Page 22 of Honoring Freedom
“Yeah, I remember. Are they always this…”
“Lively?”
“Probably not the word I’d use.” He noticed one of the ladies had hauled herself up on the bar to dance while a group of men watched, urging her on with their hoots and hollers.
“They tend to unwind and get carried away. They’re harmless though. At least most of them.” She laid her hand against his chest.
The song ended and another slow one started. Neither made a move to step off the floor. “I can’t see Vanhoose hobnobbing among this crowd. I’ve never seen so many pretentious wannabes in my life. And they look at you like you’re whipped topping on top of their pie of life.”
“What has come over you?” She searched his face for an answer.
“Do you really need me to answer that?”
Her gaze softened. “What were you drinking? A truth serum?”
“Why don’t we go back to the cabin and we’ll talk about this subject in great lengths.”
She took a step back. “Let me run to the restroom. I’m ready to get out of these boots.”
“Meet you at the bar,” he said and watched her weave her way through the crowd making her way toward the hallway.
Keller headed for the bar. The seats were taken so he took a spot at the end, near the group of men that had seemed to be watching Freedom. Their circle reeked of alcohol and bawdy laughter. One of them acknowledged Keller with a curt nod then went back to talking about the thoroughbred he just purchased. Feisty Homer. Keller recognized the horse’s name and had a feeling the cowboy had no clue that the horse’s health had been compromised by excessive inbreeding. That was a known issue with the breeder.
Keller rested his case. These men didn’t do their research and came to the auction just to toss money around.
He ordered a bourbon.
“She’s a fucking gem,” one of them said loud enough that Keller couldn’t help but hear.
“She’s not the hot Rose sister though,” another of the men said.
“Who are you fucking kidding? I’d sink my dick so deep between those thighs the tip would come out her mouth,” another added which caused an uproar of laughter among his buddies.
Instantly, Keller’s instincts were on high alert. The men’s crude conversation was demeaning to women, all women, but knowing they were talking about Freedom made his gut churn. He squeezed his glass until he thought it might break under his grip. Although Keller had no clue who the men were, they had to know who Keller was. He and Freedom had been the talk of the auction.
Get ahold of yourself.He didn’t care about the other men in the place who wanted her or looked at her. No one would ever appreciate her up close and personally like Keller did. They wouldn’t caress her body and her firm breasts. Squeeze her ample thighs. No one would ever watch her expression as she reached the pinnacle. To Keller, Freedom was a queen and he wanted to treat her as such. She deserved a cowboy who saw her worth and stepped up every day to show her how much he cared.
Let the men ramble.
Jackasses.
“Good luck, Harv. We all know she’d never look twice at you.” This comment caused the men to dissolve into more laughter.
“I’d fuck her, but I’d never marry a woman like her. They’re tainted. Anyone with Rose for a last name. Bossy women who don’t know their places. They all walk around like they’re too good for us, but they fuck ranch hands like a whore with missing front teeth.”
“Kent, you’ve sampled a Rose. Does it have a thorn?”
Keller glared in the direction of the five men. Which one was Kent? The tallest man among the group, the one who hadn’t said a word until then, gave a casual shrug. “It bites,” he said in a low tone.
A real ladies man alright. Keller thought as he shook his head.
“But imagine the fun.” A short stocky man with pockmarked skin licked his lips. “Thorns and all.”
“Houser, you wouldn’t know what to do with pussy that good if it crawled onto your face and meowed at you,” another jeered.
“Fuck you!” The man called Houser groaned and turned so red that the pits in his face looked like puddles of lava.
Keller’s patience thinned. He realized starting a scene wouldn’t go over well with Freedom or Sam. Keller reminded himself that he’d been around a lot of big talkers who wanted to flex in front of their buddies. The liquid courage didn’t help.