He should be able to answer that question. “You think he’s cheating me?” Jason refused to believe it.
Stogey turned and licked Jason’s chin, wagging his little tail as if that tail wag was needed to lift his spirits.
Actually, it was.
Ken scoffed. “You think you can prove he’s not?”
Again, Jason didn’t answer. Iggy was a lot of things, but a thief? He didn’t think so.
It’s always the best friend, George whispered.
Or the trustworthy judge, Jason snapped back.
“What was that?” Ken gave him a concerned look that was short-lived because his cell phone buzzed with a message.
“Nothing,” Jason grumbled, thinking about the picnic Iggy was throwing tomorrow at Bull Puckey Breeding to celebrate their fifth year in business. Now wasn’t the time to hash this out with him.
A hummingbird darted past, wings louder than a bumblebee. Again Stogey perked up. Again the bird was gone by the time he got to looking around.
He’s as slow about birds as I am about my business practices.
Now you’re catching on, genius.
“George, you are so annoying,” Jason said under his breath.
“What was that?” Ken didn’t look up from his cell phone.
“Nothing.”
Something created a ripple in the pond. Stogey yawned.
Ken set the phone aside and reclaimed his beer. “Have you told Darcy about your video project? Imagine the fun we could have revealing you weren’t ever married.”
There’s a reason why she’s still wearing my ring, George said in that superior voice of his.
“Don’t even joke about it.” Jason scowled at his ringless left hand, thinking about the rock Darcy wore and the much smaller engagement ring he’d bought for her last year.
That’s going to keep you up at night. George chuckled.
Out on the road, out of sight, a vehicle engine downshifted. It was too early for Bitsy and Darcy to return. He’d checked on Pearl in her cottage before Ken arrived. Which left…
Him clueless.
A black truck rolled past the portico, kicking up dust. It came to a halt next to Ken’s rental car.
Jason turned. The setting sun was in his eyes, and he couldn’t immediately recognize the man who got out. “Who’s that?”
“Not to worry.” Ken stood. “I invited him. Hey, Tom.”
“Tom? Tom Bodine?” Jason set Stogey on the ground and got to his feet. Stogey waddled up to greet their visitor.
Tom strode across the grass toward them as if he owned the place. He wore a blue chambray shirt and his trademark black cowboy hat. “Evenin’.”
Jason moved to the water’s edge, picking up flat, smooth stones. He skipped one, sending a series of ripples across the pond.
“Thanks for coming.” Ken indicated he should take a seat. In Jason’s chair.
You mistakenly gave up that ground, George said in that know-it-all voice.
Jason threw another stone. It hopped once and sank.
“I brought whiskey,” Ken said. And surprisingly, he had. He produced a knitted bag that looked suspiciously like something Jason’s mother would make. It held a bottle and three glasses—real glass tumblers, mind you. Nothing but the best for Ken Tadashi.
He represents you, doesn’t he? Be grateful he’s not like your friend Iggy. George was prickly today.
“Nothing but the knitted best,” Jason muttered, earning a sharp glance from Ken.
Tom took the generous pour of whiskey that was handed to him. “Nice place. George never had me out here.”
“It’s a fixer-upper.” Apparently Ken had taken charge of the conversation, the same way he took charge during negotiations with Jason’s sponsors. “Someday my client will grow up and get a place of his own.”
The client in question swigged whiskey from the glass he held in one hand, shaking stones in the other.
Tom made a noncommittal noise.
So far, whatever negotiations Ken had up his sleeve had stalled out. The men drank. Stogey lay on his back and squirmed, giving himself a good back rub.
“Have any trouble finding the place?” Ken continued his role as the good host.
Tom grunted. “It’s Sunshine.”
Jason nodded. Just about everyone knew where everyone else lived in Sunshine.
“Have you thought any more about my proposition?” Ken asked, earning a dark look from Jason, who hadn’t authorized any propositions.
For a businessman, you leave too much business to others.
Thanks for the tip, George.
For sure, Mr. Fix-It needed to nurture his client-agent relationship by opening channels of communication. Iggy wasn’t the only one who needed a tighter rein.
“My boys told me you’re shooting a movie in town.” Tom chuckled. “They’re partial to those slasher horror films over cowboy flicks. Personally, I have no use for Hollywood cowboys.”
“It’s not that type of film,” Ken said with good humor, grinning at his client—the supposed Hollywood cowboy.
Being the butt of the joke, Jason didn’t even crack a smile. He felt like glaring and scowling at everyone, which was Tom’s modus operandi. When had their roles been reversed?
Jason sipped his whiskey, focusing on the bite of alcohol as it went down.
“Tom, as I told you, there’s an opportunity for you to brand your beef regionally. Bodine Beef.” Ken passed his hand through the air like he was painting a billboard. “Grocery stores like a way to differentiate unbranded products, like milk and meat. And by pursuing a branding strategy, you can tack on a little premium with each sale.”
“And the Hollywood cowboy would advertise my brand.” It wasn’t a question. And it wasn’t a happy statement. Tom delivered it like a dig at Jason and waited for a reaction.
Instead of rejecting the idea out of hand, Jason felt it wise to keep quiet but not silent. He dropped the rocks in the shallows, where he could find them later.
If Ken was unnerved by Tom’s goading, he didn’t show it. “As I proposed, Jason would be a spokesperson for Bodine Beef for one year. You can use his image on your promotional material, gratis. And Bull Puckey Breeding will refund your purchase price.” Ken sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “But in exchange you’ll drop the lawsuit, including the claim for suffering.”
“And no more pressuring other ranchers to cancel orders,” Jason found himself adding, although he was in awe of his agent’s wheeling and dealing. In awe, but still annoyed that he’d been kept in the dark.
“I don’t know.” Tom swirled what was left of his whiskey. “I consulted with my attorney today. He informed me that there’d be other costs involved in branding Bodine Beef. Creating the brand logo, licensing, hiring a salesman.”
Like that was a hardship. It was Jason who was bending over backward here. He set his jaw, ready to bid Tom and his demands good night. He’d start a fire in the fireplace and wait for Darcy to return. He’d pull her into his lap and she’d kiss away this feeling that his life was spiraling out of control.
And whose fault is that? Ignacio isn’t the only cowboy in Sunshine who needs to mature.
Jason ground his teeth over losing an argument with a dead man. Worse, a dead man whose ring his wife still wore.
“I said we’d help you get a leg up on profit.” Ken was using his business voice. Everybody who knew Ken knew that tone meant the best and final offer was about to go on the table. It was time for Tom to pull up a chair or pass. “I didn’t say we’d finance your venture. That is…”—he slid Jason a calculating look—“unless you’re considering giving us part ownership in Bodine Beef.”
“Part owner! You got some nerve.” Tom stood, tossing the rest of his whiskey in the grass. “I’m owed, not the other way around.”
Stogey got to his feet, sniffing the air. Jason picked him up to keep him out of trouble. That dog would try to ingest anything, from grass to whiskey-soaked grass.
“You sit on our offer for a couple of days,” Ken said calmly. “Tell your lawyer to put a dollar figure to the value of our endorsement. It’s worth more than your request for suffering.”
Tom’s fingers clenched around the glass, almost as if he were considering smashing it against something. Instead he set it on the chair and left them.
Jason waited for the truck engine to roar to life and the truck to pull out of sight before he said anything to Ken. “I don’t appreciate not being consulted before you made Tom an offer. He wants a piece of me for free.”
“I didn’t tell you before because I wasn’t sure he’d bite.” Ken finished his whiskey and stood. “You complain about dandruff shampoo and hemorrhoid money, so I bring you beef. Which has the added benefit of getting you out of that jam your so-called business partner backed you into and has an opportunity for an extension after year one’s freebie. Let me do my job so you can do yours—go legit with Darcy and ride some moneymaking bulls.” Ken tightened the cap on the whiskey bottle, shoving it back in its knitted bag. “Just don’t compete until after you’ve seen an orthopedic specialist.”
My job. When had Jason’s job stopped being about an eight-second thrill? He had more than a leg to mend and his talent to keep up. He had an image, an agent, and a business partner to manage. He had to do a better job at this adulting thing. If not for himself, for Darcy and the life he was itching to start with her.
About time you caught on.
George…
Chapter Nineteen
I just want to go on record as saying we’re in this together,” Jason said to Darcy on Sunday, just as they pulled up to his mother’s house on their way to his company’s picnic. “If it becomes public knowledge, I’ll make a statement about how I knew all along and didn’t tell you.”
“What brought this on?” Darcy scratched Stogey behind the ears. “Did Rupert find out that we’re married? Is Pearl going to use it against me to get Stogey?”
“No. Nothing like that.” Jason frowned, gripping the steering wheel. “I just wanted you to know that I plan to do a better job living up to my responsibilities both personally and professionally. And we…” His gaze came to rest on Darcy’s left hand. “How much longer are you going to wear George’s ring?”
Darcy spun her wedding ring, torn between her choices. Go slow and shelter Jason from the bad press her bigamy would elicit, because there were no long-term secrets in today’s world, or hold tight to the love he offered now and hope he never asked more about her past? “I don’t know?”
“Sometimes I feel as if George gets priority over me.” His tone, his clenched jaw, his firm grip on the steering wheel…Something was eating at Jason and had been since before she’d returned from Greeley last night. “Do you want to be married to me or not?”
“I—”
“Darcy, it’s so good to see you.” Nancy climbed into the back seat and buckled in. There was an awkward silence. “Did I interrupt something?”
Jason and Darcy both denied it.
“Good.” Nancy handed Darcy a round, frilly knitted item that was jailhouse orange. “Ken suggested I branch out with merchandise. I made you a scrunchie.”
“Oh.” Darcy tested its elasticity and then used it to make a low ponytail.
“And Jason, I made one of those bands you wear beneath the knee to strengthen your joints.” Nancy passed a copper-colored knitted band to her son.
“My joints are fine.” But the way Jason said it contradicted his statement.
“Your leg, I mean,” Nancy amended.
“What’s wrong with your leg?” Darcy stared at his jeans-clad thigh.
“Nothing.” Jason accelerated as if they were late to the party.
“He gets twinges,” Nancy said.
“Mom.” Jason kept his eyes on the road.
“Don’t feel bad about not knowing, Darcy,” Nancy said primly. “He told Ken and I overheard.”
“That doesn’t make me feel better.” Not at all. Darcy clutched Stogey to her chest.
“It’s just a twinge.” He was trying too hard to make light of that fact.
Things dropped into place for Darcy, images of Jason unsteady on his feet. “You almost fell when you were running! And at the pond when I thought you were encouraging me to sit in your lap…” She suddenly remembered Nancy was in the back seat. To heck with it. “You were rubbing out the twinge, weren’t you?”
“Everyone needs to take a breath,” Jason said woodenly. “Every once in a while the nerve around my pins gets irritated and takes me by surprise. No big deal.”
“You said something similar when you had a cracked rib,” Nancy noted.
“And a concussion.” Darcy leaned back to take him in. “Is this why you haven’t returned to the circuit?”
“I’m in town to support you,” he ground out.
Darcy wasn’t so sure. “And if I said I’d wear your ring instead of George’s, would you head back out on the circuit tomorrow?”
Nancy gasped.
“You need me here,” Jason said gruffly, his features carved in stone.
“Did you ask Darcy to marry you?” Nancy leaned forward, all ears.
“No,” Jason snapped.
Darcy didn’t deny it but she didn’t answer Nancy either. “This explains why Ken’s here. He’d never let you compete if you weren’t ready. Have you seen a specialist?”
“It’s just a twinge,” Jason reiterated as if it were no big deal. He used the same tone and words when she talked about her Jonesness. He’d always been good at downplaying the negative.
They drove in silence the rest of the way to Bull Puckey Breeding. It was located in a big metal barn filled with pampered bulls and high-end cryogenic equipment. There were several corrals and pastures in back. The picnic had been set up near the fence lines of both. Iggy stood near a large, smoky gas barbecue, surrounded by several picnic tables and the Widows Club board. Nancy hurried to join them, carrying a dish holding cubed bread and spinach dip.
Carrying the carrot cake she’d made, Darcy managed to get between Jason and the beer cooler in the truck bed before he could lift it out. “I’m an excuse, aren’t I? The personal reason you give as to why you haven’t joined the circuit this year. You aren’t just hiding the truth from me. You’re being dishonest to the rest of the world.”
His brows lowered, but he wouldn’t look at her. “I’m here because I love you.”
“And because your leg twinges,” she said bluntly, not willing to let that slide. “Will it ever heal?” She looked him up and down. “I wish you’d retire. I wish you didn’t feel the need to risk your life because it makes your ego feel better.”
Jason’s blue gaze was dark and stormy. “Why can’t you wear my ring?”
“Because it won’t solve anything,” she whispered back, ready to weather the oncoming storm.
Other vehicles began to pull in. Friends greeted them.
Jason and his turbulent mood moved on. He carried the beer cooler to Iggy.
Darcy followed at a slower pace. Mims took the carrot cake Darcy had made and found a spot for it. Stogey took up a shady spot beneath the food table, presumably waiting for a morsel to drop. Darcy didn’t have the heart to keep him with her in the hot sun.
Nancy put an arm around Darcy’s waist. “Doc Janney told him nerves sometimes take longer to heal.”
Darcy leaned into her mother-in-law. “I’ve seen him stumble. I’ve seen him massage his thigh as if it hurt. Bull riders can’t afford a twinge.”
“Bull riders don’t talk about bumps and bruises.” Nancy sighed. “He won’t ride until he’s one hundred percent.”
“I hope you’re right.”
More guests arrived. A game of cornhole was set up. Darcy found herself surrounded by friends on the sidelines, watching Jason take on Kevin, watching for any sign of the mysterious twinge.
“I see hints of the old Darcy.” Avery gave Darcy’s conservative skirt and blouse a once-over.
“More stay-at-home mom than babe on the arm of a rodeo champ, but you’re getting there.”
“You’re giving me grief for moving from dowdy to conservative.” Darcy practically growled at her girlfriend. “Judges don’t show cleavage or wear short skirts.” Both of which could have described Avery’s outfit.
“Missing your old life?” Avery teased.
“No.” And it was true. Thanks to Sonny, Darcy was comfortable where she was landing fashionwise.
“Come on, Kev. Use those college football skills. Attaboy!” Mary Margaret spared Darcy’s ensemble a glance as her fiancé tossed a beanbag at the target. “That’d pass for a kindergarten teacher outfit. I like it.”
“It’s good to have you back,” Lola said softly.
“She never went away,” Avery said. “She just didn’t have as much time for us.”
Lola gave Darcy a quick hug. “She knows what I mean.”
And Darcy did. Lola meant the guard Darcy had put up as Mrs. George Harper had come down, along with her hair, if she hadn’t been using Nancy’s knitted scrunchie.
“I used to play softball.” Edith elbowed her way to the front of the rapidly expanding audience. “Same type of pitch. I should kill at this game. Who’s up for a challenge?”
Before anyone took the widow on, a car pulled up out front.
“Who’s that?” Lola was taller than Darcy and craned her neck to look over the attendees.
Edith plowed her way to the other side of the onlookers. “It’s Ken and Rupert. I challenge you to a game of cornhole, Ken. New York City versus Sunshine. What do you say?”
“You’re on.” Jason’s agent cut through the crowd to reach Edith, nodding a greeting to Darcy.
Avery gripped Darcy’s arm. “Do you know His Hotness?”
Darcy nodded, and explained who Ken was.
Rupert took up a position across from them. Someone handed him a hard seltzer.
“What’s Rupert doing here?” Avery muttered to Darcy. “Is he keeping tabs on you?”
“Why else would he be here?” Mary Margaret turned her attention back to Kevin’s play. “Kev, you overshot the mark. Focus.”
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