On the trip back down into the canyon, her thoughts went back to the Malloy Ranch again. “I’ve got to get away from the forest so I can see the trees, as Mama used to tell me when I was fretting about something. Maybe I will go to the Sugar Shack, have a beer, do a little line dancing, and not think about anything but having a good time.”
Now that’s my girl. That pesky voice that sounded like her mother’s was back.
“You’ve always put having a good time ahead of everything else,” Bonnie muttered as she turned off the highway and down the lane to the ranch. She just shook her head when she passed the cemetery where Ezra was buried. “How on earth the two of you ever got together is a mystery that I’ll probably never understand.”
She parked her truck and unloaded the groceries. The dogs were all waiting on the front porch, so she promised them that she’d bring out a surprise in a few minutes as she headed into the house. She put away the perishables, kicked off her shoes, and put on her only pair of cowboy boots. When she’d tucked the legs of her jeans down into them, she picked up a package wrapped in white butcher paper and took three big soup bones out to the dogs.
“See, I didn’t forget you ladies,” she said. “Y’all are welcome to carry these back to the bunkhouse. Rusty might even let you bring them inside if you promise to keep them on the floor.”
She balled up the butcher paper and threw it into the bed of her beat-up truck. Then she got behind the wheel and headed back down the lane, made a right-hand turn out onto the highway, and traveled a few miles before making another turn. The Sugar Shack was in an old wooden building with a wide front porch, and the whole place looked like it had been sprayed down with that pink medicine Bonnie’s mama had given her for a stomachache when she was a little girl. She could hear the jukebox music blasting away before she even got out of her vehicle. Tips of cigarettes flared red as a row of cowboys leaned against the front of the building and sucked in a drag.
She walked through a haze of smoke on the way into the bar and got a few catcalls and offers from guys who were willing to put out their cigarettes if she’d dance with them. She’d grown up around folks a lot rougher than these cowboys, so she just ignored them, paid her cover fee, and went inside. Most of the place was dimly lit, but the bar area was at least semibright. She located an empty barstool and slid onto it, not paying a bit of attention to who was sitting in the one right next to her.
“What are you doin’ here?” Rusty asked.
“I decided that I’ve been thinkin’ about serious things way too much. I just need to have some fun, so here I am.” She motioned for the bartender to bring her a beer. “What about you? You lookin’ to get lucky tonight?” Saying the words caused a shot of jealousy to shoot through her heart.
“Maybe,” he answered. “Are you?”
“Never know what beer and dancing might cause,” she answered with a shrug.
The bartender brought her beer, and she tipped up the bottle and took a long drink.
A good-looking dark-haired cowboy tapped her on the shoulder. When she looked up, she recognized him as one of the guys who worked over on her brother-in-law’s ranch.
“Want to dance?” he asked as Jason Aldean’s “She’s Counry” came on the jukebox.
“Sure!” She handed her beer to Rusty. “Finish it before it gets warm.”
“Don’t know if you remember me, but I’m Lake, and I work for Cooper.” He took her hand and led her out onto the dance floor. He swung her out a way, then brought her back to his chest and began a fast two-step and swing dance combination. “This song sounds like it’s about you,” he said. “You ain’t afraid to stay country like you was born and raised.”
“I’m glad you noticed,” she teased with a hip wiggle when he spun her out the next time. She glanced over at the bar to see if Rusty was even watching, only to see nothing but empty barstools. With a quick glance over Lake’s shoulder, she saw that Rusty was on the floor hugged up to a cute little brunette so tight that air couldn’t get between them.
The next song was “Down to the Honkytonk” by Jake Owen. One of the lines said something about him having a girl that went bat shit crazy on tequila.
“Do you get silly on tequila?” Lake asked as he kept Bonnie on the dance floor.
“Honey, I could drink you under the table any day of the week,” she answered.
Before Lake could disagree with her, Rusty tapped him on the shoulder and took his place with Bonnie.
“Why’d you do that?” she asked.
“He’s a player,” Rusty said. “You don’t want to get mixed up with him. He’s only interested in one-night stands.”
Rusty was by far the smoothest cowboy she’d ever two-stepped with. When that song ended, he took her by the hand and led her back to the bar. Having her hand in his caused little shots of desire to run through her body, but that didn’t surprise her so much. Dancing with him was one more thing she’d have to be careful about.
“You’re not the boss of me,” she protested.
“Nope, I’m not,” he said. “But I will warn you of danger when it’s right under your nose.”
“Like a big brother?” she asked.
“Something like that,” he chuckled.
* * *
Rusty wondered if Bonnie felt the heat between them like he did. He’d been attracted to her wild, free spirit from the first time he saw her, and that had grown through the months. He’d never let her know that though—not when he had to run her off to even get a chance at the ranch.
She was staring right into his eyes and then a woman touched him on the arm. “I’ve got a bone to pick with you, Rusty Dawson. You snuck out of the house without even tellin’ me goodbye last month, and you never called me. I’m not just a one-night stand. I’m a good woman, and you’re a bastard. I’ve waited four whole weeks to hear from you.”
“You’re drunk, Sandy,” he said.
“Yeah, but I’ll be sober tomorrow, and you’ll still be a bastard.” She turned her attention toward Bonnie. “You’re one of Ezra’s daughters, ain’t you? Well, honey,” she draped an arm around Bonnie’s shoulders, “Rusty is just like Ezra, bastard to the bone. Don’t let yourself get mixed up with him.”
“Let’s get out of here,” Rusty said.
“I agree,” Bonnie said.
“You’ll wish you’d listened to me”—Sandy slurred her words—“because I know what I’m talkin’ about. He might marry you, but it’ll only be to get the ranch. He’ll never be faithful. Every time your turn your back, he’ll be lookin’ to get some on the side. You mark my words.”
“I’m so sorry about that,” Rusty said as he walked across the parking lot with her. “She was drunk off her ass. I took her home, put her to bed, and left. She got the impression that we’d slept together, but we didn’t.”
“Hey, you don’t owe me any apologies,” Bonnie told him. “We all make mistakes.”
“Tell me about yours.” He grinned.
“I would if we had some of Ezra’s moonshine, but that’s all gone, so…” She shrugged.