The Twins' Rodeo Rider

by Tina Leonard

  Cisco nodded. “You’ve made it. Let’s head back to the ranch before you do yourself a mischief.” Or Daisy’s gang did him a mischief. Cisco didn’t like any part of this setup.

  “Mischief is all right with me.”

  Cisco eyed the local group of bad news. “Carson, Dig, Clint, Red, Gabriel. What’s happening in your tiny-brained slice of the world?”

  The men grunted greetings in return.

  “We thought we’d hang out a little now that Daisy’s gone,” Sam explained.

  Cisco could think of very little news he’d like less than this. “You fellows looking for a new ringleader? Can’t operate on your own?”

  “We like Sam,” Carson said. “He doesn’t have his head up his butt.”

  “Well, that’s debatable.” Cisco decided to try to get some answers out of them. “Couldn’t you stop Daisy from escaping your clutches?”

  Dig shrugged. “We’re just branching out our friendships, Cisco. Connections are important. Relax.”

  “I could relax,” Cisco said dryly, “if you hadn’t tied Squint to a tree to keep him from winning not that long ago.”

  “That was your fault.” Clint glared at him. “Madame Matchmaker said you would pay us to slow your buddy down. So far we haven’t seen a bit of green.”

  Cisco counted to ten, wondering once again at the white-gloved perfidy of one of the sweetest women he’d ever had the pleasure of pitting wits against. “Why in the world would I have wanted Squint slowed down?”

  “So you could win Daisy.” Red Holmes looked at him in disgust. “But then you dishonored her by not marrying her. Dude, that is not the way things are done in this town. If you’re going to live here, you have to honor the creed.”

  “Yeah, Cisco, honor the creed,” Sam said, laughing. He pushed his hat back on his head to study Cisco, his brown eyes laughing, and Cisco wanted to grab his hat and make him eat it.

  “We ought to pound you for what you did to Daisy,” Gabriel Conyers said. “She’s a nice girl. What you did was wrong.”

  “Here’s the thing. I couldn’t like a woman who my buddy likes, could I? That’s not honorable, is it?”

  They appeared to take that in.

  “If Squint was meant to be with her, he would have won,” Carson pointed out. “At least one of the races, anyway. He came up short. No woman’s going to want a man who can’t make the grade.”

  “He came up short,” Cisco said patiently, “in one of the races because you fellows tied him to a tree.”

  “Again,” Dig said, just as patiently, “because we were commissioned to do so by Cosette.”

  There was no reason to further interrupt the guitar-playing, moon-howling miscreants. Cisco eyed his buddy with disgust. “You haven’t even been by to see the babies.”

  “No, but I do congratulate you on your pink-ribboned success.” Sam grinned at him. “All our buddies have had girls. Which ratchets up Bridesmaids Creek’s issue, I’d say. All ladies, no gents. The fairy tale lives on. Or horror story, from the ladies’ point of view.”

  “You know, you could find a woman and see if you could do any better,” Cisco said.

  “Not me.” Sam stretched his boots out, eyed the scuffed toes with satisfaction. “I’ve done my duty by my country. For the rest of my life, I’m only doing duty for myself.”

  Cisco shook his head. “Why are you down here again?”

  “To enjoy the peace and quiet.”

  “To chain ourselves to trees or rocks to keep Donovan from bulldozing this place,” Dig said. “We’re human shields.”

  “This isn’t going to work. We need a better plan,” Cisco said.

  “You got one?” Gabriel asked.

  “I’ve barely slept since my children were born,” Cisco admitted. “But surely between us, we should be able to think of a winning plan.”

  “So you want our help,” Carson said flatly.

  “Uh, sure. Yeah.” Team building sucks, especially with the lack of qualified teammates, but it’ll have to do.

  “If we’re going to help get you out of the mess you created,” Carson said, and Cisco had to bite his lip, “you’re going to have to take Bridesmaids Creek more seriously than you have.”

  “Yeah, man, not just take off with one of our best girls,” Dig said, glaring.

  “And break the heart of one of our other best girls,” Red said. “Not cool, man. Wasn’t cool at all.”

  Cisco wondered if he was ever going to get out of the alternative universe he appeared to have fallen into. “So do you have any suggestions?”

  “We do.” Sam nodded, setting his guitar down. “We think—the fellows and I—believe you’re going to have to speak to Monsieur Unmatchmaker.”

  “Phillipe?” Cisco wondered what had gotten into his best buddy, a man who’d fought beside him in Afghanistan, whom he knew as well as anyone. At this moment, he hardly recognized the Sam who was clearly plotting with the enemy. “What does Phillipe have to do with anything?”

  “Monsieur Unmatchmaker undoes what his wife does,” Dig explained. “Cosette’s good, but on occasion, she misfires big-time. She did with you.”

  “And Mackenzie,” Gabriel reminded them. “It could be possible that the Hawthorne sisters are resistant to Cosette’s brand of magical assistance.”

  Cisco stared at the group of six village idiots, of which Handsome Sam clearly had a brand-new membership card. “Or maybe all this BC nonsense is just nonsense. Cosette doesn’t have a degree in matchmaking, and Phillipe is just a husband who’s trying to figure out a way to take care of his wife. Ex-wife, now, I guess,” he said, feeling miserable for Phillipe.

  “You have to learn to appreciate the ways,” Red said darkly.

  The ways of BC. This is just not going well. “Is that why you five are single? Because you appreciate the ways of BC so well?”

  “Not cool.” Clint Shanahan finally spoke up, after listening to all the back and forth silently for ten minutes. “We’re single because we haven’t been ready to give up the life of BC bodyguards.”

  “Bodyguards?” Cisco glanced at Sam, who shrugged.

  “Protectors. We protect BC from bad stuff. Notice we have no crime here,” Dig said.

  “I thought you were the criminal element,” Cisco said, “not to be too obvious for you or anything.”

  They stared at him, dismayed.

  “Hey, your friend really is a pain,” Carson told Sam.

  “He can be at times,” Sam agreed.

  “So if I go see Phillipe, won’t he unmake my marriage? If one believes in conventional wisdom, isn’t that exactly the point of what he does?”

  He received five nods from Daisy’s gang. Maybe Sam’s gang now. Cisco shook his head. “I don’t know what’s in those bottles you fellows are drinking—”

  “This is homegrown,” Sam said, proud as a new mother, “made by Phillipe himself. But don’t tell anyone.”

  Cisco looked at the pile of bottles around the men, who’d clearly been having quite a picnic under the stars. “It doesn’t look like it’s much of a secret. And anyway, if you think I’m going to let anyone tinker with my marriage, you’re dead wrong.” It was the dumbest thing he’d ever heard of. “But I will run by and check on Phillipe, because I haven’t had a chance to see him since he and Cosette moved out of their shops.”

  They nodded their approval.

  “And you,” Cisco said to Sam, “you’re hanging out with a bad element.”

  “Hey!” Clint exclaimed. “Who’s to say you’re not the bad element? You’re the one who’s caused all the trouble in BC! Everything was fine until you came along!”

  Cisco looked at Sam for backup. His erstwhile buddy, whose back he’d had many a time in bad places, merely shrugged. “You know, SEALs stick toge
ther.”

  Sam nodded. “It’s true. Have a beer. Join us. You need to loosen up a bit.”

  Cisco shook his head and departed. Matters were getting so weird around BC he wasn’t certain they could ever be fixed. The good news was that his marriage was solid, in spite of the wacky ways of the small town.

  He’d make a quick check-in on Monsieur Unmatchmaker, cheer the poor guy up, then head back to the hospital to see his babies and kiss his darling wife. Then he had to get on a serious house-hunt for his family.

  His rodeo days seemed far away—which was probably a good thing. “I’m going to put my little girls in swimming lessons and rodeo lessons as soon as they can walk,” he vowed, banging on the front door of Phillipe’s tiny new abode. The little wood frame house was as far from Cosette’s as it could be, and lacked the charm of their old place. Cisco’s heart weighed heavy inside him—but there wasn’t much he could do to help. He was no expert on marriage, after all. Cosette and Phillipe were—but look what had happened.

  Best he stick to the script of Chief Comforter.

  Then he could tell Sam and his new gang to blow their whole it’s-your-fault-because-you-disrespected-the-BC-ways out of their collective hats.

  Phillipe opened the door. “Bonjour!” he exclaimed. “Please come in! This must be my day for visitors!”

  The fragrance of incense hit Cisco the second he walked into the small house. Colorful strands of beads hung in a doorway, separating the hallway from the den. Cisco followed Phillipe into the small room, where colorful cushions lay on the floor. Not a stick of furniture was to be seen.

  “So this is your new place,” Cisco said, wondering why it looked like a time capsule from the sixties had been deployed in the room. He half expected to see a hookah on the floor. Instead of a hookah, Robert Donovan took up one of the colorful soft cushions, his boots crossed in front of him in a relaxed yoga-type pose. Cisco winced.

  “Donovan,” he said by way of abbreviated greeting, “what the hell are you doing here?”

  Chapter Twelve

  “I might ask you the same,” Robert shot back. “Anyway, take a seat and relax. That’s what we do here.”

  Cisco didn’t know if he could relax with Robert on the premises. He glanced at Phillipe. “You do this often?”

  “All the time. It’s good for your mental state. I also give lessons.”

  “I had no idea you were a yogi.” Cisco took a cushion as far from Donovan as possible.

  “Working on my journey,” Phillipe said. “And I presume you wouldn’t be here if you weren’t in great need of working on yours.”

  “I don’t need to—” Cisco began, belatedly remembering he was here on a mission of—oh, hell, he didn’t know why he was here. Whatever the plan was had been shot all to hell. He gave Donovan the side eye and pulled off his boots. “Yeah, I’m here to work on my journey. And I’m hoping you can help.”

  “Breathe deeply,” Phillipe intoned, sitting down on the floor. They now formed a rather unfriendly triangle of sorts. Cisco wasn’t sure he could close his eyes and concentrate on relaxing when his enemy was across from him. “In with the good air, out with the bad.”

  Cisco wondered how fast he could duck out of the session of finding himself without hurting Phillipe’s feelings. After all, he’d come here to comfort him, hadn’t he?

  With his eyes closed and something like hippie music suddenly playing softly in the background, draining him of his desire to argue or pluck anybody’s harp strings, he belatedly remembered his mission was to see Phillipe in the capacity of Unmatchmaker.

  Whatever an unmatchmaker had to offer him, he couldn’t have said at this strangely starting-to-relax moment.

  “Breathe,” Phillipe said, and Cisco tried to.

  “Feel your cares just fall away,” Phillipe said, and Cisco’s eyes snapped open.

  “My cares can’t fall away, Phillipe,” he said, “because Donovan is sitting on the cushion across from me like a mushroom that’s been growing in the dark too long.”

  “Hey!” Robert glared at him. “No talking in the circle!”

  “The circle, my foot—” Cisco began, and Phillipe said, “Breathe, fellows. Discussions can wait until after we’re in touch with our inner guides—”

  “I’m in touch with mine,” Cisco said. “And my inner guide is telling me that someone needs to explain to Mr. Donovan that he just can’t go digging up half of Bridesmaids Creek to sell to whomever for a nuclear waste facility!” Cisco jumped to his feet. “And what the hell are you doing, Phillipe? You’re a lot of things but you are not a hippie, my friend. Did they even have hippies in France?”

  Phillipe appeared chagrined, his inner guide good and rattled. He turned off the music, flipped on a light floating in a small incandescent bowl and looked at Cisco. “Cisco, you have to calm down. The path forward is through forgiveness.”

  Robert hopped to his feet, too. “I’ll forgive him when he does the right thing by my daughter!”

  “The right thing?” Cisco was stunned. “What right thing?”

  “You were never honest with Daisy,” Robert pointed out. “You let her waste her chances on you, when you were already married!”

  “As uncomfortable as I am to admit that you’re right, you’re right, Donovan,” Cisco said. “Phillipe, how do I make things right? For Daisy? And for all of Bridesmaids Creek?”

  “My suggestion is that the two of you let bygones be bygones, first of all,” Phillipe said to Cisco and Robert, his tone a bit stern.

  “And you can go rescue my daughter from this friend of yours in Montana! This is all your fault,” Robert fumed.

  “Daisy’s a grown woman,” Cisco said. “I doubt I have to rescue her from anyone.”

  “Be that as it may, I want my daughter here, not in Montana. That’s my only daughter.” He considered that for a moment. “Ty’s not here, either, so I have no family of my own around,” Robert said, his voice trailing off. “And I’m sure that you can appreciate that Daisy is the apple of my eye.”

  “I’m very well aware that Daisy is a daddy’s girl.” Cisco took a deep breath. “Robert, I can’t change the fact that she’s gone off. She’s a grown woman, and not too different from her old man.”

  Robert glowered. “I’m sure there’s an insult in there.”

  “Perhaps there could have been one, but not this time.” Cisco sat back down on a soft cushion on the floor, feeling like diplomacy would win the day. “Squint’s gone after her, if it’s any consolation.”

  “The problem is, son, and what you don’t understand, is that private investigators aren’t that expensive to hire.” Donovan shifted onto a cushion, staring warily across at him.

  “What does that mean?” Cisco watched as Phillipe headed off to check his incense sticks and root around in the kitchenette off the small den.

  “It means I know who you are, and I know who John Squint Mathison is. And so does Daisy. She’s not going to be interested in your buddy Squint.”

  Cisco went very still. “What exactly do you mean?”

  Phillipe came back in with three shot glasses and a bottle of whiskey. “Just to take the edge off our visit.” He sat down, poured some shots. “At least it’s not paper cups, huh? Cosette wanted all the crystal and china kind of stuff, and it didn’t go with my more earthy décor, anyway.”

  Cisco hesitated before he eviscerated Donovan for being a no-good sneaky snake. “I’m sorry as hell, Phillipe. I should have told you how sorry I am about you and Cosette. Which can be laid squarely at your door, Donovan. If you hadn’t messed around with their finances, and pulled their shops from underneath them, they’d probably still be married. Why are you here for yoga lessons, anyway?”

  “Phillipe invited me.” Donovan shrugged. “He said Cosette had noted that I might have a little
blockage in my carotid, so I went and had that checked. Turned out she was right. Now I’m on some thinners and feel great.” He glanced at Phillipe. “I don’t know how she knew.”

  “Oh, Cosette knows things.” Phillipe raised his glass. “Here’s to happiness in BC.”

  “I’m not drinking to that,” Cisco said, “until Donovan tells me exactly what he thinks he knows about my life.” Even he and Suz had never talked about his family. He sure didn’t want Donovan digging around like a nosy badger. It was a sore spot, something he’d tried to get away from for a long time.

  But Daisy’s obsession with him would make more sense.

  “So it turns out that John Mathison is the son of gypsies, really. Small-time clowns and barrelmen, from his grandfather to his father. His mom did some cowboy preaching. They followed the rodeo from town to town in a beat-up trailer. Raised three children that way. Mathison went into the SEALs to make a better life for himself.”

  Cisco’s eyes narrowed. “And his country, as did we all.”

  “Not so much for your side of the story,” Donovan said. “You fared a little better. Your mother, Chloe, and your father, Fernando, had four children—Damien, Mateo, Jean-Michel and you. In fact, you’re the black sheep, aren’t you?”

  Cisco got to his feet, set his shot glass on a side table, untouched. “I’m going.”

  “I didn’t know you had all this family,” Phillipe said, looking up at him. “We’re a very family sort of town. Maybe you should bring your brothers here! We could introduce one of them to Daisy.” He snapped his fingers, inspired. “In fact, that may be the missing key! Cosette said there was some missing key that links you and Squint together, and that’s why Daisy’s been so confused. Cosette says there’s been a transfer of energy keeping her fixated on you, but the real man of her heart is someone else. One of your brothers is probably that someone, and Daisy’s picking up the wrong signals. She has crossed wires or something.” He looked triumphant. “I don’t know how Cosette knows these things, but she always does. She always said you weren’t the man for Daisy.”

  “I think everyone in the town knows that,” Robert growled. “And I’m certain as anything that a small-town gypsy isn’t the man for my daughter. She’ll never fall for Squint.”