Chapter 12
Colt
The Iron Stallion was crowded with conversation and laughter. I pulled out a few glasses from the dishwasher, grimacing at the heat. It seemed as though everyone in Green Point and neighboring towns decided to walk in through the doors. I didn’t want to complain. I was excited to see the sales at the end of the night, but my head kept wandering over to Cheyenne, who was now a permanent fixture in my head.
No matter what I said or did, that guard of hers was up all the time. There were small cracks though, small glimmers of what I recognized as a mutual attraction. I had no idea what had happened to her before in Portland, but it had done some damage according to Tiffany. I just didn’t know how much longer I could take having Cheyenne at the ranch without craving some sort of physical contact.
I couldn’t even remember the last time I had taken a woman to bed with me. I was never the sleep-around type of guy, but I had my fair share of casual relationships over the years. It’d been at least one year since New York and then Green Point. I just never had the time it felt like anymore to enjoy the intimacy of having some, but Cheyenne was there first thing in the morning and at night. That made it a lot easier, and she didn’t strike me as the type of woman who needed a fancy dinner every single night. She had her own life to attend to.
I was dreading the moment the insurance adjuster arrived because it could have meant losing Cheyenne’s presence at the ranch, something that I was steadily growing attached to.
My thoughts were interrupted when a familiar figure stepped in through the front door to head directly to the bar where I stood.
“Whiskey,” Bill Coates said, sitting down on the bar stool. He glared at me when I narrowed my eyes at him. “What? You don’t sell whiskey? Or are you planning to deny service to a customer?”
“I’m debating denying you service,” I replied coolly. He reeked of alcohol from the bar he had been drinking at before, and his blood-shot eyes were a testament to it as well. I distantly wondered if the other bar kicked him out again for disorderly conduct, or if Bill just wanted to try his luck at the Iron Stallion. “If you can behave yourself here, then you can stay.”
“So very kind of you,” he snarked out.
I looked up to catch sight of Joe staring at Bill with a frown. Holding up a hand, I grabbed a bottle of whiskey and poured him a glass. I didn’t want any altercations in my business. Bill Coates had that effect on residents.
“What do you want?” I asked because I knew there was a specific reason why Bill had come into my business. “I know you’re here for a reason. You’ve never once stumbled over here after you were kicked out.”
Bill took a long and steady gulp of his whiskey. “Well, I wasn’t kicked out. I came here because I wanted to try your whiskey out for a change. Is that a crime?”
“I suppose not,” I said warily.
There were dark bags underneath Bill’s eyes. His skin was a sick pale while his clothes were wrinkled and smelt of stale laundry. It was obvious that sleep had evaded Bill for a few weeks. Then again, he lost a purebred stallion in a fire that I was on the fence about him starting.
“Haven’t slept much, Bill?”
He looked up harshly at that. “Do I look like shit or something?”
“As a matter of fact, you do. You look like death warmed over, or is that your morals weighing you down?”
“Morals?” Bill repeated, scoffing. “You think I burned that woman’s barn down, do you?”
“You are at the top of my suspect list. Let’s put it that way.”
“Why would I burn my own damn stallion to death?” he questioned, fingers clenching tightly around his whiskey glass. “Ever think about that? You’re a rancher, Colt. You know how much animals mean to us.”
“I don’t abuse my own,” I said coldly. “There’s a huge difference between the two of us, Coates. Don’t even try to compare me to you.”
“I would’ve let the horse out of the stall before lighting the son-of-a-bitch on fire,” Bill continued on. “That horse was money to me. It was a purebred fucking beauty. I didn’t ask for your girlfriend to meddle in my business.”
“Cheyenne is not my girlfriend,” I said.
Bill arched his eyebrows at that. Gritting my teeth in aggravation, I twisted a dishcloth in my hands to keep myself from reaching across the bar to smack that shit-eating look off of Bill’s face.
“Trouble in paradise?” Bill chuckled darkly. “Woman’s a piece of work. Good luck to you enjoying that in your bed at night.”
I smacked the palm of my hand against the bar top. A few customers jumped at the unexpected noise.
“Get out,” I said quietly, to not draw more attention. “If you’re going to insist on being crass, then get the fuck out of my business.”
“That fire ruined my life too,” Bill said. “I lost property in the fire. The only person who won’t be suffering any damages is Cheyenne.”
“She lost a barn,” I said, confused at his logic. “I’d say she suffered some damage in the process, Bill.”
“She also happens to have insurance to cover it. Where’s my insurance for my lost stallion?”
“You should’ve taken care of the stallion the way it needed to be taken care of. It’s your fault that horse landed in her sanctuary.”
Spittle formed at the corner of Bill’s lips. “It doesn’t matter how my horse ended up at her place. She still has a way to replace everything. I don’t have a way to replace a stallion, and my reputation is smeared thanks to her. PETA won’t leave me the hell alone.”
“What are you getting at?” I asked, and glanced at the clock above the bar. “I think it’s about time for you to find a ride, Bill. Call your neighbor.”
“I’m suggesting insurance fraud,” Bill replied, squinting at me heavily. “For a Smith, you sure are slow. Now that I think about it, you’re blinded by something else entirely.”
“You’re suggesting that Cheyenne lit her own barn on fire?”
“That’s what I’m suggesting.”
I glanced over at Joe, who slowly approached the both of us. He shook his head in disbelief when I exchanged a confused frown with him.
“I think it’s time for you to go,” Joe said calmly. “Go on, Bill. You find a ride home now.”
Bill rose from his bar stool to toss a twenty-dollar bill. He tapped his temple with a stubby and greasy finger. “Think about it, Smith. That’s all I’m saying.”
“That man is a vile being,” Joe grumbled as we watched Bill stumble out into the dark night. “I hope someone pities him and takes him home. He’s in no shape to be driving.”
“I’m sure someone will. We all know he’s a drunk.” I smoothed a hand through my hair to calm my rising temper. “Did you hear what he accused Cheyenne of doing?”
“I heard,” Joe said, nodding. “Insurance fraud? I’ve only talked to Cheyenne a handful of times, but she doesn’t strike me as the type of person to do that.”
“I don’t think that’s a possibility either,” I agreed, letting out a long breath. “She loves those horses so much. She nearly died trying to save them in the fire.”
Joe clasped me on the shoulder tightly. “Don’t let it get to you, Colt. We all know that Bill has a habit of placing the blame on others to avoid his own guilt.”
“No kidding,” I said.
We closed up a few hours later. I took the long way back to the ranch and stopped by Cheyenne’s place. The gate was still open, but all the lights were off in the house. It was utterly dark and quiet when I stepped out to inspect the gas cans that were partially melted in the rubble still. The fire marshal had told Cheyenne to leave everything be for the insurance company to look at.
Rubbing my jaw, I didn’t know what to think of it. Cheyenne loved those horses more than anything in the world. I could still remember her anguished screams when I pulled her out from the stallion. It wasn’t in her character to do something heinous. It was in Bill’s character to do it though.
I climbed back up in my truck to drive back to the ranch. The living room light was on when I stepped inside, lifting my cowboy hat to place it on a dining room chair. I found Cheyenne curled up on the couch in front of the fireplace with a paperback in her hands. Her dark hair was free and damp about her shoulders. I smelt her flowery shampoo when I sat down in the chair across from the couch.
“How was your day?” she asked.
“Fine,” I said, closing my eyes to fight off the headache pounding in my head. “It was busy as always. Nothing new.”
“What about Tiffany?”
“Tiffany?”
“Yeah. You said that you were going to see her before work today.”
“Oh, right.” I found Cheyenne’s gaze resting on me. A frown tugged at her lips as she closed her paperback. “She’s going to be fine. She’ll be home in a few days. Better to stay with a friend in town because it’s close to physical therapy.”
“That’s good,” she said. “Is everything okay, Colt? You look like you’ve had a bad night.”
I directed my gaze to rest on the fire in the fireplace. It would need a few logs before the both of us went to bed for extra heat tonight. It was already crisp outside.
“Bill Coates came into the Iron Stallion tonight,” I said. “I’m sure he was kicked out of the bar down the street, but he came in tonight.”
Cheyenne’s face tensed up at that. “What did he have to say?”
“He’s upset over the loss of his horse. That was the gist of the conversation, and he suggested his own—” I paused to search for the right word. “—theories about what caused the fire.”
“He caused the fire,” Cheyenne responded immediately. “There’s no doubt in my heart, Colt. He did it.”
“There’s no evidence of it though,” I said grimly. Sensing Cheyenne’s temper rising, I held up my hands to calm her. “I’m not taking his side. I’m here to help you any way that I can.”
“What did he suggest?”
“It doesn’t matter,” I said, shaking my head. “What is your insurance like? Have they told you what they can replace?”
“Just enough to replace the barn,” she said and picked at stray thread in the couch cushion. “That’s it. I didn’t pay higher premiums because I couldn’t afford it. I won’t know much until the claims adjuster comes out to look at the barn this week.”
“Well, let me know what the verdict is. I’ll help you with what I can help with.”
“Thanks.”
A smile tugged at her lips, but I couldn’t bring it in me to tell her the truth of why I asked. Guilt filled me for believing Bill Coates. It wasn’t possible for Cheyenne to even hurt a damn fly. How could anyone expect her to burn down a barn with her own horses in it?
I bid her goodnight before climbing up the stairs with heavy limbs. Maybe I was being blinded by Cheyenne, but I didn’t mind it entirely. She was a good woman, a good person that softened the edges around me. It occurred to me then that I was dreading the moment that Cheyenne collected her insurance check to rebuild. We would be separated again by our own lives, and that didn’t settle well with me.