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Story: Roughing It with the Rancher
REESE
After staking the Cadillac in front of the Heirloom Rose’s doors until the cashier rushes out with my winnings in conspicuous bags, I head straight for the bank. Holding the money like this has my stress levels through the roof. Of course, a night without sleep, a new wife who hates me, and a car I hate back aren’t helping a thing.
And with my luck, God only knows what could get in the way of me settling my debts. Esmeralda accompanies me inside, carrying one of the bags and frowning. I can tell she’s torn about me dumping every bit of the winnings into the ranch. But I’m out of options.
After the bank visit, Esmeralda and I shuttle down Route 14, love music blaring.
“You won’t believe this,” the blonde says, playing with the dial.
‘Try me.”
“This is the only station we can get.” To prove it, she cycles through static with the occasional distant signal and garbled vocals.
“All we can get is the AM stations, huh? Spose that’s because this sucker came with the original radio. Now, isn’t that something?”
“And apparently, it’s down to this one stupid love song station.Thisis ridiculous.”
I chuckle. “It is fitting for newlyweds, you know.”
“Okay,” Esmeralda says, laying her Okie accent on thick. “I think you’re taking this whole fake marriage thing a little too seriously.”
“You can never take marriage too seriously, Treasure, especially if we’re aiming for that coveted silver anniversary.”
“You’re incorrigible.”
I chuckle darkly. “You have no idea.”
She crosses her arms, her face sullen.
“Wonder if we can get episodes of Coast to Coast AM on this thing? Remember George Noory? Try five-seventy.”
“I have no idea who you’re talking about,” she says as she dials through the static, stopping at the apparently nonexistent station. At least on this radio.
“That’s a shame,” I counter. “Because he’s your kind of guy, tin-foil-hat-wearing and the whole nine yards.”
“I am not a conspiracy theorist,” she retorts, raising her lovely fine-boned chin in protest. If she really knew how she makes my insides simmer and my heart think extravagant, romantic things … I would love to share these sentiments, but something tells me they wouldn’t go over so well in her current state. I hope there’ll come a time in the near future when she’s more receptive to tender overtures.
It’s just like me, on top of everything else, to fall hard for a woman who doesn’t want me. Grandma always says bad luck has a way of following me. Needing a change of conversation and mental chatter, I side-eye her, remarking, “I thought you’dbe a whole lot more excited for a woman about to reach the destination she’s driven all the way from Oklahoma for.”
“Iamexcited,” she counters, eyeing me with a pout.
“Could’ve fooled me. You’ve been downright morose ever since the wedding. It could hurt a cowboy’s heart if I didn’t have such a thick skin.”
She studies me suspiciously, her eyes narrowing. Like she’s trying to figure out what game I’m playing. If only she knew the feelings I keep hinting at aren’t fake or ulterior at all. “I don’t want to hurt your feelings,” she says quickly. “My mind’s just ruminating on the treasure. And today … which is a lot to sort out no matter how you put it.”
“Don’t I know it,” I agree. “But we maybe ought to count our blessings a little, too. At least, that’s what my grandma would suggest.”
Esmeralda shifts in her seat. “Does your grandmother live around here?”
“My no. She’s wiling away her golden years on the beaches of a planned community and golf course along Florida’s Emerald Coast.”
“Smart woman,” my angel remarks, her eyes gazing off into the expansive nothing of the Great Basin.
“Most people would prefer Florida over this,” I agree. “Although I’ve spent my whole life in Nevada, so it feels right to me. Do you want to know what the secret is for falling in love with the Silver State?”
“Sure,” she says, quirking her tantalizing cherry-stained lips.
“If you can fall in love with skies that stretch forever and big, rugged mountain ranges that do the same, then Nevada will beguile you.”
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