Counterfeit Cowboy (19 page)

“Okay.” He leaned his fork back against the wall and followed Travis’s directions.

Inside the box stall he found Shelby, in a full-body coverall, standing beside the blanketed mare, gently massaging her neck and talking softly to her. The blue dress she’d worn to the wedding hung over the stall door wet and, in Jordan’s opinion, ruined.

At his entrance, the animal snorted but under Shelby’s calm voice settled back to quietness.

“ ’Evening, ma’am.” He spoke softly and smiled at her. “You appear to have done one fine job here.”

“I hope so.” She sighed and came to join him. “Her wounds are mostly superficial, her leg only bruised. I’ve iced it, and that should be all that’s required along with rest and quiet. Thanks again, Jordan. I really appreciated your help.”

“I didn’t do much. Unskilled labor.” Green eyes were looking up at him with such sincere gratitude it started an ache in his chest.

“Moral support is often best.” She dropped her gaze and returned to the mare.

Good. The moment had all the potential of getting out of hand
.

Her cell rang and she fished it from a pocket in her coveralls.

“Dr. Shelby Masters.” He saw weariness in her face and hoped it wasn’t another emergency call.

“Mr. Wells, yes, we have your mare here at the farm. Yes, she’s recovering nicely. How is Mr. Branch? Doing well? Wonderful. Yes, we can keep Grey Lady here for as long as you wish. Yes, I’ll send you a statement of account. Thank you, but I was happy to have been of service.”

She punched End and drew a deep breath.

“I take it that was a thank-you call from the famous Kirby Wells.”

“You guessed right.” She knelt to examine the mare’s bruised right front leg. “It’s a shame Mr. Branch had to have that accident when he was bringing the mare here. Kirby Wells wants me to keep Grey Lady here until she recovers, then breed her with Black. He also mentioned that he might let her stay here until the foal is born, since his daughter currently has a second horse and he wants this one to have constant veterinary care during her pregnancy. He said he’s prepared to pay for the best.”

“Well, that’s great, isn’t it? More business, and from a well-paying client. If this keeps up, you won’t need me and my pain-in-the-butt contract. You’ll be sending me packing.”

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he knew exactly how they sounded
. Needy. Hell, downright needy.

“Jordan, I signed a contract, and I don’t go back on my word. No matter how many good deals come my way in the next few weeks, I intend to fulfill my obligation to you.”

“Good. Well, then, good.” He leaned against the stall door and concentrated on his boots. “Dress pretty much ruined, I guess.” He turned the conversation as he indicated the rumpled garment slung over the boards.

“Pretty much.” She stood and walked around the mare, stroking her gently. “I changed into working clothes down here after Andy brought me home. Didn’t bother to hang it up. Not a major concern. I seldom have reason to wear anything like that.”

“You looked great in it, though,” he had to tell her, even though other thoughts were plaguing his brain. Had Crowell helped her change? Had they had a moment…?

“Thanks. Once in a while every woman has to honor her feminine side, no matter what her job.”

“In my books, you honor it every day. Shelby, I…” He took a step toward her, but she held up a hand.

“No, Jordan, don’t go there. We’ve established the parameters of our relationship. We’re not going back over them.”

“Okay, fine, if that’s what you want.” He sucked in a deep breath. “Is there anything I can do for you as your farm hand? Or would you prefer I make myself scarce?”

“There’s nothing you can do for me…as my farm hand.”

“Well, then, fine. I’ll head up to the cabin and tuck myself in. See you in the morning, boss.”

He turned and went into a night musty with farm smells after the rain. The air hung still and heavy. The storm may have passed, but its aftermath hadn’t.

Chapter Fifteen

“You haven’t given him a chance.” Jordan startled her with his sudden vehemence when he confronted her in the kitchen the following afternoon. “He’s good, really good. With a band and sound system like mine…”

“I don’t need to listen to anything digitally altered so that a squealing hog could sound good. I don’t need to know…”

“To know that if you’d had the proper backup in the form of a state-of-the-art jumper a dozen years ago you’d probably have made the National Equestrian Team? Can’t you see, I’m offering him an opportunity…with a state-of-the-art band.”

“And you’ll no doubt stack the deck by having your Annie tell him how great he is!” Heat rose up her body.

“No, that won’t be the case. I’m having an independent agent make an assessment of Travis’s work. I want to be sure, too. Do you think I want him hurt? Hell, he’s like a brother to me.”

“Really?” She looked him squarely in the eye.

“Yeah, really.” He held his ground. “Look, Shelby, you two are special to me, always will be, no matter what becomes of us…by that I mean you and me. I’d really like to do something special for you both, and right now Travis is the one up at the plate. Yesterday, on the beach with that injured horse, you were amazing. I admired your courage and respected your professionalism like I’ve done with very few people. I think those same characteristics will enable you to look at this situation objectively and make the right decision without allowing emotionalism to color it.”

“I don’t know…” She dropped her gaze to her feet and rubbed her hands along the counter behind her. “I want the very best for Travis. He’s all I’ve got in the way of family. I don’t want him to grow old harboring regrets that I could have prevented.” She looked up and met the sincerity in those killer blue eyes. “Okay. Do your damnedest, Jordan Brooks. Give my brother the best shot he can get.”

****

A week later, Shelby found herself seated in a shadowy balcony of a Moncton church where the acoustics were, according to Jordan, the best he’d found in the area. On the dais at the front, he and his band had assembled their equipment. She recognized the back of Ann Wise’s blonde head in the third row of seats. Beside the woman was a beefy-shouldered man wearing a grey suit jacket and a Stetson. Shelby guessed this was Jordan’s independent judge.

“Good evening, folks.” Jordan Brooks, affable grin in place, stepped to the mike as if he were addressing a full house. “Tonight we have a new member of our group. He’ll be singing backup and playing lead guitar on this first piece. Please welcome Travis Masters.”

Travis gave a quick nod of acknowledgement to the small audience, then turned his attention to his guitar.

Oh, please, please, Travis, don’t get shy now!

The moment her brother ran his fingers over the strings, her fears shattered. Backed up by a professional group, caught up in the thrall of it, her brother turned into a performer as smooth as the man beside him. And when he began to sing, his voice blended perfectly with Jordan’s—two perfect, sexy (Shelby had to admit), audience pleasers.

When they finished, Jordan was grinning broadly. “Now let’s give the boy a chance to show what he can do on his own. It’s all yours, Travis.”

He stepped back and Travis, looking relaxed and comfortable after the first song, came into full performer mode.

“I’m going to sing a song that’s my sister’s favorite,” he said. “She named her horse after the girl in the title.”

Tears stung Shelby’s eyes as he launched into the song, the words and music coming straight from his heart. When he’d finished, Shelby stopped her hands in midair. She couldn’t applaud. Her presence in the church was a secret from Travis.

“Okay, boy, that was nice, but now I want you to rock the house.” The man in the Stetson spoke. His voice was gruff and tough.

Not an easy audience to please. If Travis can convince him, then maybe…
Shelby held her breath.

“Sure.” With the confidence gained from the previous songs, Travis swung back to the other man. “Let’s go, Jordan. One, two, three…”

Obviously prepared for the request, the group broke into a rollicking tune bound to get an audience clapping their hands and tapping their feet. Travis sang lead, Jordan backup. Even at the distance she was from the stage, Shelby could see the pride in the older singer’s face as he let her brother take over.

As the last notes were echoing up into the rafters of the church, Ann Wise turned to the big man beside her.

“Well?” Shelby heard the agent’s question and held her breath.

“Come on.” The man stood and jerked his head toward the back of the church as the band began to dismantle equipment, Travis and Jordan assisting. “We’ll talk outside.”

As the pair stopped on the church steps, leaving the double doors open, Shelby eased down the stairs to a vantage point where she could both see them and overhear their conversation. “Well?” Ann Wise repeated, turning to the big man.

“He’s good, damn good, Annie.” Shelby saw her companion heft his shoulders and roll them.
Tired, weary. Don’t let that influence what he thinks of Travis, please.
“Just didn’t want to say it inside, in case he’d overhear, get a swelled head, and start demanding too much in a contract. He fits hand-in-glove with that group. You sign him, or I will. That shy grin is pure gold…will have all the little gals screamin’ for more. Now I got to be goin’. Have to find some talent
I
can sign.”

“Thanks, Bordon.” Ann Wise held out a hand. “I owe you one.”

“Damn right you do, missy. Next time I need backup on a talent decision, I expect you to be johnny-on-the-spot.”

Shelby flattened herself against the wall as the pair separated. Ann Wise came back into the church, while the man she’d called Bordon headed toward a sports car parked at the curb. She knew what she had to do.

****

“Well?” Jordan, in baggy shorts and T-shirt, bare feet in scuffed running shoes, slid into the booth on the bench opposite Shelby in the fast-food facility on Moncton’s Mountain Road. His eyes asked the question more than the word.

“What can I say?” She looked up from the cup of coffee she’d been nursing while she waited for him. “He was great.”

“So you’re willing to give him a chance with my band when I go back with them?” She saw the hopeful expectation in his expression. He sincerely wanted to give Travis an opportunity, the possibility to fulfill his dream. “I’ll take really good care of him…just like Joe and I do the other boys. No drinking, no drugs, just hard work and,” he hesitated, then continued, “good money.”

“Okay.” Her mouth felt dry, her throat tight, but she managed to get out the word. “Okay. Give him a chance.”

“Terrific.” He reached out to take her hand, but she pulled it back and slid out of the booth to get to her feet.

“You’ve talked me into giving up one big part of my life today.” She looked down at him, hoping the tears starting behind her eyes weren’t visible. “Leave the rest intact.”

Feeling rather like a wooden doll, she walked stiffly out of the restaurant and climbed into her pickup. As she started the engine and turned out of the parking lot, tears did come coursing down her cheeks.
Get a grip. It’s a long drive from Moncton to the farm. Can’t drive safely if I’m this emotional. I have to toughen up. Come the end of August, I’ll be losing not only my brother but the man I love.

****

Aching with weariness, she stopped the truck at the barn and got out. It was nearing midnight. It had been a long drive from Moncton, but she’d wanted to get home. Andy Crowell strolled out to meet her, his affable grin in place.

“How’s everything in Moncton?” he asked. “Get all that shopping done? Travis and your hand haven’t come back yet. Where did you say they were going? To look at a horse somewhere?”

“A tryout, I said they were going for a tryout.” She brushed a stray curl back from her forehead and continued to stretch the half-truth she’d told him to explain their absences.

“Yeah, well, I hope they didn’t buy anything.” He drew a hand across his forehead. “You have all the stock you can handle right now.”

“You’re right. It was just something Travis wanted to do.”

“And he had to take your hand along with him?” She sensed the disbelief in his tone.

“Jake’s truck. He doesn’t like to lend it.”

“That piece of junk! God, Shelby, I’m surprised it got you to that accident the other day.”

“Nevertheless, his truck, his decision. Thanks for holding the fort once again, Andy. Now, if you say all is well in the barn, I’ll head up to the house for a snack. It’s been a long day.”

“Wait.” He caught her by the arm. “Shelby, I’m going to ask again. Marry me.”

“Andy, I…”

“Hear me out. I know how much you love this place, how you’d hate to leave it even to move next door to my farm. So marry me and I’ll move into your house…at least for a while. It’s only a few minutes’ drive to my place. I can commute. What say, Shelby? I love you, girl.”

She hesitated, looked into his brown eyes, brown eyes that had been asking the same question for years. She thought about being alone on the farm after Jordan and Travis left. She pictured the emptiness of her life.

“Okay, Andy. Yes, I will marry you.”

“Hell, you mean it, Shel? After all this time, finally a yes!” He caught her into his arms to kiss her so hard it hurt. When he released her and held her out at arm’s length, his face was bright.

“You’ve made me one happy man, Doctor. When? The sooner the better, as far as I’m concerned.”

“Give me a little breathing space, Andy.” A shrinking feeling enveloped her. That kiss had meant nothing, nothing at all…not after being kissed by Jordan Brooks. But, then, she’d never be kissed by him again, so why make comparisons? She was going to marry Andy Crowell, her friend and neighbor, and live contentedly ever after.

“Just don’t tell anyone…not yet.” She touched his cheek. “I want to pick the time and place, okay?”

“Sure, sure, whatever you say. Maybe we can have a party, a big barbecue, invite all the neighbors, and make the announcement at the end of the summer… The first of October, how does that sound?”