Counterfeit Cowboy (2 page)

“I’m Ann Wise, agent and business manager.” She extended a manicured hand and flashed a smile that lighted up the peaches-and-cream perfection of a heart-shaped face. “I’d like to talk to you.”

“I’m tired, Ms. Wise.” Shelby took the soft, evenly tanned hand in her chapped, sun-browned one. “Unless this is urgent…”

“It is urgent.” The delicate hand gripped hers with surprising strength. “Urgent from my point of view and possibly very lucrative from yours.” She withdrew her fingers, flashed a smile that Shelby guessed had melted many a male heart, and inclined her head in the direction of the bar. “Won’t you join me in a nightcap?”

Shelby hesitated. The word “lucrative” massaged her flagging interest. Although the past two days had left her with renewed confidence, she wasn’t sufficiently blasé to believe she was on a gravy train.

“All right, but just for a few minutes.”

“Of course.” She took Shelby by the arm and guided her into the shadowy room deserted except for a bored-looking bartender leaning on the far end of the counter. “What will you have? Drinks on me.”

“Milk.” Shelby sat down heavily at the nearest table. “Warm milk.”

“With a dash of brandy?”

“No, just plain milk.”

“Fine. One warm milk, bartender, and a very large white wine.”

She took a seat opposite Shelby. With a sigh she kicked off her shoes.

“Long day,” she breathed, then brightened. “But a good one that will get even better after we’ve come to an arrangement.”

“Arrangement?” Shelby frowned.

“I’m about to make you an offer you’d be a fool to refuse, Dr. Masters.”

“Really? I can’t imagine…”

“Listen and learn.” She leaned back in her chair and looked over at Shelby with narrowed eyes. “I watched you perform in the horse show today…you and your cute brother. You’re both good, very good. I grew up on a West Texas ranch. I know as much about horses and horsemanship as I do about managing show business personalities.”

“So?” Shelby’s impatience colored the word.

“So I have a student for you. A student who is willing to pay handsomely for a six-week crash course in western riding. He’ll board at your farm and require intensive lessons. You’ll take no other students and devote all your time and energy to making him into the best rider possible in a month and a half.”

Shelby stared at her. “This is the craziest proposition I’ve ever heard! Accept a student, someone who is to move in with us and dominate our summer…”

“For fifty thousand dollars, Doctor.”

“What did you say?” Shelby couldn’t believe her ears. She gaped across the table at her companion.

“I said I have a student who is willing to pay fifty thousand dollars for a summer’s riding lessons from you.”

“Who on earth would be willing to pay that kind of money for riding lessons at a small New Brunswick horse farm? Sorry, Miss Wise, your offer is too bizarre. I won’t be the victim of some weird joke.” She started to get up.

“Jordan Brooks.” Ann Wise leaned across the table, caught Shelby’s wrist, and hissed his name. “I’m his agent and business manager.”

“Jordan…” Shelby flopped back onto her chair as the bartender arrived with their drinks.

“Are you okay, miss?” The man’s forehead furrowed as he looked at Shelby and placed the glass of milk in front of her.

“She’s fine.” Ann Wise took her wine, threw a twenty-dollar bill onto his tray, and shooed him off. “She’s just had some exciting news.”

“O…kay.” The man glanced from one woman to the other, then turned away.

“Jordan Brooks?” Shelby breathed once he’d gone. “You’re telling me you want Jordan Brooks to live at our farm and take riding lessons?”

“Exactly.” Ann Wise took a sip of wine, watching Shelby through narrowed eyes, a sly smile tipping her lips. “Come on, Doctor. Fifty thousand dollars for six weeks’ work. And country music’s number-one heartthrob as your houseguest. Only a fool would turn down an offer like that.”

“But why?” Shelby was coming out of her state of shock, beginning to think logically. “Surely there are all kinds of riding schools in the USA. Why would you choose a small, out-of-the-way place like ours?”

“You said it yourself. Out of the way. No one would expect to find Jordan Brooks on a little horse farm in northern New Brunswick. I neglected to tell you the contract comes with a caveat. His presence at your farm is to be a secret. If you tell anyone or allow his identity to be discovered, the entire deal will be moot.”

“But why the secrecy? Why can’t he take riding lessons like everyone else?”

“Think about it. Jordan is the number-one country-western singer. He sings like a cowboy, dresses like a cowboy, looks like a cowboy. But he can’t ride a carousel. He’s currently starring in a movie that requires him to handle a horse like a rodeo champion. We can’t let his fans know he’s…”

“A counterfeit cowboy?” Shelby’s sarcastic reply filled the void.

“You could say that.” Ann Wise replaced her glass on the table. “Jordan will arrive at your farm next Monday. I trust you can have suitable accommodation ready?”

“Now just a minute, Ms. Wise. I haven’t agreed to accept your client. Furthermore, I don’t intend to.”

“You can’t refuse a commission this size!” Ann Wise’s business cool snapped. “I’ve checked your finances. You’re barely getting by.”

“I was.” Shelby relaxed back into her chair and let a slow grin slide over her face. “Until this weekend that was true. Over the past two days, our horses put in stellar performances and now we have more clients than we can handle.”

“Horse training can’t pay that well.”

“No, but stud fees do. Our stallion, Midnight Black, will be one busy boy, thanks to my brother’s handling of him this weekend.”

“I know all about how stud fees work at your farm.” Ann Wise leaned back and looked over at Shelby, swirling the wine in her glass. “No matter how many mares your stallion covers this summer, you won’t see a penny until next year when foals are actually born, and then only if they survive to stand on four hooves. I overheard some of your future clients discussing it today as a no-lose proposition. Apparently your uncle made his farm well-known for that deal. I assume, from what they said, that you plan to carry on this type of financial suicide.”

“I don’t see that the way I choose to conduct my business is any of yours.” Shelby faced her squarely, hoping the shaky feeling the woman’s words had brought on didn’t show. She knew all about the problems inherent to Ebony M’s contracts for stud fees and her uncle’s not-so-financially-prudent condition for what he saw as dealing fairly with mare owners. Until now she’d tried to enjoy the day and push it aside. “And I definitely don’t need six weeks of frustration trying to keep some pretty-boy singer incognito while I attempt to teach him how to stay on a horse. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m exhausted. I thank you for the offer, but you made it two days too late. Good night, Ms. Wise.”

Suffused with the feeling that she’d just sidestepped one very large pile of manure, Shelby strode out of the bar.

In her room, she stripped off her clothes, showered, pulled on her flannel pajamas, and tumbled into bed. Exhausted, she didn’t waste effort mulling over Ann Wise’s offer and barely noticed the oncoming thunderstorm.

I hope Fancy doesn’t freak. She hates thunderstorms almost as much as her mother.

That was her last conscious thought before she dropped into a deep sleep.

****

“Shelby!” She came back to consciousness with her brother’s pounding on her door. “Shelby, wake up! Black’s gone!”

“What?” Stumbling, she scrambled out of bed. “What are you talking about?”

She yanked the chain from the door and pulled it open to face her wide-eyed brother.

“Black’s gone! I went down to the barn to feed the horses, and he was gone. The security guard claims he never heard a thing.”

“No wonder!” Shelby was grabbing up her clothes. “He was dead drunk. Wait for me in the lobby. I’ll be down in a minute.”

“Sure.” He started to turn away, then paused. “Shel, should I call the cops?”

“Not just yet. Wait until we have a look around. We don’t want to cry wolf.”

“Okay.” He turned and headed for the stairs.

Struggling into her underwear, Shelby silently cursed Michelle Latton. The woman never had taken no for an answer.

****

Ten minutes later, Shelby strode down to the lobby to find Travis pacing. He paused when he saw her, his expression grim.

“Damn, Shel!” he muttered. “Why did this have to happen—now when it finally looked as if it was all starting to come together?”

“Maybe it’s not as bad as it seems.” She took his arm and guided him toward the door. “I have an idea where Black went and with whom. Come on. I’ll drive.”

****

Minutes later she braked to a stop in the parking lot behind the stables. Striding toward the barns with Travis close behind her, she struggled to control her outrage. Behaving like an idiot wouldn’t advance her cause.

“Hey, Shel, our stalls are over this way.” Her brother waved a hand in the opposite direction when she swung to the right.

“We’re here to find Black, aren’t we?” She continued in the direction she’d chosen. “We’re not going to have any luck staring into his empty space.”

She entered a row of stalls and paused. Halfway down she spotted the Star Power banner that marked Michelle Latton’s section.

“Hey, Star Power!” She headed toward it, her strides long and determined. “I want to talk to you.”

“Well, if it isn’t Shelby Masters…Dr. Shelby Masters, I believe is the correct sobriquet these days, is it not?” Michelle Latton emerged from a stall, yawning and tossing long black hair over her shoulder. In her right hand she carried a riding quirt. She smiled coyly, insolently. “If you’re looking for my agent, he’s not up yet. He had a…” She paused and winked at Travis. “Strenuous night.”

Beside her, Travis shuffled his boots. Shelby silently cursed the woman. Michelle loved to catch people off guard and embarrass them.

“Was that how you paid him for stealing our stallion?” Shelby snapped out the accusation.

“Paid him?” Curvaceous hips encased in designer jeans, leather jacket thrown casually over sheer white blouse, Michelle struck a pose and batted long eyelashes innocently. She looked every inch the sexy soap opera diva. “Sweetie, if he’d gotten that little gift for me, I wouldn’t be up either. And,” her tone sharpened, “How dare you accuse me of stealing your horse! I’m tempted to sue you for slander!”

“Where’s Midnight Black?” Shelby narrowed her eyes. “I’ll give you five minutes to produce him. Then I’m calling the RCMP.”

“My darling little doctor, I might look like pure magic, but I’m no conjurer. I can’t produce a stallion out of thin air.”

“Then you won’t mind if I take a look through your stalls and trailer?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I do. You’re trespassing in my area and I want you to get out…now.”

“Not before I have a look around. You don’t own these stables. I have as much right here as you do.”

Shelby made a move to step past her. As she did, Michelle took a swing at her with the riding quirt. Expecting resistance, Shelby dodged. A camera flashed, a rapid succession of flashes.

Both women whirled to see a teenage stable hand holding something small and rectangular.

“You give me that camera, you little rat!” Michelle lunged at him.

“No way.” He danced away from her backwards and snapped another picture. “This is pure gold!” He whirled and raced out of the building.

“There! Now, are you satisfied?” She rounded on Shelby. “That little toad will be peddling those pictures to the highest bidder within the hour! If you wanted to smear me, you couldn’t have done a better job.”

“I have absolutely no interest in ruining your alleged career.” Cold anger filled Shelby. “And I don’t believe Danny Morgan is clever enough to think of selling them. The best he’s probably capable of is putting them on Facebook, or, if he was taking video, on YouTube.”

“You’d better hope he does nothing!” Michelle was inches from Shelby’s face, her own contorted with so much outrage Shelby wondered how anyone watching her on television could possibly see her as the beautiful temptress she played. “I have lawyers, and I can…”

“Chill out, Michelle.” Travis stepped forward. “All we want to do is look around. If you’ve got nothing to hide, why not let us?”

She drew a deep breath, looked up at Travis, and then let a slow, dangerous smile curl her lips.

“Sure, sweetie, go right ahead.” The words were an ominous purr. “Do you know, I was about to suggest Tom listen to you and your little band on the slight chance he might be able to get you an audition with a recording company. Now you can forget it.”

A mocking smile tilting her lips, she tapped him lightly on the shoulder with her whip before striding out of the stable.

“She didn’t mean it.” The sudden pain in her brother’s expression cut Shelby to the bone. Bitch! Michelle Latton had an ugly gift for stabbing right into the heart. “She wasn’t about to get her agent to listen to you. She’s nasty through and through.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Travis turned away, defeat echoed in his words. “Let’s get on with looking for Black.”

****

Damn Michelle Latton…again!

Moving from stall to stall, Shelby cursed the woman. She’d hung a carrot of hope in front of Travis and then, in the space of a few seconds, snatched it away. Like a dozen years ago when she’d ruined Shelby’s dream of joining Canada’s national equestrian team.

Suffused with the anger the memory always evoked, Shelby checked the last stall of the Latton section. Michelle had four horses, none of which resembled Midnight Black, none of which could match her stallion.

“Shel?” Travis joined her. “Any luck?”

“None.” She shook her head. “I’m going to check the fire exit.” She headed for the marked door at the end of the barn. “Whoever took Black wouldn’t risk leading him past the guard, no matter how drunk he appeared to be. Horseshoes make too much clatter on cement.”

She gave the bar a shove. When it didn’t yield, she threw her strength behind it and pushed. It flew open, accompanied by a male-voiced expletive.