Stockton County Cowboys Book 1: Chasing Cowboys by R.W. Clinger

Author:R.W. Clinger [Clinger, R.W.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2013-08-15T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12: The Buckle Room

Cord’s Kitchen

Arched Q Ranch

8:42 A.M.

“I’m Francisco Maza,” a man behind me said, startling me.

I was looking for something to eat, since my stomach was grumbling. Of course it wasn’t my kitchen, but I felt Cord wouldn’t mind my hunting around for some food. I’d just peeled a banana from the basket of fruit on the quartz countertop. I’d just bitten into it when Francisco introduced himself, making me jump and turn around. He was nearly six feet tall with olive skin, a coal-black goatee, and moss-green eyes. He was definitely attractive, looking a little like Ryan Gosling.

“You must be Mr. Hull from the Gulf.”

“That be me,” I said, around my mouthful of banana. I stuck out my hand and we shook.

“Mr. Darringer has told me all about you.”

“I hope everything he said was good.”

“Of course it was, Mr. Hull. My boss adores you, and he’ll be thrilled to know you’re here, even if it’s unexpected.” He came over and grabbed a coffee mug from the cabinet just behind me. He filled it from an urn on the counter and took a sip, and then said, “May I be frank, sir?”

“Of course, Mr. Maza. I’m always up for honesty. What reasonable man isn’t?” In truth, I had no idea what he was about to say. Perhaps he felt negative about my unannounced travels to the Arched Q Ranch. Did he want me to go back to Florida without seeing Cord for some reason? Was he about to share a red flag regarding Cord’s affection for me, saving me from an embarrassing moment when the businessman finally arrived and told me I was crazy for coming all the way out here to see him?

Francisco looked me in the eye, smiled, and said, “I believe that Mr. Darringer is in more than in like with you, sir.”

I was completely caught off guard. I asked, “What exactly are you saying, Mr. Maza?”

“Francisco,” he corrected me. “Please call me Francisco.”

“Yes, of course. I’m Bradley,” I replied, eager to hear his answer.

“Mr. Darringer…his heart belongs to you. I don’t think there’s any other man he’d want to be with.”

“I believe you’re mistaken, Francisco. We’re just friends.”

“We’ll see,” he said, taking another sip of his coffee.

* * * *

The Buckle Room

8:45 A.M.

Then he said, “Have you seen the Buckle Room yet?”

“The what?” I asked, and took another bite of the banana.

“It’s a room Cord’s set up to display his work.”

I quickly finished the banana and said, “I think I’d like to see it.”

Francisco smiled and said, “Follow me.” I followed him out of the kitchen, back through the sunlit foyer, and across into the living room, looking really homey with its leather furniture. Then he led me into a smaller room covered in wall-to-wall buckles. Three skylights let in the sunshine, making the buckles shine. Each buckle was displayed with care. I looked around, surprised at the variety: NASCAR cars; bear, deer, horses, coyotes, bulls, and cougars; state shapes; battleships, military branches, and rifles; a variety of professional sports teams.

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