The Cougar and the Cowboy

Readers had been encouraged to send their personal stories and experiences with dating sites and the end results. Did they marry the person they met? Did they have a humorous encounter or possibly a dangerous encounter? Were they able to recognize a scam immediately or were they actually scammed out of their savings? And last but not least, how many of them joined a dating site for the sex aspect? Was their experience what they thought it would be or were there embarrassing encounters due to age, appearance or perhaps, technique? Camille could hardly wait to read the responses she knew would be forthcoming. As long as they were assured of their anonymity, people jumped at the chance to tell their story.

After the plane landed, Camille went in search of her leased vehicle. As she was handed the keys, the counter person said, “Thank you, Ms. Hasbro. It’s been a pleasure to serve you.” Thinking he was speaking to the person behind her, Camille made no comment and continued to check her phone messages.

Then she heard, “Ms. Hasbro, is everything all right?”

It finally hit her that she was Ms. Hasbro. Emily Hasbro. She gave a weak smile and nodded. “Yes, I’m fine. I guess my ears haven’t unplugged yet.”

‘Great, Camille. Just great. You can’t remember your new name for an hour…how the heck are you ever going to pull this off for six months?’

She spoke the address of her mother’s house into her phone. She had never even s

een a picture of the place. Knowing Barbara, Camille was certain it was very nice but she didn’t know if her mother had upgrades or maintenance done on it either. When she finally found the address, she pulled into the drive, which was large enough for three vehicles and smiled.

She spoke her thoughts out loud. “Well Barbara, you outdid yourself on this one. Holy Cow! Did you plan on having half of Bozeman come for a party or were you trying to make a statement to your neighbors about your unending wealth?”

She checked her messages for the code to unlock the door and grabbed her rolling briefcase. She would return later to bring her few pieces of luggage inside. The interior of the house was as luxurious as the exterior…in a rugged, mountain palace kind of way. She wasn’t sure if mountain décor and palace could be used in the same context but it was the first thing that came to mind. As she toured the ground floor, she made a mental note of thanks that there were no stuffed animal heads on the walls. The fireplace was enormous as was every piece of furniture. Camille shook her head in disbelief. This was not Barbara’s style…Paris was. Why on earth did she purchase this humongous home with acres of lawn in the middle of nowhere? It made no sense.

Camille flopped down in one of the overstuffed chairs and put her feet on the footstool which could easily have seated four people. No sooner had she sat down when the doorbell rang. The unexpected sound startled her and she jumped to her feet.

Her first thought was, ‘Who could possibly be at the door? Bozeman’s Welcome Wagon?’

When she cautiously opened the massive wooden door and peered out, she was greeted by a man in jeans and boots with no shirt on to hide his tanned and extremely muscular body.

‘If this is the Welcome Wagon representative, I can see why Mother bought the house.’

“Yes?” she asked after she found her voice.

“Hi there. Didn’t mean to frighten you, Camille. That is your name, correct?” He pulled a scrap of paper from his back pocket and checked it. Nodding his head at what was on the paper, he said, “Yep. Barbara said you were coming in today and I should introduce myself.” He offered his hand and a gorgeous smile full of the whitest teeth she had ever seen. “My name’s Collier Phillips. I take care of the place for your mother. I apologize for not wearing a shirt but I just ripped mine while planting some shrubs at the last job.”

He fished a card out of another pocket and handed it to her. “If there’s anything you need, Camille, just call me. I take care of the landscaping…unless you want to do it yourself.” He looked at her attire and polished nails and smiled. As an afterthought, he added, “I can repair anything, I can move furniture, I can paint walls if you want a different look and I can even tell you the best establishments to purchase things or where the best eateries are located. But right now, I’ll retrieve your bags and bring them in.”

She nodded at him but couldn’t get any words to come out.

After he brought the two small bags to the door and set them down, he told her, “I will need to come in to the utility room long enough to turn on the water. I was here yesterday and made sure your stove and all appliances were working properly but I had an emergency call from a customer and had to leave before I got to turn the water on. I thought I’d be here before you arrived today but your flight must have been a bit early.”

She hesitantly opened the door wide enough for him to enter the front foyer.

“I appreciate you doing this,” was all she could come up with.

“That’s what Barbara pays me for. She said you’re a writer and you’ll be staying for six months?”

“Yes. That’s the plan,” she mumbled as she followed him to the utility area.

He squatted down to turn some handles and when he stood, he nearly knocked her over.

“Sorry,” she said, embarrassed. “I was watching what you were doing so I would know where the water could be turned on and off.”

Somehow, it didn’t sound right to say, ‘I was gazing appreciatively at your broad back and shoulders.’

Collier headed back to the front door. “You probably don’t have any groceries in here yet. I can pick up a few things for you if you make a list for me or if you’re too tired to cook anything, I’ll tell you a great place to grab a burger and a cold beer. It’s in downtown Bozeman…Old Bozeman…and it’s called The Branding Iron. Nothing fancy, but a clean establishment with great food and a friendly atmosphere. If you go, ask for Maggie. She’s a friend of mine. She’s also the bartender so you won’t have to look far. Tell her Collier sent you.”

With that, he disappeared out the front door and Camille collapsed on the couch.

‘I cannot believe the first person I meet knows my real name, my occupation and that I’m Barbara’s daughter. What else does he know about me and who has he told? Judas! This is never going to work.’

CHAPTER 13

JACE HAD MADE a point of meeting Danielle’s father, Dean. He realized she wasn’t a child but thought it was the right thing to do if he was going to make a long trip with her. This morning, he made a pot of coffee while he waited for Danielle to arrive with her stock trailer. He poured all of it into a thermos except for enough to fill a cup to drink before she showed up. He was extremely sad about taking Jasper back but still felt strangely excited about the trip. Maybe he needed a few days away from bills, past due mortgage payments, Blakely showing up every few days to harass him, new emails from women every day and even The Branding Iron. He really loved the bar and the friends he had there but some days it was too taxing to have to think about it all.