Page 14 of Take Me Please, Cowboy
“I was thinking the very same thing,” he agreed, an appreciative gleam in his eye.
Warmth rushed through her, coiling in her belly, making her tingle.“Now as far as I’m aware, Montana does not have a significant barbecue culture.”
“No, but that doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy great ribs.”
“You’re a rib man, then?”
“I’m a if-it’s-really-good-I-want-it man.”He smiled, his faint but very sexy smile that revealed his dimple.“We could meet for dinner tonight, if you feel like company.”
She would definitely like company,hiscompany.Rye made her feel eager and hopeful.He also made her feel safe, not something she consciously thought about, but he was just solid and real.She’d never related to the phrase salt of the earth before, a phrase her mom used often when Ansley was growing up, but it fit Rye.He was good and honest… salt of the earth.He didn’t strike her as one of those men who would overstep boundaries, or force attention on a woman.There were a lot of men who did, and it was one thing to head out for an evening in Last Stand, where everyone knew she was Callen Campbell’s daughter, which meant, if you messed with her, you’d have to deal with her dad and five angry brothers.But here, no one knew her.In fact, few people seemed to even know her uncle.She wondered why.Had he and her late aunt not made themselves part of the community?
“I’d love some company,” she said.“If you’re free.”
“I’m free.”He glanced at the poster in the window.“Looks like dinner is from five to seven.What if we meet at the diner at six?Would that work for you?”
“Sounds great.”
The afternoon passed slowly for Ansley.Once back on the ranch, she made herself a sandwich, then cleaned the house, changed the sheets on her uncle’s bed, added a vase of white roses from the garden to his bedside table, before taking a glass of iced tea to the loft.She had plenty of time to get some work done.But sitting in front of her easel, she didn’t feel inspired.
After an hour fussing at her easel, she gave up, returned to the house for a long soak in the tub, and then switching to the shower feature to wash her hair.
Tonight wasn’t a date.This wasn’t a romantic thing, and there was no pressure.They were just meeting up, two people in a new place killing some time.
There was no need to be nervous, she reminded herself, blow-drying her hair and then touching up some of the natural waves with her hair iron.
It was important she go in with zero expectations than be hurt, or disappointed.
Or hurting or disappointing Rye, because honestly, that was sometimes worse.Being the bad guy.Being labeled selfish.Self-centered.Insensitive.
Ansley wasn’t looking for a relationship.Nor was she interested in hooking up with a stranger.She didn’t do hookups, and when she dated, things tended to get serious quickly.Her last serious relationship was very serious.Clark had wanted to get married, but even after two years together she didn’t feel ready.He waited one more year, asked her again, and when she still said no, he ended things.Angrily.Brutally.It had been a messy and painful end to three years together, and as much as she hated disappointing Clark, she just couldn’t commit to marriage.Not even to an engagement.
Perhaps one day she’d marry, but she wasn’t ready anytime soon.She thought of her mom’s life, the six kids, the endless dishes and loads of laundry, the hours in the kitchen, the hours driving carpool, never mind all those parent-teacher meetings and the overseeing homework, the focus on grades.The Campbells were good students, too.It wasn’t like Callen and Andi had raised a bunch of troublemakers, but with five sons, the Campbell boys sometimes got into it.They were smart and ambitious, but they weren’t perfect.So no, Ansley wasn’t rushing toward marriage or children.
She was finally out on her own, away from her family, which loomed large in Last Stand.As the youngest, they’d loomed large over her.
Growing up, she’d been shy, and her dad had always said she was sweet, but beneath the shy sweet exterior, she’d been a fiery little girl who was fed up with her bossy brothers, perplexed by her cheerful but overworked mother, and a little intimidated by her tough dad who loved and disciplined in equal measure.
Montana provided a new start.Montana meant she could find herself, figure out her own path, pursue her own interests and dreams, whatever they might be.Even if they weren’t fiscally intelligent.
Her dad had always harped on making good financial decisions, and yes, being wise with one’s money was important, but not to the exclusion of all else.Life was more than paying bills.Life was filled with beauty and art, and she loved her art.Painting gave her tremendous satisfaction.Creating made her feel complete, like the person she was always meant to be, and if she only made a little money off of it, fine.If she was able to keep a roof over her head, why not do what she wanted to do?
Ansley finished dressing, tucking her sleeveless red blouse into the waistband of her jeans.She added a number of necklaces, layering them to fill the deepVof the blouse’s neckline before pulling her hair back into a long ponytail.No, she’d leave it down tonight, the long, feathered layers her ode to the seventies.Ansley loved the seventies and early eighties—the music, the fashion, the sense of possibility.From everything her mom had told her, it was such a different era than today.She wished she’d grown up then, before there was social media and technology that blared bad news all the time.
She sat down on the edge of her bed, put on socks and then her boots.She wasn’t trying to pretend bad things didn’t happen, but sometimes it was hard to find the good things in America with all the negativity, and yet she knew there were good people, and great things being done.But the good news didn’t get the attention of the bad news, and there were times Ansley felt overwhelmed by the problems of the world, problems she didn’t know how to fix.Which was yet another reason she’d come to live with Uncle Clyde for a while.
She wanted to focus on what she could do—which was create beauty.And maybe art wasn’t as important as other things, but art and beauty could make others feel good.Beauty could inspire, and her art could maybe make people happy.It was a way she could give back to the world.It was a way she felt useful and productive.Her dad didn’t get it.Her brothers didn’t get it.She wasn’t sure her mother understood, but it was enough that she knew what Ansley wanted to do.Ansley had too much she wanted to accomplish to spend time defending her choices to her family.Better to move here and just get busy, doing what she wanted to do, being who she wanted to be.
Ansley grabbed a jean jacket from her closet, turned out her bedroom light and scooped up her small leather backpack.After locking the house, she got into her car and began the half-hour drive to Marietta.It used to take her even longer, but she’d become more comfortable with the narrow winding road that took one down the mountain.At least on the highway it was easy driving, the highway in excellent condition.Highway 89 was a major route for those going to Yellowstone, which she hoped to see one day soon.
Ansley was on the outskirts of Marietta when he called her.“You’re going to have to park off Main Street a few blocks,” he said.“It’s pretty busy down here.”
“I’m not far away, so I’ll start looking for parking once I’m in town.”
“Take your time, I’m not going anywhere.”
Rye’s words wrapped around her insides, warming her.“See you soon.”
Hanging up, she focused on navigating the neighborhood east of Marietta’s historic district.Her uncle had told her there had been a lot of development in the past ten years with new neighborhoods created northwest of town, with new housing developments, schools, banks, and shopping centers.But Marietta had done a good job retaining its historical character with its red brick buildings and turn-of-the-century Western façades.
