Not Quite a Cowboy
“They don’t even look like real cowboys.” I muttered the words under my breath low enough so that only my best friend could hear them. She turned her head in my direction and gave me a look that told me she had had enough of my whining and endless snarky commentary. We’d gotten up early to fly out of San Francisco and had landed in Billings, Montana, only to then hop on a teeny-tiny charter flight that brought us out to Sheridan, Wyoming. It had been a day filled with travel, and my sarcasm and snark were at an all-time high. Partly because I really had no interest in being here, but mostly because, for the last few months, I’d been a miserable human being to be around and I couldn’t seem to rein in my bad attitude, even when I really wanted to. She was getting tired of it, and frankly, I couldn’t blame her.
“Just because they don’t have on cowboy hats and leather chaps doesn’t mean they aren’t cowboys; you have no idea what a real cowboy even is. When have you ever been on a ranch before or traveled any farther east than Las Vegas? The closest you’ve been to any kind of cowboy was when we went to see Garth Brooks a couple of years ago. You promised to keep an open mind, and so far, you are sucking at it.”
I sighed and shifted away from Emrys. Her dramatically shaped eyes could see right through me and I didn’t need a guilt trip from her when I already felt like crap. I turned my attention back to the three men standing before us and begrudgingly admitted to myself that two of them could pass as the sexified, carefully marketed country music version of what a cowboy should be. They could easily give Luke Bryan a run for his money with the way they were packed into their tight jeans. They were both more than passably attractive from what I could see under the brims of their matching camo baseball hats, the ranch’s logo stitched on the front. When they introduced themselves, I found out that they also had what I would consider authentic cowboy names, Sutton and Lane. I wasn’t sure which one was which because I was completely distracted by the third member of the not-so-welcoming committee. He was the one I was specifically talking about when I made the ‘not a cowboy’ comment. He looked as out of place on this working ranch in the middle-of-nowhere Wyoming as I felt. He was also watching me just as closely as I was watching him. His name was Cyrus . . . which was maybe a cowboy name but to me sounded more like the ruler of some ancient kingdom. In fact, he would fit in way better in Sparta than he did here on the range. The thought made me snicker, which got me an elbow in the side from Em, even though I kept the wayward thought to myself.
The man, who most definitely didn’t look like a cowboy, didn’t have any kind of hat on so there was no mistaking the fact that his narrowed eyes were locked on me. His lack of headwear also revealed that he had his dark hair buzzed in a trendy undercut and styled back in a way that required product and know how. Two things I would never associate with an actual cowboy. It also showed that he had the faintest hint of silver at his temples above his perfectly even sideburns. Even with the dusting of gray, I still only put him at somewhere in his early- to mid-thirties. The silver in his hair should make him look prematurely aged, but it didn’t. He looked tough and distinguished, and if he was dressed in something other than lovingly worn Levi’s and a faded Jack Daniel’s T-shirt, he would give the executives and CEOs who I did business with a run for their money in the silently intimidating department. Not that I could imagine any of the men I worked with looking as good as this one did. He did something special for that cotton T-shirt that stretched tightly across his broad chest. And the way he impatiently shifted his weight from one heavy-looking black boot to the other pulled denim tight around places I should be embarrassed to be looking. I wanted to ask him why he had boots on that belonged on a Harley rather than in the stirrup of a saddle, but I didn’t want another sharp poke from Em, so I kept my musings to myself.
No, the man named Cyrus didn’t fit what I had thought would be waiting for me when I agreed to this crazy plan of Emrys’, and if he hadn’t walked out to greet us with the other two men when the passenger van we had taken from the minuscule airport dropped us off, I would have automatically assumed he was part of the tour group and not one of the guides. He didn’t look like what I expected someone who was intimately familiar with the outdoors or the inhospitable and uninhabited terrain of the Wyoming landscape to look like. His rough appearance and unwavering gaze made me question again why I had let Emrys talk me into this vacation that sounded more like punishment than any kind of fun I was familiar with. I was even more hesitant to venture off into the wooded mountains than I had been before, as my stare-down with the man dragged on and on to the point that I knew looking away would mean some kind of defeat. I wasn’t sure what the battle I was engaged in was about, but I was a sore loser at the best of times, and considering I was at the lowest point I’d ever been, I knew there was no way I could be the first one to break eye contact. I loved my best friend, but at the moment I could happily strangle her for deciding we needed this girl’s only trip that would force us both to unplug and regroup over the next week.
“You ladies are the last of the group to arrive. We’ll get you settled in and then everyone can meet in the main house for dinner so we can all go over what to expect for the next week.” It was the guy in the middle who spoke. He was the shortest of the three and he was the only one who seemed capable of smiling. The man with all the muscles and the scowl kept watching me, while the last guy looked bored and annoyed. His expression indicated that he felt like he was being put out having to play welcome wagon for a couple of city girls. Considering this little jaunt was costing both Em and me an arm and a leg, the least these not-quite-cowboys could do was roll out the welcome mat and pretend that they were thrilled to do so. We were paying for an unforgettable experience, and so far they had delivered, but not in a good way.
I stiffened my spine and narrowed my eyes. Unfortunately, my intimidation factor was nil considering I was dressed in comfy leggings and an oversized Henley that I stole from my ex. My outfit was great for traveling in, but not so great for trying to look like a badass who wouldn’t stand for the blatant indifference coming from a third of the trio who was supposed to be responsible for my health and wellbeing for the next seven days. I also wasn’t going to keep quiet over the overt hostility radiating off the one I couldn’t look away from. I was one of those women who was always a little unkempt and disheveled, so I had to work at appearing put together and polished. It was a constant battle every single morning as I got ready for work. I could pull off cute with minimal effort, but it took some time and some serious skill with both my clothes and my makeup to push me into the chic and professional sphere. Considering I had woken up at the ass crack of dawn, my wardrobe, hair, and war paint were nonexistent. With my unruly, wavy, strawberry blonde hair pulled back in a sloppy ponytail, I was keenly aware that I looked more like Raggedy Ann than a highly successful market analyst who was also a street-savvy and independent woman. Or at least I had been, until I fell for the wrong guy and he proved otherwise.
The single pleasant member of the trio smiled again and inclined his head toward the bags sitting at our feet. When Em had booked the trip, they had been very clear that this was an outdoor adventure. We would be venturing deep into the mountains on horseback and we were to leave any kind of technology and civilization behind us. There had been strict instructions on what we needed to pack, and as a result, the bag at my feet was stuffed full and contained mostly new and untried mountain appropriate attire. It was all stuff that would end up shoved in the back of my closet and then, years later, donated to Goodwill because I had very little use for any of it in my day-to-day life back in the Bay Area.
“Sutton and I will take your bags and show you where you’re bunking for the night. You ladies have about an hour before dinner, so you can relax and get freshened up.” Getting freshened up sounded delightful. Maybe if I put on some blush and drew my eyebrows in, I could get Mr. Personality—with the death stare—to take me seriously when I told him that his behavior was unacceptable.
The bored guy must have been Sutton because he took a step forward and bent to pick up Emrys’ bag. I thought I heard her sigh when he bent over but it could have been the air shifting and moving around me. The man, who looked like he didn’t belong anywhere near a place that was often referred to as the ‘Cowboy State’, took a few steps closer to me. I had no choice but to tilt my head back and look at him. I sucked in a breath as I was struck by the sharpest, clearest, most flawless pair of gray eyes I had ever seen in my life. They were the color of smoke and silver. His eyes cut through me like the honed blade of a knife as they raked over me, from my messy hair to the toes that had curled up in startled response where they were encased in a pair of super-comfy Uggs. Again, my choice in footwear had been great for traveling in, but not so great for leaving the most impactful first impression.
Cy’s voice when he spoke was deep and raspy. It sounded slightly broken and jagged, like maybe he didn’t use it a lot and when he did, it took a minute for the words to find their way out. It was the kind of voice that belonged to a real cowboy “This isn’t a spa or some kind of all-inclusive retreat where your every want and need is catered to, Ms. Connor. This is the wild, wild west, and if you don’t listen to the boys and pay attention to what they are telling you, then things can go bad faster than you can blink.” There was a warning there, but all I could think of were nights around the warm campfire and even warmer nights in the bedroom. He had a voice that made me think about rough sex and talented hands that I wouldn’t want to say no to. “Sutton and Lane are good at dealing with girls from the city who want to come out and play cowgirl, but I would advise against looking at them like they aren’t fit to carry your bags or like they somehow aren’t meeting your high standards.” Cy had a great voice, but goddamn, did his personality leave a lot to be desired.
So, smiley was Lane and grumpy was Sutton. Emrys had read the brochure aloud to me no less than twenty times when she was trying to convince me that we needed this vacation and that I really, really needed to get away. I knew from the literature that the men who owned the ranch and ran the excursions were all brothers. From his protective stance, the attractive silver in his hair, and by the way he was trying to put me in my place for some perceived slight, it wasn’t hard to guess he was the big brother . . . emphasis on big. I was totally normal sized, hovering a tiny bit over five-six, but this guy towered over me and he had zero problem with his intimidation factor. He didn’t raise his voice, he didn’t loom or posture. He simply stood in front of me and his words, with their rasp and growl, made me shiver in both fear and awareness.
“I am aware this isn’t a spa or a retreat, Mr. . . .” I blushed and trailed off as I realized I’d been too busy evaluating him and his ability to keep me alive over the next week rather than paying attention to the introductions.
“Warner, but I’m Cy to most folks.”
I cleared my throat and begrudgingly stuck out a hand for him to shake. “Okay, Cy, I wasn’t looking at any of you in any way. I was just wondering about the qualifications you have to take a large group of inexperienced people into the wilderness. I think that’s a pretty fair concern to have. We seem to have simply gotten off on the wrong foot.” That happened a lot with my lack of filter and overt honesty. I had a hard time keeping my foot out of my mouth and here I was chewing on my shoe, again.
“I’m Leora, but most of my friends call me Leo.” My hand was left extended between the two of us for an uncomfortable amount of time until I let it fall as he continued to stare at me. I felt Emrys shift next to me and I became acutely aware that this little standoff was no longer happening between just him and me. His brothers were also standing a few feet away, watching our tense interaction with curious expressions. I’d promised my best friend that I would go into this with an open mind. I assured her that I would embrace the change of scenery and do my best to enjoy myself. Lately, I’d been a super-shitty friend, so I owed it to Emrys to keep my promise, even if this man, who was not quite a cowboy, seemed determined to prove me right in my thinking that coming here was nothing but a mistake.
“Sutton and Lane will keep you alive because that’s their job. They’ll also make sure your trip is worth every single penny you spent because our reputation is everything in this competitive market, and, lucky for you, they actually enjoy what they do. Their qualifications are outlined in all of our literature and clearly displayed on our website. Just because they may or may not look like your version of qualified wilderness guides doesn’t make them any less skilled or competent.” Boom! He took blunt and in-your-face to a whole other level. Part of me respected that, as much as it made my hackles rise and spine snap straight in irritation. I wondered if this was what it felt like to be on the other side of my brutal honesty when I forget to pull my punches and play nice.
I took a step back and opened my mouth to retort that he, not either of his admittedly attractive siblings, was the one I thought appeared to look under-qualified to guide us into the woods and through the mountains. Emrys put her hand on my forearm and intervened before my inherent Irish temperament really flared to life. I was ready to go toe to toe with this big, unpleasant man. In about a second flat, I was going to demand my money back and berate him for his rudeness and tactlessness. As always, when I was fired up and ready to go off halfcocked, Em waded in and threw water on the fire that was getting ready to ignite.
“Forgive my friend, Mr. Warner. She’s a born and raised city girl and I think she’s just feeling a tad bit intimidated by all the fresh air and peace and quiet. I assure you that we are both extremely grateful for your time and we’re so excited to be here. We’re both looking forward to seeing what your wonderful state has to offer.” Her elbow dug into my side and I turned my head to give her a dirty look. “Isn’t that right, Leo?”
I rolled my eyes at my mostly flawless best friend and wondered how she could look so refreshed and unrumpled after a day full of traveling. Where I was pretty average all around, Emrys Santos was anything but. She was tall, standing close to six feet without the aid of high heels. Her shiny, sable-colored hair hung flat and perfect along her back, like it had never heard of humidity or static electricity. Her dark eyes, which were currently pleading with me to behave, had a slight slant to them that only added to her overall exotic, undeniable beauty. She was almost perfect, except for the fact that she was interfering, determined to get her own way, and could guilt trip like no one’s business.
She knew I was having a hard time with my most recent breakup. On top of that, I was having issues at work, the one thing in my life that had always been stable and in control. But she pushed, prodded, and pleaded until I had agreed to spend this week with her in the great outdoors, even though roughing it was absolutely not my thing. Part of me wanted to tell her she had to deal with the fact I was here but less than thrilled about it, but a bigger part of me knew she was just trying to help, and doing her best to wrestle me back on track. So I corralled my rebellious temper and bit my tongue, giving her a stiff nod of agreement. Cy’s iridescent eyes sparked with humor and I swore he knew I was fighting to behave.
I bit out through my teeth and through a smile that was so fake it actually hurt my face, “Like I said, I think we just got off on the wrong foot.”
The only response I got was a grunt as his attention turned to the other two men, who were purposely ignoring the heated interaction between me and their older brother. In fact, they both had moved a few steps away like they knew their older sibling’s anger was hot enough to burn anything that got close enough for it to touch. Gruffly, he barked out, “Go ahead and get them situated, I’ll head up to the house and make sure Brynn knows everyone is here.”
Just like that, we were dismissed as he turned on the heel of his very much not a cowboy boot and stalked off in the direction of a huge, sprawling home made entirely out of logs. The main house was more of a rustic mountain mansion but I figured pointing that out wouldn’t win me favors, and I was already in the red around these parts, even though I’d been on the ranch for less than an hour.
Lane, the brother who had no trouble flashing his teeth in a charming smile, hefted my bag up and gave me that adorable grin that I was starting to associate with him. “Don’t worry too much about Cy. His bark is way worse than his bite and you won’t see much of him after tonight. He doesn’t come on the trail unless he has to.”
For some reason, the idea of Cy’s bite had a full body shiver quaking through me. I followed behind Lane, his brother, and Emrys as they started toward a row of what looked like cabins that were a few hundred yards away from the gigantic main house.
“I can’t imagine you have much repeat business if he speaks to all of your guests that way when they first get here.”
There was a deep chuckle from him that made me want to smile in return. This brother was clearly the easiest going of the three. I decided I liked him the best.
“It was the ‘not real cowboys’ crack. Cy gets touchy about people from the city coming here with preconceived notions about what the west is like, and about what it takes to survive out there in the mountains. We get a lot of weekend warriors who think they can take the wilderness on, and they end up being a pain in the ass for the entire ride. He’s protective over the land and our lifestyle, so it’s hard for him to let outsiders in, even if that’s how we make our living. Not all cowboys wear ten-gallon hats and have Sam Elliott mustaches. Cy has never dressed the part, even when we were younger. Trust me, you are far from the first person to book an excursion with us and end up underwhelmed when we didn’t show up dressed like a character out of the Hateful Eight.”
I sighed and shot him a look out of the corner of my eye. “I don’t know how you even heard that.” I was so sure I whispered it low enough so that only Emrys could hear me.
“You’re used to city noise and the sounds that come from being in such a crowded place covering up what you don’t want people to hear. In the great wide open, there isn’t anything to hide behind and all sound carries. You get used to saying what you mean out here and you learn real quick that words are permanent. You can try and take them back but they always linger.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” I tilted my head to the side and asked him, “If you and Sutton are the ones who guide the trips, what does Mr. Personality do . . . other than intimidate and berate the paying guests?” I wasn’t sure why I was curious about the most unpleasant of the brothers. But I had a lot of questions and it was all I could do to keep from blurting them out all at once.
Another laugh, and this time I did smile back at him. Up close and without the shadow from his hat hiding his face, I could see he was more than passably attractive like I first thought. Lane was much younger and his eyes were much more blue than gray. He had a similar jawline and the cut of his cheekbones matched his older brother, but this guy was handsome in a more approachable, accessible way. Lane Warner also had a dimple in one cheek when he grinned, which made him downright adorable in my book. I didn’t know if real cowboys had dimples, but I decided they all should if it was going to make them look as good as this one did. Lane had the kind of easy good looks that would appeal to any and every woman under the sun, while his older brother had the kind of brooding intensity and harshly hewn good looks that appealed to women who wanted something special, something unforgettable and impossible to overlook.
“Mr. Personality . . . Cy would lose his shit if he knew that’s what you were calling him. He usually avoids the guests for that very reason. He always shows up when guests arrive and he hangs around to make sure everyone is paying attention when we go over the rules and regulations for the week, but after that, he goes back to running the ranch and all the other businesses he’s got his hands in. Sutton and I do the grunt work but Cy is the brains behind the operation. He took over the ranch a few years ago when things got tough with my old man, health-wise. The guided tours and adventure vacations were his idea. When he was in college, all his buddies used to want to come home with him when they were on break so they could ride and camp out in the woods. Cy took something as simple as his college buddies hanging out and having a good time and turned it into a business plan. Since you paid to be here, you know how profitable the venture has been for us. He saved the ranch and gave my dad an easy last couple of years so our old man didn’t have to worry about us his last few years.”
It was more information than I asked for, but it was valuable insight into the man who had both annoyed me and intrigued me from the get-go. The younger man spoke with obvious pride when he talked about his older sibling, which made me smile at him; however, my smile died when we reached the cabin and the grumpy brother—who looked less like the one I was fascinated with—shoved open the door and dropped Emrys’ bag with a loud ‘thud’ on the floor. Sutton tipped his chin at her and then swept past us until he was at the bottom of the steps. He was tall and broad like his older brother but his eyes were green, nowhere near blue or gray. The downturn of his mouth and the furrow between his eyes made him appear sulky and moody, rather than brooding and intense like his older sibling. He was still an outrageously attractive young man, one that I noticed Emrys couldn’t seem to quit staring at. Considering I was in my own mental funk and had an unshakable cloud of piss-poor attitude hovering over my head, I had no time or interest in his sour disposition or the cause behind it. Lane put my bag down far more gently, gave me a rueful grin, then he touched the tip of his fingers to the brim of his ball cap.
“Working with family is never boring, that’s for sure. You ladies are going to have a great trip. Just leave it to me.”
The brothers disappeared as Emrys swung the door shut and turned on me with a swish of perfect hair and the narrowing of her captivating, dark eyes.
“You are too much, you know that, right?” She was pissed and I couldn’t find fault with her feeling that way.
“I’m sorry, okay? I really didn’t think anyone but you could hear me or that me pointing out the obvious would be considered fighting words.”
She tapped her foot, which was encased in a far more appropriate leather riding boot, and huffed out an annoyed breath.
“I know you didn’t think anyone could hear you, but that isn’t the point. The point is, you think everyone is pretending to be something they aren’t after all that crap Chris pulled on you. You’re making everyone suffer for it.”
Chris was the ex-boyfriend I was so sure I was going to spend forever with. He was the ex-boyfriend I had blissfully planned a future with and dreamily envisioned having children with. He was the ex-boyfriend I let in when I kept everyone else out because I thought he was perfect, and, more importantly, I thought we were absolutely perfect together. It was so easy to be together, effortless, uncomplicated. He was the ex-boyfriend who was everything I ever wanted, and he was the ex-boyfriend who had lied about everything.
He lied about what he did for a living. He lied about his past and his future. He lied to me about who he was and who I was to him. He lied, and he lied, and he lied some more, and when I called him out on his endless untruths, he made me feel like I asked for the dishonesty. He told me I made it easy for him to lie because I never asked him for the truth. He told me that I ignored all the obvious signs that I was being duped. This galled because I had turned a blind eye when things didn’t exactly add up because it was easier for me than digging in and risking more than I already had.
I’d broken up with Chris over three months ago. I was still licking my wounds because I couldn’t believe that I had been so stupid to fall for someone so fake, so phony. The end of the relationship was responsible for my current level of self-loathing and for my general misanthropy. His lies and my gullibility left me spinning and feeling like I could no longer trust my judgment or my decision-making skills. I was always so careful, so cautious, but Chris had broken through my defenses and now I felt foolish and scorned. As a result, I built my walls back up and made them so high and impenetrable, not even my best friend could climb over them.
The only person in my life who wasn’t my family, who I trusted without question, was the woman standing across from me. I hated that I had let her down repeatedly over the last few months. During my relationship, I had ignored her time and time again when she warned me that things with Chris didn’t add up. She told me over and over I should have seen where he lived, met his friends, been introduced to his family, considering we had dated for over six months. I let her down after the breakup, when I retreated into myself while I licked my wounds. I pretended that the last half of a year hadn’t completely destroyed my self-esteem. I wasn’t the girl who ever went out on a limb, and the one time I did, the branch snapped underneath me. Emrys deserved a better friend, because even when I’d been caught up in my own bullshit issues, she had never wavered.
I reached out my hands and put them on her shoulders. I had to look up at her to meet her eyes, but I did so sincerely. “We are going to have a great week together. I promise, no distractions. I will put a sock in it when it comes to the guys being not quite cowboys. I’ll lighten up and enjoy all this disgustingly clean, unpolluted air and unspoiled serenity. I’ll even try and smooth things over with Mr. Personality if it will make you happy, okay?”
She shook her head but a reluctant grin pulled at her mouth, a mouth that didn’t need lipstick or liner to make it look like a perfectly painted on Cupid’s bow. If she wasn’t my very best friend in the entire world, and I didn’t know how big her heart was and how endlessly giving and kind she was, it would be easy to dislike her for how seemingly easy she made being flawless seem. Luckily, we met long before Chris had turned me into a suspicious asshole who questioned everyone and everything. It would have been the greatest loss in my entire life to have missed out on the friendship Emrys and I had just because she was so intimidatingly faultless.
“I want you to reset and recharge, Leo. I want you to remember that you are the smartest, most capable woman I know. What happened with Chris isn’t what defines you. You got taken for a ride by a charming guy with a pretty face. There are consequences to that, but it isn’t the end of the world. You aren’t the first woman that has happened to. You won’t be the last. I want you to move on, get back to being the woman who has always been my best friend.” She sounded so sad, so frustrated, that it made my belly twist into a tight knot. She shook her head a little bit and gave me a look that made my heart twist painfully in my chest. “Because this woman,” she motioned to me, and I looked down and winced when I saw that she noticed the shirt I was wearing. I should have burned it when I told him I never wanted to see him again. “I’m not a huge fan of her.”
I wasn’t a huge fan either, but wasn’t entirely sure how to make her go away. In fact, I was starting to wonder if she was who I was destined to be from now on. That thought was so depressing, I insisted, “I am moving on.” I let my hands fall from her shoulders as I bent to pick up my bag and move it to one of the tiny twin beds that was set in a charming rustic frame. They had gone all out making the accommodations very ranch-like and I hated to admit that it was really cute and very charming. They did a good job researching what would appeal to their clients, and since that was how I made my living, learning and analyzing what people would spend their money on, I always appreciated it when a business had taken the extra steps to understand their client and their market.
I heard Emrys sigh from behind me. “You would never have discounted those guys as real cowboys before Chris. You would have been too distracted by how amazing their asses look in those jeans to worry about if they were cowboy enough or not.” Sadly, she had a point.
A strangled laugh escaped my lips and I turned to look at her over my shoulder. “Their asses did look pretty phenomenal in those jeans.” Cy’s especially when he had marched away after dressing me down with his long-legged and confident stride. He was a man who moved with purpose and determination. He moved like nothing would distract him or deter him from the path he was on, like whatever he had to do was far more important than anything else happening. I always envisioned a real cowboy would move like that, minus the slightly bow-legged stance that my overactive imagination often added for dramatic effect.
Emrys laughed and some of the weight I’d been carrying around in my heart lately lightened a bit.
“Just play nice with everyone for the next week, Leo. That’s all I’m asking.”
“I can do that.” She wasn’t asking for much, and as long as big brother Warner stayed away from me, I should be able to comply with no problem. I was here to invest some quality time in our friendship and to give my battered heart and sense of self some much-needed space. My ability to trust and my faith in my own judgment had been eviscerated. Maybe the quiet and disconnect from everything that was familiar would work at healing all the things Chris and his lies had left torn and tattered.
I was going to do my best to trust these not quite cowboys to not only guide us through the mountains and the wilderness but hope that along the way, they somehow managed to guide me back to who I was before I was broken.