His Cowboy

Billie Bob Jones

"Don't talk to strangers Delilah and remember blood stays inside the patients," I laughed as I pulled up in front of the hospital.

"Don't be an idiot Bobby," she shook her head; I always gave her advice when compared to her I only knew the most basic parts of the human body. "Thank you for the ride. I'll let you know when you can pick me up."

"Sure thing," I smiled. She kissed my cheek before climbing out of my truck. I waved at her as she quickly looked back before walking to the entrance of the hospital. After staying put for a few seconds to make sure she entered safely I was on my way back to the high way.

I had my window rolled down as I listened to country music. I took advantage of Delilah not being in the car and lit a cigarette as I stopped at a red traffic light. Although my attention was quickly deterred as a black Rolls Royce followed by two black BMW X7 followed closely behind it.

It seemed all of us at the red light seemed amazed by the convoy of cars as they passed in front of us. Houston was a big city and one did see fancy cars pass by often but for some reason those ones were just different. The windows were tinted so much that you could not even see a shadow within.

The person most definitely did not want to be seen.

I did not think much about it though once the cars had disappeared out of sight and I could drive again. Normally I never smoked, especially with health conscious Delilah on my back but once in a while I did need the bitter taste of nicotine in my veins to get me going for a few hours.

Arriving back at Bloom was always an experience. Our little town had a population of three-thousand people. Everyone knew everyone here and I kind of loved it. Sometimes it could get a bit annoying but it was always good to know everyone had your back if something had to happen.

When you entered the small town there was a statue of the founder of the town Micheal Bloom, who originally from the Netherlands, discovered the land off the river just a hundred years ago, on a horse. From there one would cross the bridge over the river and that was the beautiful entrance to Bloom.

It was a quick five minute drive through the small town before one approached the suburbs and out of the suburbs a road connected most of the ranches.

There was a total of ten surrounding ranches and we took up one of them. When I was eighteen my Ma and I moved to Bloom from another small town in search of a fresh start. A few years later she met Clyde; my stepdad, and they got married.

Clyde owned one of the biggest cattle farms in the area and of course I was all in for it. The ranch had been passed down from generation to generation and Clyde only having daughters who moved to big cities around America had no one to help him and that was when I stepped in.

The ranch was a ten minute drive from the town and covered a large area of land. Delilah, Rob and I shared one of the houses on the ranch. When I drove up to our house Chuck, the town's mechanic, was already waiting for me outside the garage.

"How you doing Chuck?" I smiled once I had climbed out my truck. We both lifted our hats as we shook hands.

"Same ol' same ol'. What 'bout you?" he grinned.

"Oh you know just been busy a lot, getting ready for the rodeo," I chuckled as we walked into the garage.

"You better ol' son. Bring Bloom a few more medals to brag about," he chuckled causing his beer belly to jiggle with him.

Chuck was in his late thirties with dirty blonde hair, a short structure, a semi-fit body that was once fit but changed due to the amount of beer and burgers he consumed. His shirt always had stains from car grease and his jeans were always somehow tattered.

"Delilah said her car wouldn't start this morning," I sighed as we entered the garage where her old grey Chevrolet sedan stood.

"I hope it's not the transmission again," he tilted his head. "Let me try to start it up."

I tossed him the keys before he climbed in. An hour later we were still nowhere close to fixing it before Chuck decided to tow the car all together back to his shop. From what I could tell her car was not going to be fixed any time soon.

When I entered the house, I was dirty from helping Chuck and from towing the car. I still had to go to the bank and run a few errands for Clyde since him and Ma were gone to Florida for the next few days. Therefore I quickly changed my shirt but left my jeans since they were going to get dirty again anyway.

That kept me busy most of the time until I had to drive back to Houston. The café Delilah worked for was off some hot shot fancy cooperate company that drew a lot of people to Houston. I never really focused on what it was all about but I knew the man who owned it was ridiculously rich.

The café was on the lower level and had a lovely Texas charm to it. I often came around during the morning if I was in the city for a quick coffee and I wished I could visit it more often. It was the first time though I had come so late in the afternoon and was surprised at how quiet it was.

Yet as I walked down the sidewalk from my truck the same convoy of black cars I saw earlier stood right in front of the café. I could not even tell if anyone was inside them, but standing next to them now they were so much more intimidating. My beat up Ford was nothing compared to them.

With a heavy sigh I pushed open the café door and noticed Delilah's head pop out from the kitchen.

"I'll be out in a second Bobby," she called out.

"Sure thing," I responded.

I looked around the empty tables and instantly stopped when I noticed three men sitting by a corner table. Two out of three looked at me, I lifted my hat in greeting and they curtly nodded. The third sitting the furthest away paid no attention to me.

I shrugged and sat down by one of the tables.

The first one in my direct line of vision looked nothing like the other two, his skin was pale with dark hair cut extremely short, a thin moustache and light brown eyes. His black suit looked expensive and even though I did not know much about designer clothes I knew it was custom. He had a square jaw and sharp eyebrows that gave him a cold glare.

The second; seated across him, had dark blonde hair cut at the sides but kept long in the middle. His skin was tanner and it was evident he spent a lot of time in the sun. I could see hints of tattoos running up his neck and even more on his clasped hands that he rested on the table. Multiple rings decorated his fingers and he wore a matching suit to the man in front of him.

His eyes were an icy blue that I had never seen before.

I was glad I was wearing my sunglasses otherwise it would have been painfully obvious I was staring them down.

My attention shifted to the third one sitting at the head of the table. The one who did not acknowledge my existence.

He was bigger than the other two, both in height and in muscle. He looked older as well and radiated danger. His hair was dark, almost black, and wavy yet chopped off just above his shoulders. He combed it to the side in an effortless style that still looked intentional somehow.

His skin was tanned and unnaturally smooth, his eyebrows thick yet arched. A scar ran down the middle of his left eyebrow that made his dark hazel eyes intimidating. Almost like a predator. His jaw sharp and rectangular. His top lip thin whilst the bottom being plump. Another scar ran through the right side of his upper lip.

His suit unlike the others was a charcoal black, he wore no tie and simply left a few buttons of his white button up shirt unbuttoned exposing his tattooed chest. His hands as well had tattoos and rings.

They spoke in hushed voices that I could only pick up a few of the things they said. It was not English that was for. Spanish? I knew some Spanish yet this sounded different, Portuguese maybe?

Yet before I could try to listen closer to see if I could pick up anything the leader of the group stood up. The other two like puppies followed along and they passed my table before exiting the café. I turned around to look out the window as they climbed into the Rolls Royce and drove off.

Who were they?