Page 11 of Revelry (Cowgirls Do It Better #2)

“Well, technically it’s for me too,” she continued, like I hadn’t spoken. “I’ve had kind of a rough afternoon and would love some company and I can’t ask—”

I whirled on her, not realizing how close she was behind me. “We’re not friends, Gertrude. Leave me alone!”

Her blue eyes widened and this close I could spot the tiny flecks of purple. She clamped her lip between her teeth. My stupid eyes dropped down to watch her maul her pink lip, trying to stop it from wobbling.

“Not everything is about you, Tate.” She shoved the box at me and I grabbed it to stop it from falling.

Then she pushed past me, checking me with her shoulder which given our height difference, hit me in the gut.

Her front door slammed and it was about then that the guilt hit me in the stomach right where her shoulder just had.

I stomped up the path and pounded on her door. “Gertrude, sorry. I’m an asshole!”

“Yes, you are, asshole !” she shouted back, muffled through the frosted glass paned door, right before she stuck her hand against it and showed me one finger in particular. I would have laughed at her sass, if I didn’t feel so shitty.

“Open the door, Gertrude.”

Nothing. I waited a little while longer until her form disappeared. Then I heard music blaring loudly and realized she wasn’t going to give me the time of day. I deserved that.

I left her stoop and crossed the shrubbery separating our footpaths and went inside my house. My quiet, barren house, which normally felt like a sanctuary, but after my encounter with Gertrude, was too quiet. I placed the Tupperware on the kitchen counter and stared at it.

The woman had made me something. She’d taken time out from her life to create something for me, something she thought I would like.

No one ever did things for me.

A weird feeling twisted my gut and made me hum. I cursed and peeked inside the container and immediately the mouthwatering scent of strawberries hit me.

“Oh dang,” I moaned, tearing the lid fully off and seeing the pink, smooth, frozen treat inside. I swiped a finger through the ice cream, digging deep as it had set well and put it into my mouth.

“Holy shit.” It was perfection; sweet, creamy and a little tart.

Just like Gertrude .

Grabbing a spoon from the drawer, I slumped to the floor, one leg cocked and the tub resting on my knee as I dug into it.

I devoured the tub, not pausing even when I got a little brain freeze.

The cream melted on my tongue and the cheeky ice cream-making-minx had hidden chunks of strawberries coated in dark chocolate in the mixture. I stumbled across one every now and then and crunched through it with immense satisfaction. It’s like she knew exactly what to make, just for me.

I sat on the floor, my back to the cabinets and ate every last mouthful and then I noticed her music next door had stopped.

My meal plan for the evening had gone out the window now that I’d eaten the whole tub.

I wasn’t hungry enough for dinner but the thought of breaking my routine didn’t bother me as much as I imagined it would.

Maybe because the ice cream was so damn satisfying and I just wanted more.

The sun had set and a chill swept in, so I pulled myself off the cool kitchen tiles, my back cracking as I did. I rinsed the tub and set it on the drainer to dry before I changed into some comfy sweats.

I was closing the drapes later that evening when something out the window caught my eye. It was dark outside so I couldn’t be sure what I saw but it was a flash of something silvery white. I squinted out and saw the flash once more.

“Shit, not again.”

I ran downstairs and outside right to the back of the yard then climbed the fence, jumping into Gertrude’s yard. I stood at the bottom of the old fir tree and peered up, just able to see her in the moonlight.

“Gertrude, what in the hell are you doing?”

“Knitting a frucking sssweater!” she slurred back.

“Are you drunk?”

“ Are you drunk ?” she mimicked, her voice so ridiculously deep that I knew I couldn’t possibly sound like that.

I pinched the bridge of my nose moaning about damn foolish women. “Get down here before you hurt yourself!”

“No!” came the shouted reply. A branch snapped and there was a kerfuffle.

“Gertrude?” I shouted. “Get down, you’re drunk and why the hell are you climbing a tree at,” I paused to look at my watch. “Midnight?”

“Because I can. It’s fun you ssshould try it sometime!”

There was another snap and a grunt from up above me and my temper was hanging by a thread. She could fall and break her neck and what was she even wearing? I could see her bare legs; she must be getting scratched to hell.

“Come down, Gertrude.”

“Come and get me! Have some fun for once in your life!” she shouted back. I heard her add, “You never know, you might dislodge the stick in your ass.”

There was another snap and a branch crashed down in front of me.

Her squeal had me racing to the bottom of the trunk.

“Goddamn it!” I shouted, shoving aside my fear of heights and climbing the tree after this woman, for the second time in my life.

I found a foothold and hefted myself up, my adrenaline surging and pushing me on.

Every time I got near her, she shimmied higher. “Damn it, Gertrude. Stop moving.”

“Shush,” she hissed. Her leg dangled in front of my face.

I grabbed it. “Ha, gotcha!”

“Don’t, you’re tickling my foot! Let me go or I’ll kick you!”

“You’re infuriating!” I shouted back.

“We’re almost there,” she called down, sounding slightly less drunk.

“Gertrude, I don’t like this. I can’t see the ground,” I called, scanning the darkness.

“I know, isn’t that amazing!”

I fought an eyeroll at her enthusiasm. Why was she such a daredevil?

I heard some more movement, then a thud and a deep sigh.

I shimmied higher, my hands stinging from the rough bark.

I spotted her sitting out on a thick branch.

She patted the spot next to her, and I heaved myself over and joined her, clinging on for dear life.

“Isn’t that a beautiful view?” she sighed.

I followed her stare. There were fewer branches now and you could see the stars through them, the moon hovering and lighting up the world. I finally managed to catch my breath and began to have a mild panic attack about being so high.

“Breathe,” Gertrude whispered, placing a hand on my thigh.

“I haven’t done this for a long time,” I rushed out.

“I know,” she whispered. “Doesn’t it feel incredible?”

I analyzed all the crazy thoughts running through my brain, the adrenaline surging in my veins and the high that was buzzing along right behind it. I hated to admit it, but she was right.

I looked over and found her smiling at me but there was a tightness to her smile, it wasn’t as wide as normal. I remembered what she’d said earlier.

“Not everything is about me,” I said, flexing my grip on the tree trunk.

“No, it’s not.”

“So what’s got you drinking and climbing trees again?”

She winked at me, a little sloppy but kinda adorable. “Fun.”

“Other than fun?”

She looked away, picking at the bark beside her, swinging her legs in a way that gave me heart palpitations and had the branch creaking. “My divorce came through today.”

Ah. “Is it congratulations or commiserations?”

She shrugged. “Both?”

“I would say, judging by the condition you turned up at Redemption in, it’s congratulations.” My pulse pounded at the reminder of her bruised face, and I clenched my fists tight, pulling a deep breath in through my nose.

“Congratulations for sure. But it’s a shit feeling when you fail.”

I nudged her gently. “You haven’t failed, sugar. You got out of a bad situation, that’s never a failing.”

She turned those indigo eyes on me, even in the dull light they sparkled brighter than the stars. “But I have nothing. No house, no job, nothing.”

“You can start again. Maybe give tree climbing lessons?”

She snorted and hiccupped. “Did you just make a joke?”

I shrugged one shoulder. “Maybe.”

“I didn’t think you had it in you.” She nudged me. I teetered forward and I swear I saw my life flash before my eyes.

“Uh, do you think we could have this conversation on solid ground?”

She clicked her tongue. “Too much fun for one day?”

“Too much fun for a hundred days,” I replied.

“In a minute, I wanna watch the stars some more.” She leaned her head against my shoulder, her corkscrew black curls spreading over my chest and the berries and cream scent snaked into my nostrils.

My eyes slid closed, my heart pounding and I almost started salivating.

It was only then that I realized her hand had been on my thigh the entire time.

We sat in silence, some crickets chirped lower down. The branches rustled in the breeze and after a moment I heard a light snoring.

“Are you sleeping right now?” I asked, horrified that she could fall asleep in such a terrifying and precarious position.

“Wha—huh?” she snorted.

“Okay, enough revelry for one day,” I grumbled and shimmied over towards the thick trunk to begin a descent that terrified me.

“You’re so touchy. I only had a little nap-nap. I woulda been fine.”

“Sure you would,” I scoffed.

We both began to climb down and it was going fine, I was only mildly panicking but we were nearly done, just a few branches to go, when I heard a loud crack and she screamed.

“Gertrude!”

“Owie, owie, owie!” she shouted.

“Gertrude, talk to me?”

“I hurt my foot. I can feel it bleeding, I don’t think I can use it,” she moaned.

“Okay, can you get to me?” She was on the opposite side of the trunk and I heard her moving.

“I think so,” she grunted.

“Climb on my back, wrap your legs around my waist.” I felt her tiny hands dig into my shoulders and her legs clamped around my waist but dangled low over my crotch.

“I’m too heavy,” she complained.

I almost laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m slipping, I can’t get a good grip!” she cried, right in my ear and I could feel her sliding down me.