by Verna Clay
Eli heard Angel whistle as they entered the kitchen and then the great room. Although the interior was rustic and cozy with log walls, he knew it was the view that had caused her reaction. It was a million dollar view from a modest cabin. She set her belongings on the sofa and stepped to the bank of windows that were so large they gave one the impression of being outdoors.
Angel pivoted and turned to face Eli. "I love, love, love it, Eli!"
Eli's heart slammed his chest. The illumination through the glass was such that Angel was engulfed in a halo of golden light and all he wanted to do was take her in his arms and pour love into her.
She twisted her hands in front of her. "I can't wait to read your manuscript on that wonderful deck."
After a short tour of the cabin, Angel was lounging on a deck recliner and appeared absorbed in American Spy. For the first hour, Eli tried to write another chapter, but finally gave up. The next hour he chopped wood until his shoulders ached. The third hour he followed an animal trail into the woods and berated himself for allowing her to read his story. It was probably a redundant spy novel with nothing original to offer readers.
As the sun marched toward its pinnacle, his stomach growled and he returned to the cabin to prepare lunch and face Angel. Of course she would say nice things and encourage him to continue writing, but she'd only do it to spare his feelings.
When he ascended the deck stairs, however, he was surprised when she jumped up and rushed to throw her arms around his neck. "Eli, it's wonderful! Your writing is different from your father's, but just as exciting. I was so engrossed in the story I wanted to scream in frustration when I got to the last page. I can't wait to know what happens! I feel like I'm living with the characters and I can't imagine who the double agent is."
Eli was completely taken aback. He wrapped his arms around Angel. "You're not just being nice to keep from hurting my feelings are you?"
She leaned back until she could stare into his eyes. "What! Of course not! That wouldn't help you. You need to know what readers think. And since I'm a reader, I've told you the truth."
Angel suddenly had an overwhelming desire to remove Eli's glasses and kiss him—really kiss him. The thought shocked her and she stepped backward. She was in love with Harris, but wanted to kiss Eli? To cover her confusion she said, "I'm starving! How about you? Let's unpack lunch and then talk some more about your new career as a writer."
Chapter 18: Paydirt
Hoping to learn more about Larry while Angel and Eli were gone, Lucinda invited Harris and Larry to brunch on Sunday. Harris had flown to and from a wedding the day before so he could attend a local charity event, and he'd invited Lucinda to join him. She had been impressed by his speech and ability to relate to everyone in attendance; be they vets or their family members, donors, or those sponsoring the fund raiser. There was a genuineness about him that she intended to make mention of in her article.
But she still needed to solve the riddle of Larry, so she put her rusty culinary skills back into practice as she cooked for the men. And although she enjoyed their company, her motive was to discover a lead she could use in researching Larry.
Both Harris and Larry were impressed by her spread of Denver omelettes, rosemary hash-browns, crispy bacon, and strawberry waffles. She confided, "My mother loves cooking and taught me everything I know."
"And I'm sure your father loves that she loves it," joked Larry.
"He did. Unfortunately, he died when I was three, but my mom jokingly told me that I'd never have been born if he hadn't outbid a competitor for her peach pie at a church fundraiser, and been so impressed, he'd tracked her down. She always said it was love at first bite." She chanced a question, "What about you, Larry? Any chefs in your family?"
"No. I was raised in an orphanage in Florida and the food was terrible."
Lucinda saw Harris' surprised expression and then he said a little too quickly, "My mom's bologna sandwiches were to die for."
Everyone chuckled and then Larry said to Lucinda. "It looks like your mother taught you well."
After her guests left, Lucinda dashed to her computer and began a search of anyone named Larry Jones raised in an orphanage in Florida, whose age could be between fifty and sixty-five. The search was a long-shot and she didn't find anything. Pressing speed dial on her cell phone, she called a familiar number. It was time to enlist the help of a professional, the research guru at her newspaper. She got his voicemail and left a message detailing everything she knew about Larry and requested a background investigation.
Harris returned to his RV with Larry and said after they entered, "I didn't know you were raised in an orphanage?"
Larry looked sheepish. "Sorry I let that slip. I forgot the gal is a reporter."
Harris shrugged. "I doubt she even gave it a second thought." He walked to the kitchen counter and lifted the coffee carafe. "I'm making a fresh pot. Want some?"
"Sure." Larry sat on the sofa and stretched out his legs.
Harris said while he prepared the coffee, "So, tell me about your childhood." He could feel Larry studying him.
Finally, Larry said, "It's not pretty. My mom and dad were drug addicts and died from a bad batch of meth. I was ten and handed over to the state orphanage. When I was eighteen, I blew the place faster than a tornado headed for a barn and moved westward. I got a job working ranches, discovered I was good at it, and entered some local rodeos. As I got better, the rodeos got bigger and people started calling me Lucky Larry."
After the coffeemaker beeped Harris poured two cups. Handing one to Larry, he sat across from him and waited for him to continue. When he didn't, Harris said, "And that's when you met my mother?"
Larry sipped his coffee before saying, "That's when I met lots of women. Your mom was just one of them."
Harris felt instant anger. "That's a shitty thing to say."
"Yeah? Well, I was a shitty man back then. What do you want me to say? Do you want me to lie and tell you I instantly fell for your mama? Hell, Harris, I let you know from the get-go that I'm not proud of what I done, but I'm not gonna lie just to spare your feelings. The fact of the matter is your mama was one of many."
Harris leaned against the cushions of his chair and released a long sigh. "Sometimes I think lies would be better than the truth." When Larry chuckled, Harris glared at him.
Larry said, "But I will admit that you're the best mistake I ever made."
Before Harris could reply, Larry jumped to his feet. "I think I need to walk off that delicious breakfast." He hurried out the door and Harris mused over the fact that Larry sounded as if he might cry.
By late afternoon Lucinda's continued internet research had yielded nothing, so when she received a call from her newspaper's researcher, her hopes soared. "Hello, Buzz. This is Lucinda."
"Hi, Lucinda. Even though it's the weekend, I was checking the voicemails and heard yours."
She held her breath. "And?"
"I think I may have found Larry. Your info wasn't much to go on, but the fact that he knows so much about rodeos, gave me an idea. I decided to check if there were any rodeo champions with the name of Larry Jones. There weren't, but there was a fifty-six year old guy with the first name of Laramie and the surname of Walker. And get this, back in the day, he was called Lucky Larry. Further research showed he'd been orphaned."
Lucinda's heart pounded. "Can you give me a quick synopsis and then email the info?"
"I can do better than that. I can also send some pictures of Larry when he was at the top of his game. But first here's a quick scoop…"
When Lucinda hung up the phone she was dumbfounded. Her second rate assignment had just turned golden. Not only was Harris a superstar on the rodeo circuit and the adopted son of a world famous author, but possibly the offspring of Larry Jones, FKA Laramie Walker, FKA Lucky Larry, a former rodeo champion who'd been a skirt chaser. When she opened her email and saw the pictures, she grinned. Young Larry looked remarkably like Harris.
Chapter 1
9: Flirtation
On Monday before Eli and Angel returned, Lucinda walked to a coffee house not far from the RV park. She fired up her laptop and read the latest email from Buzz, her co-worker researching Lucky Larry. It appeared the rodeo champion had been a first-class jerk, often in brawls, arrested twice for petty theft and once for drunk driving. However, one thing was obvious—he'd been a great saddle bronc rider.
So Harris inherited his skill from Larry. Of course, she was still speculating that Larry was Harris' birthfather.
"Hey, Lucinda, looks like you've discovered the best coffee in town."
She glanced up to see Harris walking toward her carrying a mug. Quickly, she minimized the page on her laptop.
Harris' grin creased the corners of his mouth and Lucinda's heart tripped over itself. He said, "Do you mind if I join you? I just got off the phone with Wild West Clothiers and they want me to endorse a new line of dusters. You can celebrate with me."
"That's fantastic! Have a seat, cowboy. And yes, the coffee is the best."
Harris sipped and said, "I always hang out here when I'm in Albuquerque." He pulled a chair out and sat across from her, nodding toward her laptop. "Must be good reading because you were looking like the cat that's just found the cream."
Lucinda pushed her eyeglasses higher on her nose. "Ah, just an email from a colleague." She needed to change the subject. "Are you ready for the Albuquerque rodeo?"
Harris set his coffee on the table, plopped his elbow beside it, and dropped his chin into his palm. "It must be from your special guy."
Lucinda was confused. "What?"
Harris grinned. "The email. You couldn't change the subject fast enough."
Lucinda fingered her glasses. It was a nervous habit when she felt flustered. Unexpectedly, Harris reached and stilled her hands. Then he placed his fingers on either side of the frame and removed her glasses. Her heart stumbled when he said, "I know I've said this before, but you have the longest eyelashes and prettiest eyes I've ever seen?"
Lucinda could barely breathe when he reached his thumb to lightly brush the tips of the lashes of her right eye. She stuttered, "It-It's a pain when the eyelashes rub against the lenses, though."
Harris smiled and replaced her glasses. His smile was disarming when he proclaimed, "Pain or not, they're beautiful."
Now Lucinda couldn't inhale. Harris, the famous and hot rodeo star was flirting with her—the dorky journalist. He leaned back, lifted his mug again, and slowly sipped. He said, "I really like this town. Why don't you let me show you around? There's a great zoo and a restaurant not far from the zoo. We could visit the animals and then enjoy lunch." When she didn't respond immediately, he persisted, "What do you say?" He grinned and added, "And you can ask me whatever questions you want."
Lucinda accepted his invitation with a nod. She was still reeling from his flirtation. Finally, she croaked, "That-that sounds like fun."
Walking around the zoo with Lucinda turned out to be a great way to spend the day. When Harris had asked her, he'd seen her surprise. But the fact was, he'd been just as surprised by his spur of the moment invitation. His impression of Lucinda since meeting her was that she was a solitary person by choice, but also a lonely one. Maybe that's why he'd asked.
As they made their way throughout the zoo eating cotton candy, his gaze kept straying to the little reporter with the beautiful eyes and he realized he was attracted to her—another surprise. She was nothing like the women he dated.
She licked her cotton candy and it got stuck to her nose, which made them both laugh. She was adorable when she forgot to be serious. Another strand of spun candy got stuck on her glasses and she removed them, giving Harris yet another glimpse of lovely, expressive eyes the color of melted milk chocolate. She had eyes that could drive a man crazy with desire. Harris inwardly rolled his eyes at the poetic bent to his thoughts and said, "I think the elephants are this way." He clasped Lucinda's hand after she replaced her glasses and led her in that direction.
Later, during lunch, Lucinda asked him about his childhood and he gladly told her about his literary mom and dad and the wonderful upbringing he'd had. "I don't know if you know this, but my dad, Miles Brightman, is the author Maxwell Henry. And my mom has authored a couple of poetry books and a non-fiction novel about her ancestors titled The Gift, as told in a diary she discovered in our home when I was four."
Lucinda said, "I did some research on your family, so I know about your famous parents. I even ordered your mother's books. As for your father's, I've read all of them. But tell me about the diary. It sounds fascinating."
Harris laughed. "Sounds like you know all my secrets."
Lucinda chuckled. "Do I? Anything more you want to tell me?"
"Nope. You know everything." He returned the subject to her previous question. "The diary tells the story of a soldier on his deathbed at the end of the civil war. He was taken in by a widower with three daughters because they wanted to make his remaining days as comfortable as possible. The soldier had lost both legs and was dying from infection."
Lucinda gasped. "And this is a true story?"
"It is. Right out of the oldest daughter's journal."
"Did the soldier die?"
Harris tapped his chin and cocked his head to the side. "Are you sure you want a spoiler?"
"Yes!"
"Okay. Amazingly, the family nursed him back to health and then–" He paused for affect.
Lucinda leaned forward, her eyes wide. "What?"
Harris also leaned forward until his nose was almost touching hers. "Well…I guess you'll have to read the book."
The surprised expression on Lucinda's face was adorable and Harris wanted to cup her cheeks and kiss her. He leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest, waiting for her blustering. She playfully slapped his forearm and said, "Did you forget I'm writing an article about you that will be read by…" she crossed her fingers in a hopeful gesture, "maybe millions."
Harris continued their bantering. "So, are you blackmailing me?"
She replied without hesitation, "Of course. Now tell me what happened."
With a smug smile he said, "I'll only reveal this much—the story becomes a love story."
"Seriously?"
"Now would I kid you about something so profound as love?" Harris was shocked when Lucinda gave him a coy sideways glance and asked, "I don't know, would you?" Her expression, and those eyes, even behind thick lenses, sent desire straight to his groin. He was actually hot for the little reporter.
As soon as Lucinda was back in her RV, she rushed to her room to grab her kindle. She had to read The Gift. Her day with Harris had not only been fun, but fruitful. She'd gained more information for her research into his family's background. While she waited for the ebook to download, she pondered his flirtations and how spontaneous she'd been. Being a flirt was in Harris' nature, but not hers, so responding the way she had was troubling…but also, exciting. Harris had brought out something in her, she hadn't known existed.
Chapter 20: Visitor
A week after Eli and Angel's return from the wedding, Harris was feeling uneasy. Life was running so smooth he wondered when a monkey wrench would jam the cogs. He'd taken first place in Albuquerque without even a pulled muscle and their next stop was Santa Fe. Eli and Angel were running his career like a well oiled machine with no complaints from sponsors or fans. Lucinda tagged along with him during the day, taking notes and pictures and looking adorable. As for Larry, he kept pretty much to himself and appeared healthier than he had since Harris stumbled across him. So, for Harris, his seemingly perfect life had him wondering when a boulder would drop.
He didn't have to wait long.
The day after their arrival in Santa Fe there was a knock on his RV after he, Eli, and Larry had cooked up a breakfast of bacon, sausage, scrambled eggs, hash browns, pancakes, and biscuits. Since they were waiting on the girls to arrive, they assumed the knock was from them. Harris was flipping pancakes and Eli was pu
lling biscuits from the oven, so Larry said, "I'll let the girls in."
The next thing Harris heard was his mother's screech of, "Oh, my God!" He jerked his head toward the door just in time to see Larry backing away with his hands in front of him, as if warding off a monster. Then he turned, mouthed "Tooty" to Harris, and fled the room through the driver's door.
Harris looked at Eli, and Eli looked at Harris. Eli said low, "Bro, this is your dance. You handle it."
Squeezing his eyes tight and inhaling a calming breath, Harris prepared himself for his mother's wrath. When he reached the front door, she simply stared up at him with bewilderment. He opened his mouth to explain but she shouted, "I came here to surprise you and what do I find?" She placed a hand over her heart and yelled, "The devil himself!"
Speaking evenly, Harris said, "Mom, calm down. Just come in and sit down and we'll talk about it."
His mother's face became a mask of horror as she climbed the two steps into the RV and glanced around.
"He's not here," said Harris. "Have a seat, Mom."
Eli interjected inanely as he tossed Harris' burned pancake into the sink, "Are you hungry, Mom? We made a great breakfast."
Tooty replied just as inanely, "I don't call burned pancakes great," before plopping on the couch and dropping her purse on the floor.
Harris sat in the chair opposite his mother and searched his mind for words to explain.
Eli said, "I'll call Angel and Lucinda and tell them breakfast is off."
Tooty crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm waiting for your sorry-ass explanation, Harris."
Harris rubbed his temples. "Let me start at the beginning." He then began his tale with the bartender who had pointed out Lucky Larry mopping the floor. When he finished his mother said, "Miles is not going to like this; not at all."
