My Cowboy

CORA

Crappy country music played over the speakers of a completely silenced room as I stood in the doorway of the Dusk Bar. Peering at the room full of cowboys, I popped my head back outside to make sure there wasn’t a sign that said “men only.”

Nope.

Fuck it.

My red heel-clad feet clicked on the concrete floor as I made my way over to the bar to take a seat on a wobbly wooden stool.

Even in my simple outfit of dark jeans and a lacy tank, I was painfully overdressed. Some men were in plaid or denim button-up shirts, but the majority wore sweaty T-shirts and wife beaters.

“I’ll be right with you, honey,” said the bartender as he popped the caps off a couple of beers.

I nodded, trying to keep my face forward as the men began minding their own business again. Some played pool or darts while most sat at tables shooting the breeze.

I pulled out my phone, still feeling eyes on me. Cursing the lack of reception in this shithole, I decided on old-fashioned texting to my crazy-ass friends.

Using my phone for something other than social media, I lamented the fact that I couldn’t update my status to “Stuck in Hicksville. Send help.”

I was interrupted by a tall, solid guy with blond curly hair, wearing a wife beater, who came up next to me. His body odor offended my nostrils, and I could feel his eyes lingering on my chest.

Just ignore him and keep your eyes forward.

“Hey there, sweet thang,” he said, his beer breath hot on my neck.

Silence.

“You don’t talk much.” He stepped even closer. “Bet I could make ya squeal.”

He’s not going away. Not unless you tell him to.

“What do you want?” I said harshly as I faced him.

“Ain’t it obvious, baby?” His dirty hand began to graze my bare arm, and I shook it off with a murderous gaze.

“Fucking touch me again and I’ll break a barstool over your head!”

“You one of them carpet munchers?” He smiled. “I like a challenge.”

“Back off, Dodger,” I heard a male voice say. Looking to my left, I saw that it was coming from the bartender.

“Come on, Reg,” he said. “I just wanted to find out the pretty lady’s name.”

He grabbed me again, this time encircling his arm around my waist, but I quickly elbowed him hard in the chest.

“I said don’t fucking touch me!”

“You’re cut off! Get the hell out!” said the bartender.

Dodger threw his hands up in surrender and sauntered toward the door, letting out, “We’ll chat again soon, sweet thang,” as he exited.

“I’m real sorry about that. You okay, miss?” he said.

“Yes, I’ve dealt with worse than that inbred fuck… Thank you.”

“You Greg’s girl?” he asked.

How the hell do these hillbillies know who I am?

“He was my father, yes.”

“You look just like him. Same eyes, same hair color… Cora isn’t it?”

“It is.” I eyed him.

“What can I get ya, Cora?”

“Pinot Grigio?” I requested.

“That’s wine?” he asked, lifting an eyebrow.

“Yes, white wine. Or Chardonnay if you don’t have it.”

“‘Fraid we don’t have any wine in here.”

“Oh, um, what do you have besides beer?” I asked.

“Liquor we got is vodka, rum, whiskey, and tequila,” he said, pointing to the bottles on the shelf behind him.

“How about a rum and Diet?”

“Sure, I think I got some diet pop somewhere back here,” he said as he rummaged under the bar. “Ah, here we go!” He pulled out a can of off-brand diet cola and made my drink.

“So I hear you’re takin’ over your daddy’s ranch,” he said as he slid the glass toward me.

“Uh, yeah. Not that I know anything about ranching.”

“Your old man was my best friend. I’m sorry for your loss, darlin’. My name’s Reg. If there’s anything you need, let me know, okay? If I can’t help ya myself, I’ll be able to point ya to someone who can. The folks in this town’ll do just ‘bout anything to help out Greg’s kid. He was one in a million.”

I honestly didn’t know how to break it to him: that this guy he thought so highly of had only ever been a deadbeat dad to me. But Reg seemed like a decent man, so I kept my mouth shut and ordered another drink—a double this time.

“Reg?”

“Yeah, hon?”

“Did everyone know my father?”

“Of course, darlin’. He saved the town.”

Before I could ask him to elaborate, he went on.

“Ya know, it’s so nice to finally have you here takin’ care of everything. Your daddy would be so proud. He just talked about you all the time.”

What the hell could he have to talk about? He barely even knew me.

“He carried your school pictures in his wallet and showed off how pretty you was to everyone,” Reg continued. “I know you’ll do great things with his ranch. He always said how smart you was.”

“We’ll see... Like I said, I really don’t know anything about ranching.”

I knew Reg didn’t intend to rub me the wrong way, but hearing this crap when I knew Greg Austin’s true nature—that he was, in fact, the kind of man to leave his pregnant wife and never so much as send me a birthday card in my entire twenty-seven years—made my blood boil.

If he loved me so much, why hadn’t he tried to contact me or see me more?

Guess I’ll never know the answer to that question.

I’d come into this bar with feelings of general indifference toward my dad, and now, hearing this description of the bullshit he spewed like he was the father of the year made me seethe with nothing short of rage. I needed some air.

“Excuse me for a minute,” I said, sliding off the barstool. I walked toward the door to take a breather from all of the father-knows-best talk. As I was about to pull the door open, a group of feral-looking women walked in, the one in front knocking into me.

“Watch it!” she snapped. She was maybe around my mother’s age, short with bleached hair that looked like it hadn’t had a root touch-up in several months. Her faded T-shirt, with a screen-printed logo of some backwoods barbecue place, hung unflatteringly from her skinny frame.

She looked me up and down. “Check it out, ladies. We got ourselves a Barbie Doll!” She reeked of cigarettes, and I could hear by her speech that she must be missing some back teeth.

Rolling my eyes, I tried walking around the trashy ringleader before she intentionally knocked into me again. “You stay away from our men, you hear?”

“Excuse me?”

“Our men! You think you can slink around in your pretty outfits and your makeup tryin’ ta impress ’em, but you just keep your hoity-toity hands off!

I’m in the Twilight Zone…or Deliverance.

“Look, lady.” I stared her down. “I don’t know who your man is, but you can have him.”

“They all are!”

Seriously? I’m not one to judge a person’s sex life, but Jesus!

“That’s fine,” I spat back. “You can have them all.”

I need to get the hell out of here.

I walked back up to the bar and said, “I’ll just settle up my tab now, Reg.”

“Sure thing, darlin’,” he replied. “Fifteen dollars.”

I slid a twenty to him as I sipped the last bit of rum and soda in my glass.

“You think just cuz you’re a city slicker you can take what we got?” I heard the psycho woman say close behind me. Her posse of fellow cousin-fuckers giggled from a table they had taken over.

“Vicki,” Reg said, “leave the girl alone. She ain’t done nothin’ to you.”

“Suck my pussy, Reg!” she hurled back.

Classy chick, this one.

“What, our men ain’t good enough for ya?” She looked up at me.

“It’s not that,” I said, venom in my voice. “I just wouldn’t want to catch anything after they’ve been near your crusty, hairy cunt.”

The room erupted into laughter at my comment.

I heard her yell at some poor dope at a nearby table. “Don’t you fuckin’ look at her! Fake-ass bitch! I’m fixin’ ta kick that slut’s ass if she stays around here much longer!”

Reg was fiddling with cash when I finally said, “Just keep the change, Reg.” regretting that I hadn’t driven my own car here.

The ranch is only about a mile from here. It’ll suck in these shoes, but I can walk… I just hope she doesn’t follow me.

Just then, I felt something wet cascade over my head. I turned around to see Vicki standing behind me, beer bottle in hand.

The fucking bitch poured a drink on me!

“What the hell is wrong with you?!?” I screamed as she came in closer, inches from my face.

“You want more?” she yelled, waving her arms around like a baboon. “Come on, bitch!” She shoved me backward, but I caught my balance.

I was fucking livid. Standing my ground, I stepped back toward her.

This is just perfect. My second day in Hicksville and I’m about to get into my first bar fight.