Cowgirl Up

Chapter 1- Jake

The warm Colorado springtime sun beat down on my face and bare chest. It was incredibly warm for April, almost 70 degrees, so I’d taken my shirt off to do my chores. I was leaning back with my face lifted to the sky when I felt movement below me. I opened my eyes and looked down to see that my beautiful paint, Bella, was getting antsy. I leaned down and her warm brown hair felt good on my skin. “Easy girl,” I whispered, and Bella calmed down. I’d had Bella since I was five, when my dad bought her to mate with our stallion Rock. She was just a young filly then and our Mexican farmhand Dante called her “Bella caballo.” The words sounded so exotic and beautiful to me that they stuck in my head and I said it every time I saw her. Bella was a beautiful girl with a brown coat and white patches running up her ankles and over her back. When I was seven, I started taking care of her, and my dad said she could be mine. Bella is my best friend.

She whinnied softly back at me, and threw her head a little. I chuckled. “Okay girl, we can go.” I took one more look at the fence post I’d come out to repair, and turned Bella back toward home. I raced into the gravel path that lead to the barn and put Bella up for the night, removing all her gear, brushing her down, and getting her food and water. As Bella noisily chomped down on her oats, along with the other horses in our barn, I got a glance at the clock on the wall. It was already five, and Mom would kill me when I came in. I was supposed to be done with the fence an hour ago, and I hadn’t taken my cell phone with me so she was probably going frantic about where I was. I untied my plaid short-sleeve shirt from the horn on Bella’s saddle and bounded inside. I would’ve tried to be quiet, but my boots were just too noisy and gave me away the second I reached the porch of our ranch house.

“JACKSON MICHAEL MCCOY!” Mom’s screams wafted through the open windows like the smell of her pot roast. I winced. I was in for it. I opened the front door and noticed my two brothers, Andrew and Gabe, witting on the couch playing Call of Duty. They’d paused it and were turned around on the couch, not wanting to miss a second of my getting my ass chewed out. I quickly threw my shirt on, not buttoning it, and walked into the kitchen. “Hey Momma,” I said with my head hung. I tried not to make eye contact with her. “Don’t you ‘Hey Momma’ me, young man!” Mom was standing next to the kitchen sink chopping carrots. My mouth watered at the smell of everything she was making and I could hardly focus on her punishing me. “You are an hour late Jake and you didn’t even call me! I don’t know where you’ve been and your phone is in your room and I simply cannot believe that you did this.” Mom had turned around now and she was waving the giant knife in my direction. “Yes, ma’am,” I said while nodding. I looked up at Mom with what I hoped were still my puppy dog eyes. It’d worked when I was younger and I SWEAR I only use them when I’m really in trouble and I’m genuinely sorry. Mom’s stiff shoulders relaxed and she softened and sighed. She set the knife down. “Well, alright then,” she said, her country accent just thick enough to sound beautiful, “Come give your momma a kiss.” I smiled and walked into her arms, and gave her a quick peck on her cheek. After a second, she pushed me away and waved the kitchen towel at me. “You reek! Go take a shower before dinner.” I walked out of the kitchen and past the living room to the stairs. Andrew and Gabe were just staring at me, wide eyed. I smirked and took the stairs two at a time to my bedroom.

Showering felt so good. I hadn’t realized how sweaty and gross I’d gotten. Sure, I’m a guy and I like being dirty sometimes. But what gets me is when the sweat dries, and the dirt starts to itch and flake off. That’s when I become a girly-man and take long showers. I sighed at that thought. No one knew that about me, that sometimes I have a strong feminine side. I love baking almost as much as I love football. I like chick flicks and candles in my room and, although no one in the entire world but my mother will know this, I’m addicted to Pretty Little Liars. I mean, Aria is just so damn gorgeous and every time you think you got it all figured out, they just throw another twist in your face. I felt a pang in my chest and I got a little nauseous. I thought about her. I missed her, more than anything. I missed her laugh, her smile, the way her hair flew behind her when we’d race across the meadows. I turned off the shower quickly and convinced myself it was just water on my cheeks.