Crazy For the Cowboy (4 page)

“I'm glad they were appreciative.” Georgie had to admit that Vince and his friends had shown the proper consideration for the people who'd willingly provided them whatever they'd wanted. Now if they'd only extend that consideration to the herd of wild horses, she'd be thrilled.

Anastasia, her jet-black hair pulled back into a no-nonsense ponytail, came in at noon and brought Georgie some lunch. Typical of her, she hadn't heard anything about three cowboys coming to town and partying until the wee small hours in Sadie's Saloon.

After Georgie filled her in, she shrugged. “So?”

“I wouldn't care about it, either, except they'd planned to ride out today and rope the Ghost.”

“Oh!” Anastasia's hazel eyes widened. “You didn't say
that.
They can't capture him. That's just wrong.”

“I know.” Georgie dug into the bowl of warm chili Anastasia had brought. “Thanks for this. It tastes great.”

“And stupid.”

“No, it doesn't taste stupid. You make wonderful chili.”

Anastasia waved an impatient hand. “I meant capturing the Ghost is stupid. And mean. Where are these guys, anyway? I want to talk to them.”

“Probably still sleeping it off. According to Ed at the stable, they walked down there before seven this morning to pay him and cancel the ride. He said they looked like death warmed over.”

“Serves them right. They're not welcome here if all they can think to do is get drunk and chase after those horses.”

“Unfortunately they are welcome here.” But Georgie's heart warmed at her stepsister's loyalty to the Ghost and his herd. “They're bringing in money that everyone needs. Ed got paid, even though the horses didn't go out, and Raina said Ike had an awesome night of tips. The hotel has three guests who'll be spending more money before they leave town. We can't afford to turn our nose up at any of that.”

“I guess not.” She brightened. “If they go out, they might not find them. From what you've said, the Ghost is a tricky character.”

“He is, at that. He—” The bell jangled as the door to the store opened. She quickly shoved her chili bowl under the counter as Vince walked in looking as if he'd somewhat recovered from his drinking bout. He'd obviously shaved and showered, and although his expression was a little drawn, his gaze was steady.

She wondered why he was here, but she was determined to be more polite than she had been last evening. She had to remember that he was bringing money into the town. He might even plan to spend some in her store. “Good afternoon, Vince.”

Anastasia had turned when the bell had jingled. She walked forward and stuck out her hand. “I'm Anastasia Bickford, Georgie's sister.”

“I remember you. I'm Vince Durant.” He smiled as he shook her hand. “You were a teenager when I first got here, and then you went off to art school.”

“Yep. Now I help Georgie in the store.”

“I'm sure she appreciates that.”

“I'm not the handiest person around. But I try.”

Georgie felt a rush of love for Anastasia, whose artist's soul couldn't quite grasp mundane tasks but was brilliant at translating reality into light-filled watercolors and realistic charcoal portraits. Unfortunately she hadn't been doing that much since returning from art school. Georgie sensed it was a private matter and was reluctant to pry.

She returned her attention to Vince. “Is there something you need?”

“A new packet of razors. Mine's dull as a table knife.”

Georgie looked closer and noticed a little bit of dried blood on his chin. That was usually caused by a sharp blade, not a dull one, but she wouldn't argue if he wanted to spend money in her store. “The aisle on your left, about halfway down.” She gestured in the direction of the toiletries.

“I'll show you.” Anastasia led the way.

Georgie watched in amusement and wondered what her sister was up to. She heard Anastasia's low, intense murmurs as they stood together in the aisle containing men's toiletries, but her words weren't distinct enough to make out.

They returned to the counter and Georgie rang up his purchase.

Vince glanced around. “The store looks good.”

“Fortunately the people in town still shop here for most things instead of driving to Amarillo, so I do okay. Not like before, but okay.”

Vince hesitated. “For what it's worth, I'm sorry the town has fallen on hard times. Bickford's a nice place. I'd . . . I'd like to see it prosper.”

She didn't want to be touched by his sincerity, but she couldn't help it. She loved this town and hated seeing it going downhill. “Thanks.”

“Well, guess I'll get back to the hotel and see how my buddies are doing.” He picked up the package of razors.

“Don't forget what I told you,” Anastasia said.

Vince's mouth twitched. “Oh, I won't. I doubt I'll ever forget that. See you both later.” He walked out of the store with a loose-hipped stride.

For a brief moment Georgie was caught up in the masculine appeal of that stride and the width of those broad shoulders. She understood now why that was—she was a woman who'd denied her sexual needs for too long. Vince in particular hadn't snagged her attention, but seeing him reminded her that all men weren't balding and middle-aged.

“That should take care of that,” Anastasia said.

Georgie looked at her sister. “Take care of what?”

“The problem with the horses.”

“Why? What did you tell him?”

“That the Ghost has turned into a dangerous renegade with a terrible temper.”

“He has not! He's a sweetheart. Well, I assume he is. I haven't been up close and personal, but he's definitely shy.”

Anastasia continued as if Georgie hadn't spoken. “I said he almost trampled the last person who tried to capture him and any man who goes after him must have a death wish.”

“Anastasia! None of that's true!”

“I know.” She grinned. “But Vince has been gone for several years. He doesn't know that.”

CHAPTER 4

V
ince waited until he'd walked a fair distance from the general store before giving way to laughter. He didn't want Anastasia to know how miserably she'd failed to intimidate him. That would be mean.

He was still chuckling when he walked into Sadie's and discovered his two buddies sitting at a table looking much better than they had a few hours ago. The brims of their hats were tipped back. This morning they'd been pulled down to shield their bloodshot eyes.

They'd both shaved and Mac had ditched the sweatshirt in favor of a chambray button-up. They were even taking nourishment. Instead of beer, each of them had a mug of coffee to go with his sandwich. They were the only two people in the saloon besides Ike, who was at his post behind the bar.

“Hey, Ike, sorry to keep you so late last night,” Vince called to him as he pulled out a chair at Mac and Travis's table.

“No problem. I slept in. And thanks for your generosity.”

“It's the least we could do.”

“Want something to eat?”

As he sat down, Vince surveyed what his friends had. “What'd you two get?”

“We both ordered the chicken salad,” Travis said around a mouthful. “Excellent.”

“Works for me.” Vince glanced in Ike's direction. “I'll take a chicken salad sandwich and some coffee, if you don't mind.”

“Coming up.”

“You're looking perky,” Mac said. “What's so funny?”

“Do either of you remember Anastasia, Georgie's little sister?”

Mac picked up the remaining half of his sandwich. “Not really. I remember the other one, Charmaine, the blonde. She was hot.”

“I remember Anastasia,” Travis said. “A little plump, but pretty. She was in the ice-cream parlor one day when I went in. She was working hard to sketch the sundae she'd ordered before it melted. Doing a damned good job of it, too.”

Ike arrived with a steaming mug of coffee and put it beside Vince. “Your order will be up in a jiffy.”

“Thanks, Ike.” Vince took a sip of the hot brew. Sadie's served great coffee.

“So what about Anastasia?” Travis pointed to the package of razors Vince had laid on the table when he'd arrived. “Obviously you made a trip to the general store. Was she there?”

“She was, and apparently she's as creative with storytelling as she is drawing pictures. You should've heard the whopper she told me about the Ghost. I had a tough time keeping a straight face.”

Travis picked up his coffee and took a sip. “What'd she say?”

“That the Ghost had turned into some kind of devil horse that was out to kill any man who tried to rope him.” Remembering Anastasia's dramatic warning had him grinning again.

“Maybe he has,” Travis said. “Like in that book,
The Horse Whisperer.
At the end the stallion kills the guy.”

“He does?” Mac sighed. “That's disappointing.”

Travis glanced at him. “Why?”

“Because you loaned me that book.”

“I did? I wondered who had it.”

“I do, doofus, and you didn't mention anything about the guy dying at the end. I was into it, but I don't want to finish it if that happens. I don't like endings where the main character gets whacked.”

“Then watch the movie, instead,” Vince said. “He doesn't die in the movie.”

“Maybe I'll do that. And next time—” Mac paused while Ike delivered Vince's sandwich. Then he picked up where he left off. “Next time, Travis, don't give me books where somebody dies at the end. I hate that.”

Travis smiled. “I didn't know you were such a wuss.”

“I'm not! I can read any scary thing you throw at me, as long as the main guy is alive at the end. He can be bloodied up some, but he has to be alive.” Mac gave Travis a belligerent stare.

“Okay, Mr. I-require-a-happy-ending, I'll keep that in mind. But my point was that Anastasia could be telling the truth. It sometimes happens, you know?”

“It's not the truth.” Vince picked up half of his sandwich. “She just wants to scare us out of rounding him up. I'm sure Georgie's told her about our plan and she's trying to do her part to discourage us.” He took a bite of what turned out to be delicious chicken salad.

Mac hunkered down and lowered his voice. “Listen, Travis and I were talking earlier, and we both think we should forget about doing it.”

Vince quickly chewed and swallowed. “No, we should not.” He should never have left those two alone while he went to the general store. They could lose focus so easily. “We have a plan and we need to stick to the plan.”

“Yeah, but Travis and I got to thinking. Suppose we rope him. Then what? I can't believe you want to try and lead him all the way back to town. Nobody around here wants to deal with him.”

Vince decided against revealing his fantasy of parading the Ghost down Main Street because Mac was right. That wasn't the best idea in the world. “We take a picture to prove we roped him,” he said.

“Take a picture with what?” Travis asked. “We don't have camera phones.”

“We'll buy a disposable at the general store.” Vince was making it up as he went along. In actuality he hadn't thought much about what would happen after they'd captured the Ghost. He'd never been much for long-range thinking. He was more of a spur-of-the-moment kind of guy.

“That's a lot of effort to go through for a damned picture,” Mac said. “Especially when it's obvious Georgie and her sister are dead-set against us doing it.”

“That's the very reason we should do it.” Vince wasn't about to see his concept unravel just because Mac and Travis were losing their enthusiasm for it. “We can't let Georgie Bickford push us around.”

Mac looked him in the eye. “Travis and I can. But then, we're not the ones with an ax to grind when it comes to Georgie.”

“I don't have an ax to grind.”

“She's the one who got away,” Travis said. “You never forget the one who got away.”

“That's bullshit. Georgie's nothing to me. I just don't like the idea of her dictating what I can and can't do.” He bit off a good-sized chunk of his sandwich. While he chewed and swallowed, he caught Mac and Travis exchanging a look. “I suppose you think I have a thing for her.”

Mac pushed away his empty plate. “Consider the evidence. You're the one who wanted to get together here in Bickford. Why?”

“Because it's where we used to hang out. It had nothing to do with Georgie. As I mentioned earlier, she could have gotten married or moved away.”

“And the only way for you to check on that was to come here in person. But you needed your posse with you.” Travis picked up his last potato chip. “Case closed.” He popped the chip in his mouth.

“That isn't how it was.” But telltale warmth crept up Vince's neck. He concentrated on eating his sandwich while he gathered his thoughts.

Hell, if what they said was true, he hadn't even admitted it to himself. He thought back to when he'd come up with this idea. He'd wanted to see Bickford again and have some fun at Sadie's. Finally rounding up the Ghost after all these years had seemed like an excellent adventure for the three of them, something they could brag about over drinks at the saloon afterward.

But now that his friends had brought up Georgie, he realized that his most vivid memories of Bickford and this saloon included her. On the few Saturday nights she hadn't made it to Sadie's, the fun had gone right out of the evening for him. He also used to dream up reasons to shop at the general store, a habit he'd never questioned until now. He'd done it again today. He could have managed without that package of razors.

Yesterday when she'd walked in, he'd checked her ring finger. He'd tried to buy her a drink. He couldn't sidestep the truth of what his friends were saying. His motivation for coming here had been connected, either a little or a whole lot, to Georgie. How humiliating that they'd figured it out before he had.

Finally he'd run out of food and couldn't delay the discussion any longer. He appreciated the fact that Mac and Travis had remained silent while he faced a few unpleasant realizations. Good friends did that for a guy.

Glancing up from his plate, he spoke quietly. “Number one, anything said at this table never gets repeated. I don't care how drunk either of you are; you keep it zipped.”

Mac grinned. “Could you be more specific? I'll keep my mouth shut, but I make no promises about—”

“Keep everything zipped, nimrod. Georgie's off-limits and Anastasia's not your type.”

“You don't know that.”

“I do know that. I saw her less than an hour ago, and she is so not your type.”

Travis looked hopeful. “Is she my type? By my calculations she's about twenty-three now. That makes her only a few years younger than me. Besides, I always liked her name.”

Vince shook his head. “She's not your type because you're leaving tomorrow and she's a nice girl, not the kind you get involved with and then cut out on.”

“Vince is right, and not just for that reason,” Mac said. “You're coming off a bad breakup, so nobody's your type until you get your shit together.”

Travis winced. “So I did spill my guts last night. I was afraid of that.”

“Yeah, but that's not going anywhere, either.” Vince kept his tone businesslike. Travis wouldn't appreciate sympathy.

“Definitely not.” Mac sounded equally brisk. “We do, however, have a matter on the table that needs addressing. Are we going to go after that horse or not?”

Vince glanced toward the bar and noticed that Ike wasn't there. Maybe he'd gone back to the kitchen for some reason, which was lucky, because Vince didn't want him hearing this. “Let me explain before Ike comes back. The bottom line is, I can't allow Georgie to think she got the better of me on this deal.”

Mac groaned. “Why can't you just let it go?”

“Because I can't, that's all. Let's just ride out first thing in the morning and find the herd. That's not so much to ask. We don't have to rope the Ghost, but I want to lay eyes on him one last time. I want to be able to say I did that much.”

“I can understand that,” Travis said. “You want to save face. God knows I understand the value of saving face.”

“I guess I do, too,” Mac said. “So we'll get up at the crack of dawn and do this damn thing.”

“Which means no tequila shots tonight.” Travis narrowed his eyes at both of them. “A few beers, okay, but don't either of you talk me into tequila shots.”

Vince nodded. “Mac and I discussed that earlier. Just beer. We'll play a little poker with the old guys and hit the hay.”

Travis pushed back his chair. “In the meantime, I think I'll take a walk around town, check things out.”

“I'll go with you.” Mac tucked his napkin beside his plate and reached for his wallet. “Just in case you were considering a visit to the general store to renew your acquaintance with Anastasia Bickford.”

“Who says I was planning to do that?”

“Me. I saw that look in your eye. You're remembering the cute teenager and imagining how hot she might be now. I intend to save you from yourself. Vince, want to come along?”

“Nah. I was just there. I'll take a nap and rest up for the poker game.”

“Good idea.” Mac smiled. “I suppose it wouldn't be cool for you to wander into Georgie's store twice in the space of a couple of hours. She might get the wrong idea.”

“Or the right idea.” Travis dropped some money on the table. “See you later, lover boy.”

“Cut it out. It's a dead issue because she has no interest in me. All I want is to leave town with my pride intact.”

“We'll help you find that horse,” Travis said, “but keeping your pride is a one-man job. You're in charge of that.”

“Just help me come within spitting distance of him. I'll handle the rest.”

Mac eyed him. “You really are planning to rope him, aren't you?”

“I haven't decided yet.”

“It's a bad idea, Vince.”

“We'll see.”

Mac adjusted the fit of his Stetson. “You think on it while I go babysit Travis and Anastasia.”

“I will.” Vince sipped the last of his coffee as he watched them leave the saloon. If Georgie really had been his main focus, he could have driven to Bickford anytime in the past four years.

But Travis was right that he wouldn't have risked coming by himself with no excuse for the visit other than to see how she was doing. Bickford wasn't on a main road. People didn't pass through town on their way to either Amarillo or Lubbock, which was another reason the town was in financial trouble. If you arrived in Bickford, then that had been your destination from the get-go.

Apparently it had taken him this long to come up with a logical reason to travel here. His reason might be flimsy as hell, but the reunion and the Ghost had been better than nothing. And he'd needed his wingmen.

So far he'd confirmed that Georgie was as indifferent to him as she'd ever been. He could have accepted that more easily if he'd found her in high cotton, living her dream in beautiful downtown Bickford. Instead she was facing the potential end of the town she loved.

He assumed her ancestors had settled the place, but he'd never asked. If so, then her loyalty to the town probably ran deep. He'd never felt that way about any place he'd lived. His folks had relocated a fair bit because his dad had worked in the oil fields and he'd traveled to where the jobs were. Moving around was what Vince did best.

Gathering up the plates and silverware, he carried them over to the bar, where Ike was taking inventory in preparation for tonight.

Ike glanced up from his list. “Thanks. You didn't have to bus the table.”

“Don't worry. I swiped the tips, too.”