Chapter Twenty Eight

Pushing the door open, Jon glanced up as the old-fashioned bell above his head rang softly, like something out of a cowboy movie. Grinning, he let the door close behind him, looking around the store.

“Afternoon.” Came a voice from off to his left somewhere. “Help you?”

“Oh, hi.” He turned, seeing a middle-aged man behind a counter. “No, I’m good, thanks. Just need a few things.”

The man just nodded, his eyes non-committal, and as Jon walked across the store toward a rack of jeans he could feel the guy watching him. Wondering if they just didn’t like strangers, Jon caught sight of himself in a mirror and realised that perhaps he didn’t look like the type of customer they wanted. His hair was at least clean, but it did hang well down past his shoulders, wavy and unruly as ever. Maybe he should also consider increasing the regularity with which he forced himself to drag a razor over his face, as the four-day growth of stubble on his face made him look even more like some wandering Hell’s Angel.

He reached the rack of jeans, now slightly self-conscious, sure that the guy was still watching him closely. Flipping through hangers, Jon found jeans in his size and pulled a pair from their hanger, holding them up. Okay, so they weren’t designer labels, but he never really bothered about that anyway.

“Finding what you need?”

Jon started - he hadn’t heard the man approach, and he turned around.

“Thanks. Yeah. I just need some fresh jeans. Okay to try these?”

“Hey, Cal.” Yet another male voice. “Do you have any………oh, hi. Jon, isn’t it?”

Turning again, Jon saw Mike, the vet he and Billie had rousted out of bed in the middle of the night.

“Hi Mike. Good to see you.”

“Mike?” The guy that Jon now assumed was Cal gestured toward Jon. “You know him?”

“Huh? Yeah, sure. He’s staying out at the Kelsall place. He and Billie had to bring Deke in late last night. Or was it this morning?”

“Morning, I think.” Jon grinned. “Thanks for looking after him - I really thought he’d had it, but he seems fine now.”

“That’s what I do.” Mike nodded, though, accepting the gratitude. “Keeping pressure on the wounds is probably what saved him, so Billie has you to thank for that.”

“Not those damned coyotes again?” Cal asked, and Mike nodded.

“Yeah. Seems that way.”

“It was.” Jon interjected. “But it won’t be biting anything else. Deke killed it before he came to me.”

“Good.” Cal said with finality, then smiled at Jon for the first time. “Sorry, son. Go right ahead and try those on if you want. Changing room over in the corner.”

“Thanks.”

Carrying the jeans, and picking up a couple of shirts that appealed to him as he passed, Jon headed for the changing room, grinning wryly as he thought how Mike’s arrival had been very timely. If nothing else, the fact that the vet vouched for him had elevated him from an outsider to be treated with suspicion to an almost-local, deserving of friendly treatment and trust.

He closed himself into the changing room and quickly changed his own jeans for the new pair. They fit fine, so he pulled his own back on and then tried one of the shirts for size. Another success, and Jon left the changing room, heading to the cash register. He got a little sidetracked on the way when a flash of mottled blue caught his eye, so when he finally got to the counter he had another shirt in his hands, piling it all in front of Cal.

“Damn.” Jon said suddenly. “You take Amex, right?”

“Sure.” Cal said agreeably. “You got ID?”

“Uh - driver’s license?”

“That’ll do it.”

Cal added the total and Jon handed over his card and license. He’d scrawled his signature on the slip - Cal didn’t even check it - and was stuffing his wallet back into his pocket when there was a female voice behind him.

“Excuse me. Are you Jon?”

“Yeah.” Cursing silently, Jon turned around, braced for an autograph request. He wasn’t sure whether he was relieved or insulted when the young girl just smiled.

“Billie asked me to let you know she’s taking the truck around back, to pick up some feed. I can take you through that way.”

“Oh. Okay, thanks.” He said.

He’d have been a liar if he’d said that it didn’t bother him that, thus far, not a single person in town had recognised him. For God’s sake - his band had exploded onto the global stage over the last few years, playing more shows than anybody could’ve imagined, yet here he was just ‘the guy with Billie’. Maybe nobody in this town listened to anything but country music he thought a little sourly, then swallowed a laugh at his own hypocrisy. Wasn’t this just why he’d taken off into the blue yonder? To get away from the adulation and the ass-kissing?

Taking the old-fashioned paper sack from Cal with a polite ‘thank you’, Jon followed the girl through the store, passing through a section filled with saddles and bridles and God-only-knew-what-else that Jon didn’t recognise. They emerged into the evening sunlight at the back of the building, where Jon saw Billie’s truck backed up to a loading ramp. One of the staff, a husky young guy in just a pair of jeans, was loading sacks of feed into the pickup, and Jon couldn’t help noticing that every time the guy turned to go back for another sack, his eyes lingered on Billie where she sat perched on the hood of the truck.

“Get everything you needed?” Billie called, and Jon nodded, holding up the sack.

“Yep.” He grinned, then turned to the young girl who was heading back inside. “Thanks, miss.”

“Not a problem.” She smiled and went back inside.

Jon went down the couple of steps to ground level, walking over to the pickup and tossing his new clothes through the open passenger window. Going to the front of the truck, he looked up at Billie, laying his hands lightly on her knees, devilment in his heart, spurred by a hint of jealousy.

“I wanna kiss you.” He purred.

“Do you now? After earlier? When you got…..” She gently rubbed a foot between his legs.

“Oh, yeah. At least this time I just gotta get in the truck. Maybe we can, y’know, pull off the road on the way back to the ranch and……”

“Hey now!” She giggled, her foot still rubbing, then she put her hands on his shoulders. “Help me down?”

Grinning, Jon caught her by the waist and pulled her toward him.

“I bet you didn’t need help to get up there, did you?”

“Nope.” Billie agreed as she landed on her feet in front of him, Jon’s body against her front and the pickup against her back.

“Didn’t think so.” Jon smirked, leaning in, taking it slow to give her the chance to push him back if she didn’t want him to kiss her here in public.

It didn’t seem like she had a problem with it, though, as Billie just tilted her face to him, letting Jon slide his tongue into her mouth, and just as his eyes closed Jon caught a glimpse of the young guy, his face twisting into a scowl when he saw them. Jon drew the kiss out, thoroughly probing Billie’s mouth with his tongue, feeling her pressing toward him, then they parted as they heard an exaggerated cough.

“Uh, sorry, Billie. That’s you all loaded.” Said the young guy, and Billie smiled up at him, no embarrassment in her.

“Thanks, Petey.” She smiled up at Jon. “We can go now.”

“Okay, darlin’.” He stepped back, grinning as Billie’s glance ran down his body. “Not this time.” Jon smirked.

Billie went to the back of the pickup, double-checking that the tailgate was latched securely, then she came back to the driver’s door, climbing in. She drove off with a wave to Petey, bumping over the rough gravel until they reached the road, then accelerating away.

“Are we in a hurry?” Jon asked as the truck picked up speed.

“Kinda.” Billie glanced over at him. “I need to get this feed into the barn, and it’s easier if it’s still light.”

“Oh. I thought you were just tryin’ to scare me.”

“What? You don’t like women drivers?” She teased, quickly checking the road ahead was completely clear before lifting both hands from the wheel, pretending to cover her eyes. “Just cover your eyes like this.”

“Jesus, Billie!” Jon laughed, reaching to grab the wheel, but she had a hand on it again already. “You’re nuts, lady!”

“I know.”

Back at the ranch, she drove right up to the barn, pointing out as they crossed the yard that the coyote carcass was gone. She swung the pickup in a loop then backed right up to the barn door, minimising the carrying distance.

“Feeling energetic?” She asked.

“I guess so.” Jon smiled, getting out of the truck.

The sacks were marked as fifty pounds, and there were thankfully only three of them. Jon boosted Billie up into the truck and she slid the first sack to him, Jon carrying it inside. He came back, pretending his legs were about to give out, and she laughed, giving him a second sack.

“This is slave labor!” He yelled as he headed back into the barn.

Shaking her head, Billie edged the final sack to the edge of the truck bed, balancing it precariously on it’s end before jumping to the ground. With a practised move, she tipped the sack onto her shoulder, holding it in place with one hand on top, one supporting the front end, and she started the walk into the barn.

“Dammit, Billie!” Jon said when he saw her. “That’s too heavy for you!”

“I’m not a delicate little flower, Jon.” Billie said as she walked past him. “In fact, I seem to remember matching you bale for bale when we moved the hay.”

There was a crackle in her voice that said she didn’t like being thought less of, just because she happened to be female, and Jon winced, following her into the barn. She dumped the sack onto the pile, and Jon caught her rubbing her back gently.

“Not a delicate flower, but you’re a stubborn little smartass, aren’t you?” He grinned, leaning on the wall.

“I’m not……..” Billie broke off, the boyish grin on Jon’s face challenging her determination. “I’m not little.”

“Sure you are.” He smirked, walking toward her, wrapping his hands onto her waist. “In fact, you’re so little that I can just pick you up - like this.”

He did, lifting her off her feet, then the grin was back.

“And you’re so hot that I think I wanna just carry you upstairs and lay you down on that pile of hay and fuck you.”

“And if I scream?” Billie asked, lifting her legs to wrap around him.

“I’ll know I’ve done enough.” Jon smirked. “I’ll know I’ve made you cum.”

With Billie’s mouth on his neck, kissing and nibbling, Jon headed to the wooden stairs, his dick growing harder with every step he took.