ANOTHER SUNNY DAY (7 page)

It was a timely reminder that she was Sunny, at least for the next few days. But should the charade continue into the night with a man who wou
ld never know the real truth?

"Miss Day?" Bob tried again.

"Oh, yes. I'm sorry," she apologized, rewarding his diligence with a dazzling smile. "Of course, I would love to be on your show. Am I dressed properly for your cameras, or should I change?"

"You look perfect just the way you are. In fact, all the photographs I've seen of you don't do you justice," he went on effusively. "If you'll follow me, I'll introduce you to Jan Glenn and Don Nelson, the hosts of
Good Morning Houston
. I'm sure they'll be just as thrilled to meet you as I am."

Tyler had returned with her breakfast and was waiting somewhat impatiently, a dark scowl or his handsome face. As Bob jotted a quick note on his clipboard Sarah shrugged and tried to tell Tyler with her eyes that it was just another part of the game and for him not to take it personally. She hoped she had gotten the message across, because Bob, propelled her across to a van that had a large
13
and
Eyewitness News
painted on its sides and an antenna mounted on its top.

Both hosts were very warm and friendly, immediately putting Sarah at ease. She wasn't used to being interviewed, but she'd seen Sunny handle it so many times that she knew she could pull it off. After the cameras had been set up and an impromptu stage arranged in front of one of the covered wagons the interview begin with the hosts confessing that they were fans of h
ers and delighted to meet her.

"Are you enjoying the trail ride, Sunny?" Jan asked. "I have to admit that I don't think I could make it for a whole week. I ride in the parade every year and enjoy it, but this would be just a lit
tle too much of a good thing."

"I'm having a terrific time. It's been so long since I've been able to spend time outdoors, breathing this fresh, clean country air and enjoying the scenery," Sarah answered honestly. "And even though I perform in front of thousands of people each year, I never have the opportunity to meet many of my fans. I think some degree of personal contact is important for a performer to
keep her perspective."

"You perform on the
road quite a lot, don't you?"

"Yes, usually about three hundred days out of the year, which gets grueling for even the most season
ed performer," Sarah admitted.

"I
can imagine," Jan sympathized.

"Of course, it does have its rewards. It pays well as long as the tickets keep selling. And touring helps to boost record sales. Also it fulfills that certain something deep within me that prompted me to walk upon a stage for the first time and sing my heart out to anyone who cared to listen. Back then it didn't matter whether or not they paid me. I just wanted to
perform in front of audience."

"I've noticed that performers do seem to be driven by some invisible force. I don't think they would be content to live their lives without that opportunity for self-expression, do
you?" Jan asked perceptively.

"You're absolutely right. I don't understand it myself, but performing can be as vital to a person's survival as eating and breathing," Sarah agreed, thinking of Sunny. Even when she was on the verge of exhaustion, she still pushed herself, traveling to one more
concert so she could get out there and do what she did best . . . sing.

The cameraman motioned that they had to cut to a commercial, and everyone took advantage of the break to drink their coffee or have their hair retouched. Sarah stayed where she was, but when she looked up, she saw Tyler standing behind one or the cameramen. He was studying her with an oddly intimate look that made her heart lurch. It took all her self-control not to rush over to him and throw herself into his arms. But as quickly as his look had appeared, it was replaced by a detached impersonal one that made her wonder if she had read
too much into his expression.

The camera light blinked back on, and the interview continued from the point wh
ere they had left off earlier.

"Now let's get a little more personal," Jan said with a conspiratorial smile. "With all of this traveling how do you have time for any sort of meaningful rel
ationships?"

To Sarah's dismay she could feel a warm blush staining her cheeks. This was a subject, better left
undiscussed with her own feelings in such a turmoil.

"Is there someone special in your life
right now?" Jan pried gently.

"Do I look like the type to kiss and tell?" Sarah responded evasively with a
saucy toss of her blond curls.

Jan leaned forward slightly and prompted, "Your romantic involvements have gotten quite a lot of press coverage. I thought you might like to have the opportunity to set the reco
rd straight once and for all."

"For most of my life my energy has been focused on developing a successful career," Sarah said thoughtfully. Perhaps this was a chance to help her sister's credibility by sweeping away some of the half-truths and emphasizing her dedication. "I admit that I do attend my share of parties, but if I was half as wild and wicked as has been reported, I wouldn't have the strength or stamina
to keep to my tough schedule.

"And as far as a serious relationship goes, it would take a very special man to understand and tolerate my situation." How true that statement was; she thought to herself. If only Tyler could be open-minded enough to accept her as Sarah and not be disappointed a
nd disgusted by her deception.

The interview changed course and for the next few minutes they discussed
Sunny's music and future plans. Jan and Don said they looked forward to seeing her at the parade in Houston on Saturday. After the interview Bob promised to save her a video DVD of the show, which had been aired live.

Tyler was no longer standing where she had seen him last, so Sarah headed for her trailer. She was almost at the door when she saw him walking to
ward her, leading his gelding.

"Where's
Zena? She's not hurt, is she?" Sarah's voice was filled with concern.

"No, she's fine," he answered, peering, at her inquisitively. "I didn't know whether you were planning on riding her or the front
seat of a pickup truck today."

"I thought we had discussed this last night. Of course I want to ride
Zena. This is a trail ride. I didn't fly all the way to Houston to sit in a pickup truck," she retorted, frustrated by the sudden change in his attitude toward her. It appeared that Tyler was trying to avoid her company. Apparently he hadn't been looking forward to today's ride as much as she had. Which was just as well, she tried to reassure herself, because the attraction was too strong, and she needed to remember how dangerous an involvement would be.

"But I don't want you to feel like you have to ride with me. I'm sure one of your men would be happy to take your place if you have other more pressing duti
es," she purred sarcastically.

For several seconds they glared at each other, their pride and uncertainty looming between the
m like a brick wall.

"You're the boss," he sneered. I'll get someone to saddle
Zena and bring her over here." And he turned on his heel, mounted his horse, and left her standing on the step, too furious to call him back for the explanation she felt she deserved.

When her new escort arrived with
Zena, Sarah knew Tyler was getting the last laugh. Thank goodness she too, had a good sense of humor for this new turn of events would surely have tested the patience of a saint.

The man, who probably would never see seventy again looked like he had just ridden out of a rerun of
Bonanza
. He was dressed in baggy well-worn denim overalls that had faded to a soft bluish white after many washings and which succeeded in making his thin figure appear even more gaunt. A red plaid flannel shirt peeked out from beneath a canvas coat that must be at least two sizes too large.

"You ready to hit the trail, Miss Sunny?" he asked before turning to spit a dark stream o
f tobacco juice away from her.

"Sure thing," she answered, refusing to be intimidated by this ancient specimen. He started to get down
to help her mount, but she was already settled on Zena before he had even swung his right leg over the back of his saddle. As she urged the beautifully dainty mare forward Sarah decided that possibly the most disconcerting thing about the man was the man was the animal on which he sat.

It was, without a doubt, the ugliest mule Sara had ever seen. Tall and gangly, its coat the color of wet bark, the animal flipped its long lop ears backward, waiting for its master's command. It was an old joke that owners and their animals began to resemble each other after long years of association, and Sarah had never seen a case that confirmed this ax
iom more than this odd couple.

Silently they fell in with the others as they left the camp behind. Sarah was trying to think of a subject they could possibly have
in common when he spoke again.

"My name's Willie. In my younger days folks called me Wild Willie, but nowadays they call me Weird
Willie." He cackled gleefully.

Sarah looked at him doubtfully. Surely Tyler wouldn't send her an escort who wasn't playing with a full deck. She met Willie's very watery blue eyes and saw, not insanity but a sharpness undimmed by age. This little old man was playing a joke on the wo
rld and enjoying it immensely.

"Ty told me you're interested in soaking in some local color as we go. Ain't
no one better equipped to do that than ol' Willie here, 'cause I've been riding on this trail ride every year since it started back in 1952. Yep, me and Ethyl never miss one," he added, directing another stream of juice over his shoulder.

'"Who's Ethyl?" Sarah was impelled to ask, wondering if an equally old and strange lady was somewhere among the long line
of trail riders.

"Ethyl's my mule," he explained as he bent down and patted the shaggy nec
k, sending up a cloud of dust.

"Why did you name her Ethyl?" she queried, wondering if perhaps it was the name
of an old flame or his mother.

"'Cause she ain't regular!" Willie hooted, delighted that he had sucker
ed her into his favorite joke.

"Oh, no." Sarah groaned at the corn pone humor. She would pay Tyler back for this if it took the rest of her life. Frantically she tried to change the subject.

"Do you live in Houston, Willie?"

"Nope. You won't catch me in
no city. There's just too many people all jammed together, fighting the traffic and cussin' their neighbors. That's what's' wrong with the United States today."

When he didn't expand on this statement, Sarah was prompted to ask, "What's
wrong with the United States?"

"I'll tell you." He nodded wisely. "
There's more people than cattle. Nineteen eighty-one was the first year in Texas's history when the humans outnumbered the cattle, and as far as I'm concerned, that was the beginning of the end."

"Sur
ely it can't be that disastrous," Sarah said, trying to placate him.

"Just think about all the places that have given us taxes, crime, and politics and tell me what the human/cattle ratio is. There's something honest and dependable about a cow. Some
of my best friends are cows."

"Does Ethyl know?" she asked in a theatrical whisper
which drew his pleased guffaw.

"Ty
told me you weren't half-bad."

Which means I'm not half-good," she m
uttered under her breath.

"What's that?" Willie leane
d closer so he could hear her.

"It's a personal joke," she said louder, then added, "And I have a few
thing I'd like to tell Tyler right now."

"Hey, go easy on ol' Ty. He's been acting real strange lately. I think he's up
set about something or other."

"Do you know him well?" At last there was a subject she was vit
ally interested in discussing.

"As well as anyone, I guess. He sort of keeps to himself. But his grandfather and
me go way back."

Questions flew through her mind, and she wondered if it would be possible to satisfy her curiosity without seeming obvious. Throwing caution to the wind, she queried casually, "
Was his father a rancher too?"

"Yep, and his grandfather before that. They have a pretty sizable spread down south of Houston near a little town called Alvin. Used to run a few hundred head of cattle on it, but now they mostly just rai
se rodeo stock and longhorns."

Sarah's thoughts sped ahead to the days when she would have her own farm and would have to decide what type of livestock she could raise and enjoy while still making ends meet. "You mean they can make a liv
ing raising pleasure animals?"