Ash Peterson sauntered up, catching his son, Will, and giving him an affectionate rub on the head before he turned to Ace and Kemp and said, “Jack called. They’re losing the light, and they need more help out at the fence break in the eastern pasture. Nothing’s wrong, there’s just more cattle that got through the fence than they realized.”
Ace looked at Kemp, and they nodded. Ace pointed out several men they could take with them, including Richard Warner, and said if Duke and Gage were through, they could go help, as well. Evidently not all were fans of animated movies and left more than willingly.
“This is why we went into security,” Ace replied. “Less trouble.” He arched an eyebrow at her, and she chuckled.
“By the way,” she said with a snicker, “I heard you guys killed it at the Wheelchair Drag Race Relay this morning. I would’ve loved to have seen you dressed up as Elsa for Team Frozen.”
Ace pointed at Kemp. “Actually, he was Elsa, and I was Anna. Those wigs itched like crazy, but it was worth it to see Jack, Ethan, and Adam in platform heels and pearls.”
Erin made a gagging sound and shuddered. “Don’t remind me! What has been seen can never be unseen. Hairy legs do not look good in fishnet stockings.”
Both men burst into laughter, and Kemp said, “I don’t know where Charity found those silver platform heels, but Ethan has surprisingly good balance.”
“Blech!” Erin said, waving her hands and having another full-body shudder. “Things you never expect to hear your uber-masculine brother say. ‘Hey, Sis, can you help me with my false eyelashes?’”
“Those three were really good sports about it. I guess that’s why they got the most donations and wound up winning the race. The crowd loved it, although I think we have an underground crowd of old-timers who have been to a few late-night showings of Rocky Horror Picture Show.”
“Maybe so! I heard Amelia Owen was spotted leading a chorus of ‘Sweet Transvestite’ with Charlene and Evelyn on the sidelines before the race. I’d better get back to work. Enjoy the movie,” she called as she turned back to her charges emerging from the house.
Madison and Ellie ran to her, and Ellie said, “Miss Erin, there’s a scary man in the house.”
“Hmm?”
“I saw him in the hallway when we went to the potty. He asked me what my name was. He was big and scary,” Madison said.
“He’s probably just one of the men who work on the ranch or who’s here helping this weekend. Did he look like Mr. Ace and Mr. Kemp?”
“Uh-huh,” Madison said with a nod.
“Nuh-uh,” Ellie countered. “He had longer hair, and he wasn’t wearing a suit.”
“Oh, I know who you mean. His name is Mr. Duke, and he’s Dr. Emma’s husband. He told me he was going inside. He has longer dark hair and he’s pretty tall. Is that who you think you saw?”
“Could be,” Madison said with a nod and a pooched lip. “Is my tiara on straight?”
“It looks gorgeous, honey.” She pointed to the grassy area of the yard beneath several mature oaks, where the lawn chairs and improvised outdoor theater had been set up. “Go pick out your chairs for the movie. I’ll be starting it soon.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Ellie called, holding on to her cousin’s arm and fluffing her feather boa with the other hand before they followed right behind her. She laughed and let them. Herding cats was easier than directing kids.
* * * *
From backstage, Tank watched in consternation as Luka and Matthias strutted around under the lights. The first several auctions had brought surprisingly high bids and also gotten the attendees warmed up.
Standing off to the side looking very amused, Chris Potter kept the bidding strong, listing all the Martinez brothers’ many assets and probably making up a few as he went.
In his best auctioneer’s riff, Chris called out, “Whooo’ll give me five hundred for this prime pair of Divine Cowboy Beefcake? I see five hundred there in the front row! Whooo’ll give me six? Right over there in the corner! Whooo’ll give me seven?”
Luka undid a button on his shirt and flashed a pectoral. Many of the women in the audience screamed and egged them on. Matthias played along for the most part, doing the same.
Juliana Peterson, the wife of the Divine Creek Ranch foreman, Ash, stood beside Chris, serving as emcee for the event, probably wondering if this was a bachelor auction or a strip show.
“I’m not doing that,” Tank said.
When Troy didn’t reply, Tank looked over at him. His blood brother looked a little pale around the gills, and Tank took firm hold of his shoulder.
“Listen. They’re having fun. That’s all.”
Troy drew a deep breath and looked at him and nodded. The women kept screaming. And every time they screamed, especially since there were so many of them, it triggered anxiety, taking Troy back to his Army days in Iraq during Operation Iraqi Freedom. In battles to gain control of towns, villages, and cities, they were often charged with clearing civilians, trying to save them from friendly fire and from being blown up by their own people. Innocent women and children sometimes were used as human shields by sons of bitches too cowardly to come into the light and fight like men.
Troy had always enjoyed social settings, and since returning home, he’d worked hard to overcome the anxiety. They both had. But the memories were strong, and settings like concerts, rodeos, carnivals, where people screamed in fun…they were “no goes” most of the time.
When they’d committed to this, neither of them had factored in the fan hysteria that had been inflamed by the viral video personal ad his mom had uploaded to YouTube. And she had no idea about Troy’s PTSD.
Another wave of screaming catcalls came from the crowd in the chairs arranged around the stage.
Troy cracked his knuckles and then shook out his hands. “I got this. They’re just having fun. Jessica is going to win us, and this is all going to be a memory soon.”
A woman jumped up and waved her paddle. “Five thousand dollars!”
Tank and Troy looked at each other with wide eyes. Troy said, “Did I hear that right?”
“Ten thousand!”
Tank leaned farther out to watch. The ladies were getting serious about this bidding. Chris took a moment to confirm the most recent bid and then continued, bringing in a bid for eleven thousand. That was much higher than either of them had anticipated bidding might go, and they were the ones who had drawn the crowd. All he could think of was the new roof the kid’s advocacy center in Divine desperately needed, the beefed-up security fencing at the domestic violence shelter, and the new equipment that the kids’ hospital in Kerrville needed. One of his nephews had been treated there at no cost to his struggling family, thanks to just such a donor.
Troy leaned forward with him, his attention firmly on the bidding that had skyrocketed.
Tank looked at him, at the renewed determination in his blood brother’s eyes, and said, “It’s a good cause, right?”
Troy gave a short nod. “This is the reason we’re doing this. I’m good.” He blotted his forehead on his shirtsleeve and looked calmer. “And Jessica might have the winning bid. Hopefully.”
Tank nodded and risked a peek through the curtain but couldn’t spot Jessica in the crowd. The waiters and waitresses were hurrying around, bussing the tables and stripping them down. She wasn’t visible among that group either.
“Going once! Going Twice! Two prime sexy cowboy beefcake sold for twenty-five thousand dollars!”
The crowd of women went wild.
Veronica ran up the steps to the stage, a look of excitement on her face, and handed Juliana a piece of paper.
Juliana took the note from her, her eyes popped open wide, and she reached for Chris’s microphone. “Ladies, you’re not going to believe who just arrived. I’m still a little shocked.” She looked over at Veronica. “You’re sure about this?”
From backstage, Tank could hear Veronica when she said, “They just got here. They’re pulled aroun
d back and they’re showering and changing clothes right now.”
“Ladies, let me take a quick intermission,” Juliana said, handing the microphone back to Chris. With his usual brash charm, he took the mike back and began reminding the crowd of who was up next on the auction block, namely them.
Juliana rushed right up to him and Troy. “Guys, there’s been a change in plans. I know we saved you for last, but True and Noble Strong just showed up! They were on tour, heard what we were doing, and now—surprise, they’re here and ready to help. They told Veronica they want to be auctioned off for charity.”
“I thought that Noble had a girlfriend or some such thing,” Tank said. “I read it in People Country. Some blonde from Hollywood.”
Juliana snorted. “Evidently one of them got sick of the other because True and Noble are both ready to be auctioned off for”—she peered at the note—“a night of gentlemanly entertainment, for a worthy cause.” She held out the note so they could see. At the bottom, scrawled in a different hand were the words And tell them we’re single!
“Juliana, why are you telling us? Does this get us off the hook?”
Juliana squeaked and then laughed. “Are you kidding? No, you’re not off the hook, cowboys. But you did just lose top billing.”
Troy laughed so hard he wheezed. “Fine by us!”
“Good, because you’re up next. Careful how close you get to the edge of the stage. There’s some kilt inspectors with handy selfie sticks in the audience.”
She gave them a once-over and then boldly reached out and yanked loose the ties that held the drawstring fronts of their shirts closed. “You don’t have to put everything on the bottom shelf to be sexy, but that oughta help.” She winked and ran back to the stage, taking the mike back from Chris in mid-sentence.
“Hey, I was telling a joke!”
“You can deliver your punchline in a second, cowboy. Ladies, I hope you’re ready for some major exciting news. The #gingerhotties are next, and then we have a surprise pair of bachelors we’re going to offer up to the highest bidder.”
Chanting started up in the back of the crowd. Evidently they were tired of waiting and didn’t want to hear anything else until they got what they wanted.
“Ginger hotties! Ginger hotties! Ginger hotties!”
“All right, all right! Just don’t tuck away your bank rolls after the ginger hotties because you’re not going to believe who’s here.”
“Ginger hotties! Ginger hotties!”
Tank peeked out, and even the older ladies were on their feet, chanting and cheering. His mom looked incredibly pleased with herself.
Juliana held out a hand to settle them down. “The men you’ve all been waiting for. The redheads who rule the internet…the virile viral men of valor…the gingers with all the juice…the beefcake with all the blushes, the—”
“Did she use a dictionary to come up with all that bullshit?” Tank groused, but at least Troy wasn’t freaking out as the chanting got louder and women started to scream in excitement.
“The bachelors of #gingerhottiesrule! Tank Drummond and Troy Burnett!”
Loud music began playing an intro for them as they took the first few steps.
“I can’t feel my feet,” Troy called as the beat of the music pounded out for “Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy.”
“Just follow me,” Tank called back as they stalked onto the stage like the steadfast, studly, kilted hotties that they were.
Jessica, I hope you’re out there!
Chapter Twenty-Six
At first, Jessica had planned to just sign the check for four hundred thousand dollars that Brian had given her over to Grace Warner, the money to be divided evenly between the charities. She didn’t want anything to do with money that came from the sale of Dornan land.
It’d been obvious from the looks on their handsome faces that her men might’ve admired her intentions, but they disapproved of her plan.
Brian had been the one to change her mind, though, telling her exactly what his father and his brother had thought of women getting an education that enabled them to do more than read a recipe book. He’d also told her, with a twinkle in his eyes, that his father had always said there wasn’t a woman in the world fit to run a business, much less one he’d ever frequent. They were all too soft in the head or too difficult to deal with.
She’d portioned the majority of the Dornan legacy aside as an education fund for Bella. Her daughter would be able to attend practically any college she wanted to, plus have a little for living expenses, if it was invested wisely. Or if Bella chose a different route for her future, to become self-employed, she’d have the seed money to capitalize her business properly.
That’d left a tidy sum for paying off Jessica’s medical debt, the small balance on her school loans, and for bidding on two gorgeous #gingerhotties. She’d paid those bills off the following day and opened a trust fund for Bella where she could park her college money until she figured out the best way to invest it for growth.
With the thirty-five thousand dollars she’d retained, she’d offer the winning bid on her men and gladly write the check for the whole amount so the Dornan legacy could finally do some good in the world.
Only she’d just been outbid.
Chris Potter pointed to the opposite corner of the room. “Thirty-six thousand there in the back of the room! Whooo’ll give me thirty-seven thousand for these prime beefcake #gingerhotties?”
When Luka and Matthias had gone for a mind-boggling twenty-five thousand dollars, a hollow pit had formed in her gut. These women had come from all over, probably because of the viral video and all the internet chatter trending because of it. Earlier in the week, a prominent national morning show had even featured a twenty-second clip of the video, pointing out that the two ginger hotties were being auctioned off for charity. Jessica was relieved that she hadn’t been caught up in the story. She should’ve known the bidding would go higher.
She did the math in her head. Even if she dipped into the pad she maintained in her bank account, it wasn’t deep enough to—
“I have thirty-seven thousand bid by the brunette in the front! Whooo’ll give me thirty-eight?”
Yeah, she’d definitely been outbid. Chris met her eye across the room, asking her nonverbally if she wanted to counter the bid. “Do I hear thirty-eight-five? Thirty-eight-five?”
She wouldn’t dip into her daughter’s “future fund.” That was exactly the kind of thing her mother would’ve done, to satisfy the need to win.
She shook her head, and a paddle shot up across the room.
“Thirty-nine thousand to the generous lady in the corner. Do I hear forty? Whooo’ll give me forty thousand?”
There was no point in staying, and she backed toward the kitchen. Tank and Troy stood stalwart, hiding their consternation behind serious expressions. They’d been squinting out into the audience, maybe trying to spot her, but the bright lights shining down on their brilliant hair prevented that. Gorgeous modern-day warriors clad in their traditional family tartans, Tank in blue and red and Troy in red and green. The black combat boots added just a bit of edgy badass to the traditional outfit.
The question wasn’t “who” would bid, as they’d presumed all along, but “how high” the bidding would go.
“Whooo’ll give me forty-one thousand? Forty-one thousand?”
Her gut squeezed.
Another paddle popped into the air from the opposite corner, and an unfamiliar, female voice called out, “One hundred thousand dollars!”
Chris’s jaw dropped, but he quickly recovered. “Say again, ma’am?”
“You heard right! One hundred thousand dollars for a worthy cause! Who will challenge me?” Shocked whispering stirred the air, and the growing excitement was palpable.
There was a slight hesitation, and a paddle went up from the other corner. “One hundred and ten thousand dollars!”
This is happening. They’re fighting over them tooth and nail. There’s no
way I could’ve competed. And for that kind of money…what would they expect from Tank and Troy?
Before Chris could utter a word, the other paddle shot up again. “One hundred and fifty thousand dollars!”
The quiet was deafening as seconds ticked by. Across the room, Charity had her phone to her ear, probably relaying the bidding war to Grace at the ranch as it happened.
Chris looked to the other bidder and then gave his attention to the audience. “The bidding stands at one hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Do I hear one sixty? One hundred and sixty thousand dollars for the #gingerhotties. One sixty one sixty one sixty!” Chris directed his gaze around the room, searching out the bidders for any counteroffer. “The high bid stands at one hundred fifty thousand dollars. Going once. Going twice…”
She jumped at the sound of the gavel on the lectern. The cheering was deafening. Charity ran for the front door, phone still to her ear. When Grace found out who else had arrived to be auctioned off, all of her dreams of helping worthy charities were going to shoot through the roof. That was good.
“Sold to bidder number nine-oh-one for one hundred and fifty thousand dollars! Thank you very much, bidder number nine-oh-one, for donating to a worthy cause. Sheesh, I need a drink!”
The kitchen doors swung behind Jessica as she made her exit. She could hear Juliana’s voice muffled through the wall, and then the cheering reached a new crescendo as the crowd discovered who was in attendance to bring the auction to a resoundingly successful close.
“Ivan, are you done with me for the evening? I think I’m going to head over to the ranch to pick up Bella.”
Bella had been invited to spend the night, but right then, Jessica needed to hold her daughter.
“Sure thing, Jessica, and thanks for much for all your help. You did a fantastic job. Hey…” The sweet silver fox that Cassie was so thoroughly in love with stepped directly into her path. “You okay?”
“I’m awesome,” and a little embarrassed you’re seeing me with pink cheeks and teary eyes. “Just really tired…and allergies,” she added, wiping under her eyes and then smiling. “Darned allergies.”
Operation Ginger Avenger [Divine Creek Ranch 24] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 28
