No one snuck up on me last night. I pulled off somewhere in Colorado. The views just keep getting prettier and prettier the higher I drive. Texas has a lot of plains. Up here the mountains don’t stop. There’s still snow on the peaks of some of them. I drive steadily down a county road that looks like it’s headed straight out to the middle of nowhere. I passed a small town a ways back. The sign said,Amber Ridge.
It isn't long before the Australian man voicing my map, talks. “In two hundred feet, turn right, your destination is on the right.”
I always talk back. “Yeah Steve, I can see it.” I named him after Steve Irwin. He’s the only Australian I know, so it made sense. At the head of a gravel road there’s a woodenarchway with a sign hanging from the top that says,Silo Springs Ranch. I don’t know how many cowboys run this outfit, but they better watch out because I’m hell on wheels and if they get in my way, I’ll run ‘em the hell over.
I turn slowly, careful not to whip and jack-knife my horse trailer. I drive under the arch and down the road a short way. As I get closer, approaching my new home, I can see there’s a cowboy waiting at the iron gate. He’s got on a denim button-up shirt, and the dirtiest cowboy hat I’ve ever seen. Hopefully, he’s ready to let me in. I unroll the window and stick my elbow out.
“Hi, I’m Dixie Wilder. You?”
He raises his hand and uses a finger to flick his hat up so I can see his eyes better. “Toby. We spoke on the phone. You sure don’t look like a cowboy. Nothing like what I pictured in my head.”
I scoff and turn my nose to look out my windshield. “Oh—and what exactly were you picturing? Someone who looks a little more like you? Someone who never brushes their damn hat off because apparentlyfeltain't as sacred up here in the mountains?” I turn my nose back just in time to watch him have the fuckin’ nerve to smirk before swiping his tongue across his bottom lip.
“I guess you could say I was picturing something a little like that—yeah.”
“Well, crumple that picture up and burn it. I’m a cowboy. I ain’t no man. Open the gate and show me where to park so I can put my horse up.”
I might ride like a man and talk like one too, but I’ve never been able to hide my face from one. I don’t wear alick of makeup, but somehow they still think I’m pretty. Pretty enough to grab, pretty enough to hurt.
Toby opens the gate and I pull through it. He stretches his arm and points to an open area with a couple other trucks, so I roll over there and park. Cutting the engine, I reach under the seat for my gun and lift my shirt with my other hand so I can holster it on my hip. I go nowhere without it.
By the time I open my door, there’s a handful of cowboys walking up to my horse trailer. I jump out and race around to get the latch before they do. Chivalry isn’t something I normally accept. I can hold my own. “I got her.” I say to the men walking toward me. One of ‘em jogs a little faster, still attempting to help. When he greets me it doesn’t feel like he’s got ulterior motives. I think this one might be okay.
“Brian.” He introduces himself. “I’ll hold the door while you get your ride.”
I nod back, acknowledging and accepting his help. As long as no one tries to treat me like a girl, I won’t fight back. I put a boot up on the edge and step into the trailer. As I move toward Blaze, she turns her neck and catches my eye. I reach out and place my palm gently on her neck, brushing it up and down.
“Welcome home, girl. It’s gonna be great. We’ll stick together.”
She’s wearing a halter, so I wrap my fingers around the lead rope, and guide her out. Brian points toward the barn and tells me to pick whatever empty stall I want, so that’s what I do. I get Blaze comfortable and make sure she’s alright before heading back out to get myduffle bag and unload the rest of my belongings. I don’t have much, so it will be easy to situate in the bunkhouse.
Brian’s still standing by my truck as I walk up. He reaches his hand out but I don’t shake hands with strangers. I don’t like the risk of being manhandled. So instead, I bring my hand up to my hip and casually wrap my fingers around the grip of my weapon.
He smirks. “I see. No problem… What's your name?”
“Dixie Wilder. Where do I sleep? I’ll just bring my duffle bag right now. I can come back for the rest.”
Brian throws his head sideways. “Come on.”
I open the back door of my black F-250 and swing my bag over my shoulder. I follow Brian down a small hill and around the side of what I can tell is the main house. It’s white with blue shutters and a big wrap-around porch. It looks nice.
The bunkhouse is white too, but the doors are red and there’s a giant letterSon the side, twice. Most likely the Silo Springs brand. Both letters intertwine at the bottom, one straight and the other hanging upside down, tails looped together. I bet it looks nice on the hind end of a cow. If they have to be branded, it’s not a horrible look.
Brian opens the door and walks through first. We head toward the back of the building and stop by the bed positioned across the back wall. “This one’ll be yours. No bunk on top, and you’ll have more space than anyone else.” Wow, he really caught my drift. I like this guy more by the second. I smile, thank him, and lay my bag down on the mattress.
“We’ll have dinner in about fifteen minutes. Why don’t you get settled. The boys will comein and we can all sit down and get to know each other.” He tips his hat and turns, leaving me to unpack. I don’t trust men, let alone ones I’ve barely met. But if I was in a trusting mood–-he seems trustable. I take the hat off my head and lay down on my new bed. It was a long fuckin’ drive and I’m alone. So I grip my gun, put my hat on my belly and let my head hit the pillow.
Chapter Three
My eyes fly open suddenly. That felt like a whole five fuckin’ seconds but I guess my time’s up. They sound like a pack of hyenas with the hooves of a herd of Hangry bulls. I’m not good at describing things but that’s what they sound like. Sitting up quickly, I place my hat on top of my head and stand next to the bed. I make sure I’ve got a firm jaw and a hard stance when they see me and gather around. One cowboy comes closer than the others.
“Hey… I didn’t know we hired cowgirls up here. What's your name, honey?” The grin on his face is taunting and if it wasn't my first day, I’d throw my fuckin’ knee in his horny cowboy crotch. I look him dead in the eye and start my well-rehearsed speech with a bang.
“Howdy boys! My name’s Dixie and around here I ain’t no cowgirl. Nobody walks within a ten-foot radius of my bunk. And none of that wear the hat, ride the cowboy shit flies with me. Any of you motherfuckers touches my hat—you’ll get the ride of your life, but I’ll be wearin’ spurs with my 9mm pressed to your forehead. You won’teven have time to blow your load before I blow mine. You understand?”
Then my eyes harden when that smart-ass son of a bitch opens his mouth.
“I like spurs…”
