Billy's Date

 

Chapter 1: Billy

The "frat house" - as everyone called the back bedroom of the Benson ranch house - looked like a tornado had hit it. Beer bottles lined the windowsill, dirty clothes hung from both sets of bunk beds, and the smell of sweat, Old Spice, and yesterday's boots filled the air.

Billy Benson stood in front of the cracked mirror mounted on the closet door, trying to get his hair just right under his black Stetson. At nineteen, he was the youngest of the four Benson boys, but he'd grown into his six-foot frame over the summer, all muscle and confidence from years of ranch work.

"Jesus Christ, Billy," Jake said from the top bunk, tossing an empty Coors can at his younger brother's head. "You've been primping for an hour. It's just Edna."

Billy ducked, grinning. "Just Edna? That's Sheriff Nelson's daughter you're talking about, asshole."

"Ooooh, Sheriff Nelson's daughter," Celab Beaumont mimicked in a high voice from the bottom bunk across the room. At nineteen, he'd fit right in with the Benson brothers since his family joined the consortium. "Better not mess up her hair, Billy."

Billy Junior - technically Billy's nephew but only six years younger - looked up from his laptop on the floor between the beds. "Uncle Billy's nervous," he announced with a thirteen-year-old's brutal honesty. "Look, his hands are shaking."

"They are not shaking, you little shit," Billy said, but he glanced at his hands anyway.

Jake hopped down from his bunk, landing with a thud that made the whole room shake. At twenty, he was only eleven months older than Billy, but he'd never let his little brother forget it. "Here, let me help you, princess." He grabbed Billy's shoulders and spun him around. "Yep. You look like a cowboy. Edna will swoon."

"Fuck off," Billy laughed, shoving Jake away. But he checked the mirror one more time, adjusting his good shirt - the white button-down Mom had ironed for him - and making sure his jeans weren't too wrinkled.

"Where you taking her anyway?" Celab asked, shuffling a deck of cards. "Another romantic drive around the county?"

"We're going to Miller's Crossing," Billy said. "You know, that spot by the old bridge where you can see the whole valley."

"Oh man," Jake grinned. "Miller's Crossing. Billy's getting serious."

"It's just a nice spot," Billy protested, but his ears turned red.

Billy Junior saved him. "Uncle Billy, can you help me with this code when you get back? I'm trying to set up a phone tracking program."

"What for?" Billy asked, grateful for the subject change.

Jr. shrugged. "Just something I'm working on. You never know when it might come in handy."

"Leave it to Jr. to be the family tech genius while the rest of us can barely work the TV remote," Celab said.

Billy grabbed his keys from the nightstand, shoving aside empty bottles and a half-eaten bag of chips. "Alright, idiots. I'm heading out."

"Don't do anything we wouldn't do!" Jake called.

"That leaves me a lot of options," Billy shot back, ducking a pillow Jake threw at his head.

"Bring her back some flowers or something," Jr. called out. "Girls like that stuff."

"Since when do you know what girls like?" Billy asked.

"Since I started dating Anna," Jr. said proudly.

"You had one kiss, little man," Jake laughed. "That's not dating."

Billy left them arguing and headed down the hallway toward the main part of the ranch house. The floorboards creaked under his boots - the same sound he'd been hearing his whole life. He could smell Mom's pot roast from the kitchen and hear Dad and Pops talking on the front porch, probably discussing cattle prices or the weather or whatever it was they always found to argue about.

The evening air hit him as he stepped outside, still warm but with that hint of coolness that promised fall was coming. His truck - a beat-up Chevy that had seen better days but never let him down - sat in the circular drive.

As he climbed in and fired up the engine, he caught sight of Pops on the front porch, brandy in hand, cigar smoke curling around him in the twilight. The old Vietnam vet raised his glass in a casual salute.

Billy honked twice and pulled down the long driveway toward the main road, country music low on the radio, his good hat sitting just right, completely unaware that seventeen miles north, someone was already monitoring the radio frequency the consortium families used - and waiting.Chapter 2: Edna

Edna Nelson stood in front of her dresser mirror, smoothing down her blue sundress one last time. Billy was supposed to pick her up twenty minutes ago, which wasn't like him. She grabbed her phone and typed quickly.

Where are you? Getting worried.

The response came back almost immediately from Billy's number: Truck trouble. Half hour.

She frowned. Billy's truck was old but reliable, and he'd never texted her so curtly before. But maybe he was just frustrated with whatever had broken down.

"Edna, honey, come down here!" her mother called from the kitchen. "Your father wants to get some pictures before Billy arrives."

She found the whole Nelson family gathered in the living room - her parents Wade and Mary, and her brothers Wilson and Ryan, still in their deputy uniforms from their shift.

"Look at you," Wade beamed, his stern sheriff's expression softening the way it only did for his daughter. "Billy's a lucky kid."

"Dad," Edna blushed, but she was smiling. It was so different from the Benson house, where the boys would probably just throw something at Billy and tell him to get moving.

"One picture," Mary insisted, positioning Edna by the fireplace. "Wilson, Ryan, get in here with your sister."

"Mom, we're in uniform," Wilson protested.

"So? You're her brothers. Now get over here."

They spent the next few minutes taking photos - Edna alone, Edna with her parents, the whole family together. Her phone buzzed again - Billy's number.

But it wasn't Billy.

The photo loaded slowly on her screen - Billy, tied to a chair, tape across his mouth, terror in his eyes. A gloved hand gripped his chin, forcing him to look at the camera. There was writing on his torn shirt: "CONSORTIUM PAYS OR HE DIES."

Her scream shattered the peaceful evening.

"DADDY! DADDY, HELP!"

The phone fell from her trembling hands as her family rushed to her.

"What's wrong? What happened?" Dad demanded, immediately scanning for threats.

"Billy," she sobbed, pointing at the phone on the floor.

Dad picked it up, took one look, and his face went deadly calm. "Wilson, get the emergency radio. Ryan, start the truck."

"What is it?" Mary asked, reaching for Edna.

"They're using Billy's phone," Dad said grimly, showing Mary the screen. "This ransom photo was meant for Tom or me, but they sent it to Edna by mistake."

Wilson rushed back with the special radio unit that Billy Jr. and Pops had rigged up for the consortium - their fancy 911 system that connected all three families on one emergency frequency.

Dad hit the red button and spoke directly to Tom: "Tom, this is Wade. We have a situation. Billy's been taken."

The response was immediate. Tom's voice crackled through: "What? What do you mean taken?"

"Kidnapped, Tom. They're using his phone. Sent a ransom photo to Edna by mistake. He's tied up somewhere."

The radio exploded with voices from the Benson ranch:

"WHAT?" Jake's voice, sharp with panic.

"Billy?" That was Sarah, Billy's mother.

"Holy shit," Celab's voice in the background.

"His phone?" Jr.'s voice, suddenly sharp with understanding. "Dad, if they're using Uncle Billy's phone, I can track it!"

Pops's gravelly voice cut through the chaos: "Everyone shut up. Tom, we're arming up. Wade, get over here now."

"We're coming," Dad said. "Everyone meet at the Benson place."

At the Beaumont house, the radio crackled to life with the same transmission. Robert's plate shattered against the kitchen floor as his fist slammed into the table.

"Kidnapped?" he roared. "Using Billy's phone? Those amateur sons of bitches!"

Anna dropped her phone, her eyes wide with fear, but also with a spark of hope - if they had Billy's phone, Jr. could find him.

Within minutes, all three families were racing through the Texas night toward the Benson ranch, while seventeen miles north, a kidnapper held Billy's phone, completely unaware that he'd just given away his location.Jr. burst through the splintered front door as his father Josh was cutting the ropes that bound Billy to the chair. His uncle looked up, the cuts on his chest already scabbing over - more like scrapes than anything serious.

"Hey there, Jr. How'd I sound on the radio?"

Billy stood up as soon as the ropes fell away, rubbing his wrists where the rope had left mild burns. He was steady on his feet, just stiff from being tied up for six hours.

Jake appeared in the doorway, took one look at his brother, and shook his head. "Damn, Billy. You look like shit."

"Thanks, asshole," Billy grinned, wincing slightly as he stretched. "Good to see you too."

Celab walked over and sniffed dramatically. "Man, you smell like fear and sweat. Much worse than usual."

"Fuck you," Billy laughed, shoving Celab away. The normalcy of their ribbing felt like the best medicine in the world.

Jr. keyed his microphone: "Base, this is Mobile Command. Package is secure, mobile, and talking shit. Uncle Billy is fine - just some rope burns and scratches. We're bringing him home."

"And hungry," Billy added, loud enough for the radio to pick up. "Tell Mom I could really use those steaks now."

Wade approached, holstering his weapon. "Wilson and Ryan will stay to process the scene. Rest of us are going home."

"You mean I don't get to stick around for the paperwork?" Billy asked.

"You get to go home, shower, and eat," Wade said firmly. "My deputies will handle the rest."

Wilson and Ryan were already setting up crime scene tape and pulling equipment from the patrol car.

"Base, this is Mobile Command," Jr. announced. "All personnel except Deputies Wilson and Ryan are returning to base. ETA thirty minutes. Tell the ladies to fire up the grill."

Billy slung an arm around Jr.'s shoulders as they walked toward the trucks. "Nice work on the communications, kid. You sounded like a real professional."

"Uncle Billy taught me well," Jr. said, grinning up at his hero.

"Yeah, well, next time maybe we skip the part where I get kidnapped, alright?"

Jake called out from behind them: "Next time don't take so long getting ready for your date!"

Billy's laughter echoed across the Texas night as three families headed home for the latest dinner they'd ever shared - and the most grateful.

Epilogue: The Date

Two hours later, Billy stood in front of the same cracked mirror in the frat house, trying to get his hair just right under a fresh black Stetson. He'd showered twice to get the smell of fear and that abandoned house off him, and was now wearing his second-best white shirt - Mom had already thrown the torn one in the trash.

"Jesus Christ, Billy," Jake said from his bunk, a beer in his hand. "You're primping again. Haven't you been through enough tonight?"

"Leave him alone," Celab laughed, dealing cards on the floor. "Man's got a date to finish."

"At one in the morning," Jr. added, looking up from his laptop where he was already writing up a technical report of the night's communications. "Most romantic time for the front porch."

Billy splashed on cologne - maybe a little too much - and grinned at his reflection. "Edna's been waiting six hours for this date. Even if it's just on the porch swing."

"Don't do anything we wouldn't do!" Jake called as Billy headed for the door.

"We already established that leaves me a lot of options," Billy shot back.

Down on the wraparound porch, three families were sprawled across chairs and tables, plates of perfectly grilled steaks in front of them, the crisis having worked up everyone's appetite. Pops sat in his favorite chair with a generous glass of whisky, his rifle propped against the porch rail like a satisfied old soldier.

Billy found Edna sitting on the porch swing, looking beautiful in the same blue sundress she'd put on hours ago. She stood up as he approached, her eyes taking in his fresh shirt and slightly damp hair.

"So," he said, offering his hand, "want to have that date right here? I know it's not Miller's Crossing, but..."

"Billy Benson," she said, taking his hand and settling back onto the swing, "after tonight, I don't care if we never leave this porch."

As they sat together, Jr. and Anna were on the front steps, thinking they were hidden in the shadows. Jr. leaned over and gave Anna a quick, awkward peck on the lips.

"Well, well," Pops called out, his whisky-roughened voice carrying across the porch. "Looks like Jr.'s learning some new skills tonight."

Jr. turned red as a beet while the adults chuckled.

Edna looked over at the young couple and shook her head with a smile. "Anna, honey, come here for a second."

Anna approached shyly, Jr. trailing behind her.

"Girl," Edna said with a mischievous smile, "that's not how you do it."

Before anyone could react, Edna turned to Billy, put her hands on either side of his face, and kissed him long and slow and sweet - a real kiss that lasted a good fifteen seconds and left no doubt about how she felt about her cowboy.

When they finally broke apart, Jr.'s voice cracked as he stared at them: "NO WAY!"

The thunderous laughter from the porch could probably be heard three counties over.

Billy grinned and settled back on the swing with Edna tucked against his side. "Best date ever," he murmured.

"Jake, Celab, Jr.," he called out to the gang watching from the doorway, "you owe me a new shirt!"

And as the Texas stars wheeled overhead, the Benson ranch glowed warm and safe in the night, three families grateful to be together, and one nineteen-year-old cowboy finally getting his perfect date - right at home where he belonged.