The Cougar and the Cowboy

“I’m confused. You live with some guy but you don’t…you know…”

“Have sex?” she asked as she helped him find the words he couldn’t seem to spit out.

“Yeah…that.”

“Collier, are you blushing? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I occasionally forget not everyone is as straightforward as I am. Anyway, Will and I have known each other for a very, very long time. We began as friends, progressed to friends and lovers, then thirty years ago, our relationship digressed back to just friends. As of about thirty minutes ago, we are no longer even friends.”

“What happened thirty minutes ago? I mean, no one knows you’re here. How could he do something to irritate you that much if he can’t talk to you?”

Camille took a deep breath while looking out the window at the passing scenery.

“Somehow, he found a way. He called the land line that’s still connected at the house. I told him I had to leave, hung up and promptly unplugged the line. He doesn’t have my cell phone number so maybe it’s over.”

“What did he want? What if he does find you? Camille, are you afraid of him? Will he hurt you?”

She shivered at the thought but immediately dismissed it. “He won’t hurt me, Collier. He’s actually a decent guy and I loved him once…long ago. I believe he still has feelings for me but more importantly, I’m holding the winning card, so to speak. I have some papers in my safe that could do him a lot of harm but we have an agreement. I will never use that information and he will never divulge the details, either. It’s complicated. It deals with a hostile takeover, a brokerage firm, some traded stocks, and various other semi-illegal things. We agreed to never speak of it and the only reason I feel safe telling you is because I know you and Will are never going to meet. I’m also sure that’s way more information than you wanted to know.”

The subject was dropped. They arrived at The Branding Iron, found a place to park, and Collier came around the truck to open her door.

‘Aaan

d, he’s a gentleman, too.’ Camille thought.

As they entered, it took a minute for her eyes to adjust to the dim interior. There was a country tune coming from a sound system somewhere, several tables were filled and there were a few people at the bar. Collier placed his hand on the small of her back and guided her to the one end of the bar where a woman with beautiful red hair was conversing with a customer.

“Hey Maggie,” he shouted.

She immediately turned her head and smiled, while coming around the end of the bar. She wrapped her arms around him, saying, “Collier, where the heck you been? I’ve not seen you in here in months. I missed ya, you good-lookin’ devil. Where’ve you been hidin’ yourself?”

Collier was grinning and had his arms around Maggie in a bear hug. When they let go of each other, she noticed Camille. Collier said, “Maggie, I want you to meet a friend, Ca…Emily. And, Emily, this is Maggie, the best and most beautiful bartender in Montana.”

Camille offered her hand, and Maggie grabbed it with both of hers. “Well, now I know where Collier’s been spendin’ his time.”

They moved to a table and ordered drinks and sandwiches. As they were eating and talking, a tall, dark-haired man came striding up to their table. He walked with a pronounced limp but it didn’t seem to slow him down too much. Collier stood and shook hands with him. “Good to see you, Jace. It’s been a while. This,” he said, indicating Camille, “is a new friend and client, Emily. She’s living in the big house on Flagler Rd.”

Jace shook hands with her and she noted he had the most disarming smile that just tugged at the corners of his mouth, sensous lips and deep, penetrating eyes.

“It’s good to meet you, Emily. Bozeman can always use more beautiful residents.”

‘Good Lord, how many handsome men can I meet in this town? And they both seem to be much younger than me. Who needs a dating site with specimens like this walking around?’

Turning his attention to Collier, Jace agreed with his earlier statement. “It has been a while, Buddy. I’ve been doing a bit of wandering with the horses before I sent the one back to Texas by way of Colorado.”

Jace sat down at their table while he and Collier discussed the trip to Colorado he recently took and some other local happenings. Finally, he stood and excused himself. “I think Mitch needs me. It was nice to meet, you…Emily, right? Don’t be a stranger. You can come to The Branding Iron without bringing this old man with you,” he said, jerking his thumb toward Collier.

“Hey, who you calling an old man? If I recall, you were blowing out 42 candles on your last birthday cake, Jace.”

They both laughed, shook hands and Jace went to the back room.

“He’s a great guy. We’ve been friends for quite a while. I forgot to tell you he’s the owner of this establishment. I’ve heard some rumors that he’s in a financial bind. I hope it’s not true. I’d hate to see this place sold or worse…torn down.”

Camille looked around the interior. It had wooden flooring worn smooth by years of boots walking on it, the walls were a lighter wood and the bar, itself, was magnificent. It was large and had a soft patina from years of use. As a journalist, she wondered how many conversations had been shared there and how many life decisions had been made or affected while someone leaned on that bar. It would, indeed, be a shame to tear the building down.

Instead of taking her directly home, Collier drove around the darkened streets of Bozeman. “I hope you don’t mind. This is a little night sightseeing. If you stay long enough, you’ll hear about Old Bozeman and New Bozeman. Don’t be too swayed by some things people say. It really is just one community with of course, different elements, like any town or village. Some of the long-time residents resent the newcomers and vice-versa but they also know those same people bring in much needed funds for development and progress. We all have to live together because ultimately, we all love our town and this state.”

When they reached her house, he walked her to the door.

“Would you like to come in for a minute?”