Her Favorite Cowboy

by Mary Leo

  One of the two horses whinnied, and scrapped its hoof on the tarmac.

  “Dark Ryder agrees with me,” the cowboy said, chuckling. He wore traditional cowboy clothing, including brown chaps and a dark brown Western hat, but there was something about him that caused Cori to believe he was new to the world of cowboying, maybe it was his hat. It didn’t quite fit him properly and he kept readjusting it on his head.

  She knew focusing on the cowboy was merely avoiding the real issue, so she took a deep breath and zoned in on Gage instead. That smile of his sent her heart racing, and those whiskey-colored eyes melted her insides. His kindness toward Hailey only made her like being with him more than she should. Gage simply sent her into an emotional tailspin, and despite her best efforts she couldn’t seem to pull out of her certain demise.

  With cautious acceptance, she took his hand in hers and immediately felt the warmth of his touch spread over her entire body. He helped her climb up into the back of the large wagon that could easily hold eight people, convinced that by the end of the ride through town, her resolve to keep her distance from Gage Remington would be completely shattered.

  The man was entirely too charming for her own good.

  Chapter Five

  No doubt about it, Gage Remington was now on the right track with both his grandfather and Doctor Cori Parker. No matter how badly he had wanted to kiss her and whisk her away to his private room last night, he had acted like the perfect gentleman. His psychologist would be proud of his self-control, a trait he’d all but abandoned. So now, as he settled onto a chair next to his grandfather inside the Henry Strater Theater, waiting for the annual auction to begin, he felt good about himself.

  It had already been a long morning, but due to his newfound ability to restrain himself, he’d cultivated a new tolerance to his grandfather’s dissatisfaction with just about everything. Grandpa Buck hadn’t liked most items in the buffet breakfast line that morning, and instead had ordered a Denver omelet with added jalapeño peppers. His coffee hadn’t been strong enough, and his orange juice hadn’t been fresh enough. Gage figured that Gramps was simply missing the way his wife would dote on him, and let it go at that.

  Gage, in contrast, had enjoyed his breakfast, including the mellow coffee and the tart cranberry juice.

  Grandpa Buck had lingered over the silent auction memorabilia in the other room, deciding what he wanted to bid on as if each item had some special significance. In the end, he’d hardly bid on anything, despite Gage having encouraged him to bid on just about everything.

  “Keeping my money for the auction itself,” Buck had told him. “I heard the Keelson’s donated some of Zane’s fishing poles, and I intend to get me one. That is, if that persnickety pill, May Meriwether, don’t outbid me.”

  “Don’t worry about it, Gramps. I can afford to buy you anything you want.”

  Gramps hadn’t responded to the offer until they had found seats and even the seats were cause for debate.

  “I don’t need your money,” Gramps told Gage in no uncertain terms as he settled into the end chair. “I saved up for this event all year, and there ain’t no way I’m gonna let you waltz in here and make all that scrimpin’ a waste of my time.”

  “You can keep your money for something you really want to do,” Gage countered, as he made himself comfortable in the chair next to his grandfather and next to a chair with a black purse that looked familiar to Gage.

  “I’m already doing what I want. I don’t need you to interfere.”

  “Fine,” Gage told him, trying desperately not to get exasperated. “But if you change your mind, let me know.”

  “I won’t,” Gramps stated, defiantly.

  The room buzzed with anticipation. Even Gage felt the excitement of the moment. He had loved Zane Grey’s books when he was a kid, Riders of the Purple Sage, in particular, and still admired the determination and the adventurous spirit of the author. Zane, like Gage’s grandfather when he was a very young man, had traversed the globe when traveling was accomplished only by sheer determination of the individual. They’d both done big-game fishing in oceans, streams and seas that were crowded with fish double and sometimes triple their size. Zane had helped develop his own reel and poles that could snare those kinds of goliaths with little effort.

  His grandfather had saved his money from putting in long hours working on ranches throughout the West, and little by little he cobbled together a spread in eastern Idaho that rivaled any other ranch in the Teton Valley. Despite countless setbacks both financial and personal—the accidental death of his older brother being one of them—by the time he was thirty-five, he not only ran a lucrative cattle ranch, but he produced more russet potatoes than any other farmer in the area.

  Both men were a testament to the American spirit, to the American cowboy and to what the West and the miles of open land had meant to them.

  Emotions welled up inside of Gage as he sat next to his grandfather, a man who represented everything Zane Grey had written about: the true American cowboy.

  Three women sat at a folding table off to the right of the stage. Each of them played a role in keeping tabs on the details of the auction. Numbered paddles had been handed out to the eager participants. Numerous cardboard boxes were stacked up on the stage, along with movie posters in various sizes. Hailey and two other older boys stood at the ready to deliver the memorabilia to the winning bidder, while the president of the Zane Grey West Society gave the opening statement.

  As the president told the impatient group about some of the items that would be coming up for auction and how the event would be handled, Gage spotted Cori and her grandmother entering the room. His heart slammed against his chest just watching Cori walk toward him. Fortunately, his gramps didn’t see them come in. He was too busy concentrating on the speaker.

  Then, in what had to be a turn of fate, the two women took their seats, which happened to be at Gage’s table.

  “What the heck, son?” Grandpa Buck whispered.

  Gage held up his hands in surrender. “I had no idea.”

  “Did you plan this?” Grandma May asked Cori.

  “No. Of course not.”

  “Is there a problem?” the speaker asked staring right at him and the group at his table, everyone in the room focused on Gage’s table.

  Grandpa Buck started to say something, but Gage cut him right off. “No, sir, just anxious for the auction to begin.”

  “Damn straight,” Buck said.

  The room erupted with laughter.

  “Well, then, let’s get on with it.”

  “This ought to be interesting,” a man at the next table offered.

  Grandma May seemed as if she was about to jump across the table and attack the man, but Cori held her down. “It’s going to be fine.”

  “Let the games begin,” an older man said. He sat at the table directly in front of them.

  Gage looked to Cori for assurance, and instead she merely shrugged, giving him a queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.

  Oh, yeah, everything was right on track...for a complete disaster.

  * * *

  THE AUCTION WAS practically an all-day affair, with many of the first-edition books going for close to a thousand dollars each, depending on its condition and whether or not the dust jacket had some wear. So far, Gage had been able to outbid the entire room for most of the books he’d wanted, leaving everyone frustrated by his unabashed hoarding.

  “There’s only one thing I want,” Cori’s gram told her. “I want that Hardy-Zane reel, and his reed fishing pole. Zane liked to fish just like your grandpa did. Of course, Zane could afford a lot of poles and reels and he fished all over the world. Your gramps only fished in local streams and rivers. As long as he had his Zane Grey angler, he’d catch enough trout and bass to last us weeks at a time. Your gram
ps used to own one almost exactly like the one going up for auction.”

  “What happened to the one Gramps owned?”

  “I had to sell it. Needed the money after your grandpa passed.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me you were having financial problems? I would’ve been happy to help.”

  Gram gave her a hug. “I know, but your grandpa and me liked to do things for ourselves. I think you might know something about that kind of self-reliance. Never took a dime from your own parents after Hailey’s dad passed. Always wanted to do it on your own. Still do. I’ve learned since then that sometimes it’s good to ask for help, good to lean on somebody else for support. Makes us stronger.”

  Cori stopped herself from countering, thinking that her grandmother might be right. They’d both been so stubborn about standing on their own two feet that sometimes Cori had inadvertently alienated some of her friends and family members who had offered assistance. And Cori had gone even further and closed off her heart to the potential of loving another man. She’d taken on extra hours, so she didn’t have to think about her loneliness, and substituted time with her daughter with time with her patients. And in the end, everyone suffered, especially her sweet daughter.

  She glanced at Gage, wondering if she could ever lose her heart to a man like him, a man who struggled with alcohol and had a money addiction and an estranged family. Who could ride a horse as good as any cowboy, make her smile for almost no reason, took the time to escort his grandfather to the conference, and was winning her daughter’s respect.

  Could she fall for this man?

  “Next up I have one of Zane Grey’s anglers, complete with a Hardy-Zane reel. I’m starting the bid at one-thousand. Who will bid one thousand?”

  Buck held up his numbered paddle, and a couple seconds later Cori’s gram held up her paddle and said, “One thousand two hundred.”

  “I have one thousand two hundred for Zane’s rod and reel,” the president said in response.

  “Two thousand,” an older man with thick gray hair called out from a table in front of them.

  “Two thousand one hundred,” Buck yelled, holding up his paddle.

  Instantly, Cori’s gram called out another two hundred, then Buck countered with three hundred more and it went back and forth until the bid reached twenty-nine hundred dollars, with both Cori’s gram and Buck standing and glaring at each other.

  Cori knew how much her Gram wanted the angler, but she also knew that twenty-nine hundred dollars was way too much money for her gram to dole out.

  “Three thousand dollars,” Cori yelled, thinking that would put an end to it, and for a while it did. The room fell silent but for the president. “I have three thousand dollars, going once, going...”

  “Three thousand two hundred,” Gage declared, holding up his paddle.

  “Three thousand three hundred,” Cori shouted.

  “Four thousand dollars,” Gage countered.

  Cori was about to bid when her grandmother stopped her. “No, Corina-May. That’s too much, and Buck’s grandson won’t stop. I don’t want it if it’s going to be like this. Let them have the dang thing.”

  “Four thousand going once,” the president said.

  “Gram, let me do this for you.”

  Gram placed her paddle down on the table. “I don’t want it and if you keep this up, I won’t forgive you for being so foolish with your hard-earned money.” Then she folded her arms and sat back on the chair.

  Cori knew her grandmother well enough that if she kept up the bidding war, she’d never hear the end of it. She had no choice but to relent to Gage.

  “Going twice... Sold to number fifty-four.”

  “Yes!” Gage said, looking all proud of himself, patting the table, then making a fist and punching air. Cori could see him buying and selling millions of dollars’ worth of commodities on the trading floor with nothing more than a hand gesture. The man was truly obsessed with the win, and nothing else seemed to matter, not even the effect he was having on Cori or her gram.

  Cori overheard Buck say, “I hope you know that’s yours, son. I told you not to get involved. This was something I wanted to do on my own. There’s no limits on you, is there?” He stood. “Dang fool.”

  “We’ll talk about it later, Gramps. Right now, we need to celebrate our win,” Gage mumbled as the president went on to auctioning a large movie poster from the nineteen forty-one Zane Grey movie Western Union.

  “Ain’t gonna be no discussion,” Buck said, then quickly left the table before Hailey brought over the rod and reel and handed it to Gage, who accepted the contested prize, thanking Hailey as she turned and skipped back to the stage. She was doing a great job handing out the auctioned merchandise, and Cori gave her a little smile and nod as she went by.

  “You two ruined everything,” Grandma May said as she followed right behind Buck. “I hope you’re happy.”

  Her comments caught Cori by complete surprise. She knew her grandmother was upset with Gage, but she had no idea her dissatisfaction included Cori’s behavior as well. Cori was merely doing what she thought would please her grandmother.

  “But Gram, I...”

  May strutted past Cori and never looked back.

  “Going once. Going twice. Sold to number eighty-three for fifty dollars.”

  * * *

  THE REMAINDER OF the auction went by in a blur as Gage reveled in every win. Cori acknowledged his victories, but never really gave him another glance, even though he’d tried on several occasions to get her attention. He’d allowed her to win a first edition of Betty Zane, and he’d stepped back when a small movie poster went up for auction of The Last Trail. And he hadn’t bid at all when an autographed picture of a middle-aged Zane Grey went up for auction and sold to a colorful woman with bright red hair at the next table.

  When the auction ended and Gage walked up to the women who collected the money, he noticed that Cori hung back in line and didn’t seem to want to talk to him, which was fine by him. The auction had showed her true colors. She’d known how much he wanted to impress his grandfather, yet she still bid on the one thing his grandfather really wanted and drove the price up to an absurd amount.

  “It’s all in good fun, right?” he said as she finally approached the front of the line. He’d waited for her after paying for the rod, reel, several first-edition books and a poster.

  “If you say so,” she said, without looking at him. As if she had something to be angry about. He was the one that should be carrying the grudge, yet there he was, being a gentleman.

  He bent over to try to get her to look at him, which she would not. “Are you angry?”

  “Hurt, more than anything else.” Her expression reminded him of his wife when she had asked for a divorce, completely stoic. As if they had no history together. Granted, he and Cori shared only a two-day history, but still, did she have to be so cold?

  “It’s an auction. The guy with the most money wins.”

  “I know, but my gram really wanted that rod and reel.”

  “So did my gramps, and you know how I’m trying to get on his good side.”

  Cori handed the woman seated at the table a credit card. “That’s not what I overheard. It sounded more like he was angry that you bought it for him.”

  She had a point. However, he was counting on a different outcome once his gramps held it in his hands, and the reality sunk in that he now owned one of Zane’s original fishing anglers.

  “That can’t be true. You must not have heard him correctly. He’s thrilled. I’m sure of it.” The woman swiped Cori’s card on a mobile credit card reader attached to a tablet, and seconds later Cori was signing her name on the small screen. Gage had done the same thing only a few minutes before. The line was moving quickly due to modern technology. Even though most everyone at the c
onference was in their golden years, none of them seemed to lack knowledge in the high-tech world. Even his gramps owned the latest smartphone.

  “Maybe so, but I think we should keep our distance from now on. Nothing good can come from our attempt at being friends. It only leads to bad feelings.”

  Her words stung, especially after the previous night, when they’d had such a good time together. Still, if that was how she wanted to play it, then fine. He hadn’t liked how selfish and uncaring she’d been about the auction, anyway.

  “It’s probably easier on both of us if we don’t get involved.”

  She looked him in the eyes. “Who said anything about getting involved? I was referring to a possible friendship. Nothing more.”

  “Of course. That’s exactly what I was referring to, our friendship,” Gage said, wondering why she would go to such extremes over losing the bid. It smacked of being a sore loser, a vice she should have learned to overcome when she was Hailey’s age.

  “Perfect. Then we’ve agreed not to be friends.”

  “Yes. I mean no. I mean, we are not now and never will be friends. If that’s how you want it.” He knew she was angry over the loss of the fishing rod, but this new attempt at total isolation from one another during the remainder of the conference seemed ridiculous, especially since she knew as well as he did there was a chemistry between them that couldn’t be denied.

  “Me? I’m not the one who acted like a pompous ass. Just because you’re part of the one percent, you don’t have to flaunt it in everyone’s face.”

  “Believe me, I’m a long way from being part of the one percent. And what if I was? Why is that a bad thing? Doesn’t everyone want to be rich?”

  She retrieved her credit card, shoved it into her purse, picked up the books and posters she’d purchased and headed for the door without saying another word. Gage followed right behind her, juggling his bounty in his arms.

  “That’s not the point. This is why we can’t be friends. You can’t even stay on topic.” She picked up her pace still walking in front of him.