“Well.” He rubbed his palms on his jeans. “Better get the kid to bed.”
“Yes, you’d better. And thanks again.” She turned and headed back to the farmhouse, her heartbeat pounding at the back of her throat.
Damn! What am I doing? I just passed up a perfect chance to seduce the man and get one up on Michelle.
But as she entered the house and headed upstairs to her bed, she knew why she hadn’t taken advantage of the romantic moment outside the cabin. Forming a relationship shouldn’t be a competition. It had to come from the heart, at least the kind she was looking for.
Chapter Eleven
Damn, damn, damn! Jordan Brooks swore silently as he watched her go. She was one terrific woman, and here he stood, trapped, with four kids in his custody, a recording contract, and a movie deal that wouldn’t allow him any other kind of serious relationship. If it weren’t for Annie Wise and her conniving… The kiss that morning had only worsened the situation. Now he definitely wanted her, with a passion that was all but overwhelming him.
Chaffing with repressed desires, he watched until Shelby was safely inside the house, then re-entered the cabin to pull shirt and jeans off her brother.
****
“Well, that blows it!” Shelby punched out on her cell and shoved it into her pocket.
“Blows what?” Jordan came out of the stall he’d been mucking and leaned on his pitchfork.
“Kirby Nelson is coming this morning to see Black. With Travis sleeping off a hangover, there’s no way that stallion is going to behave.”
“Kirby Nelson, the baseball player? The Kirby Nelson?” The pitchfork loosened in his grip. “Ah, man!”
“I guess.” She dropped dejectedly into a chair. “I don’t follow any other sports but equestrian. He’s looking for a stud to breed his daughter’s prize mare. He wants a foal that can keep his only child winning in the show ring. But without Travis to handle him, Black will act the very devil.” She pulled out the phone. “I’m going to ask him to come some other time.”
“Hold on.” Jordan stopped her with a hand on her arm. “Kirby Nelson is a busy man. He’ll probably be in this area for only a day, two at most. If you tell him he can’t come today, he’ll probably never get back here. He’s your first celebrity client, isn’t he?”
“Aside from you, yes.”
“So you can’t miss an opportunity for the free advertising you’ll get by breeding a mare belonging to a baseball superstar like Kirby Nelson.”
“So what do you suggest? Are you going to saddle up twelve hundred pounds of raw horsepower with an attitude and try to impress the man with your skill?”
“Maybe.”
“Now you’re talking crazy.” She shrugged him off and again reached for the phone. Again he stopped her.
“Look, I know I can’t ride like Travis, but I can sing the songs that keep the big guy under control. At least let’s give it a try.”
“You mean you’d be willing to risk riding Black?” She stared at him, wide-eyed.
“Sure. I may be a counterfeit cowboy, but Kirby Nelson doesn’t know it. And you said yourself I’m coming along well. Come on, Shelby. It’s worth a try.”
****
“I’ll be lovin’ you forever,” Jordan sang as he led the saddled stallion into the indoor arena. Shelby had insisted she’d only allow him to attempt to ride Midnight Black in its relative safety.
Wish those damn butterflies in my belly would light somewhere. I have to do a good job for her. She’s counting on me. Well, here goes nothing.
He put his foot in the left stirrup, sang a bit louder as the big horse moved restlessly, then swung himself up and into the saddle. Black snorted, shook his bridle, and pawed the soft earth.
God help me, I must either be crazy or... I’m probably going to be killed.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Shelby replace the bar across the entrance and settle her hands on her hips. She looked as calm as a mountain lake. She apparently had faith in him and what his music could do. Beside her stood Kirby Nelson and his horse trainer, Johnny Branch. Breathing a silent prayer and continuing to sing, Jordan adjusted his bottom in the saddle and walked the animal around the perimeter.
“Nice-looking stud.” The ballplayer crossed his arms on his broad chest and grinned. “And, hey, your stable hand isn’t a bad singer. Adds a nice touch to this little show.”
“His mother was a Roy Rogers fan.” She shrugged. “He’s got a fixation on singing cowboys. Get him into a trot, Jake,” she called.
Okay, here goes. Life or death. In the saddle or flying through the air.
Jordan touched his heels lightly to the stallion’s sides. Black threw up his head, making the bridle jingle. Sweet Jesus. Jordan sang louder and the horse settled into a trot.
“Very nice. Now let’s see a lope.” Johnny Branch made the request.
“Lope him, Jake,” she called.
Is that my life flashing in front of me? Well, it’s been a pretty good one…
Jordan sang louder as he touched his heels to Black’s sides. This time the change of gait went so smoothly he barely noticed the transition.
Thank you, God. Now if you can just keep me in the saddle for a few more minutes…
“Lookin’ good.” Johnny Branch shoved back his baseball cap, scratched his red-haired head, and grinned. “Bring him in and unsaddle him. I’d like to take a good look at his conformation.”
****
“That went well.” Jordan stood beside Shelby as she waved good-bye to the two satisfied occupants of the Lincoln Town Car heading back toward the highway. “Signed up, did they?”
“They’ll be bringing the mare as soon as she’s finished on the show circuit.” She squinted up at him in the sunlight. “Thanks to you.”
“Ah, shucks, ’tweren’t nothin’, Miss Shelby.” He pulled off Travis’s Stetson that he’d borrowed for the occasion and grinned. “An animal with the Black’s fair to middlin’ taste in music is pure joy, and that’s a sure enough fact.”
“Cut that out.” She couldn’t help chuckling. “I only agreed to coach you in riding, not listen to some convoluted notion of a country twang.”
“Fine. Now how about a beer? This fake cowboy is dry as a tick on a hound dog in the desert.”
****
They were heading for the house when the red convertible careened off the highway and revved down the drive in a cloud of dust. Its driver bypassed the house and bulleted on toward them. She braked to a swirling halt a few yards in front of them, cut the engine, and sat grinning smugly at them from behind her Foster Grants.
“Hey, Shelby.” Michelle Latton shoved long dark hair back over her shoulder. “I hear you got your horse back. Thought I’d drop by for the apology you owe me.”
“Okay, Michelle, I deserved that.” Shelby faced her squarely. “I’m sorry I accused you of taking Black. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to get lunch for Jake and Travis.”
“You go right ahead.” Removing her sunglasses, she swung out of the convertible and sashayed over to Jordan, twirling the glasses between manicured fingers. “Jordan and I will take a little tour of your stables. We have a few things to talk about.”
“Jake is a hired hand. He has work to do that doesn’t include guided tours of an area you already know.”
“Oh, come off it, Shelby.” She glowered at her. “We both know that ruse has fallen off the wagon. In fact—” She slipped her arm through Jordan’s. “I just got another call from one Ann Wise. Seems she’s firmed up that audition with the same producer who is making Jordan’s movie. So your secret is safe…at least until after we see how the audition goes. Now…” She slanted him an eyelash-fluttering glance. “What else do you do around here besides take riding lessons and shovel manure?” She let her gaze roam over him from head to toe. “Seems a waste…in more ways than one.”
“Not the way I look at it.” His face twitched into what he hoped wasn’t an all-out sneer.
�
��Well, if you get tired of Shelby’s teaching methods, just mosey on over to my place. There’s a few things I can show you that I’ll just bet she can’t.” She winked up at him before turning back toward her car. “See you, Shelby. Be happy I didn’t decide to sue for defamation of character.”
Putting her sunglasses back in place, she slid behind the wheel of her BMW. She started the motor and revved it before she swung the vehicle in a wide circle around the couple, tearing up grass, and then gunned down the drive to the road.
“Quite a character.” Jordan’s lips jerked up at the ends.
“That’s a polite description.” They started on toward the house.
“She isn’t shy about stating what she wants.” Jordan followed her inside and headed for the refrigerator. “Man, she all but undressed me with her eyes.” He took out two longnecks and passed her one. “I may come across as a simple country boy, but I’d have to be mentally challenged not to have caught her meaning. But she did leave me wondering about what she could show me that you couldn’t. I’m not sure she was talking about horseback riding, either.”
“Well, I guess you’ll just have to go on wondering, cowboy. At least if you plan to stay on my premises. I’ve grown accustomed to her, so a lot of what she says just flies over my head.” Shelby accepted the ice-cold bottle. She raised her beer, and he clicked his against it. “Cheers. Here’s to us for completing a successful morning.”
“Yeah, good for us. Let’s take these out onto the verandah, where we can enjoy the sea breeze.”
****
“Man, that’s the last time I drink like that.” Travis came up onto the verandah and flopped down on the hammock, an ice bag in one hand. “I haven’t felt this bad since I can’t remember when.”
“You’ll live.” Jordan quirked a grin at Shelby. “Believe me. Been there, felt like that.”
“Good to hear.” Travis closed his eyes and covered them with the bag. “Thanks for putting me up at the cabin last night, Jake. I wasn’t something Shelby should have had to deal with. This morning I didn’t think I’d live to see my next birthday…and then I was afraid I would.”
“Jake showed Midnight Black to a client this morning.” Shelby winked at Jordan.
“What!” Travis bolted upright, ice bag dropping into his lap. “Ouch! And he’s…you’re—” He turned to the man sitting on the railing.
“We’re both still in one piece and doing just fine, thank you very much.” Jordan saluted him with the beer bottle. “Thus the celebratory drink.”
“You sang to him.” Travis sank back onto the hammock, a weak but knowing grin on his face. “Man, it even hurts to smile.”
“Worked like a charm.”
“Great.” Travis eased back into a reclining position and replaced his ice bag. “So does this mean you’ll be taking over Black’s training?” He shot Shelby a conspiratorial wink.
“Not on your life, chum. I barely stayed in the saddle for the loping bit. Pure luck Kirby Nelson isn’t a horseman and his trainer was too interested in the horse to pay much attention to the rider.”
“Kirby Nelson…the Kirby Nelson? And I missed out on meeting him!”
“Sometimes punishment comes in strange packages.” Shelby arose. “Now it’s time for lunch.” She turned to Jordan. “Think your stomach can handle it?”
“As long as it’s not deep-fried and served after midnight.” He got up. “Let me help. I don’t think your number-one hand is in any shape for it.”
“Just get me a large Alka-Seltzer,” Travis moaned and rolled over on his side.
“Sleep it off, little brother. That’s the only cure.”
Jordan followed Shelby inside.
“Best lesson he’ll ever get about drinking.” He sat down at the kitchen table to finish his beer as Shelby took a ham from the refrigerator and began to make sandwiches. “Nothing better than feeling like death warmed over to convince a man not to do that again.”
“And you speak from experience?”
“Sure do. Did the same thing on my twenty-first. Luckily I had a big brother who acted as designated driver that night.”
“Just like you did for Travis.” She paused in taking bread from its box and turned to him. “Thanks, Jordan. I really appreciate it.”
“Not a problem. Glad to have the chance to do it for someone else.”
“But Travis’s being temporarily out of commission today isn’t good. First of all, the Midnight Black situation, which, thanks to you, we were able to take care of. Now there’s the question of the feed order I need from town. Travis was supposed to pick it up after lunch, and somehow I don’t see him doing it. I can’t go, because I have patients scheduled.”
“I’ll go.” Jordan polished off his beer and stood. “I’ll check the horses, have lunch, and leave right after. I should be back by two thirty or three at the latest.”
“Thanks. That would be great. But be careful. Don’t let anyone recognize you.”
****
“Got the feed. Man, that thunderstorm was short but intense.” Jordan’s voice changed tone sharply as he stepped into the kitchen. “What happened?” Shelby sat at the table, her face deathly pale. Travis leaned against the cupboards, his complexion the same.
“There’s been an accident.” His words cracked with emotion. “Midnight Fantasy was in the back pasture when the storm broke. Shel couldn’t get to her in time. The mare freaked, tried to leap the fence and broke a leg. Shelby had to put her down.”
“Sweet Jesus!” Jordan stood staring at the pair, shock immobilizing him. “When?”
“About a half hour ago.” Travis shoved himself upright. “Jake, if you’ll take care of Shel, I’ll go and do…what has to be done.”
“Sure, sure.” As Travis passed him on his way to the door, he stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. Their eyes met, Travis’s swimming unashamedly with tears. Jordan could only nod his understanding before the younger man went out, letting the screen door slam behind him.
Jordan wet his lips and raked his mind about how to proceed. Words wouldn’t come. Instead he went to the counter, filled the electric kettle, plugged it in, and took a teapot down from a shelf. As he rummaged through the cupboards she spoke.
“What are you looking for?” Her voice sounded scratchy and raw.
“Teabags…even better, loose tea. Got any?”
“Above the stove. Why?”
“I’m making you hot, sweet tea…like my mother used to make whenever there was a family crisis.” He took out the bag of tea leaves.
“Thank you.” The pain in the two words hurt him.
“For what?” He turned to her. “Making tea? Maybe you’d better wait until you taste it before being grateful. I said my mother used to make it. I just watched. This will be a first attempt.” He smiled what he hoped was reassurance and caring.
“The tea is a nice gesture, but what I was really thanking you for was for understanding that Fantasy’s passing is a family tragedy.” She looked over at him and the tears came, streaming slowly down her cheeks to splash onto her hands clasped on the table.
“It’s okay.” He rounded the table in a flash, pulled a chair up beside her, and put an arm around her. And suddenly she was sobbing against his shoulder, sobbing deep, wrenching sobs that made his own heart ache.
“I know as a vet I’m supposed to see life and death as all part of the process, but Fantasy…that little mare gave her very best for me, jumped her heart out to try to help me win over Michelle. And then she gave me her baby, Fancy, the most gorgeous little mare we’ve ever had.”
Jordan felt a stinging sensation not far behind his own eyes. The kettle shrieked.
“You’d better get that.” With a ragged sniff, she pulled herself up in her chair and forced a smile. “We don’t want to burn the house down, as well.”
“Sure.” He got up, fetched a box of tissues from the top of the refrigerator for her, then went to unplug the kettle. As he swished hot water around in the
teapot to warm it, he glanced back and saw her fluttering damp eyelashes as she struggled to regain control.
“You look like a real tea-making pro.” She drew a deep, shaky breath and blew her nose.
“Just a keen observer.” He emptied the pot, measured in tea leaves, and poured boiling water over them. “We’ll discover what kind of visual learner I am in a few minutes.”
“I should be doing better. I’m a professional, a vet, for God’s sake. Putting animals out of their suffering comes with the territory, even if it is one of my own.”
“Before being a veterinarian, you’re first and foremost a human being.” He returned to the chair beside her while he waited for the tea to steep. “If you didn’t show emotion on losing a creature that you loved, you’d be something a lot less. But, like my wise, tea-making mother always said, ‘that which you have cherished in your heart, you can never lose.’ ”
“Your mother must be a very special person.” Shelby looked over at him as he slouched forward, arms extended on the table in front of him, hands clasped.
“She is. You’d like her.” He turned to face her, and her eyes, softened by sadness, caught at his heart. He wanted to hold her until the hurt and pain dissolved, until she felt right again, but he knew that wouldn’t be wise.
All he could do was be there beside her trying to let her know he cared and understood.
“Tea must be ready.” He shoved back his chair as he got to his feet. “Strong and hot and with lots of sugar.”
When he returned with a steaming mug, the gratitude in her expression caused a tightness in his chest.
“I think I’ll take this up to my room and rest for a few minutes.” She stood, an effort at a smile trembling at the corners of her lips. “I have a patient at four o’clock that I can’t let down. A half hour of rest will set me straight again.”
“Sure.” He moved to let her pass.
In the kitchen doorway she stopped and spoke without looking back at him. “Thank you, Jordan.”
“No problem.” The knot tightened in his throat. In using his real name she was thanking the actual man, not the phony farm hand. “I’ll go and see if I can help Travis.”
Counterfeit Cowboy Page 11
