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Authors: Vicki Lewis Thompson

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BOOK: Crazy For the Cowboy
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Mac caught him doing it. “Don't, buddy. Seriously, there's no good reason to and a ton of reasons not to.”

“I know. I just have this urge to get close to him, and I probably can't unless I rope him.”

Travis glanced at Mac. “Vince identifies with the Ghost.”

“Great. Wonderful. But you should have brought a camera instead of a rope.”

“Cameras are for bird-watchers.”

Mac sighed. “I see that gleam in your eye. I swear you're going to get us in trouble yet.”

“With Georgie, you mean,” Travis added.

“Yep. That lady's fierce. I really don't want any of us to tangle with her.”

“I won't rope the Ghost,” Vince said. “I promise.”

“Okay, then.” Mac picked up his Stetson by the crown and settled it more firmly on his head. “Your word is good enough for me. I hope the Ghost cooperates and you get up close and personal.”

As Vince took the lead again, he hoped so, too. He doubted he'd be back this way again, and he wanted a memory of that stallion to carry around with him in his travels. He gave one last thought to Georgie somewhere behind them waiting to see what they'd do, or more accurately, what he'd do.

He wasn't sure, exactly, except that he wouldn't uncoil his rope. Cinder's ears pricked forward as the mesquite trees gave way gradually to a meadow about half the size of a football field. The herd was there. They'd obviously been grazing, but now their heads were up and their ears pointed in Vince's direction.

Heart thudding, Vince searched for the stallion among the horses. He counted eleven, a mixture of bays, buckskins, and one dappled gray yearling. But the stallion wasn't with them.

He nudged Cinder into the meadow. The horses watched him and the lead mare began to circle, tightening the parameters of the herd. Vince glanced to his left as Travis and Mac reached the edge of the meadow.

Where was the Ghost? Vince surveyed the area and finally thought to look behind him. There he was, standing on a slight rise overlooking the meadow. His nostrils flared as he looked in Vince's direction.

A shiver of excitement ran down Vince's spine. As if playing a giant game of chess, he guided Cinder forward, putting his horse between the Ghost and his herd. The stallion tossed his head and looked from Vince to the eleven horses in the meadow.

Vince kept moving slowly into position. The Ghost would be compelled to rejoin his herd, especially in the face of this intrusion. When he did, he'd have to pass in front of Vince. And Vince would get his wish for a close encounter with the horse that had become his personal totem.

The Ghost pawed the ground as if debating his options. Then with a loud snort, he bolted for the herd, trumpeting orders as he ran. The wild horses responded, hooves pounding as they headed for the creek and leaped to the other side.

Cinder shied, obviously not liking the idea of standing his ground as the stallion charged toward them. But Vince kept a firm hold on the reins and stayed in the saddle as he watched, mesmerized by the strength and power of a horse who played by his own rules.

The Ghost swerved to avoid the horse and rider in his path, while Cinder pranced and snorted in protest. Vince got exactly the view he'd been hoping for. He held his breath as his gaze locked with the Ghost's. For a split second he felt a thrilling connection with the stallion's wild energy.

But a sharp
crack
followed by a loud
whoop
turned out to be the final straw for Cinder. He bucked, and bucked hard. Vince used every bit of riding skill he possessed and managed to hold on. The crack sounded again, and there came Georgie, whooping and hollering as she wielded a stock whip with the confidence of Zorro.

The ground shook as the Ghost thundered past him and followed his herd, leaping the creek with ease. Then he raced away, going deeper into the canyon. Once they were gone and Georgie stopped cracking her whip, Cinder settled down and stopped bucking.

Breathing hard, Vince stared at her. “What in hell was
that
?”

She sucked in air as she coiled her whip and looped it over the saddle horn. Her hat hung by its string and her hair had been whipped into a tangle by the wind. Her expression was pure defiance. “You were too close. I had to make sure you didn't . . .” Her attention moved to the rope still tied neatly to his saddle. “I couldn't take any chances.”

Travis rode up. “Listen, Georgie, Vince wasn't—”

“Being responsible,” Vince said. She'd charged to the rescue because he'd given her every indication he would rope the stallion, and he didn't want to minimize what she'd done to protect that horse.

“That's for damn sure.” Georgie glared at him. “And now Prince and I are going home.” Back straight, she left the meadow and started back down the trail.

Travis scratched the back of his head. “Why didn't you tell her that you never were going to rope that horse?”

“Because I led her to believe I was. Essentially it's my fault that she felt she had to act. I can't let her think it was for nothing.” What a jerk he'd been, too.

“I don't get it.”

“That's okay, Travis.” Vince gave him a weary smile. “There's nothing to get. I'm an idiot.”

Mac approached on Jasper. “Don't try and figure that boy out, Travis. He got himself fixated on Georgie years ago and he's not over it yet.”

“It's not a one-way proposition.” Vince felt obliged to explain that he wasn't pining after someone who didn't give a shit. “She's interested, or she was last night. Probably not anymore.”

Mac shoved his hat back with his thumb. “You could always try eating crow. That sometimes works.”

“I'm not sure it would with Georgie.”

“You should try it, though,” Travis said. “Grovel for a while, and then see if she'll let you kiss her.”

“I doubt that will ever happen, either.”

“You never know.” Travis grinned. “If she kisses you back, you're golden. If she bites your tongue, then you have to accept that she doesn't want you, after all.”

Mac laughed. “Spoken like a man who's been bitten a few times.”

“Only once, and I seriously miscalculated that time. She was flirting with me to make some other guy jealous, only I didn't understand that until I put my tongue in her mouth. I was a lot younger then. I'd have sense enough to know better now.”

“So what's our takeaway?” Mac leaned back in his saddle.

Vince shrugged. “Damned if I know.”

“Pay attention, Vince,” Travis said. “First, apologize; then try a kiss and see what happens. But wait a few seconds to see how she reacts to the mouth-to-mouth before you go for the tongue action. A damaged tongue plays hell with your enjoyment of beer.”

“I'll take all that under consideration.”

“You'll have to work fast, though,” Travis continued. “We're checking out today.”

Vince had been thinking about that. “I might not. Unlike you two, I'm between jobs. I have a little put aside, so I could afford to stay on. Then it wouldn't look so much like I'm running away after this little incident.”

Mac nodded. “And if you let her cool down, you might be able to get in a kiss, after all.”

“I don't know about that, but I might be able to get in that apology.” Vince thought that of the two, the apology was more important. He might have no chance with Georgie, but he hated thinking that her last image of him would be their confrontation in the meadow, one that he'd created by his boneheaded stubborn pride. He would tell her that if she'd give him the chance.

CHAPTER 9

G
eorgie treated Prince to a thorough brushing and an apple after she brought him back to his paddock, and all the while she tried to decipher what had been going on with Vince and that stallion. She'd been right on the heels of those three cowboys and had ridden out behind them into the meadow. One look at Vince as he'd placed himself between the Ghost and the herd had launched her into action.

She'd been convinced he'd set himself up to rope the stallion, but after all was said and done, his rope was still tied to his saddle. If he'd intended to throw a loop, he would have had it ready as he approached. She hadn't taken time to notice whether he had the rope in his hand or not.

If he hadn't planned to rope the horse, what had he been doing out there? She would never know, because she wouldn't be seeing him again. She had a list of maintenance issues to tackle that would keep her busy all day and maybe prevent her from dwelling on Vince Durant.

Both Evelyn and Anastasia were still asleep when she went back into the house. Evelyn typically slept in, and Anastasia had probably stayed up late sketching. Georgie ate a quick breakfast and started in on her chores.

She was oiling the hinges on the front door when Anastasia, still wearing her nightgown, came looking for her.

“Travis just called. He wondered if we'd like to come and have lunch with them at Sadie's before they leave.”

Georgie looked at her. “Are you sure he meant both of us?”

“That's what he said.”

“Did he happen to mention anything about what happened this morning?”

“No.” Anastasia's eyes widened. “The Ghost! Did they go out there?”

“They did. And so did I.”

“Oh, my God. What happened?”

Georgie gave her an abbreviated version. “Now I don't know if Vince meant to rope him or not. Either way, he's on my shit list.”

“On mine, too!” Her shoulders drooped. “I guess my story didn't work, then.”

“That's okay. I had a feeling he'd ride out there no matter what, and he took his rope. I saw him carrying it down to the stable. Cowboys don't usually take a rope unless they're going to use it.”

“And you really went after him with your whip?”

“Not close enough to touch either him or Cinder. I was going for the loud noise and the intimidation factor.”

“Wow.” Anastasia put a hand to her chest. “I've seen you crack that whip. You're very intimidating.” She gazed at Georgie a moment longer. “I'll call Travis back and tell him we can't make it.”

“Hey, you should go. You might get more inspiration.” She smiled. “I heard you humming last night.”

“Did I keep you awake?”

“No.” Thoughts of Vince were to blame for that. What an infuriating man, but at least he'd be gone soon. “And even if it did, I wouldn't care. I love that you're excited about drawing again.”

“Me, too.”

“Seriously, go to lunch with them. It'd be fun for you.”

“But they defied you about those horses. That's not nice.”

“It's mostly Vince's doing. I think Mac and Travis would have abandoned the idea in a heartbeat. If you want to be mad at someone, you can be mad at him, but I'm sure Mac and Travis would love to see you one more time.”

“I'd love to see them, too. Okay, I'll go, but I'll give Vince the hairy eyeball.”

Georgie laughed, which felt good after the tension of the morning. “You do that. Wish I could be a mouse in the corner. I'll bet you do a great hairy eyeball.”

“I do. Check this out.” She lowered her head, and when she raised it again, her gaze was filled with loathing.

“Yikes! Remind me never to tick you off! I feel like somebody just walked over my grave.”

Anastasia smiled. “After that guy dumped me at art school, I practiced my hairy eyeball in the mirror for days and finally got the perfect opportunity to use it on him at the coffee shop where we used to hang out. He started shaking, and then he got up and left. Left his double-shot latte, too, so I drank it.”

“Way to go! Now that I know you're armed and ready, you have my blessing to go down to Sadie's and do your worst. Vince deserves whatever he gets. I can't wait to hear about it.”

“I'll give you a full report.”

Georgie hesitated. Anastasia was twenty-three and could certainly take care of herself as she'd just demonstrated. Still, Georgie worried about a potential letdown after the guys took off. They might throw out some meaningless comment about coming back soon.

“Spit it out, sis.” Anastasia crossed her arms. “Something's on your mind.”

“I just want to say that . . . these three guys might never come back.”

“I know. That's okay.”

“You really seemed to like Mac.”

“I did. I do. But he and Travis work on a ranch outside Midland. They can't exactly pop up here anytime they feel like it. Don't worry. It's not like I'm in love or anything. It was fun to flirt a little.”

“But you and I need to get out more. Maybe we should drive into Amarillo once in a while, see if there are any good places to dance.”

“You're right. We should. I mean, there's Charmaine partying hearty in Dallas, while we sit here sucking our thumbs.”

“Exactly!”

Anastasia studied her. “Are you sure you don't want to come to lunch? You have an hour to practice your hairy eyeball. Trust me, it's extremely gratifying to watch them quaking in their boots.”

“I admit it's tempting, but I think you'll have a better time if I don't go. And I have a long list of things I promised myself I'd get done today.”

“Then I'm going to hit the shower. You're welcome to change your mind anytime between now and the time I leave.”

“Thanks.”

But she didn't change her mind, not even when An- astasia called her into her room to look at the sketches she'd made last night. Instead of individual portraits, she'd created scenes of the cowboys joking with each other. She'd captured their personalities so well—Vince's charm, Mac's irreverence, and Travis's sweetness.

Georgie exclaimed over all of the sketches. “Please don't say you're giving these away, too.”

“No. I thought I'd take them so they could see, but I'm keeping them.”

“Good.”

“Sure you don't want to come with me?”

“Thanks, but no, thanks.” She gave her sister a hug and sent her on her way. She could spend time with the other two, but she wasn't up to seeing Vince again. He aroused too many conflicting emotions in her. Once he left town, she'd be able to breathe easy and her heart would settle into its normal steady beat. She was looking forward to that.

Three hours later she was on her hands and knees securing a loose baseboard in Charmaine's old bedroom when Anastasia came dashing up the stairs calling her name.

“What?” She put down her tools and hurried into the hall. “What's wrong?”

Anastasia clutched her messenger bag in both hands as she gulped for air. “Travis and Mac just left.”

“Are you upset? I thought you were okay about—”

“I'm fine with it. No worries about them.” She stared at Georgie. “But . . . you're not going to like this.”

Georgie had a premonition of impending doom. “What am I not going to like?”

“Vince . . . Vince has decided to stay on a few more days.”

Georgie's heart, the one she'd hoped would resume its normal steadiness today, started to pound. “Why in hell would he do that?”

“I think it's mostly because he wants to talk to you.”

“But I don't want to talk to him!”

“I told him I was pretty sure you didn't, but he's booked himself into the hotel for a few more nights, anyway.”

“Didn't you give him the hairy eyeball?”

“I did! Right after I found out he was staying, and he must be tougher than my ex-boyfriend, because he didn't shake or anything. He did sort of swallow, so I think it bothered him a little, but he's still staying. He wants to apologize.”

“I don't want his damned apology. I want him gone.”

“Then I can only think of one thing to do, Georgie.”

“Will it get me tossed in jail?”

“No.”

“Then whatever it is, I'll do it. I'll try anything.”

“I figured out the hairy eyeball doesn't work as well when you're delivering it by proxy, which is what I tried today. You need to deliver it in person.” She gazed at Georgie. “I advise you to drop everything and start practicing.”

*   *   *

Vince sat in Sadie's at one of the tables drinking ginger ale. He didn't know if Georgie would respond to the request he'd sent via her sister. But if a miracle happened and she came down sometime this afternoon or tonight, he couldn't be toasted when she arrived.

Because he hadn't anticipated this situation, he had nothing to do while he waited. Ike had taken pity on him and had found him some old newspapers to read. The news wasn't current anymore, but he enjoyed the other stuff, the advice columns and such.

He could use one of those advice columnists with him right now. He'd ask them the best way to apologize for totally screwing up a situation without coming across as weak. Travis had mentioned groveling, but Vince didn't think that was a good idea. Any woman who knew how to use a stock whip wouldn't respect a man who groveled.

Finally, because he couldn't sit still another second, he picked up his empty glass and walked over to the bar to talk with Ike. The bartender had spent a lot of his time this afternoon in the kitchen because apparently there was a problem with the deep fat fryer, and the poker players were big on having fries with their beer.

“Is it fixed, yet?”

“I think so, at least for now,” Ike said. “Somebody needs to drive up to Amarillo tomorrow and buy a new one, though. This baby's on its last legs.” He glanced at Vince's empty glass. “More ginger ale?”

“To tell you the truth, I can't stomach another glass. I'm done with sugary fizz. I'd switch to beer, but sure as the world Georgie will come waltzing in the door the minute I do.”

“Then have a beer if that's what it'll take. One beer won't hurt anything.”

“I know, but it's the principle of the thing. I don't want to be knocking back booze when she comes in. It sends the wrong message.”

Ike leaned on the bar. “What sort of message do you want to send?”

“That's the thing I've been sitting over there trying to decide. Have you ever been in deep shit with Raina?”

“Too many times to count, my friend.”

“Excellent. Well, I don't mean that it's excellent you've been in trouble with her, but maybe you can help me out. How do I get out of the doghouse and still keep my self-respect?”

“That's a million-dollar question.”

Vince smiled. “And all I have on me is a few twenties and a major credit card.”

“In that case, let me give you a cheap answer to your expensive question. Are you sincerely sorry for what happened out there?”

“More than I can say.”

“Then look right at her and tell her that. Put your heart into it. Make it simple and straightforward. Then wait to see how she reacts.”

“Sounds easy enough. What then?”

“That depends on what she does. If her expression softens up a little, great. You may be able to coax her into liking you again. If she dumps a pitcher of beer on your head, then she's still mad as hell.”

“Right there's the problem. You just said that I might coax her into liking me
again.
I don't think she liked me in the first place. At least Raina likes you sometimes. Georgie's never really liked me.”

“I'm not sure that's true.”

Someone in the kitchen called Ike's name and he pushed away from the bar. “I'd better go see what the problem is. Maybe the fryer isn't fixed, after all.”

“Before you go, what do you mean, you're not sure that's true?”

“I think Georgie likes you. In fact, I think she likes you a little too much for her own comfort.”

“Now, see, that's what I think!”

“Then keep that in your mind while you're dealing with her.” Ike walked back to the kitchen.

Yeah, right. That advice assumed he'd get to deal with her at all. She had complete control over that. He sighed and walked back to his table and the pile of old newspapers. Maybe he should break down and have a beer when Ike came back.

He'd pretty much made that decision when the street door to Sadie's opened and Georgie walked in. One look at her expression and he knew he was in for it. But at least she was here.

She'd worn a silky white blouse, snug jeans, and the same red boots she'd had on last night. If only she'd been smiling, he'd think that she'd dressed nice for him. But she wasn't smiling. Instead she looked as if she could cheerfully string him up by his balls.

He stood and tugged on the brim of his hat.

She walked straight over to his table and glared at him. “You have some nerve, Vince Durant.”

“I couldn't just leave.”

“That's too bad, because that's all I want you to do. Just leave.”

Vince was glad nobody else was around, including Ike. Dislike rolled off Georgie in waves. It was embarrassing how much she disliked him. He couldn't remember ever being disliked this strongly in his life. Except for that powerful glare she'd given him when she'd first walked in, she wouldn't even look him in the face.

He took a deep breath in hopes that it would calm him for what he wanted, what he needed, to say. “Would you please sit down?”

“I'd prefer to stand.”

“Okay.” He couldn't very well force her into a chair. “Then would you at least look at me?”

She lifted her gaze.

BOOK: Crazy For the Cowboy
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