KILLER COWBOY CHARM

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  "Fair enough." He watched her cover her vulnerability with a virtual suit of armor. No matter how necessary that process was, he hated to see it happen. Jamie thought she needed to allow someone past that barrier. Clint had been that special someone for a while, a very short while, but he wasn't that person anymore.

  She reached for a handful of oats. "Do the horses like this?"

  "They love it. The bay on the right here is Gabriel."

  "The wonder horse who will save the ranch?"

  To her credit, she didn't sound the slightest bit sarcastic. He appreciated that more than she knew. "I hope so."

  "Then he definitely needs treats. Have some oats, Gabriel." She edged toward the stall and stretched out her hand, palm open.

  Gabriel had to crane his neck to nibble at the oats, and Meg gasped when the horse's mouth snuffled against her palm, but soon the oats were gone.

  Meg turned to him in triumph. "I did it! More oats!"

  As the keeper of the oats, he followed her from stall to stall. Each time she grew braver, and finally, with a chestnut gelding named Prince, she took a giant step and stroked his nose.

  "That's the horse you'll be on during the broadcast," Clint said. He'd deliberately had her finish up with Prince, hoping that by the time she fed Prince his oats, she'd be relaxed enough to enjoy the experience.

  "Prince has nice eyes," she said.

  "He's a gentleman. You'll be safe."

  She inched closer to the stall and leaned on the door so she could rub Prince's silky neck. "You must think I'm a real 'fraidy cat."

  He tried not to feel jealous of Prince. "You didn't grow up with horses. That changes everything."

  "No, I didn't, and when I was a little girl I got in the way of one of New York City's finest riding a very big horse during a parade. Or it seemed like a big horse to a four year old. It was my fault that I was knocked down, but I was terrified of that horse, and all horses afterward."

  "That's too bad." If he had time, he could cure her of that. She'd already come a long way. But after this contest she'd probably never be in close contact with a horse again, so what was the point?

  Even so, the horseman in him wanted to build on what they'd accomplished. "If you think there's time, we could take Prince out of the stall and I could boost you up on his back."

  "With no saddle?" Fear crept back into her eyes.

  "Sure. I actually like bareback riding better. You get a good feel for the horse that way."

  "Uh…" She glanced at her watch. "I really should get up to the house and change. I don't want a repeat of yesterday."

  He didn't want to push her, and she'd probably be fine for the broadcast now that she'd met and touched her horse. "Okay. Go on. I'll stay here and get Prince ready for his close-up." That way he wouldn't be in the house during the dangerous time she'd be naked in the shower.

  "All right." She walked over to the door and picked up their empty mugs. "See you soon."

  He glanced down at her feet. "I don't suppose you have any normal shoes."

  "These are normal."

  "Not out here." But he didn't want to make her nervous by implying her shoes would be a problem. After all, she'd only be sitting there, not riding around. "Never mind. Those will work."

  "Good." She sounded relieved. "I want this to go very smoothly today."

  "Don't worry. Prince won't let you down."

  * * *

  Prince wouldn't let her down, Meg told herself later on as she started back toward the barn. But Prince's owner might. If he'd been awake most of the night, too, then he'd had plenty of time to think. And thinking had produced no positive results, judging from his unchanged attitude about the contest.

  So, she'd concentrate on her job. This morning she felt much more together. She'd dressed in a red suede vest over a black Western shirt paired with tight black cropped jeans. And red suede slides.

  She hoped her shoes were okay for this gig. The red slides matched the vest, which was why she'd bought them. She'd never expected to get on a horse, though.

  As she descended the hill, she could see that Jamie was nearly organized for their time on the bird. He'd clapped his earphones on and the huge antenna sprouted from the roof of the live truck, ready to grab satellite time. The umbrella lights were in position and all three finalists— Denny, Bill and a cute Latino from Nogales named Carlos—were mounted up. Knowing how efficient Jamie was, no doubt they were miked up, too.

  Clint stood to one side holding Prince by the reins. In spite of feeding Prince a handful of oats this morning, Meg felt a clutch of fear at the thought of climbing aboard that giant animal. A little pony would have suited her better.

  Then she grimaced as she imagined what Mona would have to say if Meg showed up riding a little horse. No, Prince was the right choice, and Clint had promised everything would go fine. She trusted him in that respect.

  She hadn't written a script for this morning because the sequence was so straightforward. First she'd praise all the contestants and describe how difficult the choice had been. Then she'd introduce each finalist and ask a few questions. Finally she'd devote a minute or so to thanking the people of Sonoita for being such wonderful hosts, plug the next episode taking place in Kremmling, Colorado, and they'd be out of time.

  This morning's broadcast had brought an even bigger crowd of bystanders, and Tuck had them rounded up over by the corral, away from the action. If time allowed, Meg thought it would be fun to have Jamie pan the crowd while everyone waved. That move usually pleased everyone, from the producers in the studio to the bystanders getting a brief taste of fame.

  She smiled and called out a greeting to the knot of onlookers under Tuck's supervision. Their response was more enthusiastic than yesterday morning. Most of them had been at the Steak Out, and now they felt a personal connection with her.

  She felt the same about them. In some ways she envied them being a part of this tight little community. She'd bet more people lived in her New York apartment building than in Sonoita, and yet the connections here were so much stronger.

  Before she could climb aboard Prince, she had to attach her own mike and make sure Jamie knew the game plan. And she needed to give him a hug and thank him for hanging in there with her.

  Because of the cables running everywhere, he was obviously worried about the men on horseback getting tangled up. And of course the finalists had chosen lively horses to show off their skills. Thank goodness she had Prince, who stood off to the side, head lowered, eyes closed.

  She hoped he perked up a little for the broadcast, though. She didn't want Prince to look like a nag on TV. Maybe Clint would have a suggestion about how to get Prince to look lively for five minutes.

  In the meantime, she had business with Jamie. She walked over and tapped him in the shoulder. "Hi, there."

  He turned and smiled at her. "You look fabulous."

  "Thanks. And thank you for deciding to stay on."

  "Thank him" Jamie tipped his head in Clint's direction. "Between his cool head and killer coffee, I saw the error of my ways."

  Meg laughed because she knew he expected her to, but her heart ached something fierce. Clint had been Jamie's friend—why couldn't he agree to be hers and enter the contest?

  "So, you're—hold on a sec." Jamie winced and adjusted his earphones.

  "Let me guess. The finalists are all tapping on their mikes."

  "Yep. I've told them a dozen times that they're working, and they're live. They don't believe me and keep shouting into them. I'm going deaf." He glanced over at Prince. "So you're getting on that sorry-looking beast?"

  "Prince is going to be magnificent."

  Jamie raised his eyebrows. "A shot of Clint's coffee is what he needs. I'm hoping he doesn't decide to lie down in the middle of the segment."

  "Good Lord, do you think he might?"

  "No, no." Jamie rubbed her arm. "Not a chance. Didn't mean to worry you. Just kidding around."

  "Don't kid around about ho
rses."

  "Right. Go get miked and climb aboard that hay-burner. We're getting close."

  "I know." She leaned over and kissed Jamie on the cheek. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

  "That's good, 'cause you're stuck with me, now. I'm even starting to like this Home on the Range routine."

  "Me, too."

  "You?" His mouth dropped open.

  "Surprise, surprise." Then she walked over to the live truck to get her mike.

  * * *

  Clint couldn't believe the chaos taking place on his peaceful ranch. Okay, it was George's ranch, now, but it was still Clint's in spirit. What an insane amount of racket. The Circle W hadn't been this noisy during branding.

  Nostalgia gripped him. He missed those days more than he generally admitted. Mostly he tried to accept the situation as it was and live within the confines of reality. But he'd loved growing up on a working ranch and wished that his kids could do the same.

  And here came the very woman he would love to have kids with. He pictured a couple of cute little carrot-tops running around, full of the devil, bound for glory. She'd teach those kids to go for what they wanted.

  But her children would grow up in New York, and that was the sticking point. He sighed. He might imagine them chasing each other around this ranch, but it was total fantasy. Would never happen.

  Meg stopped six feet away from Clint and Prince. "I need to get on," she said, not looking happy about it.

  "Then you'll have to come a little closer, unless you're figuring on taking a flying leap into the saddle."

  "Very funny." She took a deep breath and walked slowly up to Prince. "Anybody got a ladder?"

  Clint looped the reins over Prince's neck and cupped his hands about three feet off the ground. "Put your foot right here, grab the saddle horn and I'll boost you up." She had on another pair of her ridiculous open-toed, backless shoes, but once she was in the saddle, it wouldn't matter.

  "Will he stand right there while I do that?"

  "He will."

  She lifted her foot and placed it in his cupped hands. "I should have wor looser pants."

  And he'd been trying so hard not to notice the snug fit. Now he couldn't help it. The way those pants outlined her tush made his mouth water.

  "Here goes nothing." She swung up into the saddle and landed with a little thump.

  Prince broke wind.

  "Tell me he's not going to do that on camera," Meg wailed. "I'm sure they all heard that back at the studio and are killing themselves laughing."

  "Yes, they are!" Jamie called over, a huge grin on his face. "They're loving the Megster on a musical horse. Okay, you two, bring that show on over here in front of the camera. We're live in five."

  "Shove your feet in the stirrups," Clint said. "I'll lead you over there."

  "It's hard in these shoes." Staring straight ahead, she kicked around, trying to feel for the stirrups, and almost lost a shoe.

  "I'll do it." He positioned one foot in the stirrup and ducked under Prince's neck to get to the other side. Then he knotted the reins and handed them to her.

  Her hand quivered as she took them.

  "You okay?"

  "I … guess so. I made the mistake of looking down while you fixed the stirrups. I'm really far off the ground. If he bucks me off…"

  "He won't buck you off." He wanted to put a comforting hand on her knee, but he couldn't do that in front of everybody. He tried to get her to meet his gaze, but she was looking everywhere except at him. "You can do this, Meg," he said in a low voice. "Piece of cake."

  "I don't know." Her glance darted here, there, everywhere, as if trying to find a way to escape.

  "Look at me."

  Finally she did.

  "You'll be fine," he said, telegraphing confidence as best he could.

  Some of the panic left her eyes. "Okay." She gulped softly. "Let's go."

  After taking hold of the bridle, Clint started over toward Jamie, who waved them in like a guy on a tarmac berthing a jumbo jet.

  "Good," Jamie said at last. "If you could lead the other three into position the same way, I'd appreciate it."

  A chorus of groans from the finalists told Clint they didn't want to be led into position.

  Jamie turned to them. "Trust me, you don't want one of those valuable animals getting crossways with some of this expensive equipment. All sorts of bad things could happen."

  The guys muttered in protest, but Clint could see the wisdom of having him act as a handler. He glanced up at Meg. "Hanging in?"

  She nodded; although she had a white-knuckled grip on the saddle horn.

  He hated to leave her, but Jamie was counting down the minutes. Clint brought Denny in first, because he trusted Denny and his horse, Slick, to behave themselves. He took Carlos and his pinto next, because the horse seemed less wild than Bill's crow-hopping Arab.

  Finally he took hold of the bridle of Bill's horse and started over. "Be sure and keep a tight rein on him," he said.

  "Spoilsport."

  "I mean it, Bill. Meg's not used to horses. And like Jamie said, there's all kinds of valuable equipment here. Don't screw around." He wished he had more faith in Bill's good judgment.

  "I'll be good, Mommy," Bill said as Clint led him into position beside Carlos.

  "Okay, folks, ten seconds." Jamie glanced at Prince. "Meg's horse looks embalmed. Can we do anything about that?"

  "Just tug on the reins a little, Meg," Clint said.

  She lifted the reins, but if there was a tug, Clint couldn't tell. She was probably too afraid to give a real tug, in case something horrible might happen.

  "Oh, well," Jamie said. "Five seconds." He held up his hand and counted silently down to one. Then he pointed at Meg.

  Her smile bloomed. "Happy Trails, Mel and Mona! I'm here to introduce the three hottest cowboys in Arizona!"

  Clint had to hand it to her. She was still scared to death, judging from the way she clutched the saddle horn, but she'd overridden that fear to put on a show for the camera. No doubt about it, she was a born performer.

  Prince, unfortunately, was not. He looked bored by the entire thing. But Clint would rather have him standing there looking bored than moving around restlessly like the other three in the lineup.

  Meg introduced Denny first, and then Carlos. By the time she got to Bill, his Arab was really starting to cut up. Clint thought Bill was egging the horse on for the effect. What a jerk.

  "So, Bill," Meg asked, "what makes you special?"

  "Meg, everything about me is special," Bill said. "Just ask Firebolt." On cue, his horse reared and pawed the air.

  Jolted out of his doze, Prince threw back his head and hopped sideways. Meg screamed. In an instant, the lineup dissolved as horses plunged this way and that, with Denny and Carlos cussing a blue streak.

  Clint dodged flailing hoofs to get to Meg, and somewhere in the process he lost his hat. But he managed to grab Prince's bridle and got a tight grip on the horse's nose, forcing him to stand quietly. "Easy, boy. Easy."

  "We're done!" Jamie said. "Off the air! Guys, control those horses, or somebody's gonna get hurt. Maybe even by me. Bill, you're on my shit list, man. What a dumbass stunt."

  Clint glanced up at Meg. She was gulping air, and makeup couldn't disguise that she'd gone white with terror. If Clint hadn't had his hands full, he would have cheerfully pulled Bill from his horse and beaten the tar out of him.

  But Clint had more important things to do, like making sure this incident hadn't made Meg's fear worse. "You did great," he said. "You hung on."

  She swallowed. "I didn't do great. I screamed. That made everything worse. I … I ruined the broadcast."

  "No, Bill ruined the broadcast."

  "Hey, nothing's ruined," Jamie said, walking toward them with his earphones around his neck. "I just got the word. Everyone loved it. The phones are going crazy." He picked up Clint's hat from the ground, dusted it off and handed it to him. "Mostly they loved you, buddy, the her
o who leaped in to save Meg."

  For the first time, Clint realized he'd appeared on camera. He'd been so desperate to help Meg that he hadn't even thought about it. Well, hell.

  "America wants you in the running," Jamie said. "They want Bill dumped and you put in his place."

  Clint stared up at Meg. She gazed back at him in silence, obviously unwilling to say anything to influence him.

  Jamie clapped him on the shoulder. "What do you say? I mean, that was great TV. You could really capitalize on it."

  Clint continued to gaze at Meg. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm not interested."

  * * *

  Chapter 15

  «^»

  Meg kept herself busy until she and Jamie were packed up and ready to leave. Bill had apologized, and she'd decided to keep him as the third finalist. He'd get his trip to New York, but she could guarantee he wouldn't win. She'd talked to Sharon at the studio, and Bill was not popular with viewers.

  Clint, however, was. Too bad. The guy couldn't see his way clear to go on the show, so that was that.

  And they wouldn't be having a touching Hollywood goodbye, either. Half of Sonoita was standing around when she and Jamie walked out to the live truck, which Jamie had parked in front of the ranch house. Clint was there, too, but she didn't focus on him for fear that she would cry.

  Instead she spent time saying goodbye to Tuck, Jed, Jose and Denny. She'd be seeing Denny in just over two weeks. Although Tuck had suggested she come back for a visit soon, she knew that wouldn't happen.

  Finally she turned to Clint. "Thanks for being a good host." She held out her hand and allowed herself one more look into those gorgeous blue eyes.

  He shook her hand briefly, and his gaze gave nothing away. "You're welcome. It was great having you here."

  As a lump started to grow in her throat, she smiled and turned away. "Bye, everyone!" Then she jumped in the live truck before the waterworks started.

  All the way to Phoenix, Jamie asked her what was wrong. She told him she'd caught a cold. She didn't think he bought it, but after a while he left her alone.