Texas Outlaws: Billy (5 page)

7

“W
HAT
EXACTLY
ARE
we doing out here?” The question came from Cole, Billy’s older brother, as they stood in the middle of a huge pasture located behind Big Earl Jessup’s worn-looking house.

Big Earl was a throwback to the good old days when moonshine was just as much a commodity as the cattle grazing in the nearby pastureland. He’d gained notoriety for his white lightning moonshine and his eccentric method of cooking—namely in his deer blind.

Those days were long gone, however, and his great-granddaughter was now cooking up the family recipe in the nearby garage. At least that was the rumor circulating around town, along with several jars of premium, grade A liquor.

At ninety-three, Big Earl spent his days in front of the TV with a tube of Bengay to soothe his severely arthritic joints. He lived just outside of town on several acres guarded by the pair of pit bulls currently tied up on the front porch. The sun had just set and darkness blanketed the area. The only light came from the windows of Big Earl’s house and the lantern in Jesse’s hand.

“The money’s here,” Jesse announced.

Billy’s curiosity piqued and he spoke up. “Silas buried it here?”

“Actually, Big Earl buried it out here. He was Dad’s partner. A silent partner. It turns out that Big Earl was on the construction crew that built the savings and loan some fifty-five years ago. He knew the place like the back of his hand, but he was too old to actually pull off a heist. Instead, he planned the robbery and Dad executed it. The plan was to hide the money and lay low for a while before spending any of it. But then Dad died and they featured him in
Famous Texas Outlaws
and the time never seemed right, so Big Earl was afraid to dig up the money. And then his old-timer’s set in and now he can’t actually remember where he buried it. He knows it’s somewhere out here, in the middle of a tall stretch of grass.”

Billy glanced from side to side. “This pasture’s a good twenty acres each way.”

“I know. That’s why I need you two to help. I can’t cover all this ground by myself.”

“Can I ask a dumb question?” Cole held up a hand. “Why don’t we tell the sheriff and let them get out here and dig the money up? It’s not like we had anything to do with it.”

“No, but we might as well have. If we hand over the info to the sheriff, the entire town will think we knew all along. But if we give it back ourselves, maybe we can prove once and for all that we aren’t anything like Silas Chisholm. He took from this town, and now we’re going to give back.” He tossed a shovel at Billy. “We’re going to dig every night up and down this pasture until we hit pay dirt. It might take a few days. It might take a few months.”

Billy shrugged. “I guess hauling an excavator up here would attract too much attention.”

Jesse nodded. “If anyone gets wind that the money might be here, there will be gold diggers from here to Houston looking for that money. We have to keep this between us and do it ourselves.”

“How long are we supposed to dig tonight?” Cole asked. “Not that I don’t want to dig. I’m totally on board with the plan, I just didn’t figure on being up here all night.”

“Don’t worry. You’ll be out in time for a booty call. Which Barbie is it this time?”

“None.” Cole shook his head. “Jimmy and Jake hooked up with Crystal and April and they’re now officially off the market.”

Jimmy and Jake Barber were the last two members of the Lost Boys. They were twins who competed on the team roping circuit. They’d always been players when it came to the ladies, but it looked as if they’re carousing days were fast coming to a close.

“Jimmy and Jake are getting serious?” Billy arched an eyebrow.

“Last I heard,” Cole replied.

“And what about Barbie sister number three?” Jesse asked. “You thinking about making an honest woman of her?”

“Hardly. Nikki Barbie may look as good as her sisters, but she’s not nearly as much fun.” Cole shrugged. “Besides, I met someone today.” He grinned. “A lot of someones. There are girls coming out of the woodwork at this rodeo and I aim to make the most of it.”

Jesse eyed Cole. “Love at first sight?”

Billy grinned. “Safe to say it’s lust at first sight.”

Cole shrugged. “Lust is good.”

Jesse motioned to Cole. “Don’t worry, you won’t miss your booty call.” He turned to Billy. “What about you? You got a midnight rendezvous planned?”

If only.

Billy stifled the thought and gripped the shovel. “Let’s just get this done.” And then he started to dig.

* * *

“I
F
I
SEE
ANOTHER
female, I’m going to slit my wrists,” Livi said the next day as she collapsed in the chair next to Sabrina. It was Sunday—over twenty-four hours since she’d met Billy Chisholm on Friday night—and the fair was in full swing.

She stared at the crowds milling about the rodeo arena where they’d set up their booth. While there were plenty of single males walking here and there, none of them were falling all over themselves to fill out a profile. No line around the corner like the nearby funnel cake stand. No whoops and hollers like the kissing booth across the way. “This obviously isn’t working. You man the table and I’ll go see if I can stir up some business.” She stood and grabbed a stack of flyers.

“Where are you going?”

“The animal pens. There are a ton of hands on duty over there.”

“They’re all working. I doubt they’ll want to stop to fill out a questionnaire.”

“They will if I’m offering an incentive.” Livi pulled a white bakery box from beneath the table.

“What are those?”

“Seductive Strawberry cupcakes. A lady over at the diner makes them. The place was full of old geezers from the local VFW hall all going nuts over these. There was a line clear out the door. I figure if they can stir up the old guys, they might help out with the younger ones. I bought a full dozen. I’m thinking this will nab at least twelve men. Twenty-four if we cut them in half.”

“Five minutes and writer’s cramp for half of a Seductive Strawberry cupcake. Sounds like a fair trade.”

“Hey, I’m desperate. And desperate times call for desperate measures. See what you can do to get more men to stop here. Undo a few buttons.” She motioned to Sabrina’s blouse. “Or hike up the skirt.”

“Why don’t I just strip down to my underwear and do a table dance.”

“Great, but make sure to peel off the granny panties first.” Livi winked and disappeared.

She was
not
doing a table dance. Not yet, at least.

She pulled out more flyers, grabbed her clipboard and rounded the table. If she couldn’t lure the remaining one hundred and twenty-seven eligible cowboys still needed over to her table for information, she would take the information to them.

She spent the next hour walking the aisles and approaching every available man. And a few not-so-available ones who hadn’t been wearing their wedding rings. She’d been cussed at (
Mrs.
Tammy Johnson, wife of thirty-something Max Johnson, whose three daughters were showing goats in the arena next door)
and
kicked (
Mrs.
Denise Carter, wife of Harley Carter, a professional steer wrestler and competition eater signing autographs over in the barbecue tent), and all in less than ten minutes.

“I’m really sorry,” Sabrina called after the blonde as pain radiated up her calf. “He’s not wearing a wedding ring.”

“He doesn’t have to. The entire town knows he’s mine. Now you do, too.”

“It was an honest mistake,” she tried again, but the woman had already rounded the corner.

“Don’t let Denise bother you,” came a voice from behind. “She’s got somewhat of a temper.”

Sabrina turned to see a seventyish woman wearing a flower-print dress half covered with a pink apron, a large white box clutched in her hand. Her silvery-white hair was rolled into fat sausage curls and piled high on top of her head. A pair of pink bifocals sat low on her nose. The scent of rich chocolate and cheap hairspray filled the air. “Why, she once threw a package of fish sticks at old Mrs. Shivers for looking at Harley in the checkout line at the Piggly Wiggly. Almost gave her a concussion, too, since the frozen-foods cooler runs a good twenty degrees lower than it should on account of Mr. Ricks—he’s the owner—is too cheap to get the darn thing fixed. Name’s Sarah Jean Hunt,” the woman said, hefting the box to one arm and holding out her hand. “I own Sarah’s Sweets. It’s the one and only bakery in town.”

“Sabrina Collins. I’m with—”

“FindMeACowboy.com,” Sarah Jean finished for her. “I heard. The whole town’s heard. You guys are here to sign up cowboys for your new website. Talk about exciting stuff.”

“Your town hosts one of the biggest rodeos in Texas and you were just featured in a
Famous Texas Outlaws
episode. I can’t imagine a website start-up is big news.”

“To me it is.” The older woman drew a deep breath as if gathering her courage. “I’m here to sign up for your hook-up service.”

“I’m afraid we’ve reached our quota on females. We’re here in town to sign up more men.”

“I know. That’s why I brought these.” She held up the bakery box. “I sell everything from pies to cream puffs, but cupcakes are my specialty. Your friend bought a dozen of my Seductive Strawberry ’cause all those geezers from the VFW hall like them. But they just like ’em ’cause the strawberry puree I use works better than their Metamucil. If you want to rope in the younger ones, you need to try my Frisky Fudge Fantasy. I use a dark chocolate guaranteed to rev the libido and make any man hornier than a buck during mating season.”

“Dark chocolate does that?”

“My dark chocolate does that. Mix it up myself with a secret recipe handed down from my great-grandmother. She used to own a brothel at one time and it’s been said the menfolk would come from miles around to sample her goodies. ’Course, most folks think
goodies
refers to something sexual, but I know better ’cause I got all her recipes. Anyhow, if you want to sign up the cowboys around here, just give ’em one of these.” She handed over the bakery box. “And there’s more where those came from. All I ask in return is that you help me hook up with my very own cowboy.”

While Livi had seemed convinced about the cupcakes, Sabrina wasn’t nearly as gullible. Not after getting her leg kicked in. “Listen, Miss Sarah, I’d love to help, but—”

“I know I ain’t no spring chicken. That’s why I need your help. See, I’m not the luckiest when it comes to men. Spent nearly twenty years with a drunk rat bastard who up and died on me and left me with three kids to raise and not one penny of life insurance. Went into business for myself doing the only thing I knew how. I made it, too. The thing is, on account of running my own business and raising my girls, I ain’t never had much free time to get out and meet many men. And I ain’t really trusted my own instincts after picking such a dud the first go-round.” She motioned to Sabrina. “But you could find me a decent guy. That’s what you do, right? Your specialty?”

“Actually, I have a journalism major. Livi, my partner, is the marketing guru who actually designed the meet-and-greet system—”

“But you find the men, right?”

“Actually, we’re both here to find the men. Our friend Kat helps out, too, but she’s back in L.A. right now working on the website.”

“A triple threat.” Sarah Jean grinned. “I like it.” Hope glimmered in her eyes. “So you and your partner help me, and I’ll help you.”

No.

That was her first instinct.

She needed to fill her database, not search for one man for one particular woman.

Then again, she wasn’t filling anything at the moment. She eyed the whopping two profiles she’d managed to complete in almost as many hours, before shifting her gaze back to Sarah. That, and she’d already committed herself to Melba. What was one more?

The old woman wasn’t the ideal twenty-thirty-something they specialized in. Still, she
was
a strong, successful female. Determined and forthright. And she had the whole Mrs. Fields thing going on. Definitely a prize catch for any man over the age of seventy-five.

Provided the men over seventy-five were fishing.

There was only one way to find out.

She smiled at the older woman. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

* * *

H
E
WAS
HAVING
shitty luck.

Billy came to that realization after a sleepless Saturday night spent tossing and turning and staring at the ceiling, followed by an exhausting Sunday spent busting his ass at every turn.

“You suck,” Cole told him when he took time out from his broncs to watch Billy during a practice ride. “You’ll never make it through the semifinals like that.”

“That’s what I’ve been telling him,” Eli said. “What happened to yesterday? You were so good.”

“I had a late night.” A fruitless night spent digging for a bunch of money that may or may not exist. At least that was Billy’s take on the situation. To top it off, he’d spent the morning at his cabin trying to narrow down the flooring choices for the new bathroom. Hardwood or tile? The question ate at him when he should have had his mind on his ride. He needed to make his mind up so that the contractor could actually finish a job that should have taken three weeks. Instead, they were on month number two. And all because Billy couldn’t just pick one.

He could.

He would.

It’s just that he liked both.

Just as he’d liked both blondes that had hit on him last night at the local bar. They’d both been attractive, sexy, eager. He could have had either one of them.

He should have had one of them.

Then he wouldn’t be sucking so badly now.

That’s what he told himself, but deep in his gut, he knew it wasn’t true. He’d slept on Friday night after the sexual encounter with Sabrina not because he’d needed sex, but because he’d needed sex with her. Because he didn’t have to worry about the act coming back to bite him because he knew she was temporary.

She didn’t want more and neither did he and he was through denying it.