Love Drunk Cowboy by Carolyn Brown

the kitchen door and then Felix yelled her name. She kicked off her shoes and padded barefoot through the living room.
    “Hello, come on in. I was in the back of the house. Here’s your money.” She picked up the envelopes on her way to where he stood just inside the door and handed them to him.
    “Could I get pickup keys too?”
    She unhooked the keys from a rack at the end of the bar.
    “Not those. That is Miz Lanier’s fancy new truck keys. The ones on the other side with the red keychain is the old work truck.”
    She replaced the keys and picked the other set off the rack. “Where is this new truck?”
    “She keeps it in the shed behind the house. The old work truck is parked in the backyard. It is so old the weather and dust storms don’t do much damage.”
    “Why don’t you just keep those keys while you are here? That way, if you need something from town you can go get it.”
    “Thank you.” Felix grinned.

    ***
    She really meant to take a quick bath in the big claw-footed tub but when she sunk down in the warm water, she groaned and leaned her head back on a rolled towel. She’d forgotten how well her body fit in the tub and just how deep it was. She shut her eyes and a picture of Rye appeared instantly. She snapped them open so fast she swore she could hear the pop.
    She was not going to think about that man even if he was the best eye candy she’d seen in months. She lazed in the water until it went cold, contemplated letting part of the water out and refilling it with hot, but didn’t. She stepped out and wrapped a big white towel around her body. She dried her hair, brushed her teeth, dressed in a pair of soft knit pajamas, and opened the door to her grandmother’s bedroom but couldn’t make herself go inside. She had at least five hours before bedtime and she could get a lot done in that time but she was mentally exhausted. She couldn’t face packing a single box or going through even one dresser drawer that day. All she wanted to do was curl up in an easy chair and shut her eyes. On Thursday she’d call the old man, Rye, like she always did and they’d have their usual conversation. But a quick reality check told her that nothing was normal and wouldn’t be again. Granny was gone. She wasn’t coming back. Rye wasn’t an old man. He was a helluva sexy cowboy.
    Tomorrow after the lawyer came and went she’d get serious about the business of packing up Granny’s things. She’d done enough for one day. She went to the living room, turned on the television, channel surfed until she found reruns of NCIS , and settled into the worn recliner where her grandmother had always sat.

    ***
    Kent left at five thirty but Rye worked until dark with Austin on his mind all evening. He finally got the tractor in running order and drove his old work truck back to his house. When he removed his shirt and tossed it at the dirty clothes hamper he realized he hadn’t changed clothes after he’d driven Austin to Ryan. His favorite Sunday shirt now had big round ugly oil stains all over the front. He looked down at his jeans and groaned. They’d come from the cleaners just last week and hadn’t even been worn until that day. Now they had grass stains on the knees, oil on the hip pockets where he’d wiped his hands, and a nice two-inch tear down the thigh.
    His best boots had weathered a dust storm, waded through a feed lot and the pasture, as well as kicked the tractor wheel more than once. It would take a week to get them back to the shine they’d had that morning when he put them on to go to the cafe.
    “What was I thinking?” he said.
    He went to the window in the kitchen and looked out across the road at the little white house. The blue light flickering from the living room said that Austin had the television on. What was she watching? Did she like old movies like he did? What would it be like to share his oversized recliner and a bottle of cold beer with her while they watched a movie?
    He stood