Wild About the Wrangler (27 page)

Although she'd tried like hell not to miss him, she still did. He might be impatient with her if he knew how much she still longed to be in his arms at night. Yet that was a hopeless fantasy. Her work was here and he would hate living in the middle of a big city.

Georgie had called her the previous night to ask if she could make it home for Thanksgiving. No trail rides had been scheduled for that weekend, and the town had decided to have a community dinner at Sadie's so they could celebrate the revival of Bickford. Anastasia had told Georgie she'd think about it.

The plane fare would be outrageous at this late date, but she had the money. Her hesitation was all about Mac. Much as she wanted to see everyone, including him, it was bound to be awkward. Maybe she'd wait until Christmas, after they'd both had more time to get over each other.

That decision made, she walked into her little cubicle and found on her computer a Post-it from Kathryn, who wanted to see her first thing this morning. She left her messenger bag on the desk and headed off to Kathryn's lavish office. The receptionist buzzed her in immediately.

Glancing up from her computer, Kathryn smiled. “Hey, there. How are you?”

“I'm good, really good. Those sketches you wanted should be done in—”

“I'm not worried about the sketches. You always meet your deadlines. Have a seat. I wanted to ask about something else.”

“Sure.” Anastasia treasured the easy relationship she had with Kathryn. They'd bonded from the beginning and that connection had only grown stronger.

“When I first met you, I was struck by the sparkle in your eyes and lately I don't see it so much. Are we working you too hard?”

“Heavens, no. I love it here.”

“I'm glad, but I can't shake the feeling that something's not right in your world. I realize I'm getting personal, but I miss that sparkle.”

Anastasia stared at her as she wrestled with her thoughts. Kathryn was more perceptive than she'd given her credit for. Talking about the issue wouldn't change anything, but if Kathryn had picked up on it, then she deserved an explanation.

“I left someone in Texas I really care about.” She paused to take a deep breath. “But we agreed it had to end. I'm not quite over him, I guess. I'm working on it.”

Compassion shone in Kathryn's eyes. “There's no chance he'd move here?”

“None. He'd be miserable in L.A. He's bought a cute little house in Bickford, and that's where he belongs. He's a cowboy and he needs the wide-open spaces.”

“And you love him.”

“Yes.”

“And he loves you enough to let you go so that you can follow your dream.”

“Yes.” Anastasia's throat hurt but she was not going to break down in Kathryn's office.

“Do you realize how rare that is?”

She swallowed. “Kind of.”

“Anastasia, you're a special person and it sounds as if you've found another special person who loves you. Why are you working so hard to get over him?”

“Because we can't be together!” Maybe Kathryn wasn't so perceptive, after all.

“Of course you can. You're so creative that I'm amazed you haven't applied that creativity to this situation. I can help by freeing up your schedule. Pack more hours into four days so you can take three off and fly back to be with him. Some projects you might even be able to work on remotely from Bickford.”

“I could?”

“Absolutely. You have an incredible work ethic so I know you'll get the projects finished. You'll spend a lot on airfare, but what's money for, anyway?”

Anastasia sat in stunned silence as the possibilities unfolded like a flower in her mind. She could be with Mac.
She could be with Mac.

“Oh, Anastasia. Your sparkle is back.”

S
omething was going on. Mac wasn't sure what, but Georgie and Vince were involved in whatever it was and they weren't talking. He had a bad feeling that they planned to embarrass him with some kind of speech of gratitude during the Thanksgiving celebration at Sadie's.

Hell, he knew they were grateful for his help in teaching Anastasia to ride. They'd told him so about a million times. But maybe that wasn't enough for them and they'd make some public announcement proclaiming him a prince among men or some such hogwash.

The possibility nearly made him consider not going, but he didn't want to miss the fun. Ida had come up with the idea of this feast in honor of the town's economic recovery and she was paying for all the food. She'd also asked Mac and Travis to sit on either side of her and treat her like a queen. They were both looking forward to that.

Ida deserved his best outfit, so he'd worn his black Western shirt, his best jeans, and the black hat he saved for special occasions like this one. Inevitably she'd make outrageous comments about how handsome he looked, but he'd just about learned how to handle her compliments without blushing.

Smiling as he thought about sharing this dinner with Ida and the rest of the town, he walked into Sadie's, glanced around, and nearly passed out. Anastasia stood in the far corner talking to Georgie and Vince. Adrenaline sent his heart into overdrive.

Damn it, they should have warned him. If that's what they'd been so secretive about, he didn't appreciate it. Anastasia must have been in on the surprise, too.

She'd spotted him and was coming over. He had half a mind to leave, but then he'd look like he couldn't handle seeing her. He'd be seen as a coward. So he stood his ground, but his nerves were stretched tighter than a rope on a wild horse.

At least she seemed to be in the same condition. She didn't smile or anything. “Let's go outside.”

“Good idea.” He was amazed he'd been able to speak. He held the door for her and breathed in her scent as she walked past. It made him light-headed, and he had to concentrate as he put one foot in front of the other.

She led him around to the side of the building, the same place they'd had their big argument. Turning back toward him, she took a deep breath. “I love you.”

“So what?” Suddenly angry, he had no control of his words. “I love you, too! Which means nothing if we can't . . .” He trailed off because she was smiling. That made no sense.

“But we can.”

“You're not quitting. I've had reports from Georgie. She told me you're crazy about that job. I don't care if you love me. That job is perfect for you, and I—”

“I'm not quitting. But Kathryn came up with this idea, a flexible schedule so I can be here a lot. Pretty much, half the time. You work weekends, so I will, too. Midweek, I can be here for three days, sometimes longer.”

He blinked. Then he scrubbed both hands over his face. This moment felt real, but it was way too good to be true. “Say that again.”

“I'll be flying back here on a regular basis, so I can—”

“Won't that cost a lot of money?”

“It will, but I don't care. I love you. Being with you is what's important. I don't spend all the money I make, anyway. I might as well use it for airfare.”

“I'm so afraid I'm dreaming this.”

“I don't blame you.” She stepped closer. “I've had several days to think about it and I'm only just now starting to believe it's possible.”

“Why didn't you call me and tell me about this conversation with Kathryn?”

“I considered it, but I decided it would be way better if I told you in person, because then . . . but maybe I should have . . .”

He got it. “Because then we could do this.” He drew her into his arms. “And this.” Tipping back his hat, he lowered his mouth to hers. Her warm lips and total surrender convinced him this wasn't a dream. He was rocketed back to that moment in the canyon when she'd kissed him this way, all the while telling him without words that she loved him.

He'd known then no one would ever take her place in his heart. He'd accepted the truth of that and had vowed to live with it, no matter how painful it might be. Now he wouldn't have to give her up.

This kiss had been a long time in the making, and he wasn't in the mood to end it anytime soon. She seemed as eager to continue as he was. So when someone tapped him on the shoulder, he motioned them away.

Whoever it was apparently couldn't take a hint. Instead there was much throat clearing and then another tap on his shoulder, harder this time.

It had better not be Travis. Mac reluctantly raised his head and turned toward the intruder.

Ida stood there smiling at him. “Does this mean you won't be sitting next to me at dinner?”

“Yes, ma'am, I'm afraid it does.”

“Well, good! It's about damn time you two figured this out. I told you she had a crush on you!”

Anastasia smiled. “And you were right.”

“I'll just go on inside and tell everyone you're smooching out here and not to wait dinner.” She turned to leave.

Anastasia glanced up at him. “We can go in if you'd rather not have her make that announcement.”

“Oh, no, I want her to make it. I'm proud to be out here smooching with you. But if you want to go in . . .”

“Not on your life, cowboy. Smooching with you is my favorite thing to do.”

He lifted his eyebrows. “Really?”

“Okay, second favorite. But if we end up doing my favorite thing, we'll miss dinner and I think we should attend. It's an important celebration.”

“It is, but I wouldn't want to make a liar out of Ida Harrington. Come here.” And he recaptured the sweetest mouth he'd ever had the privilege to kiss.

Read on to catch up on the first book in Vicki Lewis Thompson's Sexy Texans series,

CRAZY FOR THE COWBOY

Available from Signet Eclipse.

“S
omebody should take a paintbrush to Sadie's left nipple.” Vince Durant studied the six-by-ten mural on the far wall of Sadie's Saloon as he sipped his beer. “It's chipped.”

A well-endowed nude reclined on a red velvet piece of Victorian furniture that he thought was called a fainting couch. Rumor had it that a local woman named Sadie had posed for the mural, but because the painting was more than a century old, the rumor was unconfirmed.

“Sadie's not the only thing needing a little TLC around here.” Ike Plunkett was still behind the bar, which was reassuring.

Vince remembered Ike from four years ago, and although the bartender's hair was a little thinner and his glasses a little thicker, he looked virtually the same. That couldn't be said for the town of Bickford, though. Except for the general store and this historic hotel, the place was pretty much dead.

Come to think of it, he'd seen no evidence that anyone else was staying at the hotel besides him and the two friends who hadn't arrived yet. Even more troubling, the saloon was deserted, and that wasn't normal for a Friday afternoon. At the end of the day, cowboys in the Texas Panhandle enjoyed sipping a cold one. “I never realized how much the town depended on the Double J.”

“I don't think any of us did until it was gone.”

“You'd think by now somebody would have reopened it.” Vince wouldn't mind working there again. Turned out he was good at wrangling greenhorns.

“Can't.” Ike used a bar rag to wipe down the whiskey bottles lined up beneath an ornate mirror behind the bar. “Somebody torched it, probably for the insurance, and the land's tied up in a big legal hassle.”

“Sorry to hear that.” Vince polished off his beer and signaled for another. He was thirsty after the long drive from Fort Worth.

“Not half as sorry as we are.”

“No, probably not.” But he
was
sorry, and disappointed, too. He'd talked his buddies Mac Foster and Travis Langdon into having a reunion, figuring they could party in Bickford like they had during the three years they'd all worked for the Double J Guest Ranch. “I don't suppose you have live music this weekend?”

“We haven't had a band in here for a long time. Can't afford to pay 'em.”

“That's depressing.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Oh, well. At least you have beer.” Vince lifted his bottle in the direction of the mural. “And Sadie! After a few of these, I might decide to repaint her nipple myself.”

The street door opened with the squeak of an unoiled hinge and Vince turned to see if Mac or Travis had come straight into the saloon instead of stopping by the hotel desk to check in like he had.

His smile of welcome faltered when Georgina Bickford walked through the door. He took some comfort in noticing that she seemed as disoriented by his presence as he was by hers. That made no sense, really. It wasn't like they had a history, although he'd tried his damnedest to create one.

His fabled charm hadn't worked on her and she'd never gone out with him. Maybe that was why he'd thought of her so often since then. She was the one girl he'd never been able to impress.

She didn't look particularly impressed to see him now, either. “Hello, Vince.”

“Hello, Georgie.” He remembered that cool voice of hers, but at least she hadn't forgotten his name. After four years, that said something. He wasn't convinced it said something positive, though. A name could stick in a person's mind for both good reasons and bad.

“I'm surprised to see you here.” She approached slowly, as if he had yellow caution tape draped around his barstool. “Just passing through?”

“Not exactly.” He thumbed back his hat so he could see her better. She'd gotten prettier, but she'd always been great to look at, with her big brown eyes and honey-colored hair. When he'd first started working at the Double J, he'd asked around and had learned that she'd left college to run the general store after her dad died. He'd tried to be friendly, but she'd never given him the time of day.

She frowned. “If you're looking for work, there's not much to be had, I'm afraid.”

“So I gather.” He hesitated. Oh, what the hell? “Can I buy you a drink?”

“No, thank you.”

Shot down again, damn it.

“Georgie's first drink is always on the house.” Ike sent a glance of compassion Vince's way as he placed a glass of red wine on the bar. “All of the council members get one free drink per day. Bickford Hotel policy. It's the least we can do when they have such a thankless job.”

“You're on the town council?” Then he wished he hadn't sounded so surprised. “I mean, I'm sure you're well-qualified and all. I just . . .”

She appeared to take pity on him. “It's okay. I'm the youngest member, but I also run the second biggest revenue producer in town, so it's logical for me to be on the council.” She smiled. “It wasn't a tough race. No one ran against me.”

Hey, a smile. Progress.

“They wouldn't have dared run against you,” Ike said. “What can I get you from the kitchen?”

“Does Henry have any barbecued pork back there?”

“I believe he does.”

“Then a barbecued pork sandwich would be great. Thanks, Ike.”

The bartender glanced at Vince. “Want to order some food? We still have Henry Blaylock cooking for us. Don't know if you remember, but he's terrific.”

“I do remember Henry's food. Good stuff. But I'll wait for Mac and Travis to get here before I order.”

“Fair enough.” Ike opened the hinged section of the bar and walked back toward the kitchen.

“Mac and Travis?” Georgie picked up her wineglass but remained standing beside the bar instead of hopping up on a stool. “The same Mac and Travis who used to work for the Double J?”

“You have a good memory.” She hadn't dated those old boys, either. Vince, Mac, and Travis had been the cutups of the group, and Georgie didn't approve of cutups. She'd made that clear soon after they'd met, and he doubted that she'd changed.

She took a sip of her wine. “Are you having some kind of Double J reunion?”

“In a way, but it's just the three of us.”

Her brown eyes lit with curiosity. “And you're meeting here, in Bickford?”

“That's the plan.” He liked her haircut, which was a little shorter than he remembered. It used to hang past her shoulders, but now it was chin length. The new cut made her look more sophisticated. Sexier.

“Why meet here?”

He shrugged. “It's where we used to hang out, but I didn't realize the place had gone . . . uh, that it's not the same.”

“If you were about to say it's gone to hell in a hand-basket, you'd be on target. If you want to have a fun time, y'all might want to head somewhere else. Go on up to Amarillo, maybe.”

“It'll be okay.” He didn't remember her being quite so curvy the last time he'd seen her. She filled out the Bickford General Store's hunter-green T-shirt, although he was careful not to be caught ogling. He'd noticed that her jeans fit mighty nice, too. Not that it made any difference whether she was a knockout or not. She hadn't changed regarding him. She showed no interest whatsoever.

“I can't imagine what you'll find to do around here,” she said. “Sadie's doesn't heat up like it used to on the weekend. Anastasia and I might be the last two single women under thirty in Bickford.”

“What about Charmaine?” Seven years ago, when he was a new hire at the Double J, Georgie's stepsisters had been too young to go out dancing at Sadie's, but Charmaine, the older one, had snuck in one time and Georgie had marched her back home.

“She's working in Dallas. She'd party with you if she could, but she isn't here, and Anastasia's not into that. Besides, even if she was, there's no live music anymore.”

“Yeah, Ike said it wasn't in the budget. No worries. I haven't seen Mac and Travis since we left the Double J. Maybe it's better this way. We can drink beer and catch up.”

“For the entire weekend?” She sounded skeptical.

“Well, no. We'll do that at night, but during the day we'll head out and round up the Ghost. Ike says he's still—”

“You most certainly will not!” She set her wineglass down with a sharp
click
and faced him, sparks of anger in her eyes. “Don't y'all dare go out there and harass that poor horse for your own amusement!”

He blinked in confusion. The dappled gray stallion and his small band of wild horses used to be fair game, a challenge for the cowboys who worked at the Double J. Vince and his buddies hadn't succeeded in roping him, mostly because they'd never been able to devote an entire weekend to the project. Now they could.

But Georgie was obviously ready to rip him a new one on the subject of the wild stallion. “There is no reason on God's green earth why you should go after him! He's not hurting anything, especially now that so few horses live in the area. Back when the Double J was in operation, I admit he tried to raid the corral a couple of times, but those days are over. There are four horses boarded at Ed's stable, and they're all geldings. No mares. The Ghost leaves us alone and we leave him alone!”

“But—”

“Is that why you decided to rendezvous here? To go after that stallion?”

“Partly, yeah. We always talked about capturing him, but we never did. Now seems as good a time as any.”

Her eyes glittered in defiance. “You won't find him.”

“Oh, I think we will. We have two whole days to look.”

Ike returned from the kitchen, and Georgie wheeled on him. “Did you tell Vince that the Ghost was still out there?”

Ike shrugged. “He asked. I wasn't going to lie to the man.”

“Are you aware that Vince and his two cohorts are heading out on some macho quest to rope him?”

“I didn't know that.” Ike looked at Vince. “You might want to reconsider. Georgie takes a special interest in those wild horses.”

Crap.
First he'd discovered that the town was deader than a doornail, and now Georgie Bickford was raining all over his wild-horse roundup. Maybe she was right and they should take this party elsewhere, but he'd craved the small-town experience and he wouldn't get that in Amarillo or Lubbock.

Mac and Travis chose that moment to walk into the saloon. They'd shared a ride here because they both worked at a ranch outside Midland. They sauntered in with wide grins as if they owned the place. Vince left his barstool and went over to greet them. Much joking around and backslapping followed. Vince couldn't believe how happy he was to see those old boys. Until they arrived, he'd been outnumbered.

Mac and Travis tipped their hats and said hello to Georgie, who replied without smiling.

“So where is everybody?” Mac glanced around. “Hey, Georgie. What's happened to this place?”

“We're experiencing an economic downturn.” Georgie's jaw tightened. “I suggest you three mosey on to a place that's more suited to your needs.”

“Nah, we don't need to do that,” Travis said. “I assume Sadie's still serves beer.”

“We do,” Ike said.

“Then we're in business.” Travis walked over to the bar and shook hands with Ike. “Good to see you. I'll have a longneck, like always.”

“And I'll take my usual draft.” Mac sat on a stool next to him.

“Coming up.” Ike looked nervous, but he busied himself getting the beer.

Georgie cleared her throat. “I understand y'all are planning to round up the Ghost this weekend.”

Mac nodded. “Yes, ma'am, we sure are. Isn't that right, Vince?”

For a split second Vince considered telling Mac there'd been a change of plans. Then his rebellious streak surfaced. By God, he'd organized this adventure and he'd see it through. There was no law against chasing after that horse. He met Georgie's flinty gaze. “That's right, Mac.”

Georgie's mouth thinned. “Over my dead body.”

Vince admired her spirit. He always had. But he couldn't let her get the upper hand.

“Don't go sacrificing yourself like that, darlin'.”

She balled her hands into fists. “Do
not
call me—”

“I promise we won't hurt those horses one tiny bit.” He turned to his partners in crime. “Isn't that right, boys?”