by D'Ann Lindun
Should she?
Spy on a client?
It wasn’t spying, just research. A public person could easily be found on Google or any other search engine.
With a resigned sigh, she booted up the computer and typed in Cowboy. Over a million sites instantly popped up, showing everything from working cowboys to the Dallas football team. Mingled among them were stories about a rock star named Cowboy.
She opened his webpage first.
His picture showed a good-looking man with long light-brown hair and blue eyes. His full lips looked made for kissing. She snorted. He’d probably laid them on thousands of girls. A little tingle of awareness startled her. Long hair and torn jeans weren’t her usual thing.
She learned Cowboy—Johnny Cortez—had grown up in Seattle, always been interested in music. Started playing guitar at a young age, honing his skills in the school band. He and his best friend had started the Silver Star Band in high school and signed their first record deal by their early teens.
Montana’s reluctant admiration for the rock star slowly grew. He had worked hard and earned his stripes, although his last CD, Heartbeat, had tanked. His new record would release sometime next summer.
The sidebar showed a list of his music.
Curious, she clicked a selection.
Loud blasting rock music.
Yuck.
Choosing another, she was pleasantly surprised when a familiar country tune drifted out. She hummed along, liking the lyrics a lot.
Why had this album not done better? Apparently the fans had not liked his crossover from hard-driving rock to country.
She dug further and learned he’d written Heartbeat, the country album, for his wife. Charmed by his devotion, she opened yet another site.
As she read, her stomach dropped.
This guy made Tom Kerrigan look like a devoted family man.
Johnny Cortez—AKA Cowboy—dated strippers and porn stars until he married an unknown singer named Teal McNamara who resembled a centerfold with a mass of pale blonde hair, impossibly big blue eyes and enormous fake breasts. They’d met at a concert, and married in a quickie Vegas wedding. Not long after, she’d landed in his best friend’s arms.
The press had had a field day with that fiasco, detailing every sordid moment.
A flicker of sympathy lit in Montana. She knew how betrayal felt. With a sigh, she closed the laptop.
It was going to be a long week.
Where were her guests? They should’ve arrived long before now. She glanced at the clock. Almost nine. Had something happened to them? The road into Black Mountain was steep and winding. More than one person had died navigating the two-lane highway.
She nibbled her lip. Should she try to call Joel? Finally, she dialed. It went immediately to voicemail. She left a message asking if they were okay and hung up more concerned than before.
Briefly, she considered calling the sheriff, but Joel had stressed privacy. If nothing were wrong and she sent the cops, Joel probably wouldn’t like it.
Should she go look?
She couldn’t miss them. The road to the ranch was lonely, traveled by very few. Mind made up, she called Boots and grabbed her coat. A quick trip to town wouldn’t hurt. She let the Border collie jump into the Ford first, and then climbed into the cab.
“I hope this isn’t a wild goose chase,” she muttered. “They probably decided not to come. Too bad. I’m not giving their money back even if they don’t show.”
The dog barked in agreement.
~*~
Montana didn’t pass a single vehicle on her way into town. Her nagging worry increased. Maybe she should go to the sheriff. She wrapped her fingers around the steering wheel until they turned white.
Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a black Escalade parked in front of The Waterfall. Could the fancy vehicle belong to her missing guests?
She flipped on the signal light and pulled into the nearly empty parking lot. “Stay,” she told Boots and headed for the bar.
Inside, the jukebox blasted. The sounds of laughter and conversation drew her gaze to the back booth. A group of people sat around it, drinking and talking as if they didn’t have a care in the world.
Perhaps they didn’t.
Her gaze flew over the scene. It took a minute to recognize her old college buddy in one corner of the booth. Next to him sat a man with a girl on his lap and his tongue stuck down her throat. Three more girls had their arms wrapped around each other, laughing uproariously.
But it was the last man who caught and held her attention.
Johnny Cortez.
Her heart pounded a little faster and her pulse picked up speed.
The spark instantly died when she noticed the girls draped over him.
Exactly like Tom.
When he spotted her standing by the door, staring in disbelief, his dark blue eyes caught and held her as captive as a deer in headlights.
He unwound the brunette’s arms from his neck, stood and walked toward Montana. The internet had not done the rock star justice. Tall. Long hair. Wearing a T-shirt, baggy blue jeans with holes in the knees and cowboy boots.
Sexy personified.
He extended his hand. “Hello, gorgeous. Call me Cowboy.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Montana’s eyes narrowed and her mouth snapped into a tight line. Instead of taking his hand, she spun on her heel and stomped back through the door, slamming it behind her. By the time she reached her truck, her stomach churned so hard she thought she might vomit right there in the parking lot.
He thinks I’m a groupie!
When she climbed inside, Boots whined and licked her cheek.
Memories flooded her mind as she climbed into her truck and started the engine. The homecoming football game her senior year of college should have been the best ever. Tom had played like the star he was and came off the field sure he would be picked up in the drafts. Dating a running back, wearing his ring with plans to marry after graduation, had Montana on top of the world.
He told her to meet him at his apartment and they’d go out to celebrate.
Using her key, she let herself inside Tom’s place. He wasn’t in the living room or kitchen. The shower was running. Heading that way with a smile, she let herself inside the steamy bathroom.
Through the mist, she spotted three bodies under the water.
Frozen in disbelief, she stared at her fiancé and the two girls having sex with him. She’d never seen a pornographic movie, but she imagined this scene would fit right in. One girl knelt in front of him with his penis in her mouth. The other one draped herself over his back with her breasts pressed into him.
With a cry of pain, Montana fled.
Later, Tom swore it didn’t mean anything. An impulsive act, one he’d always fantasized about. Just recreational sex. Something Montana shouldn’t hold him accountable for. She was the one he loved, but dating a soon-to-be-famous running back, she would have to get used to groupies. They were part of the fame deal, after all.
If that was fame, she didn’t want any part of it.
Apparently sensing her distress, Boots licked her hand.
Through hot tears, Montana looked at her dog. “It’s okay, buddy. I don’t care about Tom and his tramps anymore.”
Boots whined softly.
If she weren’t so desperate for money, she’d give the rock star a refund and send him down the road.
Being attracted to him was way too dangerous.
Even though she should go straight home and get ready for the morning, Montana knew she’d be too wound up to settle down for a few hours. Picking up her cell phone from the cup holder next to her, she dialed her best friend. When Rose answered, Montana said, “You up for a visit?”
Although surprised, Rose confirmed she would be delighted to have company.
“See you in a few.”
Rose had a cup of spiced apple tea ready when Montana reached her house a few minutes later. “Here. You look like y
ou could use this. Or you want something stronger?”
“No.” Montana took the steaming tea, inhaling the comforting aroma of apples and cinnamon. “Thanks.”
“You look like you saw a ghost.” The pretty redhead settled on her blue plaid couch, indicating Montana should take the other end. “What’s wrong?”
After settling on the opposite end of the sofa, Montana sipped her tea while she gathered her thoughts. She told her best friend everything. They’d never kept secrets between them. Joel’s request that she keep her client’s identity a secret weighed against her desire to hear Rose’s sage advice.
“I was thinking about Tom tonight. Those old memories got me down,” Montana confessed.
Rose arched her auburn brows. “After all this time? Why? What happened?”
A rock star turned my head…someone I wouldn’t let touch me with a ten-foot pole.
“The bank is threatening to foreclose on the ranch,” she admitted. “Rawls suggested I talk to Colleen to see if she had any overflow, but they’re in as bad of shape as me. So much so that they are taking Tom Kerrigan on a hunt.”
Rose stared openmouthed at her. “Damn, girl. Why didn’t you tell me you were in trouble?”
Montana shrugged. “What good would it have done to bitch and moan? At the final hour I got a client. Someone well known.”
“Who is it?” Rose leaned forward. “Tell me.”
What the hell? Rose wouldn’t blab and even if she did, the star and his entourage hadn’t exactly been hiding while partying in the small bar. By morning the girls with him would have spread the news of his presence all over town. “A singer named Cowboy. And some of his band.”
Rose’s brown eyes grew enormous. “Holy shit! You’re kidding.”
“No.” Montana sipped her tea. “I’m not.”
“He’s huge,” Rose said. “A superstar. Mega-famous.” She fanned her face. “And hot. Oh my God. Have you met him yet? I can tell by the look on your face you have. What’s he like? As gorgeous as he looks on TV and the web?”
“I couldn’t tell you,” Montana said. “Because he’s down at The Waterfall with Mary-Jane Powell and Serena Southward draped all over him. Partying like the rock star he is.”
Rose eyed her the way only a best friend could. “You’re upset about the groupies. It reminded you of Tom.”
There was no point denying it. “Yeah.”
“Oh, hon. Not every man is like him.” Rose reached for Montana’s hand and squeezed.
“All the famous ones seem unable to keep their jeans zipped,” Montana muttered.
“There has to be a man who has fame and fortune and is also decent. You can’t judge all men on Tom’s actions.” Rose squeezed again before letting go of Montana’s hand.
“From what I saw, this one’s exactly the same.” Montana sipped her tea without tasting. “You should have seen Mary-Jane and Serena crawling all over him like he was a sofa. Disgusting.”
“It’s probably pretty hard to shake them off.” Rose stood and walked into the kitchen. She refilled their cups and settled back on the couch. “From what I’ve read, this guy’s just gone through a pretty rough patch. He married some girl who almost immediately slept with his best friend. The band almost broke up over the whole mess.”
She rose and dug through a pile of newspapers stacked by the fireplace. “At least that’s what the tabloids say. Here’s one.” She brought a trash rag to Montana and pointed to a picture of a bleached blonde on the cover. “That’s his ex, Teal McNamara.”
Montana didn’t fess up that she’d already snooped around on the internet and read all about the short marriage between Cowboy and his bimbo. She shot a disgusted glanced at the bombshell smiling into the camera before tossing the paper aside. “You know how these things are. These rags make up lies to sell copies. None of this garbage is probably even true. For all we know, he cheated on her first.”
Rose sighed. “You’re impossible.”
“Just skeptical.” Montana frowned at her friend. “And refusing to ever be gullible again.”
“If you don’t take a risk, how will you ever find someone great?” Rose asked. “Have those kids you’re craving? You’re not the type to go it alone.”
“I’ll take a chance on love someday,” Montana said. “Just not on someone I can’t trust to keep his pants zipped. My kids will have a father they can rely on. The list of people I don’t have any faith in includes football players and music stars.”
“Cowboy can pick me then.” Rose waved her hand. “Because I’d settle for just one night with the man.”
“I’ll be sure to give him your number,” Montana said drily. “So he can add your name to his list of conquests. It’ll go on his headboard right behind Mary-Jane Powell and Serena Southward.”
“No thanks.” Rose laughed. “Besides, a week with Cowboy and you’re going to want to keep him all to yourself.”
“I seriously doubt that.” Montana drained her cup. “More likely I’ll be ready to shoot someone. Probably me.”
“Don’t do that because I want to hear every dirty detail when you get back.” Rose sighed dramatically. “And I seriously want an introduction to Cowboy’s also-extremely-hot guitar player before he leaves town.”
“There won’t be any dirty details from me. I’m guiding a hunt, nothing else.” Montana stood and carried her cup to the sink. “If you hurry you could run down to The Waterfall and join the rest of the girls drooling on him.”
“I’d rather stay here with you,” Rose declared loyally.
Montana laughed. “No you wouldn’t. But you’re a good friend and I love you for it.”
Rose followed her into the kitchen and leaned a hip against the counter. “I love you, too. I just want you to be happy.”
“I know.” Rose was more than a friend. She was family. A sister.
Rose grabbed a marker from a cup on the counter and moved to the calendar hanging on the wall. “Are you staying at your regular camp? So I know where to look if you get lost?”
“Yeah. Mint Creek.”
“When will you be back?”
“Nine days from tomorrow. We leave at dawn.”
Rose made notations on the calendar. “You think your rock star is going to be out of bed at that time of day? Especially if he’s partying all night with those girls?”
Montana ignored the little twinge of jealousy pinching her stomach at the thought of the guy spending the night in the arms of Mary-Jane and Serena. “He’s not my rock star. If he’s not awake I’ll go without him. This isn’t some Bahamas getaway where we sleep until noon. He’s either here to hunt, or he’s not.”
“Ryan and Shannon going with you?” Rose named the brother and sister team whom Montana often hired to help her with clients.
“Yeah. They helped me pack groceries and tack.”
“I bet Shannon’s all twitterpated about the rock star.”
“You have no idea.” Montana sighed. “Even Ryan went all fangirly over the news of who we’re taking in.”
Rose chuckled. “I bet he’s packing his guitar and planning his record deal right now. He was pretty brokenhearted when Maura left town without him.”
Montana’s breath caught. “I hope not. I don’t want this guy thinking we’re trying to use him in any way. Otherwise we’re no better than Teal McNamara.”
“Ah-ha! So you do think he got treated badly by her.” Rose waggled her finger. “I knew it.”
“Maybe,” Montana admitted reluctantly.
“You’re softening,” Rose said. “I won’t be surprised if you’re head over heels for the rock star by the end of the week.”
“Not a chance.” She’d risked her heart once to someone famous and got burned. She wouldn’t do so twice.
~*~
By the time the sun peeked over the San Juans, Montana and Shannon had the horses saddled and loaded in the trailer. They’d already hauled the mules to the trailhead where Ryan was busy packing their supplies.<
br />
There was no sign of the hunters.
Montana fought irritation. Typical attitude of the rich and famous. They all thought the rules didn’t apply to them.
Shannon sat on the wheel well of the trailer, absently kicking the tire. “I bet they don’t show up until noon, if at all.”
Montana feared so, too. “I know.”
Shannon crossed and uncrossed her legs. “Have you tried calling?”
“Yeah. Nobody’s answering.” Probably sleeping off their drunken haze.
One of the horses snorted and another one kicked impatiently. Montana felt like kicking something, too. “If they do show up they’re going to be hungover. Probably still drunk.”
Shannon frowned. “Great. I love hungover people.”
“Yeah. They’re a lot of fun.”
Boots barked and jumped to his feet, signaling an arrival. Both girls watched as a trail of dust rose on the road. In a moment, a black Escalade came into sight.
Montana’s heartbeat sped up. They had come after all. “Looks like they managed to get out of bed. You ready for this?”
Shannon stood. “Bring it on.”
The SUV parked and four people stepped out of it. Montana’s gaze went straight to Johnny Cortez. He wore a straw cowboy hat with a feather band, a pair of camouflage bibs and Sorel boots. But it was his broad smile that caught her gaze. He looked genuinely happy to be there. And sober.
The other three, not so much.
All wore sunglasses and frowns.
Montana’s gaze snapped back to the rock star as he walked toward her. She met him halfway and held out her hand. “You made it.”
He took her hand and held it a little longer than necessary. With the other hand, he removed his sunglasses and did a lingering appraisal of her body. “Are you going to run away this time? You already know my name. I’d like to hear yours.”
She doubted he found her Stetson, Wranglers and Justins too appealing and heat crawled up her face. Damn. She’d hoped he would have forgotten how she’d fled last night. “I’m Montana Weaver.”
“Pretty name for a pretty girl.”
