by Susan Crosby
“I’d venture to say under normal circumstances I’d do that either way it turned out. These aren’t normal circumstances.”
He looked questioningly at her, as if she could change those circumstances, if she wanted.
She wanted. She just couldn’t. “So, how will I know if you won or lost?” she asked.
After a moment, he looked ahead. “You won’t.”
“You’ll keep it a secret.”
“That’s right.”
“Why?”
“Because some things are sacred, Margaret.”
“Poker winnings are sacred?” She laughed.
“Obviously you have no love of the game if you doubt that.”
“Oh, I’ve played a bit in my time.”
“Are you as good as you are at pool?”
She smiled.
“I sense a challenge in that smile,” he said.
“I’m pretty competitive.”
“I’ve noticed. Want to have a little race?” He pointed ahead. “To the rock that looks like a buffalo?”
She slanted him a look. “I figure you know you can win, hands down. You know these horses.”
“That would be cheating. I don’t cheat.”
She laughed. “Well, I’ll have to say no, thanks, anyway, because my contract forbids it. I can’t do more than trot, unless it’s while we’re filming.”
“They sure do think of everything.”
“Insurance is expensive.”
“When your film is done, then.”
“It’s a date. But I’m choosing my own horse.”
“You don’t trust me?”
“I’ve proven that already, cowboy. I trusted you with my secrets and my reputation.”
He turned in his saddle and gave her a long, heated look. “And your body.”
She caught her breath at his look—and discovered she didn’t have a response.
He did, however—a slow, sure, satisfied smile that seemed to say, “It’s just a matter of time.”
Chapter Ten
Tony had decided against replacing himself with hired help to move the cattle. No matter how efficient the hand was, Tony was still the boss, and he needed to see for himself how his herd was faring, especially the last month before he’d be sending the heifers to market. He knew every one of his cows personally, individually. People outside the business could never understand that, but it was true.
Another truth was he needed a break from Maggie. A week had passed since their ride. Tension was building nightly as they denied themselves physical release. It had become hard to imagine his life before he had met her. Was that only three weeks ago?
“I won’t smell too sweet when I return,” he said to her as she gathered her script pages from the bedside table. She was dressed and ready to head to the set. He was about to leave, too.
“I’ll be sure to get myself downwind of you,” she said.
“You learn fast.”
“Better believe it.” She came up to him, almost laid a hand on his chest, then dropped it. “It’s going to seem really strange around here without you.”
“Well, there is that little visit with my mother to keep you occupied.” He got a kick out of the way she tried to seem okay about entertaining his mother and sister for dinner tonight, but he knew she was nervous.
“Lucky for her that Sadie’s cooking,” Maggie said, trying to form a smile. “Can I give them all the info on flying to San Francisco next week for the wedding?”
“Sure. You behave yourself.”
“While the bull’s away…” She grinned.
“Uh-huh.” He took her hand, then they left the bedroom and headed to the front porch. Sadie joined them.
Butch came up the steps. “All set, boss.” He took Sadie into his arms and kissed her, a long, passionate kiss, then rubbed her belly. “Take care of our baby girl.”
“Hell, Butch, you’re leavin’ for four measly hours,” Tony said.
“Four hours?” Maggie repeated. “What do you mean?”
“Butch is hauling the trailer with our horses to where we’ll start off. It’d take all day to ride there. He’s coming right back home. Someone’s gotta oversee things here.”
“So, what’ll you be doing up there?”
“Riding circles around the pasture, mostly to close the gates that the recreationalists leave open. Seeing what fences need repairing. And move the cattle, of course.” He could see she was questioning why he had to go. “It’s my herd.”
“I know. I understand. How’s the cell phone reception?”
“There’s a couple of trees we can stand under that sometimes get reception.” He saw worry—or something—settle in her eyes. He didn’t want to read too much into it.
“How do we get in touch with you, if something comes up?” she asked.
“Butch’ll know how.”
He kissed her. Not as long or dramatically as Butch had kissed Sadie, but good enough for public consumption, although not good enough for personal satisfaction. “See you in a few days, darlin’. Don’t fret, okay? You have a good trip to San Francisco. Let’s go, Butch. You’re holdin’ us up.”
They’d almost reached the truck when Dino walked over.
“Everything good?” Tony asked.
“Nothing unexpected.”
“Okay. Don’t hesitate to have Butch track me down, if necessary.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Sorry. I know I don’t need to tell you how to do your job.”
“No, sir.”
Tony was grateful that Dino was there to watch over Maggie. She seemed oblivious to the strange vehicles that had made their way onto the property since she’d moved in. “And you’re going to San Francisco with her.”
“Yes. I’m leaving the rest of the crew in place, though. She hasn’t announced she’s going, so my hope is that she can fly in, do her business and fly out that night without calling attention to herself. If the crew here sticks to their routine, it’ll be a good diversion.”
“Do all movie stars need this kind of protection?”
“Depends. Some don’t keep security with them all the time. But Maggie’s a pretty easy target. Maybe I should show you some of the mail she gets, so you know what we’re always on the alert for.”
Would it always be like that? Tony wondered. Her whole life? What a way to live. “Yeah, gather some of that. I’d like to see it. You don’t show them to her?”
“Only if something looks like a real threat. It’s happened. She handles it well. Does what I tell her to. She’s been in the spotlight her whole life. She knows it comes with the territory.”
“Most people would rebel at some point.”
Dino smiled. “I would have thought you’d figured out by now that she’s not most people.”
“Touché.” He squeezed Dino’s shoulder. “Do you ever take a vacation?”
“Life with Maggie McShane is one constant vacation.”
He appreciated Dino’s dry wit. “Talk to you later.” He looked back at the house, but Maggie wasn’t on the porch. She couldn’t have left yet, since Dino would be driving her.
Tony ignored the twinge that she wasn’t there waving goodbye to him. Even if theirs was a true relationship, he wouldn’t expect her to be “the little woman.”
It was an entirely old-fashioned notion, and he was an entirely modern man.
Except all week he’d been fantasizing about her wearing a little white apron…
“Did my new clothes arrive?” Maggie asked Leesa when they got back to the ranch that evening.
“They’re in the back of the car. I asked the shopkeeper to press them and put them on hangers.”
“Good, thanks. How much time do I have before Sue-Ellen and Mary Beth arrive?”
“Half an hour.”
“Is that all? I need to hurry. Don’t want to keep them waiting. I’ll take a quick shower, if you’ll bring my new outfit.”
“You’ve met presidents and royalty with les
s anxiety,” Leesa commented.
“I know. It’s stupid. They were both so nice to me at the barbecue. But Tony was sitting next to me the whole time, too.” She rushed up the porch steps and into the house. She waved to Sadie, who was lighting candles in the living room. “Everything okay?”
“Right on schedule.”
Maggie walked backward toward the master suite. “Did Tony get up to the pasture okay?”
“Right on schedule.”
“Good. Are you sure you won’t join us for dinner?” Maggie asked hopefully. The more, the merrier, she’d thought. Anything to deflect attention. Even Leesa had excused herself.
Sadie laughed. “Sue-Ellen won’t make you feel uncomfortable,” she said. “She’s a true lady.”
“If you say so.”
“Now, Mary Beth, on the other hand…”
“Great. Thanks.” She heard Sadie laugh again.
Maggie rushed through her shower, applied light makeup, then slipped into her new long denim skirt and embroidered blouse. She’d bought dressier boots, and fastened a gorgeous silver-and-turquoise belt at her waist.
One might think you were entertaining a real mother-in-law, a little voice in her head said.
Women’s laughter drifted from the living room. Her guests had arrived. She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths, settling herself, trying to banish her guilt at marrying Tony when she knew it was temporary. She wished she could confide in his mother and sister so that they wouldn’t hate her when the truth came out, but she knew Tony would have a fit if she did that.
Why is it so important that everyone likes you?
The question ran through her head as she headed to greet the women. She’d been vaguely aware of her need for universal acceptance for a while, but particularly the past few weeks. It was more than honoring her parents and grandparents. It was a deep-down need. But why?
She stopped in her tracks. Maybe a more important question was why she hadn’t let Scott be the bad guy to the public? Was she looking to change her image? If so, why?
Because even though she hadn’t wanted to let Jenny down by canceling the wedding at The Taka San Francisco, they could have figured out something to make up for it. Some other significantly star-studded event to launch the hotel.
It came down to the reason why she’d agreed to marry Scott in the first place—she hungered for family and stability. But there had to be more to it than that. Maybe she should go into therapy and find out. Most of her friends in the business had at one point or another.
Maggie straightened her shoulders and stepped into the living room. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Thanks for being gracious enough to say yes when we invited ourselves,” Mary Beth said. “We figured we trapped you but good.”
“You invited. You figured,” Sue-Ellen said. “I only heard about it after she’d invited us. I hope you don’t feel pressured, Maggie.”
“Oh, no. Not at all.”
Sadie snickered.
“Much,” Maggie amended with a smile. “Would you like a glass of wine before dinner? I see Sadie’s made some wonderful appetizers.”
They settled on sofas in front of the coffee table with the food, a small spread of light hors d’oeuvres, the kind of things men would gripe about as being rabbit food.
Sue-Ellen passed Maggie a photo album she’d set on the table. “I thought you’d like to see pictures of Tony growing up.”
“Oh, I’d love to! Thank you for thinking of it.”
“I wanted to show you when you came for the barbecue, but Tony would’ve taken it away and hidden it forever. He was a cute little rascal, wasn’t he?”
“Adorable.” Maggie turned pages slowly. Two things jumped out at her. He wasn’t smiling in the pictures, so it wasn’t a recent thing with him. And in every family shot he stood off on his own a little, while the rest of the family gathered close.
“Stubborn cuss,” Sue-Ellen said. “Always did things his own way. Didn’t even talk until he had something to say.”
“What do you mean?”
“We couldn’t coax him to say words like Mama or Dada or any of the usual first words. Doctor checked his hearing, then said to leave him be, that he’d come around in his own time. He was right. When Tony was almost three, he said, ‘I’m hungry. When’s dinner?’ And that was the beginning.”
“Opened the floodgates,” Mary Beth said.
“Really? He talked a lot?”
“Hard to believe, huh? Then when he was about twelve, he stopped.”
“I don’t think Maggie needs all our family history just yet,” Sue-Ellen said, setting a hand on her daughter’s arm.
“Well, I’m interested, unless there’s some reason you can’t say,” Maggie said, seeing them exchange glances. “I don’t want to talk behind Tony’s back. Obviously I noticed he doesn’t talk a whole lot, but he says what’s necessary. And I like how he thinks.”
“The change in him happened overnight,” Sue-Ellen said. “We chalked it up to adolescence, but I’m thinking it was something else. I asked him. He wouldn’t say.”
Maggie turned a page and saw him at about age six or seven, sitting on a horse, looking serious and all cowboy, even then. “He completely stopped talking?”
“No. He started saying only what was necessary, as you called it. He’s like Hoyt that way,” Sue-Ellen said. “Not that Tony would like to hear that.”
Maggie wondered if she could ask questions about Tony’s relationship with his father then decided it would be disloyal. “I’m used to men who talk about themselves a lot,” she said, guiding the conversation down a slightly different path. “Tony doesn’t brag. I wouldn’t have known how many rodeo titles he’d won if I hadn’t seen his trophy case. And I use that term lightly, since it amounts to a simple glass cabinet hidden away in his office, not out where anyone could see it. I had no idea he started when he was seven.”
“Riding sheep,” Sue-Ellen said.
“I would’ve loved to have seen that.”
“Where do you keep your awards?” Mary Beth asked.
“I don’t have any, except for charitable work. Never been nominated, even. I’ve always done kind of lightweight stuff.”
“Do you want to do something else?”
“I think almost everyone in the arts wants to push themselves to do more, do better. To stretch. It’s easy to get into a rut and stay where it’s comfortable.” And she’d been in a rut for a while now. She’d enjoyed filming this particular movie because of Mac, a director she admired, but she found herself increasingly antsy with the whole hurry-up-and-wait process. Between scenes she’d go to her trailer, where Leesa would get after her for pacing and fidgeting, something she never did.
But she knew what prompted the change. She wanted to be at home. With Tony. She didn’t want to be on the set. She didn’t want to be kissing Rafe Valente, who used too much tongue and not enough finesse. She wanted Tony’s mouth, his taste, his heat, his intensity.
Maggie felt her face warming and quickly returned her focus to the photo album, which included newspaper clippings of his rodeo events, from age seven on. She encountered a blank page and looked at Sue-Ellen in question. “Let me guess. His ex-wife?”
“I didn’t take the picture out because of you,” she said. “I took it out years ago. Should’ve put something else in there, but I forgot.”
Maggie was curious about what his ex looked like.
“We didn’t like her,” Mary Beth said.
“Tony told me.”
“Mom and I are really interested in how you and Tony met.”
“Are you?” Maggie smiled. “I don’t mean to be coy, but we decided not to share that. I can only tell you that he came to my rescue, was an absolute gentleman when another man might have taken advantage and then everything happened so fast it’s all a blur. I think he’s an amazing man. One of a kind.”
“Love at first sight?”
“Mary Beth,” Sue-Ellen said, �
�leave her alone. She said it’s private. Let’s respect that.”
Maggie made the decision right then to tell Tony’s family the truth when they ended the marriage. He wouldn’t be made to be the heavy—not to them.
“I promise I’ll share more later, but it’s all kind of new and tender right now,” Maggie said.
“Dinner’s served,” Sadie said.
Maggie spent a good part of the evening answering questions from Mary Beth about show business—the actors, behind-the-scenes information, separating fact from fiction. Maggie, in turn, peppered the women with questions about living on a ranch, dealing with the isolation and hard work, separating fact from fiction for her, as well.
“I think much of the mythology of the American cowboy is as true now as ever,” Sue-Ellen said. “They’re hardworking, honest men. They don’t make a lot of money. They do it because they love it and can’t see themselves doing anything else. Some of them try, usually for a woman, but most of ’em have a hard time adjusting to life off the range.”
“It’s been eye-opening for me,” Maggie said. They were lingering over chocolate-espresso cake and coffee. “I always pictured cattle barons. Big, huge spreads owned and run by generations of families, who made a lot of money doing it. Like in that movie Giant.”
“We’re a rare breed in that our ranch is our own, and two of our sons work it with us. But none of us ranchers can make it on cattle alone. Everyone has to subsidize in some way. We’ve all done other kinds of work, when necessary. Both my daughters-in-law have part-time jobs in Sedona. Hoyt and the boys have always trained and stabled horses.”
“Tony seems to have other things going, as well.”
“He’s been even more innovative. He writes grants to get money to help keep the land environmentally sound in ways that also help his business. He and Butch are starting a trail-ride business. He’s been talking about starting a winery, of all things, even raising grass-fed beef as a niche market product. That boy is plumb full of ideas.”
Tony Young, entrepreneur. It made Maggie smile. She never saw him hard at work, just always knew he’d been working hard while she was off working. She loved learning about this side of him, the side he wouldn’t have talked about much, she suspected.
