The Last Cowboy In Texas (8 page)

When she pulled up alongside Aggie’s unit, she said, “If you’d like, I can wait here while you two get organized.”

“That would be good. I need to learn firsthand what she has before we share it with you.”

She watched him knock. When the door opened, Aggie threw her arms around Carlson and dragged him inside. She hadn’t seen Paige sitting there in the car.

After several moments, she was tempted to interrupt. If they were doing what she suspected, this could take a while. Just then, the door opened and Aggie waved to her.

“Hi, Paige. Thanks for bringing my mentor to me. Isn’t he the neatest guy?”

“Absolutely, Aggie. Right out of the movies.”

“I think so, too. Come on in and we’ll brief you.”

For a very long half-hour, she listened to Aggie explaining her find and Steve Carlson pontificating on the need for wildlife protection. She’d long since taken ten times the notes she’d use for the story. On one hand, it made sense to publish it. After all, it was news. On the other hand, the news wouldn’t be welcome, to local fishermen, generally, or to Troy Roberts, specifically.

Carlson declined a ride back to
Flanders
, relying on Aggie to take him to retrieve his car. Paige had an idea the two were going to spend some quality time going over something more personal before surfacing in public on this sunny summer day.

She took the road more deliberately on the return trip, thinking about her new advantage in the never-ending psychological war against
Troy
. She could break the story in a way that would leave him helpless as a newborn babe. Or she could cast it in such a way that he had at least a fighting chance to save his investment. And his hide.

What should I do? Grind him into mush or play this for all it’s worth?

Chapter Five

Ozzie stuck his head inside Paige’s office. “What are you working on today?”

“I’m putting the finishing touches on the environmental story for Sunday’s edition.”

“You’re going ahead with it?”

“Sure. It’s news.”

“Not good news, if you ask me. This could be opening a can of worms.”

She chuckled. “Is that what you’ll use if the Gamies are declared off-limits?”

“I guess I’ll have to find worms or something. No way are these wackos going to keep me from my enjoyment of fishing.”

“Dad, I’m not sure they’re wackos. They’re zealous in their pursuit, but they seem pretty rational to me.”

“Well, kiddo, I don’t like it but I trust your judgment. Have you talked to
Troy
to get his side of things?”

“His side? Why would that matter?”

“Come on, Paige. I talked to him yesterday.”

She blushed, realizing he’d learned her secret. “Oh.”

“Are you going to talk to him?”

“No. I figure if he has something to say he’ll come to me. If he doesn’t, I’m not going to worry about it.”

He frowned but said nothing as he shrugged and walked away. She stared at the empty doorway before returning to her task.
Well, this is different.
Her dad didn’t approve of her decision but, unlike previous times, was apparently not going to try to dictate what she wrote. She’d finished the story and an accompanying editorial when
Troy
arrived.

“Hi, Paige. What’re you doing?”

“Getting copy ready for Sunday. Could I help you?”

“You certainly could.” The way he dragged the words out made her want to blush. Or maybe throw her paper weight at him. After a pause, he handed her a folder. “But for now, I have some ad copy for the paper. Your dad said I should show it to you.”

She pulled the copy out and thumbed through the sheets. The basic ad was for luxury tracts, along with a very nasty in-your-face statement concerning the dangers of environmental extremism. “You sure you want to print it like this?”

“Yes. Why?”

“This is like waving a red flag in front of the bull.”

Troy
’s eyes narrowed. “Do you regard Steve Carlson as a bull?”

“I didn’t say that. It was a figure of speech.”

“I can well imagine how he speaks of your figure.”

“Damn it,
Troy
, do you have to express everything in sexist terms?”

“I don’t have to. In this case, it fits.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“We’ll see.” He turned to go.

“Please understand,
Troy
, I’m not going to accept this for publication unless you soften the language in it.”

He spun back to face her. “It says what I want it to say.”

“I know that. I’m the great protector of free speech around these parts, remember? I’m thinking of your own best interest now. If you alienate the townspeople, they won’t support your project.”

“Why would it alienate them?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe the part where you call your adversaries wild-eyed environmentalists and unpatriotic socialists? Or tree-hugging gandy dancers, whatever the hell that’s supposed to mean. What do you think?”

“I think I like it the way I wrote it.”

“Well,
Troy
, while you’re here, you may as well read my Sunday editorial concerning the controversy.”

She handed him the editorial. He dropped into the seat across from her and read it. His face brightened then went pale. “Sounds like you’ve already chosen sides, Miss Turner.”

That was something he only called her when he was really, really angry. She couldn’t blame him. Her editorial put the paper firmly on the side of environmental conservatism.

“I don’t see it as choosing sides. Just simple logic.”

“Logic, my foot. I’ll show you simple logic.” He grabbed up his ad copy and rushed out of the office.

She shouted, “Did you change your mind about your ad?”

“No! Only about where I choose to spend my money on it.”

Ozzie appeared as the door slammed behind
Troy
. “What was that all about?”

“I think I just put my foot in it.”

“Again?”

* * *

Troy
concentrated on the road, his mind still on the willowy woman who seemed determined to vex him beyond all endurance.

I’ll fix her wagon! Advertising in Branson makes more sense than
Flanders
anyway. Crazy high and mighty female! Why is she so intent on making my life miserable? I know she’s jealous of Aggie. So what do I do?

He pulled up in front of the Branson Courier. Maybe she’d think twice when she learned he could go elsewhere for his advertising.
Troy
stomped into the paper office.

Thirty minutes later, he emerged, puzzled. The editor had accepted the ads but had managed to talk him into softening the tone of the accompanying message regarding environmentalism. Said it would negate the effectiveness of the advertising if he appeared too aggressive.

Basically, it was the same message Paige had given. He’d thought she was only refusing him out of spite and jealousy. Maybe he should step back and reassess. Before he could think further, a friendly voice hailed him.

“Hey,
Troy
! Just the guy I gotta talk to.” Jason Tawdry trotted up and offered his hand.

Troy
shook hands. “Hi, Jason. What’s up?”

The handsome singer smiled. “I was on my way up to
Flanders
but maybe we can work out somethin’ over here. It’d save me a trip over that dang path ya’ll call a road.”

“Let’s go to the Lazy Blues and have coffee, JT.”

“Sounds good. Your buggy or mine?”

“Mine. It’s right here.”

They got into the Lexus and set off across town to the posh establishment frequented by many of the country stars who called Branson home. After they ordered coffee,
Troy
spoke. “My guess is you want to talk about the new project. I was about to put the ads in the paper.”

“Yeah. You really got me all hot and bothered over this thing. I was fixin’ to buy a place down to Hollister. But the way you ‘xplained your plans and all, I figure I gotta get into that in a big way. Things are goin’ pretty good for me.”

“I hear you have a new number one hit.”

“Yep. Doin’ right well.”

“I like it. Don’t know where you came up with the title, though. ‘Local Yokel’s Sweet Mama’s Done Gone Blues’ seems kind of strange for a song title to me.”

“Not if you’re the local yokel.”

“I guess not.”
Troy
laughed. “So, let’s talk about your proposed estate, Jason. The prelim drawings are at my office but I think I can give you a good idea of what it’ll be.”

* * *

Missy called at mid-afternoon. “Hi, Paige. I haven’t had a chance to talk to you for days. How’s it going?”

“Okay, Missy. How was your date with Tom?”

“Fabulous. I think he really likes me. And he’s so handsome now.”

“Tom handsome? I can’t imagine that.”

“You’ve got to see him to believe him. Anyway, we’re going out again this weekend. Would you like to double-date?”

“With whom?”

“How about
Troy
?”

“How about, you’ve got to be crazy. Why would I go anywhere with him?”

“I don’t know, Paige. Maybe to keep that other woman from getting her hooks into him. Just forget it, will you?”

“That’s easy. Have fun, Missy. Let me know how it goes.”

* * *

The mid-week edition was ready to go, so Paige drifted out onto the street. Unaccustomed to having time on her hands, she went to the downtown café for coffee. After dawdling for the better part of an hour, she decided to go on home.

When she stepped around the corner to her car, Steve Carlson stood beside it with a big smile. He said, “Hi, there. I was hoping you’d come by.”

“Hello, Dr. Carlson.”

“Please call me Steve. You’re looking especially lovely this afternoon, Paige.”

If he only knew how lovely she felt.
Not!
“Why, thank you. Did you want something in particular?”

“Only to spend some time with you, if you’re not too busy.” His eyes sparkled. “I thought you might like to hear some of the wild stories of my environmental quests.”

Oh, spare me. What you really want is sex. With me or anyone who’ll give in to you.

He said, “Of course, if you’re on an important story, I can talk to you some other time.”

“No. I’m done with this week’s issue. Finished early, as a matter of fact. Would you like to have coffee?”

“Tea would be even nicer. Do they have herbal tea around these parts?”

She smiled. “I think we can round up a good cup of green tea at the café. I was just there but let’s go back. It’s cool inside and pretty quiet this time of day.”

The clock showed that Carlson had talked non-stop for over an hour. He’d blocked a nuclear site, saved at least a dozen ridiculous creatures, the names of which she’d never remember past bedtime. He’d taught scores of young women how to go into the wild to search out helpless animals. Aggie was his prize pupil to hear him tell it.