Wanted!

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  “Not if Dad wanted it kept quiet.” As Gabe listened in stony silence, Nick laid out the story, or as much as he knew of it.

  “That’s bullshit, Nick. Dad should have told you! I can’t believe he kept it to himself, that he let you go on thinking…” He stared at Nick. “It doesn’t change anything as far as I’m concerned. You’re still as much my brother as you ever were. Just so you know.”

  “Thanks.” Nick smiled at him. “I feel the same.”

  “This is incredible.” Gabe took off his Stetson and wiped his forehead with his sleeve. Then he glanced up at Nick. “What about Mom? Have you talked to her?”

  Nick shook his head. “I saw her last night, but we were having fun at the Spirits and Spurs. I couldn’t see the percentage in ruining her evening by telling her I knew.”

  “Are you going to tell her?”

  “Yeah. Secrets suck. I think we should get everything out in the open. But she’s in town with Grandma Judy, and I need to tell her face-to-face.”

  Gabe shook his head.

  “What?”

  “You think the best plan is to hit her with it while she’s looking right at you? I would have loved to hear this on the phone, so I had time to get my head around it before I saw you.”

  “You would?”

  “Absolutely. So would Mom, I’ll bet.” Gabe nudged his hat back with his thumb. “Here’s my idea. Call Mom and tell her that you know about this Nicole lady, and now I know. Tell her you love her and you want all of us to get together at Spirits and Spurs tonight for dinner so we can talk about stuff.”

  “You think Grandma Judy’s up for that?”

  “I know she is. I called Mom to tell her I was coming home, and she asked if we could all go out. I guess she had a great time dancing with you last night and now Grandma Judy is determined to make it over there even if she has to use her walker.”

  “I still don’t think the phone is the right way to break this kind of news.”

  “Nick, the telephone is a wonderful invention, especially for information of a sensitive nature. Take it from your little brother, people don’t like to be ambushed, which is what it feels like when someone drops a bomb on you in person.”

  “Did you feel ambushed?”

  “A little, but I had that incoming missile warning from Emmett. Call her, Nick.” Gabe pulled his phone out of his jeans pocket. “Do it now. I’ll be your moral support. She’s my third speed dial number.”

  “Who’s your second?”

  “You.”

  Nick hadn’t known that, and he was gratified to be placed so highly. “Got a woman on speed dial?”

  “Don’t I wish. And that reminds me. Mom said you were hanging out with somebody named Dominique last night. But I don’t want to hear about her until after you call Mom.”

  Nick obediently punched the speed dial for his mother’s phone, and she answered immediately.

  “Gabe? You’re home?”

  “Yes, he is, but this is Nick, using his phone to ask if you and Grandmother Judy can come to dinner at Spirits and Spurs tonight.”

  “What time?”

  “Six?”

  “Great. Will Dominique be coming? I liked her so much.”

  “No, she won’t be able to make it.”

  “That’s too bad. Maybe another time. So, can I talk to Gabe?”

  “In a second.” Nick took a deep breath. Dominique’s voice reminding him of Sarah’s love echoed in his head. This would be okay. “Mom, I know about Nicole O’Leary.”

  Dead silence.

  Or maybe it wouldn’t be okay. “Mom? You there?”

  “Yes. I’m collecting myself. How did you find out?”

  “Going through Dad’s old trunk.”

  His mother groaned. “I should have gone through it weeks ago. This is my fault. I’m so—”

  “Mom, it’s fine. I’m fine. I’m glad I know. At first I was upset that nobody told me, but I’m not upset anymore.” And that was also thanks to Dominique, who’d helped him understand that Sarah had acted out of love, both for him and for his dad.

  “Nick, I don’t know what to say. Except that I love you.”

  “I love you, too, Mom.”

  “And no matter what, I’ll always be your mother. I’m just sorry you found out on your own instead of from me or your dad.”

  “That’s pretty much what Gabe said.” He winked at his brother. “Here he is.” Nick handed the phone over and stood up to stretch the muscles he’d unconsciously tightened during the phone call.

  The suspense was over. Dominique had left, all the significant people in his life had been informed that the long-kept secret was out, and life could get back to normal. Normal and boring. Without Dominique.

  The future looked bleak indeed.

  17

  AS NICK DRESSED for the evening, Pam called on his cell. Or at least that was the readout. For one wild moment he imagined that Dominique hadn’t left, and she was using Pam’s cell phone because…because…

  When he answered, heart pounding, and heard Pam’s voice, he cursed himself for a fool. Still, he couldn’t stop himself from asking about Dominique. “Did she get off okay?”

  “She’s on her way back to Indianapolis.”

  His heart ached. “Good. That’s really good. It’s the best for her, the best for me.”

  “I suppose it is. Listen, she forgot to get a release form signed so she can use those pictures she took of you. I offered to get that done. Should I drop the forms by?”

  “That’s okay. Gabe and I are going right by your place in just a little bit. We’re meeting my mom and Grandma Judy for dinner. Hey, would you like to come along?” Nick realized Pam was another person he should tell about his recent discovery. She’d be hurt if she found out from someone else.

  “Thanks for the invite, but I have some things to take care of here. So Gabe’s home?”

  “Yep. For now, anyway.” Gabe’s belief in the advantages of delivering startling news by telephone ran through Nick’s mind.

  “Then I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

  “Uh, Pam? There’s something I should probably tell you, rather than have you hear it from someone else. The other night I was going through my dad’s old trunk and found this document. Seems that before my dad met Sarah, he had an affair with somebody named Nicole O’Leary.”

  Pam drew in a sharp breath.

  “Is something wrong?”

  “It’s just that I haven’t heard anybody say that name in a long time. It… I’m surprised it still affects me so much.”

  Nick frowned. “What do you mean? You couldn’t have known her. You’ve only been here about five years.”

  “I knew her very well, Nick, maybe better than anybody. Nicole was my sister.”

  “Your sister?” Feeling suddenly light-headed, Nick sat on the edge of the bed.

  “I knew about her wishes, and after she died I kept track of what was going on at the Last Chance. As soon as I was financially able, I bought this house and turned it into a B and B so I could be close to you. I never had kids, and so…you’re my only family.”

  “You’re…my aunt.” Despite saying the words, Nick couldn’t absorb the concept. It seemed too fantastical.

  “Yes, I’m your aunt, and when you’re ready, I’ll tell you everything I can remember about your mother.”

  “Whew.” Nick closed his eyes. “I’m having trouble taking this in.”

  “I’m sure.”

  “Does my mom—I mean, Sarah—does she know about this?”

  “No, nobody knows. I was prepared never to tell you, but now that you’ve found out about Nicole, there’s no point in keeping the secret. And you can certainly call Sarah your mom. She has been your mom, and I’m not the least bothered by you calling her that. My sister gave you life, but Sarah gave you a home. Even if my sister had lived, she couldn’t have done that. It wasn’t in her nature.”

  Nick swallowed. “Um, look, I know you said you were busy,
but are you sure you can’t come to dinner? You’ve always been like family, and now…well, you are family.”

  “I don’t know, Nick. I’m the sister of a woman who might not be your mother’s favorite person.”

  After the revelations of the past couple of days, Nick had a new appreciation for his mother’s strength of character. “She’ll take it fine. After all, she ended up with my dad.”

  “And she also ended up with you, and I’ve seen how much she cares about you. Good point. All right, I’ll come. But I’ll leave the telling up to you.”

  “And I’ll take that assignment, but I have to admit that all these secrets have been a royal pain in the ass. From now on I hope everyone can be up front about stuff. I’ve had it with secrets.”

  PAM PICKED DOMINIQUE UP at the airport the afternoon of the exhibit, which was being held in the evening, complete with champagne and hors d’oeuvres. Dominique had timed her arrival late on purpose, knowing if she came in any earlier, she’d have to fight the urge to go out to the Last Chance to see Nick.

  “I still say you should have told him about this,” Pam said as she drove the Jeep around to the back entrance of the gallery. “You should have heard him raving on that night about secrets, and how he was so done with them.”

  “I can imagine, after you dropped your bombshell. I’m glad it all turned out okay.”

  Pam glowed with happiness. “More than okay. I can acknowledge my nephew and give him the photo albums I’ve saved for thirty years. Sarah’s been great about it, which helps. Everyone’s adjusted to the new status quo, but Nick is death on the subject of secrets. You need to tell him you’re here.”

  “I don’t dare, Pam. If this doesn’t go well…”

  “What if it does? You look fabulous, by the way. That yellow dress looks like a ray of sunshine.”

  “Or an elongated egg yolk. After I bought it I wondered if it was too yellow.”

  “It’s perfect with your coloring. You’ll stand out, which is what Stuart has in mind.” She gazed at Dominique. “You could still call Nick.”

  Dominique shrank from the potential hurt. “If I call him now, and he comes for the exhibit and nobody shows up, then this plan is DOA. We’d have to do the goodbye thing all over again.”

  “Look, I’ve told you about his belated inheritance from his grandparents, which has been earning interest ever since they died. Do you think he wouldn’t love to use that to set you up in your own gallery?”

  Dominique shivered in horror. “There’s a recipe for disaster. He shells out the money and I fail. Or he shells out the money and I succeed, but we discover we aren’t compatible, after all. I don’t care if he’s King Midas himself, I won’t take money from him to further my career.”

  “All right, but I’m telling you, he’ll hate missing this. It’s a huge moment in your life, and you’re cutting him out of it. He deserves to make the decision whether to risk coming to Jackson and watching how this turns out. Give him the option, Dominique. Put an end to the secrets.”

  Dominique reached for her door handle. “Let’s go in.”

  Pam sighed in defeat. “All right. I tried.”

  Stuart ushered them in the back door, and he was beaming. “You’re going to love what I’ve done with the photographs, Dominique. The samples I sent by e-mail don’t do them justice.”

  Dominique took his hand in both of hers. “I know you’re taking a risk with an unknown photographer, and I’m so appreciative, Stuart. No matter what response we get tonight, I’m—”

  “Are you serious?” Stuart squeezed her hands and then drew her forward into the gallery. “The excitement has been building ever since I leaked one shot to my steady customers, and it wasn’t even the primo picture I love so much. Take a look. People will eat this up.”

  Stunned, Dominique found herself in a wonderland of her own making. She’d always dreamed of a one-woman show, but she’d never imagined what the subject matter would be. Yet here it was, her instinctive choices matted and framed, hanging from movable walls and mounted on easels. Somehow, without fully understanding what she was doing, she’d captured the cowboy fantasy she’d come to Wyoming to find.

  Yes, it was mostly embodied in Nick Chance, but Stuart had interwoven his image with shots of stall doors, bridles hanging from pegs, saddles thrown over a sawhorse, Sundance and Butch lying beside the barn. The impact of all those framed pictures nearly brought her to tears. It was a dream—her dream—come true.

  “Do you approve?” Stuart gazed at her in gleeful anticipation.

  She turned to him. “If I knew you better, I’d hug you.”

  “Go right ahead.”

  So she hugged him, short though he was, and just tried to make sure his face didn’t get buried in her cleavage. Her dress was sleeveless and summery, with a V-neck that was daring for her. When she’d bought it, she’d wondered if Nick would ever see her wearing it.

  And as she wandered around the gallery in a trance, pinching herself to make sure she was actually awake, she knew what she had to do. This show wouldn’t have been possible without Nick. Pam was right—he deserved to be here.

  Even if he could witness her failure. Despite Stuart’s assurances, Dominique knew that the public could be fickle. But she’d already acted extremely cowardly, not letting Nick know what she was doing.

  Shamefacedly, she walked over to Pam. “I need to call Nick.”

  “I’m so glad to hear you say that.”

  “But I don’t have his number.”

  Without a word, Pam reached into her purse, pulled out her phone and hit a speed dial number. Then she handed the phone to Dominique.

  Her hand shook as she waited to see if he would answer. Instead she got his voice mail. She took a deep breath. “Nick, this is Dominique. I’m in Jackson at the White Feather Gallery, where they’re exhibiting my work in a special show tonight. I’m so, so sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. I was afraid the show would be a flop and then I’d be no closer to gaining a foothold here than I was before. But whether it’s a flop or a hit, you deserve to be here. It’s…it’s your show, too. I should have invited you in the beginning. Please come. And don’t blame Pam for keeping this secret. I told her to.” Ending the call, Dominique handed the phone back.

  “So.” Pam gazed at her.

  “It’s up to him, now.”

  NICK FOUND THE MESSAGE at the end of a long day. Gabe had stayed on to guarantee that his mare would survive, and Nick had worked hard toward the same goal. The mare, named Doozie, was holding her own, but Nick was exhausted, both from taking care of Doozie and dealing with Gabe’s frustration at being forced to abandon the competition he loved.

  But his exhaustion vanished when he saw who had called. He’d never expected to hear from Dominique again. Had she reconsidered? Was she still in Indiana? Or at the airport in Jackson? Heart pounding and throat dry, he listened to her message.

  After hearing it, he found his first instinct was to throw the phone across the room. She hadn’t trusted him. She hadn’t trusted him enough to let him be part of her plans, and that hurt. Secrets, damned secrets. She’d made Pam a part of another one.

  He tried to summon the willpower to ignore the message, but knew he wouldn’t be able to keep away from her. She was in Jackson, and in a very short time he could be there, see her again, breathe in her spicy perfume. But what was he potentially doing to himself?

  Unsure what he would say or do when he arrived, he showered, dressed in jeans and a comfortable shirt, crammed his Stetson on his head and hopped in his truck. On the way to Jackson he called Gabe to let him know what was happening.

  “You watch yourself, bro,” Gabe said. “From all you’ve said, I’m not sure this chick is worthy of you.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind, Gabe.” He ended the call and tried to think rationally about this situation. She’d left him saying she wouldn’t give up her stable business to chase some potential relationship with him. But at some point she’d made a contac
t in the gallery.

  What did that mean? If she was looking for a way for them to spend time together, couldn’t she have told him about it? The more Nick thought about it, the madder he got.

  People in his life had a bad habit of thinking they knew what was best for him and he didn’t need to be part of the decision-making process. He wasn’t about to take that from Dominique. If they were going to have a future they had to start off on the right foot, which meant they’d talk to each other about everything. No secrets.

  He had trouble finding a parking place because the area near the White Feather Gallery was mobbed. Gradually, he realized the mob had to do with the gallery. He finally found a space and had to walk a couple of blocks.

  Getting in the door wasn’t an easy feat, either. People were standing around on the sidewalk outside, champagne flutes in hand. He caught snatches of conversation—fresh new approach, captured a cowboy’s soul, the romantic image of cowboys personified.

  He didn’t realize the personal nature of those comments until he caught sight of the first framed picture and recognized himself. Dear God, no wonder she’d said it was his show, too. Belatedly, he remembered the release he’d signed, but at the time he’d thought she’d be displaying the photos in Indianapolis. He’d never expected to see them hanging in his backyard.

  A woman with an upswept hairdo and a champagne glass dangling between her fingers approached him. “You look exactly like the guy in the pictures! Is it you?”

  “No, ma’am, it’s not me.”

  “Are you sure?” She peered closer. “Your nose is exactly like his. And your shoulders, and your—”

  “You know how it is, ma’am. All cowboys look alike.”

  “I know what you mean, but still, I would swear it’s you.”

  “It’s not. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m looking for somebody.”

  “Yeah, me, too.” The woman winked. “I’m looking for that cowboy. Yum.”

  He finally saw Dominique on the far side of the gallery, talking to more champagne-drinking folks. Before he could make his way over there, Pam intercepted him. “Hi, there.”