Cowboy Seeks Bride (18 page)

The coyote figured out pretty quick that he’d bitten off more than he could chew but he couldn’t get away from the jackass so he put up a hell of a fight. Mud and water shot up like a geyser all around Haley. She threw her bar of soap at the coyote and screamed, “Get the hell out of here, you mangy bastard. Eeyore, go back to the bank and give him some space.”

Neither animal listened. All the frantic carrying on soon churned the creek up into a muddy mess. Haley looked like she’d been a contestant in a mud-wrestling contest—and lost. She had waded right into the middle of the fight, kicking the coyote and trying to separate them.

She didn’t even see all six cowboys coming at the creek in a dead run. Until Dewar waded right out into the water in his sock feet, kicked the shit out of the coyote’s ribs, and removed his clean shirt all in one motion, she wasn’t aware of anything but protecting her donkey. When she came to her senses she was covered in mud, wearing Dewar’s red and black plaid shirt, and five cowboys were staring at her from the edge of the creek.

The coyote finally got loose from Eeyore and took off whining with his tail between his legs. Eeyore brayed a few jackass cuss words at him and calmly walked over to see about Haley. She tugged the edge of Dewar’s shirt down over her butt and kissed the donkey smack between the eyes.

“Good boy,” she said. “You showed that mean old coyote who was boss, didn’t you?”

“You scared the living shit out of me,” Dewar gasped as he pulled her close to his chest. “I thought that damn coyote was eating you alive.”

“We’ll be getting on back to camp,” Coosie called out.

“Oh my God!” Haley clamped a hand over her mouth. “Did they see me naked?”

“Honey, you’re so covered up with mud and there was so much fightin’ goin’ on out here that I don’t think they saw very much.” Dewar grinned. “It looked like a spewing volcano raining down mud and cuss words. Damn, I didn’t know a girl could use that many bad words in such a short time.”

Haley’s cheeks were so hot that the mud covering her face felt like it was drying and cracking. “I can’t ever look them in the eye again,” she whispered.

“They’re going to tease you for sure.”

She stepped back, grabbed at the edges of the shirt, and pulled it around her naked breasts then realized it was Dewar’s shirt. “Oh, no! Your clean shirt. I’m so sorry. And you’re all dirty just from touching me.”

“Don’t be. It’s worth getting it dirty to see you unhurt. I do think you should go on up the creek a little ways and get cleaned up again. I’ll go back to camp, wash the mud off, and you can…” He grabbed his ribs and laughter rang out across the land.

“It’s not funny,” she said.

Eeyore let out a long pitiful bray and Dewar laughed even harder. “Even he thinks it is.”

Haley fished her soap out of the water, stomped out of the creek, picked up her clean things, and held them out away from her body. “I’ll see you both after a while.”

Eeyore dropped his head and followed her up the creek, braying the whole way.

She glanced over her shoulder when the laughter died down. Dewar was on his way back to camp where he’d wash up in a basin of water. Damn that coyote anyway. If it showed its face again, Eeyore would have to stand in line behind her to even get a single kick in.

Dewar was finishing up his laundry when she got back to camp. He reached for the dirty shirt she had in her hand and grinned.

She whipped around and faced the whole bunch of grinning cowboys. “Okay, get it over with and then I don’t want to hear any more about it the whole trip.”

Finn held up a hand. “I just want to say that we thought you were dyin’ and we didn’t even know that you mud wrestled. Guess it shouldn’t surprise us after the way you tried to kill a couple of kids with buckshot.”

Sawyer went next. “I wouldn’t wrestle you, the way you and Eeyore put the fear of a jackass and a redhead into that coyote. Poor thing probably didn’t even go home to his wife and kids, he was so embarrassed.”

“Okay, Rhett,” she said when he didn’t chime in with a comment.

“Ma’am. I just got one thing to say. You’d do to ride the river with if you can whoop a mangy old coyote.”

“Buddy or Coosie?”

They both shook their heads, but the way Coosie bit his lip, she knew he was barely keeping the laughter inside.

Dewar motioned for her to toss her things in with his and the instant that her hands joined his in the soapy water, she knew she’d made a big mistake. She blushed again when their slick hands kept getting tangled up together. By the time their clothes were hanging from the only empty bow on the chuck wagon, she was eyeing the trees and hoping that Dewar didn’t fall asleep too quickly that evening.

The evening wore on and on and she thought the cowboys would never stop talking and go to sleep. Then they fussed around and fidgeted in their sleep forever before they settled into that deep, snore-producing sleep that she wanted to hear. Crazy how Joel’s snoring about drove her crazy and yet she couldn’t wait to hear the cousins, Coosie, and Buddy’s rattling that night.

She heard Dewar moving about even though he was as quiet as possible. She saw him go to the chuck wagon and pick up the quilt. Then his shadow melted into the trees. She carefully pulled her boots back on, holding her breath when her foot made a thumping noise as it hit bottom, for fear it would wake someone up. She slipped away so quietly that Eeyore didn’t even follow her.

She found Dewar sitting on the quilt staring up at the stars.

“I keep saying that you are beautiful, but it’s the truth. I can’t keep my eyes off you in the daytime, but at night with the moonlight shining in your hair, you take my breath away,” he whispered.

“Even with mud caked all over my body and screaming like a banshee?” she asked.

“Yes, ma’am, even when…” He grinned.

“The boys were nice about it.”

Dewar reached up and grabbed her hand. “Honey, they were afraid you might tie into them like you did that coyote and if you did, your jackass would join in the fight and they’d lose face when you two whooped them.”

“Thank you, sir. You want a lap dance tonight?” She started humming a country ballad and unbuttoning her shirt in her first striptease. His green eyes were hungry with want as he watched her.

He reached for her. “I want you tonight. I’ve wanted you all day, Haley.”

She stepped back. “Not tonight, darlin’. Tonight I’m a stripper and you are a paying customer. You cannot touch me.” She ran her fingertip down his jawline and made a couple of circles on the dimple in his chin.

She straddled his lap and ran her hands through his thick dark hair, then she unbuttoned his shirt, one slow button at a time, and brought his nipples to hardened attention with her lips.

“Lord, Haley, I can’t take much more of this!”

“What do you want to do?”

“Touch you. My hands hurt for wanting to touch you.”

“Only paying customers get to touch the merchandise,” she teased.

“Name your price.”

“Two nights in the same room at the hotel.”

His hands left his side and slid down her back, unfastening the bra hooks on the way. “You got it, darlin’.”

Before she could jerk his jeans off, he had already thrown her bra into the pile of clothing at the end of the quilt and was working on taking her underpants off with his teeth, tasting every sweet, clean inch of flesh as he drug them toward her toes.

“You taste wonderful,” he said.

“So do you.” She latched on to his neck and remembered just in time not to suck a hickey there.

His lips found hers at the same time her back arched toward him, inviting him to do more than sample the goods. Her legs parted and then were around him tightly. He took her with a firm thrust as his tongue and hers met in a sweet fiery kiss. The combination was so heady that she moaned.

“What? Did I hurt you?” he asked hoarsely.

“No, it’s the fire in the sex and the sugar in the kiss. They work together to set my whole body to blazing.”

He smiled. “Yes, ma’am. It sure does.”

The first time was fast, furious, and wild. She was panting so hard when they tumbled over the edge into a big black hole called sexual satisfaction that she couldn’t even breathe. The second time was slow and deliberate, so much so that she felt as if Dewar was making love to her rather than having sex with her.

It brought tears to her eyes.

Dewar got that antsy feeling down deep in his soul that said something wasn’t right. He turned around in his saddle and checked what cows he could see. They were all following the longhorn just like normal. The feeling stayed with him so he motioned for Buddy to ride point and he rode back along the herd. Finn, Sawyer, and Rhett were all bored but fine so he kept riding toward the chuck wagon.

“How are things going back here?” he asked Coosie.

“Cattle is moving right along, but I lost that dumb jackass and Haley back there about a quarter of a mile. She said she was going to ride through that little cemetery we passed by and the donkey stayed with her.”

“Well, shit!”

“I told her not to stay too long and to ride out before she lost sight of us,” Coosie said.

***

Something about that little cemetery had intrigued Haley. When she rode back to look at it, she found one of those historical markers that Oklahoma is so famous for, affixed to a metal post just outside the cemetery. She slid off Apache’s back and read that the house was an old saloon, and had been added to the national register of historical homes and places fifty years ago. It had played a big part in the Chisholm Trail cattle runs, and was now a museum for pieces donated from that time period. Down below it was another little sign, not nearly as fancy, that said the museum was open by appointment only. No admission fee. Donations accepted.

Haley led Apache and read the names on the stones and wooden crosses as she meandered. They were the strangest tombstones she’d ever seen, bearing names like Sassy Sally, Sweet Jane, Jewel, Katy, and Pretty Inez.

She’d stopped to look at one that said Big Joy on it. The stone was bigger and fancier than all the rest. She was so intent on studying it that she didn’t hear a thing, but she sure felt the barrel of a gun when it was stuck firmly against her backbone. She slowly raised her arms and said softly, “I’m not armed and I’m just looking around.”

“Museum is closed up tight today so get on your horse and get on out of here,” a thin voice said.

Haley looked over her shoulder. The woman holding the gun was frail and tiny, but there was a look on her face that said she’d shoot now and ask questions later.

“I’m with the cattle trail run. I just stopped to look around, honestly,” Haley said.

“That television shit they been talkin’ about on the news? You part of that? What are you? The camp whore?” The gun lowered a few inches.

Red-hot heat flushed Haley’s face and she stammered, “No, ma’am. I’m the one that takes notes to send back to the television station that’s going to produce the reality show.”

A smile twitched at the corners of the old lady’s mouth. “Well, I’ll be damned. They let women folks really do that, do they?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She sat down on Big Joy’s tombstone and propped the gun beside her. “Put your hands down, girl, and sit down here beside me. Y’all goin’ to bring that show right through here?”

Haley obeyed. “Yes, ma’am, we sure are.”

“And you plannin’ on stoppin’ at my museum?”

“We could if there’s something interesting in the old saloon.”

The woman cackled and slapped her thigh. “If I don’t shoot you, can I talk on your show?”

Haley swallowed hard. “It could be arranged.”

The old woman stuck out her hand. “We’ll shake on it. Woman’s word is good as a signature in blood, I always did say.”

“I’ll shake if you don’t shoot me,” Haley said.

“You drive a hard bargain. I figured you for someone who’d be casin’ my cemetery for crosses to take home and hang on her wall. They’re the big thing now, you know.”

“I wouldn’t rob a historical landmark,” Haley said.

The woman cackled again. “Historical, my ass.” Then she really did laugh.

Was the old girl daft? Had she lost her mind completely?

“What do you want to tell on television?” Haley asked.

“My name is Sadie and I’ll be the last one buried in this cemetery someday. I’m the last living whore that ran the biggest whorehouse on the Chisholm Trail. Miz Big Joy right here was the first one who set up shop. And them dumbass politicians need to know what a dumbass thing they’ve done. Nobody has ever listened to me. No sir, but if I was to tell it on television, why, they’d have to admit they made a big mistake. I betcha it was one of them pork barrel things or some shit like that. If somebody found a historical site then somebody would donate a million dollars to a fund.” She laughed again.

Haley didn’t want to get entangled in a political war about historical sites on her reality show, but Sadie had sure piqued her curiosity.

“It goes like this,” Sadie said. “The first whore, that’d be my five or six times back great-granny, set up the original house for the cowboys on the Chisholm Trail. She had a daughter that she intended was going to be a doctor and she sure was a great one. Delivered more babies around these here parts than anyone and cured all kinds of sickness. Came home to die, though. She’s probably the only one should have a cross in here, girl. That’d be Katy over there.” She pointed.

Haley gasped. “You mean this is a prostitutes’ cemetery?”

Sadie slapped her leg again. “Damn sure is. Ever one of them ’cept Katy is a whore that is buried here. I tried to tell ’em fifty years ago when they got a bug up their ass and put that fancy sign out there callin’ my house a saloon, that it was a whorehouse and there was a difference in selling whiskey and sex.”

“But…” Haley looked around at the graves.

“But oh, no, they declared it a saloon and made it into a museum. Then they hired me to come down here and babysit the place two hours a day when somebody makes an appointment. Give me a good salary to do it even if they wouldn’t listen to me.”

“And you want to broadcast
that
on national television?”

Sadie nodded. “Before I up and die, I want folks to know that I am the last living whore from a long line of businesswomen that started back more’n a hundred years ago. It’s something to be proud of, darlin’. That’s why I keeps the grass mowed on a cemetery full of women with names that don’t make a bit of sense.”

***

Dewar found her at the back side of the cemetery. Her horse was tethered to the top rail of a fence and she was sitting on the porch steps of a weathered old two-story house. An elderly lady sat in a rocking chair under the shade of the wide porch and the two women were deep in conversation.

“Haley?” he called out.

“Get off that horse and come on up here. You’ve got to meet Miz Sadie. I found it, Dewar. Never thought I would, but I found a brothel right here on the trail.”

“Brothel my ass, girl. Brothel is just a fancy name for a whorehouse,” Sadie said loudly.

Haley smiled at Dewar. “Okay, then it’s an old whorehouse and Sadie is going to tell my contestants all about it on my show. It might be the only one left between Ringgold and Dodge City.”

Dewar slid out of the saddle, tied his horse to the rail beside Apache, and brushed the dust from his shirt.

“So this is the young man.” Miz Sadie smiled.

She looked like a dried-up potato with thin wisps of hair that had been pinned up on top of her head. Her hands were almost skeletal, and she wore a calico dress that reached her ankles. Bright blue eyes twinkled in a bed of deep wrinkles, and when she smiled, the whole porch lit up.

“This is Dewar, and Dewar, this is Sadie.”

“Dewar is an Irish name, right?” she said.

“Yes, ma’am. And you live here?” Dewar asked.

“No, you sexy thing.” She winked seductively. “I live a couple of miles from here. I’ll be going home here in a few minutes. This here is the last whorehouse still standing and be damned if them ignorant politicians didn’t call it a saloon. In spite of that sign out there, it needs to be remembered for what it was. I bet all them whores out there in the cemetery is turnin’ over in their graves. Hell, they was paid to pleasure a man, not whet his whistle.”

“So it closed down fifty years ago?” Dewar asked.

“That’s right, but there’s some good stories I can tell your people about it while it was still up and going strong. Stories they won’t see in all that junk they call museum pieces inside the house. Why, back in 1920, a tornado come through here and picked up the outhouse and slung it right through the parlor. Shit flew everywhere and covered the walls of the parlor and the tornado had picked up some chickens along the way and pitched them right into the parlor with the outhouse so there was bird feathers stuck to the wall with all that mess.”

Haley giggled. “Please remember that story and tell it.”

“I sure will if you’ll put it right on the television set. I’ll make us up some sweet tea and tell you stories that are real, not a crock of shit about a saloon, and I’ll even put on my fancy dress I wore back in them days. I might have to take it up a little here and there because I was a bigger woman. It’s red satin with black under-drawers.”

“That would be great,” Haley said. “Did anyone get hurt when the outhouse blew into the parlor?”

“Granny said that the madam was the only one hurt. A chunk of the outhouse hit her right square between the eyes and knocked her colder’n clabber. Her workin’ girls thought she was dead for sure but she come around and told them to get the house cleaned up and ready for business.”

“What else happened?” Haley wished she had a tape recorder to tape what Sadie was telling.

“The flu epidemic come around right after World War I, and that’s when the cemetery came into being. They was the ones that have died while in business right here at this house. I remember some of them and some of them I’m related to. I done got my stone bought and it’s got
Sweet
Sadie, the last one standing
engraved on it. Don’t need to know when I was born or when I died, just that I was.”

“Thank you, Sadie,” Haley said.

The lady grabbed the arms of the rocker and hefted herself up. “If I was a younger woman I might open it up again just to take you upstairs for a poke, Dewar.”

Dewar turned fifty shades of red and Haley giggled.

She picked up her shotgun and headed around the house. “A man that can still blush. He’s worth his weight in gold, Haley. You might want to hang on to him.”

In a few minutes they heard an engine start up and then a four-wheeler shot past the end of the house going almost as fast as Loretta’s had. Sadie stuck one hand up in a wave as she went by.

“Wow!” Dewar exclaimed.

“I’ve changed my mind. I want to grow up and be like her.” Haley stood up and brushed the dust from the back of her jeans. “So, cowboy, you’ve come to my house of sin. What’s your pleasure today?” she teased.

“What do you do and how much do you charge?” he played along.

“According to my research the going rate was a dollar and…”

He picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder. “Darlin’, I’ll take a hundred dollars’ worth of whatever you’re selling.”

She giggled. “You think you can stand that much? Where are you taking me?”

“I’m putting you on your horse. Much as I’d like to give you all my money, I figure in about five minutes Coosie will stop the drive and come looking for us,” he said.

“Well, shit!”

“Say good-bye to your whorehouse, Haley,” he said as he plopped her down in the saddle.

“No, I hate good-byes. I’m not ever saying good-bye to you, Dewar. We’ll just have to agree to walk away and not look back when the job is finished.” She bent down and kissed him soundly. “And I mean it.”

“Me too! I hate good-byes worse than anything in the world. Both my sisters live in the Texas Panhandle. When they come home, I make an excuse not to be there when they leave.”

“I’m not your sister.”

“Darlin’, that’s one thing I’m sure of and I’ll hate telling you good-bye even worse than I do them,” he said.

***

That night she could hear the faint drone of traffic out on Highway 160, far enough away that they couldn’t even see headlights, but the noise seemed strange to Haley’s ears after eighteen days of very little but crickets, tree frogs, and cows at night.

She was curled up on her side when she felt Dewar mold himself around her.

“You okay?” he asked.

“I’ll get it sorted out,” she whispered.

“We’ll get it sorted out together, Haley. I’ve never felt like this about another woman. Fate has sure played a trick on both of us, hasn’t it?”

“Damn straight. I didn’t even like you sitting up there on that horse when I drove up into your yard. I thought you were the most egotistical fool I’d ever seen.”

He brushed her hair back and kissed her neck. “Well, I never thought you’d be able to ride a horse even one day. You proved me wrong too.”

“Guess the April Fools’ joke was on both of us. Our hearts didn’t get the message that we aren’t compatible except in bed,” she said.

“We haven’t even been to bed.” He chuckled. “We’ve been to quilt and leaves and even water, but not to bed. Won’t know about bed until we try it.”

She giggled. “I damn sure intend to try it when we get to Dodge City.”

“If we make it through the bed test, would you consider going out to dinner with me when we get back home?”

“Where?” she asked.

“I’ll drive to Dallas or you can come to Ringgold. Got a nice little country restaurant up the road from the ranch called Chicken Fried.”

“A real date?”

“Yes, ma’am, with flowers and a walk under the stars afterwards.”

“And a trip to your bedroom?”

“Not on the first date. I’ve never gotten lucky on a first date.”

She giggled again. “Your luck could be changing, honey.”

***

On the nineteenth day of the trip they pulled up at noon beside the winding Chikaskia River again. Haley could see the steeple of a small church to the west and when she’d eaten a biscuit with ham and leftover eggs stuffed inside it, she started walking in that direction. It didn’t look to be too far because she could make out the individual red bricks.

“I’ll be back by the time y’all pull out,” she called over her shoulder.

She’d only gone a few yards when suddenly Dewar’s fingers laced in hers and he slowed his stride to match hers.