Little Red’s Riding by Nicole Casey
Wyatt
I tookRuby to a fancy steakhouse in nearby Pinewood. That’s what you do when you want to impress a girl: take her to an expensive restaurant. Plus, for people in Magnolia, going to a restaurant in Pinewood bordered on the exotic. I was feeling quite confident about how the evening would go until, on the ride to Pinewood, Ruby started talking about her recent experiences in New York.
“New York City.” I shook my head. “I’ve heard good things about this steakhouse we’re going to, but I don’t suppose it can compete with anything in New York.”
“It’s not a competition,” she said.
I chuckled. “Easy for you to say.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Well, you always win.”
She chuckled. “Is that what you think?”
I cocked my head to the side and thought it over. Should I tell her about how we used to race?
I decided that if she didn’t ask, I wouldn’t volunteer the information. Best to make a clean break with the past whenever opportunity allowed. Things were off to a good start between us, and I didn’t want to take the chance of her recalling a bad memory of that kid she used to beat back in the day.
“Is that what you want, tonight, Wyatt?”
“What’s that?”
“To win?”
I didn’t answer right away. We had arrived at the restaurant and I pulled into the parking lot. “Speaking of competition,” I said under my breath, as I parked my pickup next to a sleek silver sports car.
We walked up to the entrance arm in arm. “Now that I think about it, Ruby, yes, that’s exactly what I want to do tonight: win.”
“Does that mean you have to beat me?” she asked with a wry smile. “Am I your opponent?”
“It’s too early to tell. I know to win I’m going to have to beat the forces that might try to keep us from having a good time. You can be a part of the team. We can win together.”
I opened the door for her.
“Deal,” she said. “I’m happy to join the winning team.” She looked back at me from over her shoulder. “By the way, Wyatt, I hate to lose.”
Don’t remind me, I thought, but I kept that comment to myself.
* * *
I wouldn’t say that the meal was bad, quite the contrary. But, with the fancy silverware and tablecloths and stuffy waiters, I think we were both out of our element.
“To be honest,” said Ruby after the waiter had cleared our plates, “New York is so expensive, I was always broke. I hardly ever went out to eat. This is quite a treat for me, thank you.”
“You’re welcome. And to be honest, back. I don’t get out to eat much, either, unless it’s at the counter of Maple’s Diner. But that doesn’t count.”
Ruby slammed her fist on the table in mock outrage. “Damn straight that counts! Maple’s has the best apple pie in all of Wyoming, maybe in all of the U.S. of A.”
I put my hands up defensively, open palms out. “Fair point. Fair point.”
The waiter returned with dessert menus.
“Profiteroles,” I said, pensively. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had profiteroles.”
“Sounds good,” said Ruby, putting down her menu. “You’ll give me a bite, won’t you?”
With the look she flashed me then, I would have given her anything she wanted. There was a glint of appetite and desire in her eyes, a desire I knew I could fulfill. I wanted to take her right there and then, knock the glasses off the table, lay her out, and lap her clean like a cat.
My thoughts must have shown, somewhat, on my face, because she said, “Looks like you’re thinking long and hard about it.”
I stifled a grin. I was long and hard, but not doing much thinking about it.
I put down my menu, leaned over the table, and said, “Why don’t we get out of here? We can share an apple pie at Maple’s then maybe take a spin down at the ranch.”
“No way!”
I was taken aback. What did I do? What did I say? What about the vibes she was sending me?
“No way, I’m sharing an apple pie. We’ll have to get two.”
I laughed in relief.
* * *
I had been to Maple’s hundreds of times, but never with a girl—at least not a girl like Ruby. I noticed a few men in the back were checking us out, probably asking themselves what a hot redhead was doing with a stable boy like me. Or what a stable boy like me was doing wearing slacks and a dress-shirt at Maples. Even though I was over-dressed, I didn’t feel the least bit silly about it. I was proud. I put my arm around Ruby as we walked in like it wasn’t our first date but that she was my girl.
Ruby waved to a guy she recognized. I know it was foolish, but I couldn’t help feeling a bit of jealousy.
Don’t start with that, Wyatt. She’s not your property. You don’t possess her.
I felt much better when it was just me and her lying on the hood of my truck gazing at the stars.
“I bet you missed riding when you were in New York. Is that why you came back?”
My question seemed to provoke a lot of emotions in her because she didn’t answer straight away. Instead, she creased her brow and chewed on the inside of her cheek before finally saying, “Actually, I’d quit riding before I left, almost three years ago now. But I left New York because I didn’t belong there. I mean, I had a job and friends, but I don’t know how to explain it, I felt like I wasn’t doing what I wanted to be doing, whatever that is.”
“I think I know what you mean.”
She turned to me. “Are you doing what you want to be doing, Wyatt?”
I took her hand in mine and smiled. “I’m gazing at the stars with you. Can’t think of anything I’d want to be doing more than that.”
She smiled back.
“Well,” I added, “maybe I could think of more I’d want to be doing.”
She pulled herself close to me. “Like what?” she said suggestively, her lips only inches away, and her words fell on my cheek in warm tickling breaths.
A cowboy knows many words, but I didn’t use any of them to answer. Instead, I cupped her cheek in my hand and brought my mouth to hers. My lips closed around her lips. I extended my tongue and felt her quiver at its touch.
I put my arm around her and pulled her closer to me, lifting her and resting her body against mine. Her legs weaved in between mine; her thigh pressed against my stiffening cock. I ran a hand down her back to her ass and squeezed it. Her crotch pressed against my hip and she moved slowly against it, imitating the gyrations of our exploring tongues.
I so needed to unbutton my pants, free my hard cock from the confines of my pants. She must have felt my need, too, as she ran her fingers down my chest, over my abs, and seized my pants by their pleats.
I spread my legs a little and pulled my head back to suck in a breath. “God, your body feels so good against mine.”
She kissed me on the cheek and unbuttoned my pants while I slid two fingers between her legs and rubbed the contours of her sex.
A round of boisterous laughter cut through the still night. Ruby jumped up and looked in the direction of the interruption. I propped myself up on my elbow and did the same.
“What was that?” asked Ruby.
I recognized Teddy’s deep hearty laugh. The others I couldn’t place but assumed he was with Grayson and Samuel as per usual. They were out of sight, but not far.
“Are we being watched?” she asked as she hopped off the truck and peered in the darkness for a better look.
“Sounds like Teddy and the boys,” I said. I adjusted my not-yet-freed erection and hopped off the truck.
“Are they friends of yours? I hear a guitar.”
I put my arm around her and kissed her on the cheek. The moment was gone. The desire that had been mounting was instantly replaced with a wariness of the unseen voice and curiosity. “Come on,” I said, and I took her hand. “I’ll introduce you.”
We intercepted them as they came around the trailers on their way to the newly erected grandstands. “‘evening boys,” I said.
In unison, they let out a cry of surprise and jumped back.
We laughed.
“Damn,” said Teddy, “don’t be sneaking up on us like that.” Teddy had a guitar in hand while both Grayson and Samuel carried a case of beer each.
“Ruby, this old-timer here is Teddy. He’s a brave man, who is easy to startle.”
“Hello, Teddy.”
“And this young un here’s, Samuel.”
“Hi, Samuel.”
“And the Benjamin of the bunch, we call him Grayson.”
“That’s my name.”
“Hi, Grayson.”
Samuel lifted his case of beer. “Care to join us?”
I glanced at Ruby. Before I could say anything, she answered. “Sure.”
The grandstand smelled of freshly trimmed lumber. I took in a long whiff. “Smell that,” I said. “That’s the calm before the storm before these grandstands are filled with people, stomping muddy boots and spilling beer.”
“Speaking of beer,” said Grayson, and he set down his case, opened it, and passed us each a can.
“You’ve heard of corrupting a minor,” Samuel said to Ruby and he pointed to Grayson. “This is a corrupting minor.”
“I’m hardly a minor,” said Grayson. “Nineteen already. Turn twenty in four months.”
“You don’t look a day over eighteen,” said Samuel.
“Eighteen months,” retorted Teddy.
Grayson would always be the young one, no matter his age. There was a Cherubin quality to him in his fleshed-out cheeks, dusty blond hair, and blue eyes. Plus, while Samuel was only four years older than him, his towering stature and dark skin, deep-set eyes gave him an air of wisdom and experience, inadvertently playing into the stereotype of the wise Native chief. Add to that the fact that Teddy was near twice his age, Grayson would always be ‘the young one’, not that he was going out of his way to disprove the image with mature or responsible behavior. If he was going to be seen as a child, might as well be a reckless one.
Teddy had at least a dozen years on all of us, and he happily took on the role of the older brother. And his history with Wolf, the details of which were never fully explained to me, made him a sort of buffer between us and our overbearing boss. Technically, Teddy was our supervisor, but what he mostly supervised was us drinking after work. And of course, after a few cold ones, he’d lead us in song with his guitar.
“Do you sing, Ruby?” Teddy asked as he tuned up his instrument.
“Oh, no.” Ruby put a hand up defensively and shook her head. “I couldn’t carry a tune if my life depended on it.”
“Good,” said Teddy. “You’ll fit right in.” With that, he started in on an old Johnny Cash classic. Samuel and Grayson joined in on the refrain, though not necessarily with the same words. I hadn’t had enough to drink yet to sing with them and Ruby said she didn’t know the words.
“Don’t let that stop you,” said Teddy. He started in on another Johnny Cash hit, but before he even got through the intro, Wolf came and spoiled the fun.
“What in damnation’s going on here!?”
“That’s not damnation,” said Teddy, already slightly drunk, “that’s Grayson and Samuel singing.”
“And you!” Wolf pointed an accusatory finger at Ruby. I could tell from the red gloss over his eyes that he’d been drinking. The finger he pointed at her wasn’t steady, either. It wavered and swayed, a bit like Wolf himself who had to hold on to the railing with his other hand lest he fall off the bleachers. “What did I tell you ‘bout coming round here?”
“She’s with me, Wolf,” I said. Those words sounded great to my ears; they sounded right: ‘She’s with me.’
His finger moved off of Ruby and he aimed it at me. “Fraternizing with the enemy!”
I chuckled. I indeed used to think of Ruby as ‘the enemy’ back in my racing days. But I knew Wolf meant it in a whole new way.
“She’s using you, you know?” said Wolf. “She’s in cahoots with the mayor. They’s lookin’ to stir up muck on us, get us shut down.”
“That’s not at all true,” said Ruby. “I’m not my grandmother. I make my own decisions.”
Grayson, Samuel, and I all looked at each other wide-eyed. It was surprising, and nice, to hear someone stand up to Wolf. That’s something we didn’t get to see much of unless it was Teddy. But when Teddy would stand up to Wolf it was usually with a witty quip to get Wolf to back away. But Ruby stood firm and called him out on his bullshit to his face.
Wolf, not used to someone talking back to him, was a bit flummoxed. He huffed and puffed and scowled then, finding no reply to her, he turned his ire on me. “You brought her here! This is your fault. If she’s not out of here immediately, I’ll fire the lot of you!”
I didn’t believe he’d fire us. Samuel was a crowd favorite—especially with the ladies. And Grayson, despite constantly cracking jokes (or perhaps thanks to it), was a hard worker. But Wolf looked drunk enough to do something he’d regret so I didn’t push him on his bluff. I turned to Ruby. “Come on, Ruby. I’ll drive you home.”
“You’re not going anywhere,” Wolf howled.
“What? But…”
“She’s got two legs, ain’t she?” said Wolf. “She can walk. You,” he pointed a shaky finger at me again, “you’re on muck out duty. That ought to teach you. I want all them stalls mucked out tonight.”
“Tonight?” I protested.
“Or you can go back to Magnolia Stables,” he said with a smirk. “Oh, I guess you can’t. Magnolia Stables don’t train horses no more.” He raised his voice. “So I guess you better get mucking!”
I might have decked him, knocked him right off the grandstands and onto his mean drunk ass. But Grayson stepped between us just as I’d clenched my hand into a fist and started for him.
Grayson put a hand on my chest and stopped my momentum. “We can take her home,” said Grayson nodding over to Samuel. Then he leaned in and whispered in my ear. “Live to fight another day, right? He’ll get his, don’t worry.”
Grayson was right—wise beyond his years—and cooler heads prevailed.
I realized, as Ruby and I made our quick goodbyes that, though our first date hadn’t ended the way I had imagined, the fact that mean old Wolf had come and broken us up, that added a certain forbidden and dangerous quality to our courtship. I felt it, and it felt good, exciting. And I thought I saw a similar recognition in her eyes when she turned to blow me a kiss as Grayson, with Samuel in tow, was leading her to his truck.
