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Authors: Nancy Martin

The Cowboy and the Calendar Girl (13 page)

BOOK: The Cowboy and the Calendar Girl
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“What’s so funny?”
“I’ve been trying to quit smoking for years. I just realized I haven’t even thought about cigarettes for days. This place is good for me, after all.”
As they walked, the scenery seemed to grow more magnificent to Carly—especially since she could keep the Fowler house in sight. She did not want to find herself lost in the wilderness again. The land seemed to expand around her, the horizon slipping farther and farther into the distance.
They walked a mile, perhaps more. The ground rose gradually, and at last Carly realized they had arrived at the top of a long, sloping plateau. From the summit, she thought she could see hundreds of miles in every direction. The sheer distance amazed her. The majesty of those rolling waves of grass took her breath away. She stopped and stood very still, a gasp caught in her throat.
Behind her, Hank said, “Beautiful, isn’t it?”
“Wonderful. The grass looks like an ocean.”
Hank put his arm around her and pulled Carly back against his chest. “I learned to rock climb up here.”
“Really?”
“I graduated to mountains, but this is where it all started.”
“You climb mountains? You mean hiking or with axes and cables?”
“The real deal—ice climbing. It scares my mother to death. I’m not world-class, but I love it.” He looked out at the vista that sprawled around them. “I used to come up here as a boy and just let my imagination take over.”
Carly followed his gaze and leaned back into his frame. “It’s hard to believe people actually came across distances like these to make their homes. You must be very proud of your family.”
A low laugh vibrated in his chest. “Proud, yes. Sometimes I think they were crazy, too.”
“I’m getting the impression you haven’t always been in sync with your family.”
“Not always,” he agreed, then struggled to continue. “We’re rooted here, you see, in this beautiful place. But—well, take that pup for instance.”
Not sure where the conversation was going, Carly jumped to a conclusion. “She’s too young to be set free, Hank. She’ll die. Surely you see—”
“I know, I know. But she’s meant to be in her natural habitat. We can’t change that.”
“I don’t want her for a pet.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about, Carly.” Hank turned her around until they were facing each other. His face was set with concentration. “What I mean is, animals aren’t like people. Or rather—well—”
She thought he was getting unusually flustered. “What are you trying to say?”
“I love this ranch,” Hank went on doggedly, his hands firm on her shoulders. “The land means something to me. It’s where my-family belongs, and I’m ready to do anything to make sure things stay that way.”
“I see,” Carly murmured. An awful lump seemed to have sprouted in her throat suddenly.
He’s trying to tell me we’re finished. We can’t be together because he belongs here and I don’t
He continued speaking, but Carly didn’t mentally catch up until he was saying, “Becky’s the important factor, you see. The ranch is her life, and I—well, I agreed to help her keep it.”
“Uh-huh.”
“There’s been financial trouble in the past, and Becky needs some serious cash to keep the place going. That’s why she entered your contest.”
Carly tried to switch mental gears, but her emotions were boiling to the point that not much was making sense. “You’ll be getting the ten thousand, I promise.”
“That’s not what I—”
“Bert found the right photographer. She’ll be coming tomorrow, if everything works out. We can take your pictures as soon as she gets here.”
Hank blanched and laughed wryly. “I’ll have to go through with this, won’t I?”
Carly managed a smile. “It’ll be a snap. Don’t worry. I won’t make you take off your shirt unless you want to.”
He laughed. “I won’t want to!”
“Alexis will make it fun.”
“Alexis?” he repeated, feigning dismay. “A woman?”
“Not just one,” Carly shot back, amused. “She’ll be bringing Rachel, the makeup artist, and probably Deneesa, who does the lighting.”
“Oh, God.”
“Trust me,” Carly soothed with a smile. “They’ll be much easier on you than the guys we usually hire. Mark has been known to make grown men weep.”
“Carly...”
“Yes?”
Hank held her in his arms and lost himself in the warm gaze she tilted up at him. He loved looking at the sharp planes of her face—the classic curves of her cheekbones, the inquisitive point of her nose, the luscious lips that tasted as delicious as any wine he’d ever enjoyed. The life force that burned behind her eyes was strong enough to make a man forget everything else in the world.
Just looking down at her made Hank’s mind go blank.
He gave up trying to explain himself and kissed her instead. A long, sweet kiss that promised much more.
A better time would come, he thought dimly, parting her mouth and delving deep inside. For now, all he wanted was to lose himself in the woman in his arms.
 
 
The following morning, Carly was summoned from her bed by Becky who called through the door that Bert was on the phone again.
“What’s going on?” Hank muttered, rolling over when Carly climbed out of the bed and into her robe.
“Go back to sleep,” she whispered softly. “I’ve got a phone call from Bert.”
“Kiss me,” he commanded in a murmur. “So I won’t be jealous.”
Touched and amused, she obeyed and tucked him back into the warm bedclothes once again.
Downstairs, Carly picked up the receiver, and said, “This had better be an emergency.”
Bert began laughing. “Why? Were you sleeping late? Or otherwise occupied?”
“Never mind,” Carly said tartly, but unable to stop smiling. “Don’t spoil my mood.”
“Boy, you must be having a great time,” Bert said. “I almost hate to end your vacation.”
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“A spot of legal trouble, I’m afraid. A bunch of lawyers called from New York, claiming we violated a copyright law with the last calendar. They want half a million dollars, and they’re coming to get it.”
“What copyright law? Everything was perfectly straight with the photos we used.”
“Can you prove that?”
“Yes,” Carly said, sure of herself. “I have all the paperwork in a file.”
“Is it something I can handle?”
Carly considered the situation. It wasn’t the first time some entrepreneurial lawyers came looking to take a cut out of Twilight’s profits. She knew this bunch was just fishing, too. There was a good chance Bert could handle the problem, but Bert had been known to drop the ball under pressure.
“When are they coming?”
“They’re on a plane right now.”
Carly groaned. “A preemptive strike. All right, I’ll come as soon as I can make arrangements. You’ll have to stall them until I get there.”
“When will that be?”
“Before sunset, I hope. Get off the phone and let me call the airlines.”
“Carly,” said Bert, before she hung up, “thanks. I owe you.”
She smiled ruefully. “I’ll collect eventually.”
Upstairs shortly thereafter, Carly broke the news to a sleepy Hank.
“My plane leaves in six hours. It will take me that long to find the airport.”
He woke up fast and caught her wrist, his expression concerned. “Let me drive you.”
Pleased that he was ready to help her, Carly shook her head and tried to make her voice sound more cheerful than she was feeling. “I can find the airport by myself. Besides, you’re needed here today. Becky tells me the buyers are coming for your cattle. You’ll have to be here for that, right?”
“Well—Carly, listen.” Hank sat up in bed, his bare chest looking so stunning in the light of day that it was hard for Carly to keep her hands off him. He was serious, though, and said, “There’s something you’d better hear from me before you leave.”
“Sure,” she said, getting up hastily lest the temptation to touch him grew too strong to resist. She began throwing clothes into her suitcase. “But do you mind telling me while I shower? I’ve got to rush.”
Hank sank back into the pillows. “No, that’s okay. What I need to explain will have to be spelled out pretty clearly. I’ll wait.”
Carly swooped down and planted a hot kiss on his mouth. “There. Think of me while I’m in the shower.”
He grinned. “You bet.”
 
It was best, Carly thought later on the plane, to leave in a rush. There had been no time for a sappy scene with tears and a lot of stupid promises. Instead, they had parted in a very public spot on the porch with Becky and Chet watching unabashedly.
Deciding a handshake would be silly, Carly started to get into the rented Jeep as quickly as possible. But Hank pulled her back out into the sunlight. “Hold it.”
“But—”
He stopped her protest with his mouth, kissing Carly right in front of his sister and Chet. It was a good kiss, too—full of passion and heat.
When he released her, Carly said in a shaky voice, “I guess we’re not keeping this a secret anymore?”
“I want to shout it from the top of the weather vane,” he replied with an intimate smile, leaning his forehead against hers. “Besides, I think Becky knows everything.”
“How did she guess?”
“If I tell you, you’ll blush.”
Smiling, Carly closed her eyes and tried to commit to memory every feeling she experienced at that moment. There were too many—all confused, but wonderful. She inhaled a breath and drew away unwillingly.
“Take care of Baby for me,” she called as she got into the Jeep.
Yes, a quick departure had been best. Carly had forced herself not to cry by concentrating on driving, then on finding her plane in the airport. Seated on the flight at last, she kept her face turned to the small window and tried to memonze every moment she’d spent with Hank Fowler.
It had felt like lust, she thought. But Carly found herself believing it was love that had grown so quickly between them.
Nothing else could have felt so strong, so magnetic.
The whole way back to L.A., she tried to think of ways she could spend the rest of her life with Hank Fowler. But all her plans seemed to involve blowing up the Fowler ranch.
Eight
A
n enormous basket of flowers awaited Carly when she arrived at her office late that night.
The card read: “I miss you already.”
“Your South Dakota fella has more class than the average cowboy,” Bert observed, leaning against her open door.
“How do you know how much class cowboys have? And he’s not my fella.”
“Sorry,” Bert said, entering the office to make peace. “I should have known you’d be tired after the long flight. I told the lawyers we’d meet them for a drink at Provolone in an hour. That gives you time to make a phone call.”
Carly read the card again and softened toward Bert. “I didn’t mean to snap at you. I’m wishing I hadn’t left. We left a lot of things hanging.”
“So call him.”
“I shouldn’t.”
“You’re nervous, aren’t you?”
“Scared to death,” Carly admitted.
“That’s nonsense,” Bert said brusquely. “Call him and talk. Your motto has always been to go after something if you want it, Carly.”
Bert was right, she knew. He left her office, and she was already dialing an operator. In a moment she was transferred to the information service and was promptly stymied.
“There’s no Hank Fowler at that address,” the operator said calmly.
“Try Henry Fowler,” Carly suggested, absently rustling through the stack of mail that had accumulated on her desk during her trip.
The operator came back on the line an instant later. “I’m sorry.”
Puzzled, Carly said, “What about Becky Fowler?”
The operator punched in the code, and an automated voice promptly recited the correct telephone number for Becky Fowler. Carly wrote it down and immediately dialed the number.
Hank himself picked up the phone on the second ring. “Hello?”
“It’s me.”
He gave a laugh that made her heart warm. “I had a hunch it might be. Are you all right? Safe flight? Made your connection?”
“I’m fine. I’m here in my office getting ready for a meeting.”
“So late?”
“It’s one of those things,” she said, sinking into her swivel chair. She hugged herself, and murmured, “I’d rather be with you.”
“I wish you were. We’ve got to see each other again, Carly.” His voice deepened. “Soon.”
Smiling at the intimacy of his tone, Carly said, “I can’t get away until the weekend.”
“I was thinking I might come to you.”
She sat up straight, tingling with excitement. “You’re serious!”
“Absolutely,” he said with calm. “I can’t get you out of my head. As soon as your photographer friend is finished, I’ll be on a plane.”
“Oh, Hank, that would be wonderful. Did Alexis arrive yet?”
“This afternoon with her entourage.” Hank was laughing at the memory. “She’s threatening to get us all up before dawn to take advantage of the sunrise. She took some preliminary shots, as she called them. I don’t think they’re what you’re expecting, Carly—”
“I trust Alexis completely,” she said, delighted that her plans were progressing so smoothly. “Do everything she says, and you’ll be finished in no time.”
“Well—”
“Really, she’s the best.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And Hank,” she added, “tell Becky I’ll send her the check in the morning.”
“Thanks, love.” His voice sounded sincere. “It will make a big difference around here.”
A long silence followed, and Carly closed her eyes to savor the moment. She tried to imagine what Hank might be looking like at that moment. Longingly, she sighed.
“I know,” Hank murmured softly. “I feel the same way.”
I love you,
Carly wanted to say. The words almost popped out of her mouth. But she held them inside, sure that it was too soon.
Besides, this might be a short-term fling. Hot sex and nothing else, right?
Another inner voice said more insistently,
This is the real thing, Carly.
Into the pause, Hank said, “You’ll be glad to know that Baby’s fine. Eating her head off.”
A smile tugged at Carly’s mouth. “Do I detect a note of fondness in your voice at last? Has Baby finally made a friend out of you?”
“She bit Chet today.” Hank began to laugh. “Made him bleed, too. I love her!”
“She didn’t! Oh, poor Chet!”
“He’ll live. And so will she, by the way. The vet stopped by this afternoon and took a peek at her. He says we should be able to turn her loose after he’s had a chance to observe her for rabies.”
“Thank you for taking care of her.”
“I’d rather be taking care of you.”
“That sounds nice.”
“Carly?”
But Carly looked up as Bert tapped on her office door at that moment. Pulling on his trendy beige jacket, her partner pointed at his watch. She nodded in comprehension. It was nearly time to leave for their meeting.
Into the phone, she said, “Listen, I’ve got to run. We’ll talk again soon.”
“When?”
“Tomorrow. Say, did you know the phone number is listed in your sister’s name?”
“What?” He sounded blank.
“I didn’t bother bringing my book to the office, so I had to call information for your phone number. It’s listed in Becky’s name.”
“I can explam,” he said swiftly, “but not when you’re in a rush.”
“Oh! Did I thank you for the flowers? They’re beautiful.”
“I’m glad they arrived. I really do miss you, Carly.” He knew she was in a hurry and managed to say only, “You’re something special. I don’t want to lose you.”
Yes, yes, yes!
She nearly shrieked with joy.
“We’ll work something out,” she promised, getting to her feet. “I know we will. But now I have to run. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
“Right.”
Another silence ensued—this one laden with words neither was ready to say just yet. Carly laughed unsteadily and said, “Bye.”
Hank said, “Bye.”
As she cradled the phone, Bert blew the mood. “Shake a leg, Carly. We’re going to be late!”
 
The following day turned into a nightmare of meetings for Carly, but she felt good about settling the copyright problem with a minimum of fuss and no extra legal fees for Twilight Calendars. By cell phone on the way back from the airport where she’d seen off the New York contingent, she informed Bert of their victory.
“Wonderful,” Bert crowed. “Come back to the office for a drink.”
“I’d rather just go home, if you don’t mind, Bert. I’m tired and I have some calls to make.”
One
in
particular,
she almost added.
Bert wheedled, “Alexis sent some photos by modem from her laptop. Don’t you want a sneak peek of your cowboy without his shirt?”
Carly was surprised, but delighted. “He took his shirt off for her?”
“And looks pretty good, I must say. But if you’d rather go home—”
In a heartbeat, Carly changed her plans. “I’ll be there in half an hour.”
Bert laughed. “I’ll keep the home fires burning until you get here.”
Carly changed her route, and the freeway cooperated for once. She got back to the office in short order.
She found Bert in his office with the photos called up on his computer. He stood up and spun his chair around for Carly to take so she could view the pictures Alexis had sent.
“Are they any good?” she asked, out of breath as she took the chair Bert offered.
“Very good,” Bert replied, leaning down to view the screen with her. “A few minutes ago Alexis sent the stuff she shot today, and it’s even better than what came back earlier. See?”
Carly stared at the computer screen and could not understand what was staring back at her. “I don’t get it,” she said. “These pictures aren’t Hank.”
“What?”
“They’re Chet!”
“Who’s Chet?”
Totally baffled, Carly pointed one shaking finger at the small computer screen. “Him! That’s not Hank at all. Where’s Hank?”
“Wait a minute. These pictures are just right for the calendar.” Bert bent closer to the computer and pointed with a pencil. “This guy’s a perfect cowboy. Look at that horse! And the sunrise is wonderful! See how Alexis picked up the color of his hair in the trees?”
“But it’s not Hank!” Carly exploded. She pounded her fist on the desk. “Where is he?”
“Who cares? This guy is great!”
“I want Hank!” Carly cried.
“But Carly—”
“How could Alexis make such a mistake? She photographed the wrong man! Give me the telephone!”
“But—!”
Bert gave up as Carly grabbed his telephone and fumbled for her book and the Fowler phone number. In less than a minute, she was talking to Becky, who sounded very sleepy.
“Is Hank there? I’d like to speak with him.”
“Wha—What time is it? Lord, it’s after midnight!”
“I’m sorry, Becky. I didn’t think of the time zones. Can I talk to Hank?”
“Who is this?”
“Carly. Carly Cortazzo, remember? I’d like to speak with Hank.”
“Oh! Carly.” Becky yawned. “He left earlier today. Henry’s not here.”
“Where is he?”
“He left.” Becky was half-asleep and not very helpful. “Do you know what time it is?”
“Yes, yes, I’m sorry I—look, what about Alexis? Is she nearby?”
Becky mumbled something and dropped the phone. For an instant, Carly feared she had fallen back to sleep, but a moment later the sound of a door slamming and more voices eased her concern. Carly drummed her fingers on Bert’s desk. A few minutes passed before the unmistakably laconic voice that belonged to Alexis Carmichael came on the line.
“Hi-ya, Carly. How’d you like my switcheroo? Aren’t the pictures fantastic?”
“Lexie, what’s going on? Where is Hank?”
“Beats me, honey. We had a big laugh this morning, and he took off. I spent the day with Chet. Isn’t he yummy? I wish he wasn’t engaged to Becky.”
“But—I don’t understand. Hank is supposed to be our cowboy.”
Alexis sounded amused. “Honey, if you thought Henry Fowler was a real cowboy, I’ve got a bridge in Brooklyn that’s for sale. He’s a hunk, but not exactly Wild Bill Hickok.”
“What do you mean?”
“I figured you wanted an authentic man of the wide-open spaces, so we voted Chet for the job.”
“Who’s we?”
“Henry and me. He’s a neat guy, but hardly material for Twilight. I like him.”
Carly still didn’t understand what was happening. “Why isn’t he material for Twilight?”
“Because his IQ is bigger than his bicep measurement,” Alexis said blandly. “He’s got brains—and a body that’s not bad, but hardly what I usually see on your pages. You like the baby-oil look, right?”
“But—”
“Are you disappointed?” Alexis asked.
Carly tried to collect her wits. “I... just don’t understand, Lexie. Hank’s the real thing, isn’t he?”
“You’ve been looking at the wrong kind of man, honey, if you had Henry pegged for a cowpoke. How do you like the photos of Chet? Carly? Are you there?”
Carly gave up trying to make sense of it all and handed the telephone to Bert. She got up from the chair and walked to the wide windows that overlooked L.A. There, she leaned her forehead against the glass. Her mind was spinning. Her heart was seething.
Why would he lie?
Mentally, she tried to review every word she’d ever spoken to Hank and every sentence he’d replied. He
had
ridden horses. She remembered the first moment she saw him—galloping along the horizon on the black stallion. And his roping skills—surely a man couldn’t fake that?
And yet he’d been a klutz at just about everything else around the ranch. What had Chet said about Hank and horses? Carly couldn’t remember. He’d avoided taking her for a ride, though, instead encouraging Carly to walk to the hilltop overlooking the ranch.
With a blush, Carly realized they’d probably spent more time making love than anything else. She hadn’t enjoyed many opportunities to see Hank in action around the ranch. Except in bed.
The same question kept swirling in her mind.
Why would he lie?
The land means something to me
, he’d said.
It’s where my family belongs, and I’m ready to do anything to make sure things stay that way
.
But later he’d said,
Becky’s the important factor.
That had to be it. Becky had entered the contest. It was Becky who needed the money. Hank had just gone along with the scheme so his sister could keep the ranch.
BOOK: The Cowboy and the Calendar Girl
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