Montana Nights

Chapter 6 : Bunkhouse Stampede

Ethan

Finally, I'm talking to Mila…and it's been three whole minutes since the last time I stuck my foot in my mouth.

Her dark eyes and dazzling smile insinuated their way into my heart. I felt lighter than air.

“So, I can cook all of these greens at the same time?"

I lifted the bunch of rainbow chard for emphasis.

“Yeah, totally. Though, I'd be careful with the mustard greens, unless you just like a lot of spice. And I'm not much for collard greens in the mix. They tend to overwhelm the flavor of everything else in the dish. Use those sparingly."

I took mental notes, putting the mustard greens in my cart and the collard greens back on the shelf.

“I'm surprised to see a young man with so many green, healthy choices in his cart."

She's still talking to me. I've got to think of something witty to say to impress her. .

“I try to be nutritious in my food choices. The place where I'm staying now, it's like steak and potatoes every night."

I expected her to ask where I was living, but she didn't. I didn't want the conversation to end, so I came up with something else.

“Ah, so what is there to do for fun here in Snowy Grove? Life seems a little slow."

She c****d an eyebrow. A fierce light bloomed in her eyes.

“Well, we may not have some big-city nightclub or theme park, but there's plenty to do that's fun. There's the river and the lake. Plenty of swimming and fishing. Not to mention the rodeo circuit runs through here, and there's the apple pie social…there's lots going on here if you know where to look."

I felt a smile spread across my face. She smiled back. I worked on the courage to ask if she wanted to do something fun with me.

“So, ah, you know, those kinds of activities, they're best enjoyed with company."

“Yes, they certainly are."

Her smile faded a bit, replaced by confusion. Panic flooded my mind.

What did I do wrong? I thought things were going well?

Mist spurted from the produce section's sprinkler system. A constant deluge soon replaced the first, fitful sprays. Mila and I both retreated under the onslaught. “That was exciting."

She blinked at me, eyes pinched, as if the mere sight of me brought her some undefined pain. New thoughts failed me. The sprinklers had chilled whatever spell had enraptured us in each other's company.

A perfunctory smile replaced the pinched look of pain upon Mila's face. My internal organs sank a little. My smile faded and my gaze fell to the floor. I stood straighter, leaning away from where Mila stood.

She placed her hand upon my arm and spoke in a voice which threatened to crack my heart.

“It's fine, Dr. Ethan. I should probably get going anyway. I have an early day tomorrow."

“Yeah. Me, too."

Think of something to say, Ethan. Something that makes you look cool, or at least like someone she wants to talk to again.

“I guess I'll see you tomorrow at the clinic,"

Lame.

“Yeah, I'll see you then."

She prepared to push her cart along, but glanced back over her bubble-coated shoulder. She smiled and her gaze locked with my own.

“It was nice talking to you, Ethan."

“Thanks."

I winced as she disappeared around the international food aisle.

Thanks? What the Hell kind of reply is that? Damn it, I can discuss the nuances of bovine pathology for hours, but I can't talk to a pretty girl for five minutes without sounding like an ass.

I put some greens in my basket and walked out of the produce section, still lost in my thoughts.

It's probably for the best. After all, Mila and I work together at the clinic. I shouldn't be dating a vet tech at my first job out of college, as in ever.

I checked out at the register, keeping an eye out for Mila.

Just in case…

Though I wanted nothing more than to speak to her again, desperately wanting to leave our chance encounter on a better line.

I loaded my purchases into my Tahoe and drove back to the Carrington Ranch. I pushed in the ancient, battered wooden door. Laughter emanated from the nearby sunken den. The sharp crack of billiard balls colliding with each other mingled with Lucas, Chase, and Oliver's voices.

Sounds like they're having a blast, but I should look for a place to live.

I headed into the kitchen and turned on a light, then picked up the local newspaper and flipped it back to the housing section.

I got so involved in my housing hunt, I didn't hear the sound of cowboy boots in the hallway until it was too late. I should have taken the paper back to the guest house where Oliver and I were staying, if I'd wanted privacy. I glanced up as Chase entered the kitchen, a wide grin hanging on his face.

“Hey, hey, it's Doctor Doolittle."

I smiled weakly at the joke. He told the same joke every single time he saw me, no matter how dead it should have been.

“What are you doing?"

He pawed at the paper in my hand until I gave it up.

“Looking for a new place? With a newspaper?"

His incredulity gave way to laughter.

“Use the internet like a normal fuckwit."

“Yes, I'm trying to look for a place, and a lot of folks in Snowy Grove still put real estate ads in the paper."

“Oh, f**k that noise. You're coming out drinking with us."

“I have an early day tomorrow, Chase. I don't think I can come with you."

“Aw come on, did you grow a v****a while you were in college? Or are you just too good to drink with us stupid folks what don't have no college degree."

How am I supposed to answer that? I mean, where would I even start…

“Come on, Chase. Give me a break."

“No, you come on. Just sit down and have a beer or two and then we'll take you home."

I reluctantly agreed. Chase practically shoved me out the door into the driveway. I found Lucas outside, cowboy hat firmly fixed to his head. He swung open the driver's side door to his monstrous pickup.

“Oh hey, Ethan, are you coming out with us?"

“Yeah, looks that way."

I laughed, glad to be out with my friends.

“Yeah, embrace the adventure, my friend."

Lucas grinned as he spoke.

“Don't run away from it."

Oliver came out to join us shortly.

“What took you so long?"

“I had to kennel Dottie, Chase. She's just a puppy and I don't want her getting hurt while I'm gone."

We rolled down the paved road until we reached the highway.

Big Ron's Place, the local watering hole, came into view. The parking lot looked jam packed. Inside, the music blared. People shouted to be heard over the din. Violently tossed beer bottles clinked and clanked into a big, blue, plastic bin near the dance floor.

Regardless of their earlier assurances, two beers had flowed down each of their throats, yet Chase ordered another round. I nursed the same bottle of Guiness the entire time, not wanting to get sloppy drunk when I had work the next day..

After about four beers, Chase stood. A little wobbly, he announced-

“I gotta take a piss. You know, drain the snake?."

Lukas narrowed his gaze.

“All right, but don't start no s**t. You hear me?"

“I hear you, I hear you. Sheesh."

We watched him wobble off..

“When is he going to grow up?"

“Never."

Lukas chuckled. I decided to try to change the subject.

“How's 1604 doing?"

Lucas waved away my veterinary concerns.

“She's doing fine, Doc. Now chill and order a shot or something. Try to relax."

“Well, Lucas, I'd feel a bit more comfortable, had I spent the evening finding a new place to live. Bars aren't really my thing."

Lucas clasped his hand on my shoulder with the force of a drunk friend.

“Ethan, man, Doc, how long have we been friends? What's the rush? Something wrong with the guest house? You need a new mattress or something?"

“No, nothing like that. The guest house is more than I could've asked for. I just hate to take advantage of your hospitality, is all. You have already been plenty good to me. Moving off your proverbial couch is the least I can do."

Oliver tapped Lukas on the shoulder.

“What's up, Tiny?"

“Um, don't look now, but your kid brother is hitting on a bronc rider's girl."

“Oh, s**t. Which one?"

“I don't know her name. The redhead."

“I mean the Bronc rider. Which bronc rider?"

“Sid."

Lukas turned pale and downed the rest of his beer.

“Bronc riders are the most obnoxious jerks you're likely to meet in a bar. I have to go drag my brother away, before he gets himself killed."

Sid stood head and shoulders above his bronc-rider ilk. Both figuratively and literally. His eyes were on level with mine, which meant he had to be around six foot four.

Lucas sidled and squirmed and shoved, but he couldn't make it through the crowded bar before disaster struck. Sid brought his curly head of blond locks and his curlier sneer right up in Chase's face.

Chase put his hand on Sid's chest in a sort of companionable pat. Given the younger Carrington brother's level of inebriation, the pat came across as more of a shove.

Shit, meet fan.

Sid swung his right fist at Chase, directly to the temple. Sid's fist connected, spinning Chase on his booted heel. Lucas' no-good brother crumpled to the floor.

Lucas threw a barstool, catching Sid in the face. The entire bar erupted into chaos. Every man, and quite a few of the women, brawled in a cacophonic swirl of violence.

I stepped out as fast as I could.

No, Sir! I do not need that trouble. Am I supposed to suture a wound with a busted knuckle? I think not. The company that insured my hands would double my rate!

I knew I had made the right decision when the Sheriff's boys came tearing into the parking lot, lights flashing.

“Well, there goes my ride home."