Cowboy Take Me Away

Chapter 3

After a while, Jamie went inside, and just I stood in the yard, not knowing what to do. "Go clean up, Charlie, you're covered in blood from hugging him," Beth told me. "Come on, you can use my bathroom," she said, tugging at my arm.

To be honest, I think I was running on auto-pilot after that moment. When I came to, I was sitting in a hot bath, with no recollection of how I got there. I slid down under the water to get my hair wet. I was so emotionally drained of energy, but at the same time, I hated myself for not trying harder to stop him. Even if Beth was right, I still should have tried harder.

I scrubbed my skin raw, and got up out of the tub. I dried off with a towel that had been left on a nearby chair. I looked around for clean clothes to put on and swore under my breath. I really didn't want to have to make the trek over to the cabin in just a fucking towel.

"Charlie?" I heard Beth call as she tapped on the door. "I've got clothes for you. I went and got you some stuff so can stay for a couple days up here."

I felt myself deflate, and relax a bit. "Thank you," I replied.

"I'm gonna leave the bag on the bed, and you can come out and get changed," she told me.

"Okay." I waited to go out until I heard the bedroom door close. She'd packed a small duffel bag full of stuff for me. I dug my black sleep pants out from the bottom of the pile, and a green sweatshirt.

I changed and put my hair up into a wet bun, before walking out into the hall. Beth was leaning up against the wall. "I checked, your room is still in a livable condition, if you want to get some sleep," she suggested.

"I don't want to be by myself," I replied quietly.

"I'll lay in there with you, and if you happen to pass out on me, I won't hold it against you," she said. "You good with that?"

"Yeah," I nodded. We walked down the hall to my childhood bedroom. I pulled back the blankets and got under the covers, staring up at the ceiling. Beth got in next to me, and pulled the covers back up.

We laid there quietly for several long moments.

"Can I ask you a question?" she asked, looking over at me.

"Sure," I nodded slightly.

"Who did I see you with over on this side of the house last night?" Beth asked.

I felt my cheeks turning red. "His name is Ryan," I mumbled.

"That doesn't tell me who he is," she said, turning on her side to get a better look at me.

"He's one of the cowboys," I admitted.

"How long has this been going on?" she pressed. It became evident that she was trying to get me to think about something else.

"Um, about four months," I guessed. "He's a good guy, a real gentleman." I yawned and rolled over to face Beth. "What happened to What's-His-Face, that you were dating?" I asked, trying to change the subject.

"Got rid of him," she replied matter of factly.

"Why?" I yawned.

"He was a prick," Beth replied. The tone in her voice said that was all the information I was going to get on that subject. "So how did whatever this is with you and the cowboy start?"

"I met him at a bar before he started working here," I explained. "There's a little bit of a story," I said through another yawn. I rolled onto my side, and pulled the blankets tight around me. "I'll tell you later," I mumbled. "Daddy doesn't know."

Beth snorted, "You sure about that?"

"Mostly."

I fell asleep. I don't know when Beth got up, but when I woke up a few hours later, she was gone. I laid in bed for a bit, before going back downstairs.

The house seemed deserted, except for my dad. He was in his office with the door shut, but I could still hear him on the phone. I walked over and tapped on the glass door. He looked over, and waved me inside.

From the small bits of conversation that I heard, it sounded like he was making arrangements for Lee's funeral. I curled up in one of the big leather chairs in front of the desk.

"How are you holding up, sweetheart?" he asked when he hung up the phone.

"You and I both know I've had better days," I replied.

"Haven't we all?" he replied. "We're burying Lee in three days." He wasted no time sharing that information.

All I could do was nod my response.

"I want you to move back to the main house. I don't want you rattling around that cabin by yourself," he said.

Part of me wanted to protest, but the other part of me dreaded going back to the cabin, alone with all of Lee's things, like he'd be home any minute. "Fine. I'm going to need help getting my stuff up here."

"Take Colby in the morning."

"Okay."

I got up from the chair, and went back upstairs to find my boots. I grabbed my phone off the bed, and sent Ryan a text, asking if he could meet me at the cabin. I decided it was probably best if I did some packing.

Once I got my boots laced up, I made the trek over to the cabin that I shared with Lee. When I got to the cabin, I looked around, and Ryan wasn't there. I sat down on the porch, not quite ready to face it yet.

I looked up when I heard footsteps coming toward me, to find Ryan approaching, a little while later. "I'd ask how you're feeling, but I think I already know," Ryan said, sitting down on the step next to me. I leaned my head against his shoulder, as Ryan put an arm around me.

"I feel like crap," I mumbled, sniffing to hold back the tears.

"You don't have to hold it in, Charlie. It's okay to cry."

"I know," I replied as the tears started to fall. "My dad wants me to move back into the main house."

"Is that what you want?" he asked.

"Part of me does. I'm supposed to ask Colby to help me move my stuff in the morning. I came over to start packing, but I haven't gone inside yet."

"Do you want me to help?"

"I just don't want to be alone in there."

"Just tell me when you're ready."

I wiped my eyes and nodded. "Let's get this over with," I said, standing up. I stumbled a bit, and Ryan caught me as he stood up. "Thanks." I turned, walked up the stairs, and pushed open the front door.

Everything was where it had been left the day before. Our coffee cups were still sitting in the sink. Ryan trailed inside after me. "You can sit anywhere," I said.

I went back into my room, and pulled out my suitcases.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Ryan asked again, following me into the bedroom.

"You're helping just by being here," I replied. "Just have a seat, and try to distract me while I work." I gesture to the chair in the corner of the room.

"How should I do that?" Ryan replied, raising an eyebrow at me. He took his hat off, and rested it on his knee as he sat down. "The only ways I can think of, aren't appropriate under the circumstances."

I couldn't help the giggle that escaped my lips. "How about you tell me a story?"

"What kind of story?"

"Surprise me."

(To be continued...)