the beer as I answered the phone.
“Shelby’s house of depressing women,” I said in a sing-song voice. “Press one for ‘drinks alone’, press two for ‘clinically depressed and on medication.’”
Jesse chuckled. “Well, I’m just glad you’re cracking jokes and not offing yourself. Hey, Ty and I were gonna go to the bar and hang out a little. We figured it’d be good for you to get out of that trailer and shake your tail feathers.” I shuddered.
That bar would be filled with every Albert over the age of fifteen and every other redneck cowboy that lived around here.
However,
I thought as I looked at the last lonely bottle of beer in the six-pack,
I’m running low on booze and need to start hitting the hard stuff soon.
“Sure, Jess. You driving?” I asked, knowing she would catch my unsaid statement. I’ve already started drinking and shouldn’t drive because my Blazer means too much to me to total.
“Absolutely! Pick you up in fifteen.”
The thing that made Jesse such a great friend was she knew exactly what I needed to cheer me up; getting tipsy and being hit on by guys. It’s always a real ego booster when the majority of men in the bar want to have sex with you.
Even though you won’t, it still feels nice to know you’re wanted.
Now, as I stood up and walked, albeit a little wobbly, to my bedroom, I had to focus on what to wear. Normally I just wore a pair of my staple Wranglers, boots and a long sleeved button-up shirt. Not tonight though.
You want Cash to hear how hot you looked tonight,
a snarky voice said in my head.
It seemed like I talked to myself more after a few.
You want him to know that all the other guys wanted you.
Of course I did. That’s why I picked up the short jean skirt, a pair of my pink and green dress boots, and a white tank top that had a small jeweled pattern on it.
I stuffed my girls into a cute, pink push-up bra so just a hint of the lace showed underneath the tank and it almost looked like I was a solid B cup. I put on a light dusting of powder, some green shadow to accent my eyes, and mascara. I let my hair out of the tight French braid it was in and put my hat on over the wavy locks. I checked myself out and thought I looked pretty good.
The skirt ought to do the trick, though.
When Jesse and Tyler pulled up in his sheriff car I was sitting on my porch steps waiting in the driveway. I’d grabbed one of my two purses I owned and slipped my little SIG 9 into it. There still was a guy out there that wanted me dead so once again I was not far from a firearm. I had a permit though. I thought about putting it in my leather jacket I was wearing, but I could get at my purse faster. Jesse just took one look at me and grinned ear to ear.
“I see someone’s out to make another certain someone regret his actions very, very much.” She laughed. “Good for you Shells!”
Tyler
chuckled and shook his head. “That poor, poor bastard.” Jesse feigned outrage and pinched his arm, which only served to make him laugh louder.
I just smiled. “You’d better freakin’ believe it, Ty.”
When we pulled up to the general store bar it looked busier than I’d seen it in a long time. There were so many cars, motorcycles and big cowboy trucks parked in front that we had to park around back and hoof it. We walked up to the entrance and could hear the thumping of the country music and the loud voices of the patrons.
It made me nervous knowing so many people were there. I hadn’t come to the bar since the episode with Matt Albert, Coors and the resulting fight. I smiled at the memory. Even though I had walked away smelling like stale beer, the guy that spilled it walked away with a black eye and a broken nose.
Courtesy of me kickin’ his ass.
I paused to look at Jesse before we walked in, took a deep breath and pushed open the door.
If it had been a movie the jukebox would have scratched to a stop and complete silence would have accompanied the looks everyone in the bar gave us.
They’re looking at you
, said my inner bully.
Happy now?
As it happened, Jimmy Buffet and Alan Jackson kept on singing about Hurricanes and five o’clock as we strolled up to the bar. I tried to avoid all the stares I was receiving and finally people started talking again.
Relieved, I smiled and waved Buster Albert over so he could start our drinks. He finished pouring the shots of tequila for Sherrie and Theresa, Matt Albert’s sisters who may or may not have been of age. Tyler just avoided looking so he didn’t have to pull Buster’s liquor license and piss off every denizen of Raymond while he was at it.
“Well looky what we’ve got here,” Buster said as he scanned me from head to toe unapologetically. “You’re in fine form tonight, girlie. What’ll you have?” I smiled back at Buster.
Buster was nearing forty and decent looking. Tall and lean, he always wore tight Wranglers and tank tops displaying his muscled arms. He’d never lacked in the girl department and always seemed to take it personally I hadn’t been among their vast numbers. I had never minded his attentions since he poured heavy and nine times out of ten didn’t charge me.
“I’ll take a shot of Gentleman’s Jack, and then a Jack n’ Coke, please,” I said sweetly while I leaned over the bar a little. Since I was already a couple in I didn’t mind using my feminine wiles, or the fact that he appreciated them.
His eyes widened as he took in my mood and then flashed me a wicked grin. “Sure thing, honey.”
By the time I had thrown back the whiskey and the cocktail, Jesse and Ty were just getting their drinks. Jesse used to get the same prompt service I did, more so usually, but now that she was married to an officer of the law she had to wait just like the rest. I motioned for Buster to pour another round as I turned on my stool and leaned against the bar on my elbows.
I surveyed the crowd and saw a lot of familiar faces. Boys I’d went to high school with, a couple cowboys that helped me on the ranch every now and then, and a few girls I knew but didn’t like. I wasn’t really interested in talking to anyone. When Buster walked over with my next shot I threw it back same as the first but went a little easier on the cocktail. I was already feeling nicely buzzed and I knew I should take it slow before I went over the hill into vomit-town.
I was actually feeling pretty happy until
he
walked in. I don’t know why I didn’t think Cash would be there tonight. I couldn’t think of a good reason why he wouldn’t want to go out on a Saturday night. He walked in through the doors and, like he had Shelby radar, swiveled around and gazed right at me.
It was the first time I had seen him without his uniform. He had on a pair of Wranglers that looked like they’d been painted on his sweet behind. A long sleeved Cinch button-up shirt spanned his broad, strong shoulders and was unbuttoned at the collar showing a little bit of chest hair and a clavicle I wanted to suck on. Put it altogether with a pair of Justin boots and a cowboy hat over his dark wavy hair and he was the Marlboro Man.
Damn…
I moaned wretchedly and spun around, putting my back to him and thudded my head on the bar. My eyes hurt just looking at his gorgeousness. Jesse frowned when she saw my reaction and frowned harder when she saw its cause. She elbowed Tyler in the ribs and whispered something to him.
He looked at her and then turned to look at me. I must have looked pitiful because he stood up angrily and marched over to Cash, only to tow him over to the pool table and rack up a game.
That’s Ty’s brand of tough love for you.
Jesse scooted over next to me and put her arm around my shoulders.
“I told Ty his job was to keep Cash away from you tonight. You ought to be safe. Now let’s see about getting you a dancing partner.” She swiveled around and surveyed her subjects. “Where’s Matt when you need him?”
I shuddered. Matt was okay when he was sober, but this late on a Saturday night he’d probably be a couple sheets to the wind, if not three or four.
“That’s okay, Jess. I don’t really want to dance anyway,” I muttered into my drink.
That’s when I felt someone lean against my back and grab me around my middle. Whoever it was pulled me off my stool and swung me around. Before I could get my breath back, I was spun around to face my attacker. I could have fainted in delight.
“Jack!”
I squealed and jumped on him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and my legs around his waist. He laughed and swung me around a few times before setting me back down. Still grinning, he pulled me back over to the bar and ordered a beer. We sat down and it was Jesse’s turn to give him a rib-splitting hug.
Jack Anderson had gone to school with us our whole life, and was one of the few guys I considered my friend. He had done the whole AG and FFA thing with us, and had very nearly gone into the pro rodeo circuit before enlisting into the Army. He was our age, a little less than six feet tall, but built like a tank. He’d only gotten more bulky when he was in the military. His sandy brown hair was cut short and his chocolate brown eyes were warm with laughter; he looked good.
“Oh, girls,” he said with laughter in his deep voice. “Did you miss me?”
Jesse and I both pretended like we hadn’t even though we were acting like kids on Christmas morning. Jack had been stationed in Iraq for years, with only a few months home on leave, and as he was a green beret, he had been teaching the locals how to fight the insurgents. He was very tan, a little leaner than I’d remembered since the last time he was home, and he looked tired.
“Oh, Jack, I’m so glad you’re home!” I exclaimed. “You look like hell! How long are you going to be around?” He laughed and took a long pull from his Sierra Nevada before he answered.