Counterfeit Cowboy (7 page)

“Stolen? Who’d do something like that?”

“I have an idea, but so far the police haven’t been able to find any evidence to support my suspicions.”

“Major loss to your business?”

“Major.”

“Is that why you changed your mind about taking me on?” He straightened and looked at her with a penetrating gaze.

“Let’s say it played a part.”

“Humph.” He headed into the adjoining stall, then swung back. “Ever think of hiring a private detective to look for your horse?”

“No. Can you even imagine what those guys would charge? I don’t have that kind of money.”

“Just a thought.” Hefting his fork, he went into Fancy’s stall, whistling.

He heard a car gunning toward the barn.

“Damn! Not her!”

Shelby’s expletive made him pause in hefting a forkful of manure and look through the mesh-covered stall window. A gleaming red BMW skidded to a stop only a few feet from the barn door, just as Shelby emerged from it.

“Shelby Masters, you little witch!” A woman in skin-tight denim shorts and barely-there tank top leaped out of the driver’s seat, waist-length black hair swinging, and strode on stiletto sandals to confront Shelby, a newspaper clutched in one hand.

“Good morning, Michelle.”

Keeping her cool. One more thing to like about that lady. Wonder what Miss Sex-on-the-Hoof is so cheesed off about?

“Don’t ‘good morning’ me, you troublemaker!” The new arrival stopped inches in front of Shelby, her perfectly made-up face contorted with rage, and waved the tabloid in front of the veterinarian. “It was bad enough that the RCMP questioned me about your stupid horse, but at least they did it discreetly. Now just look at this! ‘Soap star accused of horse rustling,’ ” she read aloud. “And there’s photos and a lovely story inside, supplied by that little toad of a stable hand Danny Morgan. You’ll recall he overheard our conversation in the stables in Halifax the day your horse supposedly disappeared and you accused me of the theft. You also must remember how he managed to snap a few
lovely
pictures. And you said he wasn’t bright enough to think of selling his dirt!” Her face livid, Michelle Latton looked ready to attack physically as well as verbally. “Do you know what this does to my career?” She shoved the paper into Shelby’s hands.

“Gives it a much-needed kick in the rear?” Shelby shoved the paper back at her. “Now you’ve joined the ranks of Butch Cassidy, Jesse James, and so on. A really notorious woman, not unlike the one I understand you play on the
small
screen. Even though you’ve been trying to light up the big screen for years.”

“Look, you little backwoods hog doctor…”

“Everything okay here, ladies?” Jordan decided it was time to intervene and emerged from the barn, pitchfork in hand, affable grin plastered across his face. “Anything I can to do help?”

Michelle paused and stared.

“Well, hello, there.” Her outraged expression somersaulted into a smile. “You’re new around here, aren’t you?”

“Doctor Masters’ stable hand, Jake Banks.” He held out a grimy hand.

“Hello, Jake Banks.” Michelle looked down at it, hesitated, then took it in a quick clasp. “Michelle Latton.” She withdrew it just as swiftly.

Bet she’s fighting the urge to wipe it on the seat of those next-to-nothing shorts.

“Hey, aren’t you on TV? I mean, I don’t get much time to watch, but I’ve seen your face somewhere. Maybe on a magazine cover or something?”

Now who’s acting! Hope I’m coming across as a starry-eyed rube.

“You may have. I’m the star of
The Wild and the Beautiful
.”

“No kiddin’? My mom’s a big fan. Can I have an autograph? She’d be thrilled crazy.” He looked around. “Darn, I don’t have any paper...or a pen.”

“No problem.” She smoothed a spot on the newspaper and pulled a pen from Shelby’s shirt pocket. “What’s your mom’s name?”

“Ellen.”

“ ‘To my dearest fan, Ellen. Love, Michelle.’ Is that okay?” She handed the paper to Jordan, perfectly whitened teeth showing in a wide smile.

“Great! Mom will treasure this!” He beamed down at the scrawl. “Thanks, Miss Latton.”

“Not a problem, sweetie. So, Shelby, have you finally found yourself a man, or is Jake a free agent?” She swung on her neighbor, smile intact but eyes narrowing.

“Definitely a free agent.”

“A bit of a rough diamond.” Michelle circled him, her gaze raking him from head to toe. “But talent is definitely limited around here.” She paused in front of him to run a red-nailed finger down his left jaw. “Maybe, just maybe.” Eyes narrowing suggestively she looked up at him.

“Sorry, ma’am? Maybe what?” He made what he hoped looked like a puzzled frown crease his forehead.

“I like that…pure, earthy, innocent country.” She patted his cheek, then turned and headed back to her convertible. “See you around, nature boy,” she called as she slid into the seat. “As for you, Doctor,” she tossed Shelby’s pen in her direction. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe that stupid article will make some decent publicity. After all, I am billed as the bad girl on the show. What could be wilder than a horse rustler? Might even be able to use some sort of angle about my trying to rescue an animal from an abusive home. How would that be for turning the tables on you,
Doctor
?”

She started the engine, revved it three times, then shot out of the drive in a cloud of dust.

“Well!” Jordan bent to retrieve Shelby’s pen. “Quite a handful. I’ll have to keep a tight grip on my jeans around that one.”

He handed the ballpoint to her, winked, and headed back into the barn.

“Don’t flatter yourself, chum!” Shelby called after him. “You’d only be another body in the queue. She’s been trying to make it to the big screen for years and I’ve no doubt she’s been doing all she can to get there, including bedding anyone who could help her to her goal.”

****

“Hey, Shel!” Travis yelled from the yard. “Jake and I are heading into town to pick up that feed order. You need anything?”

“You could have gone to the door to ask.” Jordan shook his head as he climbed into the driver’s seat of the old pickup.

“Ah, don’t go getting all big brother on me, Jor…Jake.” Travis trotted around the truck to the passenger side. “Shel is used to me.”

“Milk and eggs.” She came out onto the veranda in her white lab coat. “What about lunch? It’s nearly noon.”

“We’ll grab something in town.” Travis climbed into the passenger seat.

“You’re taking Jor…Jake’s truck?”

“Sure. Jake has a nearly full tank of gas. Let’s go, Jake.”

“See you later, boss.” Jordan looked up at her standing on the top step, touched the peak of his ball cap’s visor, winked, and shifted into first gear.

“Don’t forget, you have your first lesson at two o’clock,” she reminded him.

“Looking forward to it, ma’am.” He quirked a grin before he accelerated down the drive.

“You okay with the place?” Travis slanted him an apprehensive glance as they turned out onto the road.

“Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?” Surprised at the younger man’s question, he returned the look.

“Well, it’s just that it isn’t exactly the kind of place you’re used to. Shel should have invited you to stay in the guest room at the house. That old cabin isn’t very elegant.”

“And how would that look, a hired hand living in the house when there’s a perfectly good bunkhouse just across the yard?”

“Okay, guess you’re right. But still…”

“Look, Travis, I didn’t grow up staying in mansions or five-star hotels. And if your sister hadn’t made ‘no back stories’ a condition of our agreement, I’d tell you about it. Just take my word for it. I feel right at home on your farm and the cabin suits me right down to the ground. Satisfied?”

“Satisfied.” Travis shot him a grin, then settled back comfortably on the worn seat.

I like this kid. He’s a lot like Kevin…in the good times.

****

“Hey, Jake, let’s stop for a burger and fries.” Travis indicated the fast food place to their left as they were about to leave town, the cargo space filled with bags of feed. On the seat between them were two boxes, one containing a new pair of riding boots, the other the sneakers he’d abandoned in favor of the work boots he’d also purchased and now wore. “I’m really hungry, and Shel won’t have time to fix us lunch by the time we get back. She’ll have afternoon patients coming in before your lesson. She’s on a tight schedule.”

Jordan hesitated. He shouldn’t, but he guessed Travis, like the boys in his band, had a passion for junk food. And it wasn’t like it was two a.m. Surely his gut could handle it at noon.

“Sure.” He turned the pickup into the restaurant. “But no drive-through. I want to eat at a table.”

A few minutes later, across that table, Jordan looked over at Travis devouring his supersized burger. The kid worked hard. He’d watched him that morning. No wonder he had a king-sized appetite.

“So you have a band?” he opened the conversation.

“Yeah, well, nothing like yours.” He paused and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Just a bunch of guys fooling around. But I’d like to do it seriously some day.”

“Play for me sometime.” Jordan picked up a fry, looked at it, and dropped it back into its container. “Maybe I can give you a few pointers.”

“Hey, would you, Jor…Jake? That would great!”

“No problem.”

“Wish I could go at it full time, but right now Shel needs me, and I’m not about to let her down. She doesn’t support my ideas about making a career in music. Afraid I’ll get disappointed…like she was.”

“Shelby was a musician?” He choked on the soft drink.

“No, no. She was a world class rider. Had hopes of making the Canadian National Equestrian Team when she was a teenager. Didn’t happen.”

“So now she’s holding you back from taking a run at fame.”

“From taking a run at disappointment and hurt, more like.” He focused his gaze on his meal. “Shel is a great sister.”

“I believe you. She’s one amazing lady.”

“Yeah, about that.” Travis abandoned his meal to look Jordan squarely in the eyes. “Shel is pretty and smart and has a whole lot going for her. I wouldn’t want her hurt or disappointed again…if you get my drift.”

“Sure, sure, big brother talk, right?” He grinned into the frown developing on his companion’s face. “Trust me, Travis. I respect your sister far too much to play fast and loose with her. Anyhow, I’m not that kind of guy.”

“Well, I’m just sayin’.” Travis muttered as he returned his attention to the remainder of his lunch.

“And I’m just tellin’ you, nothing to worry about, my man.”

Travis looked up at him and slowly his grin met Jordan’s. “Thanks, Jake. I was pretty sure you’d never do anything to hurt Shel, but I had to talk to you about it. That’s what brothers do.”

“Understood. Glad we got that out of the way. Now when she gives us both a few minutes off, we can jam, okay?”

“Great.” Travis crumpled up his hamburger wrapper and piled it onto the tray with the rest of the papers. “Better get going. Shel needs that feed this afternoon. That stop at the boot store slowed us down, but those running shoes you were wearing just don’t cut it for barn work. And you sure as heck couldn’t ride in them.”

“Yeah.” Jordan looked down at the pair of spanking new steel-toed boots on his feet. “I’ll feel a whole lot better in the event one of your horses accidentally steps on my foot. I’ll bet your sister will be surprised to discover I’ve bought riding boots, too.”

****

As he finished the last fry, Jordan knew he’d made a big mistake. His stomach roiled and ached. Trying to ignore it and hoping he’d make it back to the farm before the real trouble hit, he followed Travis across the parking lot to where the old truck was parked.

“How about driving, Travis?” He held out the key. “I’d like to catch a few winks.”

“Farm life getting to you already?” Travis took it and grinned. “Sure. Snooze away. It’ll be good to drive something different.”

They’d barely made it out onto the highway when the first wave of nausea hit.

“Pull over, Travis, pull over quick.” Jordan bolted upright in the seat, swallowing hard. “I’m going to be sick.”

Travis yanked the truck into the breakdown lane and, glancing a concerned look at his companion, braked to a stop.

Jordan stumbled out and vomited.

“You okay, Jake?” Travis started to get out, but Jordan waved him back.

“Yeah, yeah. Just had to barf.”
Damn, he was sounding like his kids.
“I’ll be fine in a minute.”

He wasn’t. During the next half hour Travis had to pull over three more times.
Some treat for the kid
. The thought crossed his mind as he retched five miles from the farm.

Then they were finally turning in at the gate, driving down to the barn, and Travis was leaping out, calling for his sister.

“Shelby, you’ve got to take a look at Jake! He’s real sick!”

“What happened?” he heard her ask as he eased himself out of the passenger seat and saw her coming toward him in long, confident strides.
Always so in charge, always so strong
.
Isn’t she ever vulnerable like the rest of us?
Admiration managed to happen somewhere in his exhausted mind.

“I don’t know.” Travis’s forehead furrowed with concern. “We stopped at a fast food place for a burger and fries. A few minutes later, he got sick…gut-wrenching sick.”

“Jake, what’s wrong?” Shelby stopped beside where he was leaning on the truck’s fender and put a hand on his arm.

“Hey, just what I need…a vet.” His attempt at a joke fell flat as he staggered away from her and retched again.

“Food poisoning?” he heard Travis ask his sister. “Maybe I should have taken him to the hospital, but we were halfway home when it hit.”

“Could be. If it is, we should be able to handle it, unless he gets dehydrated. Help me get him up to the house. We can’t leave him alone in the cabin.”

“Hey, I’m not an invalid.” He straightened and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
Man, how crude could you get.
But he had nothing else.

“Of course you’re not.” She put an arm around his waist and urged him back into the truck. “Travis, drive him up to the house. I’ll follow you.”