by Becki Willis
Hannah returned the smile. “All I can say,” she told the other woman upon approach, “is ‘wow.’ This place is hopping today!”
“Crunch time,” Jazz agreed, following Hannah’s gaze around the busy grounds. “Time to work out lingering bugs and put the final polish on each performance. How are things up at the inn?”
“Quiet. I think we’re all set.” Not wanting to ignore the man who politely stood by during their exchange, Hannah turned to smile up at the tall farrier. “And how are things with you, Shelton? Are you getting the hang of your new gig?”
“I think so. It’s different, but I always enjoy a challenge.”
Hannah wondered if he might consider her one of those challenges. Something in his knowing smile said he did.
“He’s doing great,” Jazz said with genuine enthusiasm. “You were right; he has a real way with horses. I didn’t think anyone could take Rusty’s place, God rest his poor soul, but I stand corrected.”
“Hey, I’m just temporary help,” Shelton reminded her. “I like what I do, where I am, and who I work with.” His eyes slid over Hannah, openly flirting with her, as he drawled, “I ain’t going nowhere.”
Hannah looked embarrassed, and Jazz laughed.
“I’d offer to let the two of you be alone,” Jazz teased, “but there’s work to be done. Hannah, where’s that handsome lawyer of yours? I promised to show him my routine.”
I just bet you did. Green fangs of jealousy curled around Hannah’s heart. “Unfortunately, he had to go out of town on business. He’s not sure he’ll even make it back in time for tonight’s opening show.” For the first time, Hannah thought that might not be such a travesty, after all.
“Oh, no! That’s terrible!” Jazz said, looking crestfallen. Hannah had no doubt she meant it. Despite her involvement with Pierce, Jazz was clearly attracted to Walker.
And who wouldn’t be? Hannah reasoned. Like it or not, even she suffered from the affliction.
“That’s too bad,” Shelton agreed, but he made no effort to sound sincere. “He’s going to miss all the fun. But don’t worry. I’ll be here, Hannah, if you run into any trouble. Don’t hesitate to call me if you need anything.”
“I think you’ll be plenty busy, yourself,” Hannah said, covertly nodding toward Jazz. Did he need reminding that his new boss was standing right there, listening to him pledge his help?
“After the show, of course,” he said promptly, resuming a professional air. He straightened the beanpole that was his body and addressed his boss in a serious voice. “Which brings us back around to that problem I was telling you about. I’m really concerned about that mare.”
Jazz was thrown by the sudden shift in conversation. “Problem?” she blinked in confusion.
“You know, the mare. Tilly, I think is her name? She’s practically the star of the show, but I sure don’t like the way she’s limping this morning. I think you should come take a look at her.”
“Oh. Oh, right. Of course.”
“Hannah, will you hang around while I show Miss Jazz what I’m talking about?” Shelton asked, touching her arm. “I wanted to talk with you, but this really can’t wait. We may have ourselves an emergency.”
“That doesn’t sound good,” Hannah worried aloud. She motioned them away. “By all means, go take care of the horse.”
“You’ll wait?” Shelton reaffirmed.
Hannah nodded her agreement. “I’ll watch rehearsals.”
He winked as he sauntered off with the other woman. Despite his claims of urgency, his long stride looked relaxed and unhurried as he crossed the grass. Beside him, Jazz made three steps to his one.
Hannah wandered back to the western town. With the gunfight over, the actors had moved on to another skit, this one a comedy. She laughed at their jokes and imagined what the audience would think of it. If they enjoyed the show even half as much as she enjoyed rehearsal, the evening would be a wild success.
“Enjoying yourself?”
The deep voice startled her. Hannah snapped her head around to see Pierce, lounging against the bleachers where she sat.
“Yes, I am,” she smiled. “Everyone is so talented.”
They exchanged idle chitchat, discussing the show and the various jobs some of the performers covered. When the conversation lulled, Hannah said, “I was sorry to hear about your roommate. I know that must have been quite a shock.”
Pierce shrugged his shoulders. “It’s a shame, but I really didn’t know him that well.”
“But you shared a trailer, isn’t that right?”
“We were assigned to the same trailer,” he agreed. The same cocky smile she had witnessed earlier spread across his handsome face. “That doesn’t mean we have to sleep there.”
She wondered if he spent most of his nights in the flashy RV up front.
“It’s a small trailer, and with those two hotheads going at each other all the time, it was a bit crowded for my tastes. They claimed to be best friends, but with friends like that, neither needed enemies. I avoided staying in there any more than necessary. Besides,” he supplied, “I haven’t been with the crew as long as most. Less than two years.”
“Oh? What did you do before that?” Hannah asked.
“I worked a magic show in Vegas.”
“Magic?”
While the concept was intriguing, it brought flashbacks of her tenth birthday. From where he stood slightly below her, the man watched the emotions play across her face.
“That’s an interesting reaction. You look like you might cry,” Pierce pointed out. “And yet, you’re laughing.”
“Am I? I was just remembering my tenth birthday. I wanted a magic kit, so my uncle took me to Vegas to see a live show. Everything was great, until they called me on stage to be ‘sawed’ in half.” She laughed aloud at the memory.
“What kind of uncle takes his ten-year-old niece to Vegas for her birthday?” Intrigued with the story before she even answered, Pierce swung his lithe body onto the bleachers and took a seat, uninvited, next to Hannah.
Caught up in the memory, Hannah thought nothing of it. “JoeJoe is not your typical uncle. He’s definitely one of a kind.”
“JoeJoe? Sounds like a kid, himself.”
“A big, silly, impulsive, overgrown kid,” she emphatically agreed.
“If he took a kid to Vegas for her birthday, I’m guessing he’s either a gambler or very rich.”
“Guilty, on both accounts.”
Pierce studied her for a moment. “Wait. Your name is Duncan. You’re not talking about Joseph Duncan, are you? Oil mogul and poker player extraordinaire? ”
She looked at him in surprise. “You know my uncle?”
He continued to stare at her. “Your uncle is Joseph Duncan.” From the sound of his voice, he seemed to find it impossible.
“Yes. Although to me, he’ll always be JoeJoe. You know him?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I do. Or I did.” Still looking stunned, Pierce went on to explain, “Before I did magic, I worked the high roller tables in casinos. Your uncle was a regular. Man, I’ve never seen anyone play the game the way your uncle does! He’s legendary.”
“Yes, that would be JoeJoe.” In spite of the sarcasm, there was true affection in her voice. She adored her uncle.
By the time Pierce relayed a few funny stories involving her uncle, they laughed together like old friends. Her first perception of him and his cocky smile didn’t jive with the witty, personable man beside her.
“So, how do you go from high stakes poker to magic?” Hannah wanted to know.
“It’s the same thing, really,” he said with a shrug. “It’s all about making things disappear. Money, bunnies, one half of a birthday girl…”
“Ah, don’t remind me!” she said, giving his arm a good-natured slug.
“Easy, there,” he teased, rubbing the spot she had barely grazed. “That’s my shootin’ arm.”
“That’s the biggest leap of all. Poker, to magic, to a Wild West show.
What’s next? Opera?”
“If I ever attempted that, I’d make an entire audience disappear, I’m afraid. No, I think I’ll stick to the skit in the show.”
“You do a magic trick?” Hannah asked in surprise.
“Just small stuff,” he assured her. “Our most popular skit involves the audience. We get someone to come up from the crowd, and we do a little skit with them. There may or may not be magic involved.” As he said the word magic, he did a fancy motion with his hand.
“Hence, the trap doors Jazz mentioned yesterday,” Hannah murmured in understanding. She looked around, realizing how much time had elapsed. “Speaking of Jazz, I wonder what the holdup is. I’m supposed to be waiting on Shelton, but I need to get back to the inn.”
“Are you and Long an item?”
“No. I just recently met him. I liked the way he handled my horses, so I suggested him as a fill-in for your friend.” Hannah glanced at the clock on her phone and stood. “If you see him, would you tell him I had to get back?”
“You can tell him. He and Jazz are coming this way now.”
They were deep in conversation, concern evident in their faces. Jazz rubbed her forehead, a gesture she seemed to do when she was nervous. Like Walker’s neck rub, it was a definite tell. Early on, JoeJoe had taught Hannah the importance of interpreting the silent signs people gave off. He said it was a useful talent to have, not just in poker, but also in life in general.
Shelton was the first to look up and see them sitting together in the empty bleachers. The scowl on his face was obvious, even to the casual observer.
“You may not think you’re an item,” Pierce said out of the side of his mouth, “but Long certainly does. If his eyes were weapons, I’d be a dead man right about now.”
Jazz, on the other hand, looked more worried than jealous.
According to them, the news wasn’t good. The mare came up lame that morning, favoring her front right leg. Even after several treatments, she showed no signs of improvement.
“I don’t know what we’re going to do,” Jazz worried. “To train another horse on such short notice is impossible.”
She paced, drumming her fingers to her forehead. “You’ve done an excellent job so far, Shelton, but let’s give credit where credit is due. Rusty had every one of those horses trained to perform on cue. You’re able to step in and take his place because, even though the horses aren’t familiar with you, they’re familiar with the routine. There’s no way we could bring in a horse who doesn’t know you, doesn’t know the routine, and expect it to perform well.” She paused long enough to turn on her heel and reverse her steps. “As you know, a horse not only has to know the routine, but it must feel comfortable with its handler. You wouldn’t have time to establish a rapport with another animal. You would need to build trust, and confidence, and a sense of familiarity with the animal. No, we need another solution.”
They all threw out suggestions, all of which were soon rejected. Jazz talked about the routines in the show and the specific training required of the horses. Pierce finally gave Shelton a shrewd look and said, “Long, you have horses. According to all that bragging you’ve been doing, you have the finest barrel racer in the state of Texas. It may not know all the routines, but it knows how to run barrels, and it knows you. The way I see it, that’s half the battle.”
Jazz stopped her pacing to look back and forth between the men. She wore a hopeful expression. “Would that work? Do you have a horse you could bring in? Pierce, you may just be brilliant!”
“Of course I’m brilliant,” he smirked. “What about it, beanpole? You claim she’s the smartest horse you’ve ever seen. Are you willing to put your money where your mouth is?”
“My horse is twice as brilliant as you are,” Shelton snapped, his manner brusque. Clearly, there was still some lingering antagonism between the men. “She can pick up any routine, anytime.”
Jazz clasped her hands together in delight. “Then we can use her?”
The tall man suddenly looked unsure. “Oh, now, I—I don’t know about that.”
“If you’re chicken…” Pierce goaded.
“I ain’t no chicken! My horse can do anything any one of yours could do! And she’d do it better, too,” he boasted.
Jazz ignored their bickering. “Then it’s perfect!” she cried in delight. “If she’s already trained to run barrels, and she’s as smart as you say, she could easily take Tilly’s place in the show. Shelton, go get your horse and—” She stopped mid-sentence and shot a look toward Hannah. “Wait. We may have a problem.”
“Why are you looking at me?” Hannah asked.
“It’s a matter of paperwork. Insurance. The horse wouldn’t be covered under my policy, because, technically, I don’t own her.”
Hannah looked at Shelton. “How valuable is your horse?”
“She’s my best mare. You don’t want to know.”
Hannah huffed out a deep breath. “And how important is Tilly to the show?”
“Without her, or a suitable replacement, we’d have to cut at least half of the animal segments.”
“So, this is a big deal,” she surmised.
“Huge.”
An idea occurred to her. “Shelton, can I speak to you for a moment?” Hannah motioned for Shelton to follow.
He looked confused, but he stepped off to the side with her.
“I have an idea. Sell Jazz your horse.”
“Are you crazy? I’m not about to sell my horse!”
“Not for real,” she hastily assured him. “Just make up a bill of sale that would pass scrutiny if, for some reason, God forbid, you had to make an insurance claim.”
“God forbid is right!” he all but squeaked. “This is a prized piece of horseflesh we’re talking about! She comes from a distinguished bloodline and has birthed three world champions.”
“So, naturally, you want her fully insured, and Jazz would have to own her for that to happen. So, sell her the horse for the weekend.”
Shelton continued to look skeptical. “You don’t understand. That horse is like a part of my family. I’d just as soon saw off my right arm as lose that horse.”
“You won’t lose her. It would be on paper, only.”
He was clearly torn. He thought about it for a long moment, but when Shelton finally looked back down into her face, his brown eyes were sad. “I’m sorry, Hannah. I’d do just about anything to help you. That’s why I’m here this weekend, taking on a job I don’t have time for. It was important to you, and I wanted to help you. But this. This is asking too much.”
Hannah was disappointed, but she tried to understand his point of view.
“It’s just that we don’t know this woman,” he continued, even though she said nothing more. “We don’t know that we can trust her. What if she claims the sale is legit, and I lose my horse for real? I can’t take that chance. Not even for you,” he said sorrowfully.
“I understand,” Hannah said softly. His love and devotion to his horse was admirable.
“If it was any other horse…” he said. “But not Ladybird. She’s special.”
“Don’t give it another thought.” To show there were no hard feelings, Hannah patted his arm before they returned to the others.
“So,” Hannah announced. “I have a suggestion.”
Shelton looked at her sharply, but she continued, “Let’s use Shelton’s horse, and she’ll be covered under my insurance policy, should anything happen. Which, I’m sure, it won’t. Will that work?”
“If you have a standard liability policy that covers people and animals while on your property.”
“I do.”
“Well,” Jazz hesitated, looking skeptical. “It isn’t ideal, but I suppose it’s the best we can do. I’m sure that hunky lawyer of yours will point out that you purchased a policy from us. However, without me owning the horse, it clearly won’t be included in that coverage. He may object.” She rubbed her forehead, thinking aloud, “But if he’s out of
town until tonight…”
“Walker is just looking out for our best interests,” Hannah defended him. “And right now, our best interest is to have a fully functioning show. If we have to cut half the show, we can’t expect the audience to pay full price. And at half price, none of us would make any money,” she reasoned.
“It’s highly unusual,” Jazz warned.
“Let me handle Walker. You handle the show.”
“Are you sure?”
She had a moment of serious doubt. She considered calling Walker right now, to get his take on the situation. But he was in an important meeting, and she promised not to call except under dire circumstances. She didn’t think this qualified as such, not when the solution was so simple.
“No. I’m not sure,” she admitted, “but I don’t see another way around the problem.”
Jazz’s bright smile returned. “Okay, then, let’s do this!” She clapped her hands together excitedly, already making plans.
Shelton tugged on her hand, pulling her around for a hug. “Thank you, Hannah,” he said sincerely, wrapping his long arms around her in a heartfelt hug.
“Thank you. You’re the one providing the horse. Once again, you save the day!”
“I know this isn’t the right time,” he said, gazing down at her. “But when this is over, I plan to show you exactly how special I think you are.”
Unsure how to respond, Hannah cleared her throat and gently extracted herself from his arms. “I have to get back to the inn. Good luck.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Hannah arrived back at the inn as the first car pulled up. The doors of the green mini-van opened and three rumpled children spilled out, all speaking at once. From her vantage point inside, she couldn’t tell if they were laughing or fighting, but one thing she knew for certain: they were loud. Not for the first time, she questioned her wisdom in career choices.
Taking her place behind the check-in counter, she argued with herself that it hadn’t exactly been her choice. JoeJoe made the decision for her when he purchased the inn.
Her alter ego made the argument that while he had given the inn to her as a gift, it was her decision to accept it. It was her decision to stay. As Pierce pointed out less than an hour ago, her uncle was a very rich man. Whether she accepted the present made no impact on his portfolio. To him, it was merely a novelty, gifting his niece a town that bore her name. A story he could tell at dinner parties and among his millionaire friends.