by Lucy Farago
Coming up from behind, she linked her arm through his. “Here you are.”
He’d never looked happier to see her and Grace had to bite back a laugh. “Hey. You’ve met Ella, right?” he asked.
“Yes, the morning after the storm. Ella, happy birthday.” The dress really did suit her, even though she was somewhat lost in all that tulle. She could use a few pounds, but Grace understood the pressure put on young women to stay thin.
“Thank you,” Ella said, eyeing their linked arms and now the hand Cowboy placed over Grace’s.
She might only be a kid but she was really smart. Her face said she got the message.
“Ella,” her mother called from some twenty feet away. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”
Ella rolled her eyes. “I swear if I have to meet one more windbag, I’m going to scream.”
Now that was a teenager talking. Grace let a small laugh escape.
Ella quickly realized her mistake and covered her mouth. “Please don’t tell my mom I said that.”
“We won’t,” Grace assured her. “And see that guy standing with your grandfather to the left of the pool?”
Ella turned to look. “Yes.”
“He’s so full of hot air that if you strapped a basket to him, you could fly over Texas.”
Ella giggled. “Thanks for the warning. I’d better go.” And off she went, plastering that practiced smile on her pretty face.
“Thank you,” Cowboy said, breathing a sigh of relief.
“She likes you.”
“Be nice,” he said, taking her hand and leading her away from the milling guests.
“Where are we going? And not so fast. Heels weren’t made for grass,” she said as he tugged her across the back lawn.
“We’re going to go visit Black Magic.”
“Who?” she said, afraid she knew exactly who he meant.
“Ella’s horse. She named her Black Magic.”
She tried to pull her hand free. “She’s probably not up for visitors. I bet Ella took her out this morning and she’s exhausted.”
“It was a short ride. Start looking like you’re enjoying this.”
“But I’m not,” she said with a tight grin, trying not to draw the attention of two elderly men who passed them by.
He stopped and ran his knuckles across her cheek. It tickled. “Grace, the barn is on the way to the stables. Either look like you’re excited to see the horse or really desperate to get me alone. Choose.”
He was kidding. But she got the message. “Oh, goodie, let’s go see Ella’s new horse.”
“That’s my girl. Have I told you,” he said, taking a long appreciative look at the dress he’d bought her, “how beautiful you look?”
He had. Several times, but honestly did a girl ever get sick of hearing it? “No.”
He gave her that wicked cowboy grin. “The dress was made for you. No one else could look as beautiful in it.”
She smiled. She couldn’t help herself. “And I’m still paying you back for it.”
“And I told you I’m just going to write it off as a business expense. Keep your money.”
She wondered if the IRS would consider a dress a business expense. “Are you lying?”
“Dang. All right, I bought you the dress. Can you not accept the gift and be done with it? You know I can afford it. And honestly I really wanted to see you wear it. It was more for me than you. Cross my heart.” Which he proceeded to do.
“Thank you.” She appreciated his honesty.
“You’re welcome.”
The horse looked to be chilling comfortably in her state-of-the-art stable. Several guests were admiring her when one surprised them by recognizing Cowboy.
“You’re Daniel Bailey. It’s an honor to meet you,” he said. Dressed in a conservative blue suit and a simple silver bolo tie, he shook Cowboy’s hand with the exuberance of a man meeting his idol. “I was there when you finaled in Charlotte. Real good run. Real good run,” he said while trying to dislodge Cowboy’s arm from its socket. “I heard tell you retired. Did that myself last year, but I’m fifty-two. Not a young one like you.”
“Yes sir. Gets to be a little hard on a man’s back. Figured I’d quit serious riding while I was on top.”
“True enough, no one’s come near your record. You should have seen him ride, little lady. It was something. Youngest man to hold three consecutive titles. Course, your reputation wasn’t solely built on riding.” He winked at Cowboy.
Her first guess would’ve been he’d been a man-whore, but that didn’t match what she’d come to know of him. They continued to chat about the circuit and she smiled, pretending to understand what in the hell they were talking about. To her, riding a horse was bad enough, but one with a bucking strap was just plain stupid. When the man finally left she had one important question for Cowboy.
“Ever get your nuts stomped on?” Because what else did one ask someone crazy enough to ride a horse who clearly didn’t want to be ridden?
Cowboy laughed. “Nah, but I broke my arm once.” Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a sugar cube and held it between his fingers. “Show an animal respect and a whole lot of love. and he tends to avoid neutering you.” He went to Black Magic, who happily took the treat.
“You never mentioned you were champion.” Which to her was odd. People who used an alias had something to hide, didn’t they? So why do something as public as compete in rodeos? “You were a well-known rider?”
“Is that your way of asking me to teach you to ride?”
“Not a chance, cowboy.”
He nodded for her to join him at the stall. She did but made certain to stay far away from Magic’s teeth.
“She won’t bite. Come on,” he said, encouraging her to go closer.
“You’re going to make me touch her, aren’t you?” Of course he was.
“She’s gentle. I’d never have recommended an ornery horse for a sixteen-year-old kid. Just relax. Animals aren’t stupid and they can sense fear.”
“So maybe it’s better I keep my distance.”
He smiled, that smile that never failed to melt her insides. “Grace, honey, she’s behind a stall.”
She lifted her hand and scratched the horse’s nose. It wasn’t soft as much as it was sleek. Magic, thankfully, made no sudden movements. She opened her palm and stroked her mane. “Why did you quit competing? Did you realize animal cruelty shouldn’t be a sport?” She gave him a wide, toothy grin. “Or was there another reason?” Had his past caught up to him? Was he running from something?
He gave her a disappointed shake of his head. “My horses were treated well and I made sure every guideline was followed at any rodeo I attended. I left for different reasons.”
“Mind if I ask what they were?” Would he tell her?
“Let’s get out of here.” He took her hand and she followed him out of the stable and into the sunshine. “The security cameras were rolling. Better we talk out here. I left the rodeo because Ryan offered me a job.”
That made sense and frankly eased her mind a little. “Oh.”
“Didn’t have much of a choice,” he said. “I wasn’t in a good place when Ryan found me.”
“No?” Together they walked the path, eyeballing the barn as they passed it. Neither saying anything. There were far too many guests milling about to risk getting caught snooping where they didn’t belong. Though Mrs. Stanton was still absent.
“I never did drugs,” he assured her. “And it wasn’t that I drank too much, as much as I didn’t know when to stop when I did. And the women, well, let’s just say alcohol wasn’t the only thing I didn’t know how to say no to.” He chuckled. “Want to know how I met my boss?”
“Drinking and womanizing?” She told herself the women didn’t matter. He’d been some kind of rodeo star and she imagined that attracted all kinds of bimbos…women, she amended. What they did and who they slept with were none of her business, and it was not her place to judge. That wasn
’t who she was—at least it wasn’t before she’d gotten involved with a man who didn’t want to tell her his real name.
“Close. There was drinking and there was carousing and fists a flying.”
“You met your boss in a barroom brawl?” From what she’d heard about Ryan Sheppard, he wasn’t the barroom anything.
“I was so drunk I didn’t know or care who I was hitting. And in my defense he wasn’t my boss then.”
“Wow, paparazzi would have killed to see that.”
“Paparazzi want money and Ryan has plenty of it.”
“Why were you fighting?” She had to take a large step to keep her heel off a crack in the slate walkway.
“No doubt over something stupid. It wasn’t difficult to set me off back then. I left home the bad boy and I guess…” He looked away, as if embarrassed. “I guess I wanted live up to my reputation. Anyway, one minute I was holding off four drunks and the next I was in an SUV, this guy saying I should come work for him. When I sobered up, he explained who he was and that maybe I needed to get my act together before I… killed someone.”
“You were fighting four men? At the same time? And he was worried about you killing someone?”
He shrugged, once again meeting her eyes. “Wasn’t the first time. If my daddy taught me one thing, it was to keep your head down and practice a good right hook. Ryan convinced me there was a place for me in his organization and I hung up my buckle. Best decision of my life.”
They’d made their way back to the garden, now full of more guests. “Why’s that?” she asked.
“Because I was on a mission to self-destruct and didn’t know it. Working for Ryan I get to help people; my team, the people who search out ICU. My friends. Louis was the only friend, hell the only family, I had after I left home, but he died a few years before Ryan found me. Never even got to see me compete. Louis insisted I go to college first, just in case I landed on my head and couldn’t ride anymore.”
A waiter came by with a tray of stuffed mushrooms, and they both took one. “What did you study?” she asked after she’d thanked the young man.
“Veterinary medicine.”
She choked on the canapé and had to cough several times before dislodging the food.
Cowboy patted her back. “You okay?”
She nodded. “You’re a vet?”
“A Texas A&M graduate.” He pointed to a concrete bench by one of the rose bushes and they took a seat. “I never did my doctorate. Louis got sick and I wasn’t going to let whatever time I had left with him slip through my fingers. After he died I didn’t see a point in returning to school.”
She could. He’d have made great vet, and just because he got lucky and found a home with ICU didn’t mean his decision to become a rodeo champ had been a sound one. Then again, who was she to him to point that out? “But you couldn’t read those lab results.”
“I was a science major. Medical science came later.”
“Louis had cancer?” This was the most personal thing he’d told her about himself and it only nudged her to learn more.
“Lung. He’d been smoking since he was thirteen.”
“I’m sorry. I mean, him dying. And smoking. Nasty habit.” He’d sort of been orphaned twice in his lifetime. That couldn’t have been easy.
“Yeah, let’s forget about me and figure out how we’re going to get a look at what’s inside that barn.”
As much as she wanted to hear more, he was right. “You think it’s that important?”
“You didn’t notice the addition of the padlock?”
“No.” On the way down she’d fretted about that horse and on the way up wondered about the man who so piqued her curiosity, her skin itched.
“I have an idea, but I need you to cover me,” he said.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“This is a stupid idea.” Grace watched for passersby as Cowboy opened his trunk.
“No, it’s not.” Cowboy figured she wouldn’t be comfortable playing the cute card, but they didn’t have a choice. He pulled out the small backup drive and slipped it into his jacket pocket.
“What if you’re caught?”
“As long as you do your part, I won’t be.” He closed the trunk.
“I’m not some sex kitten. What if he doesn’t find me attractive?”
He guessed she hadn’t noticed the way the guard had smiled at her every time they passed through security. “Trust me, that’s not a problem.”
“What if more guests arrive?”
“Even better to distract him.” He handed her the slice of cheesecake they’d taken off the dessert table.
“This is stupid and a cliché and it won’t work.”
“We have nothing to lose. Look, those cameras haven’t been rolling that long. A few weeks at most. It won’t take a lot of time to download the data. This is Monty’s kickass backup. Come on.” He tugged her forward, going only so far so as to not alert the front security. “I’m going to leave you here. Give me three minutes and then go.”
“Is that enough time?”
“Plenty.” He planted a quick kiss on her mouth. “You can do this.” He left before she gave him another argument.
Cowboy circled as far around as he could, then after making certain no one was watching, he ducked behind a car. And that’s how he stayed, car to car, until he reached the outside of the security gate. There he waited for Grace to make her move. From this vantage point he spotted the guard reading the paper. The guardhouse was a ten by six building, with the upper half of each wall fitted with either windows or sliding panes. It had been installed after Stanton had made senator. A little over the top. But who knew who Lyle had pissed off to warrant additional security personnel.
“Hello.” Grace’s greeting carried to his hiding spot.
“Howdy, miss. Can I help?”
“Actually I thought I could help you. It’s a little…hmm, what’s the right word?” She paused, pretending to think. “Pretentious for me in there. I thought I could talk to a real person for a while.” She held out the plate.
From the size of the man’s belly, Cowboy had figured he’d like dessert.
“I don’t know. I don’t want to get in trouble.”
“It’s late. Most of the guests must have arrived by now. I can leave it for you if you want. I can always drink myself into smiling at all that hot air. Honestly, it’s a sweet sixteen, not a political rally.”
“I’m not allowed to let anyone in the guardhouse.”
That was a good thing.
“That’s okay. Grab a chair and come outside. It’s turning into a lovely evening.”
“You won’t tell anyone?” he asked.
Cowboy rolled his eyes.
“Of course not, silly.”
Silly? Who knew she had it in her.
“Okay.”
Cowboy waited for the guard to take two chairs outside onto the narrow strip of lawn, where he’d told Grace he needed them positioned. From there, he’d have enough cover to slip inside. When he heard Grace use their all clear—“How long have you been a security guard?”—he made his move.
Even though what he held in his hand was better and faster than anything on the market, it would take a little time to download the security camera’s hard drive. If the system had been running months, weeks even, he’d have to manually select the day he’d want to record. But as it stood there would be no issue with copying all the data. He accessed the back portal and plugged in the backup, held his breath, and waited, listening to Grace make small talk with the guard. Ten minutes later, the light on the backup finally turned green. He disconnected and slipped it back into his pocket. Hearing their conversation turn to pets, he snuck outside and behind the parked cars, headed back the same way he’d come.
At a safe distance, he peeked over the hood of a Lexus, then stood and returned to get Grace. As he got closer, he noticed her genuine interest in what the man was saying. Either that, or she was a great actress. But something tol
d him her smile was real as was the guard’s, who happily gobbled up the cheesecake. Grace laughed at something he said and it was then she noticed Cowboy’s approach. The smile she’d given the guard was nothing compared to the one she gave him. Was it just relief to see him and end her charade? He hoped not.
“Daniel,” she said, “come meet Arthur.”
Arthur immediately stood, worried he’d been caught slacking off.
“Hello, Arthur. Grace been talking your ear off?” He laughed, trying to put Arthur at ease.
“No, sir. She’s been real nice.”
“Oh I don’t doubt that. She’s a really nice lady. Are you ready to go, darling?”
“Are we leaving?” she asked, sounding hopeful.
Arthur chuckled to himself, then tried to cover it up with a cough.
“We should say our goodbyes first.” He took the empty plate from Arthur’s hand. “Let me return that for you,” he said, giving him a conspiratorial wink.
“Very nice talking to you, Arthur.”
Arthur nodded. “Pleasure was mine, miss.”
When it was finally safe she asked, “Did you get it?”
“Yup.” He opened the front door to the house, choosing to go through it instead of the longer way around.
“Should we go now?”
He was just as anxious to see what he’d captured as she, but—spotting who’d finally decided to make an appearance—they’d have to wait a little longer. “How are your feet holding up in those shoes? You’ll need to stand in them a little longer.”
“Why?” she asked, shaking her head politely at a waiter who’d offered her champagne.
“Because.” He nodded to the far right of the family room. “There’s someone you need to talk to.”
She followed his gaze, her eyebrows lifting when she hit her mark. “Mrs. Stanton.”
The woman had come out of hiding to greet her guests.
“What about the file?” she asked.