The Cowboy

by Jayne Ann Krentz

  Margaret drummed her fingers thoughtfully on her forearms. "Just what did Rafe say at that first meeting?"

  Connor shrugged. "Not much to start. Just let me rant and rave at him and call him every name in the book. Then, when I'd calmed down, he poured me a glass of Scotch and gave me his side of the story."

  "And you instantly forgave him? Figured he was the innocent party, after all?"

  "Hell, no." Connor glowered at her. "You're still my daughter, Maggie. You know I'd defend you to the last ditch, no matter what."

  "Thanks, Dad."

  "But," Connor continued deliberately, "I was extremely interested in the other side of the story. I'd taken to Cassidy right off when you introduced us last year. You know that. Figured he was just the man for you. Don't mind sayin' I was real upset with myself to think I'd misjudged the man that badly. I was relieved to find out the situation wasn't exactly what you'd call black and white. There was a lot of gray area and after a couple of Scotches and some rational conversation I could sort of see Cassidy's point of view."

  "Rafe can be very persuasive," Margaret murmured.

  "And you, Maggie, girl, can be a bit high in the instep when it suits you."

  "So it was all my fault, after all? Is that what you decided?"

  "No, it wasn't. Don't put words in my mouth, girl. All I'm sayin' is that when I heard Cassidy's side of the tale, I did some thinkin'."

  Margaret couldn't help but grin. "You mean you reevaluated the situation?"

  Connor chuckled. "Somethin' like that. At any rate, when I realized Cassidy was dead serious about gettin' you back, I figured I might lend him a hand." Connor's smile broadened conspiratorially. "Then he introduced me to Bev and I knew for certain I'd help him out."

  "Your father," Rafe announced from the open doorway behind Margaret, "is a man who has his priorities straight. He just wanted you and me to get ours straightened out, too."

  Margaret jumped and turned her head to glance over her shoulder. Rafe sauntered into the room, a drink in his hand. He was dressed for the party in a pair of gray, Western-cut trousers, a black shirt and a bolo tie made of white leather. His boots were also made of white leather with an elaborate floral design picked out in silver and black.

  "How long have you been standing there?" Margaret asked, thinking that there were times when she felt distinctly underdressed around Rafe.

  "Not long." He put his arm around her waist and grinned at Connor. "I wondered when she'd cut you out of the herd and demand a few private explanations, Connor. Need any help?"

  "Nope. Maggie and I got it all sorted out, didn't we, girl?"

  "If you say so, Dad."

  Rafe grinned. "Good. Now that you two have that settled maybe you can give me some advice on what to do about Julie's artist friend. Did you meet him yet?" He shook his head. "I knew when she went to work managing that art supply store she'd be mixing with a bad crowd."

  Margaret glared at him. "I met Sean Winters earlier this evening when I was first introduced to your sister. I like him. He seems very nice and he treats Julie like a queen. Where's the problem?"

  Rafe gave her a sidelong glance as he took a swallow out of his glass. "Weren't you listening? The problem is that the guy's an artist."

  "So?" Margaret arched her brows. "I'm a writer. You got something against people who make their living in the creative fields, Cassidy?"

  Rafe winced. "Now, Maggie, love, don't take what I said as a personal comment, okay? I just can't see my sister marrying some guy who makes a living painting pictures."

  "Why not?"

  "Well, for one thing, it's not exactly a stable profession, is it? No regular salary, no benefits, no pension plan, no telling how long the career will last."

  "Same with writing," Margaret assured him cheerfully. "And what's so all-fired safe about other professions? A person is always at risk of getting fired or being laid off or of being forced to resign. Look at my situation last year."

  "Let's not get into that," Rafe said tersely.

  "Nevertheless, you have to admit no job is really guaranteed for life. How many times have you seen a so-called friendly merger result in a purge of management that cost dozens of jobs?"

  "Yeah, but…"

  "I wouldn't be surprised if some of the mergers and buy-outs you've instigated have resulted in exactly that kind of purge."

  "We're not talking about me, here, remember? We're discussing Julie's artist friend. Hell, he's from a whole different world. They've got nothing in common. Julie's got a degree in business administration, although she has yet to do much with it. She's not the artsy-craftsy type. What does she see in Winters?"

  "You're just looking for excuses, Rafe. You've got a typical redneck macho male's built-in prejudice against men in the creative arts and you're using the insecurity of the business as a reason to disapprove of Sean as a boyfriend for your sister."

  "Damn." Rafe looked appealingly at Connor. "Wish I'd kept my mouth shut."

  "Don't look to me for backup on this one." Connor gave his host a wide grin. "I learned my lesson a few years back when Maggie here was dating an artist. I tried to give her the same lecture. Couldn't see my girl getting involved with some weirdo who hung out with the art crowd. You should have seen his stuff, Cassidy. Little bits of aluminum cans stuck all over his canvasses."

  That got a quick scowl out of Rafe. He glanced at Maggie. "How long did you date the weirdo?"

  "Jon was not a weirdo. He was a very successful multimedia artist who has since gone on to make more from a single painting than I make from a single book. I've got one of his early works hanging in my living room, if you will recall."

  Rafe's eyes narrowed. "That thing on your wall that looks like a collection of recycled junk?"

  "I'll have you know that if I ever get desperate financially I'll be able to hock that collection of recycled junk for enough money to live on for a couple of years. It was a terrific investment."

  "How long did you date him?" Rafe demanded again.

  "Jealous?"

  "Damn right."

  Margaret grinned. "Don't be. Jon was a wonderful man in many respects but it was obvious from the start we weren't meant for each other."

  "Yeah? How was it so obvious?"

  "He was a night person. I'm a morning person. And never the twain shall meet. At least not for long."

  "Glad to hear it."

  "The point is, our incompatibility had nothing to do with his profession. And you shouldn't judge your sister's boyfriend on his choice of careers. Besides, Julie's old enough to make her own decisions when it comes to men."

  "That's another point. He's too old for her."

  "He is not. He's thirty-five. The difference between their ages isn't much more than the difference between our ages, Rafe."

  "Okay, okay, let's drop this discussion. We're supposed to be celebrating an engagement here tonight." Rafe looked at Connor with a hint of desperation. "Need some help with the ice?"

  "Appreciate it," Connor said.

  Rafe gave Margaret a quick, hard kiss. "See you outside in a few minutes, honey."

  "Go ahead. Make your escape. But keep in mind what I said about giving Sean Winters a chance." Margaret fixed both men with a meaningful glance before she turned and headed for the door.

  "Whew." Rafe exhaled on a sigh of relief as he watched her leave the room. He stared after her departing figure for a moment, enjoying the sight of her neatly rounded derriere moving gently under her elegant cream silk skirt.

  "I know what you mean," Connor said. "Women get funny notions sometimes. Maggie tends to be real opinionated."

  Rafe took another sip of his Scotch. "Was she really torn up after she stopped seeing the artist?"

  Connor laughed and started for the kitchen. "Let me put it this way. One week after she'd stopped dating him she was dating a banker. One week after you and she broke up, she went into hibernation."

  Rafe nodded, satisfied. "Yeah, I know. If it makes you feel a
ny better, Connor, my social life followed roughly the same pattern during the past year."

  "That's one of the reasons I agreed to help you get her back," Connor said. "Couldn't stand to see the two of you sufferin' like a couple of stranded calves. It was pitiful, just pitiful."

  "Thanks, Lark. You're one of nature's noblemen."

  Outside on the patio Margaret helped herself to another round of salad while she chatted easily with several of the guests. She was answering a barrage of questions concerning publishing when Rafe's sister materialized with her friend the artist in tow.

  Margaret had met Julie and Sean earlier in the evening and had liked them both although she had sensed a certain reserve in Julie. Rafe's sister was a pretty creature with light brown hair, her mother's delicate bone structure and dark, intelligent eyes.

  Sean Winters was a tall, thin man who had an easygoing smile and quick, expressive features. He greeted Margaret with a smile.

  "How's it going, Margaret? Cassidy find you? He was looking for you a few minutes ago," Sean said.

  "He found me. He's inside helping my father with the ice. It's a lovely party, isn't it?"

  "Well, hardly the sort of bash we weird, bohemian types usually enjoy. No kinky sex, funny cigarettes or heavy metal music, but I'm adjusting," Sean said.

  Margaret laughed but Julie looked stricken.

  "Don't say that," Julie whispered tightly.

  Sean shrugged. "Honey, it's no secret your brother isn't all that enthusiastic about having an artist in the family."

  Julie bit her lip. "Well, he's going to have one in the family, so he better get used to the idea. I won't have him insulting you."

  "He didn't insult me. He just doesn't think I'm good enough for you."

  "He's tried to play the role of father for me ever since Dad died," Julie explained apologetically. "I know he means well, but the trouble with Rafe is that he doesn't know when to step back and let someone make their own decisions. He's been giving orders around here so long, he assumes that's the way the world works. Rafe Cassidy says jump and everyone asks how high. He's totally astounded when someone doesn't." Julie glanced at Margaret. "The way Margaret didn't last year."

  "I don't know what you mean," Margaret said calmly. "I followed orders last year. Rafe said to get out and I went."

  Julie sighed. "Yes, but you were supposed to come back."

  "So I've been told. On my hands and knees."

  "Would that have been so hard?"

  "Impossible," Margaret assured her, aware of the sudden tightness in her voice. Her pride was all she'd had left last year. She'd clung to it as if it had been a lifeline.

  "My brother was in bad shape for a long time after you left. I've never seen him the way he was this past year and I admit I blamed you for it. I think I hated you myself for a while, even though I'd never met you. I couldn't stand what you'd done to him." Julie's dark eyes were very intent and serious.

  Margaret understood the reserve she'd sensed in Rafe's sister. "It's natural that you'd feel protective of your brother."

  "It was a battle of wills as far as Rafe was concerned. And he lost. He doesn't like to lose, Margaret."

  Margaret blinked. "He lost? How on earth do you figure that?"

  "He finally realized that the only way you were going to come back was for him to lower his pride and go and get you. It was probably one of the hardest things he's ever done. Mom says now that it was good for him, but I'm not so sure."

  "Lower his pride?" Margaret was flabbergasted by that interpretation of events. "You think that's what Rafe did when he went to Seattle to fetch me down here?"

  "Of course."

  "Julie, it wasn't anything like that at all. Not that it's anyone else's business, but the truth is, I was virtually blackmailed and kidnapped. I didn't notice Rafe having to surrender one square inch of his pride."

  "Then you don't know my brother very well," Julie said. She put her hand on Sean's arm. "But I shouldn't say anything. It's between you and Rafe. Mom may have been right, maybe Rafe did need the jolt you gave him. He's accustomed to having things his way and it's no secret that people cater to him. But that doesn't change the fact that he's human and he can be hurt. And he's got a thing about loyalty."

  "I don't think you need to worry about protecting your big brother," Sean murmured. "Something tells me he can take care of himself."

  Julie groaned. "You're right. Besides, right now I've got my own problems with him. To tell you the truth, Margaret, I'm inclined to sympathize with you at the moment. Rafe can be extremely bullheaded when it comes to his own opinions. I haven't dared tell him yet just how serious Sean and I are. He thinks we're just dating casually, but the truth is Sean and I are going to get married whether Rafe approves or not."

  "Give Rafe a chance to know Sean." Margaret smiled at the artist. "He's really fairly reasonable about most things, once you get his full attention."

  "If you say so."

  "I'm sure you know as well as I do that folks in the business world have a hard time understanding people in the art world."

  "True." Sean's eyes gleamed with amusement. "And the situation isn't improved any by the fact that Cassidy is basically a cowboy who happens to be a genius when it comes to business. Maybe I should invite him to a showing of some of my work. Then he could at least judge me on the basis of my art. If he's going to criticize me, he might as well know what he's talking about."

  "But Rafe hates modern art," Julie exclaimed.

  "He's fully capable of appreciating it if he puts his mind to it," Margaret said. She remembered the discussion she'd had with Rafe on good wine and good hotels. "He may be a cowboy at heart, but he's very good at moving in different worlds when he feels like it."

  Julie eyed her thoughtfully. "You've got a point. My brother likes to play the redneck when it suits him, but I've heard him talk European politics with businessmen from England and West Germany and I've even seen him eat sushi with some Japanese distributors."

  Margaret looked up at Sean. "Letting him see your work is not a bad idea at all, Sean. When's the next scheduled exhibition of your work?"

  Julie interrupted before Sean could reply. "There's one on Monday evening at the gallery here in town that handles Sean's work. Do you think you could convince Rafe to come?"

  "I'll talk to him," Margaret promised.

  "Don't get your hopes up, Julie." Sean's voice was gentle. "Even if Margaret gets him there we can't expect him to instantly change his mind about me."

  "No," Julie agreed, "but it would at least be a sign that he's willing to give you a chance. Margaret, if you can pull this off, I will definitely owe you one."

  Margaret laughed, feeling completely relaxed around Julie for the first time since she had met her. "I'll keep that in mind."

  Julie turned to Sean. "Look, the band is starting up again. Let's dance."

  "All right. I could use a few more lessons in Western swing. If I'm going to marry a ranch girl, I'd better learn a few of the ropes." Sean put down his glass. He nodded at Margaret. "Thanks," he said as he took Julie's arm.

  "No problem. Us non-business types sometimes have to stick together."

  "You've got a point."

  Margaret watched the handsome couple disappear into the throng of people dancing on the patio. She was idly tapping her foot and wondering where Rafe was when she suddenly became aware of Doug Hatcher standing behind her. She turned to smile brightly at him, thinking that he was about to ask her to dance. But his first remark dispelled that illusion.

  "You're settling in very quickly around here, aren't you?" Doug's words were carefully enunciated, as if he was afraid of slurring them.

  Margaret felt a frisson of uneasiness. "Hello, Doug. I didn't see you there. Enjoying the party?" She eyed the half-empty glass in his hand and the careful way he was holding himself and wondered if he was a little drunk. She realized she had never before seen him drink anything at all.

  "You've definitely moved in o
n the Cassidy clan." Doug took a long pull on his drink. "You're changing things around here."

  "I am?"

  "Don't be so modest, Miss Lark." Doug stared at her and nodded, as if at some private understanding. "Yeah. You've changed him all right."

  "Are we talking about Rafe?"

  "He's different now."

  "In what way, Doug?"

  "Getting soft."

  "Soft? Rafe?" She was genuinely startled by that comment.

  "It's true." Doug nodded again, frowning. "When I first went to work for him he was like a knife. He'd just cut through everything in his path. But a year ago things changed. Oh, we put together a couple of good deals this past year, but it's not like the old days. I thought it was going to be all right for the first few months but then he decided he wanted you back."

  "He talked about me to you?"

  Doug shook his head, the gesture slightly exaggerated. "He didn't have to. I know him. I knew what he was thinking about and it wasn't about business. Like I said, he's gone soft, lost his edge. When he does think about business, he only thinks about one thing these days." He turned abruptly, caught himself as he nearly lost his balance and then vanished into the crowd.

  Margaret took a deep breath as she dared to hope that the one thing Rafe thought about most these days was her. She didn't expect him to spend the rest of his life focusing entirely on her, she told herself. She fully understood that he had a major corporation to run and a ranch to manage. She had no intention of being unreasonable.

  But it was comforting to know that there was growing evidence that she was finally important enough to him to make him alter his normal way of doing business. A year ago she had not been at all certain she held that much significance in his life.

  "You look like you're enjoying yourself, Maggie, love." Rafe materialized out of the crowd and took her hand to lead her onto the dance floor. "Can I conclude that the thought of engagement parties in general no longer is enough to send you running for cover?"

  She smiled up at him, aware of the sheer pleasure of being in his arms. His beautifully controlled physical strength was one of the most compelling qualities he possessed. She loved being wrapped up in it. "I'm having a great time at this one," she admitted.