The Last Cowboy

by Pat Dale

  “Gee, thanks. I hope that didn’t put her off. I’m gonna have to sweet talk her out of this environment crap and I don’t need you throwing a monkey wrench into the works.”

  “No monkey wrenches. I just stirred the proverbial pot a little, that’s all. Look, I’m bushed. I gotta get some sleep. I have a feeling Rose Ingersoll isn’t going to go back on her death bed promise.”

  “Good night, Samantha.”

  She broke the connection and laid her head on the pillow, her mind playing over the options. Not so great for Troy Roberts but absolutely exhilarating for her. This could be really good if Troy thought he could turn on the charm and sweep Rose off her feet, just like old times.

  Time for Flanders’ great master of seduction to meet his match.

  That thought did nothing to enhance sleep.

  * * *

  Troy’s first waking thought was that he could turn to the local member of congress, Naomi Geiger. He’d contributed to her campaign and sponsored rallies in the area. Then he remembered her platform. Ms. Geiger claimed that environmentalism was equivalent to patriotism, which ranked right up there with Godliness. Many of the stars clamoring for his properties were among her biggest supporters.

  Maybe if he told one or two of them about the potential problem and explained the measures he had planned to mitigate the environmental damage, they’d come to his rescue. Maybe not.

  It was a sensitive issue. Environmental protection had taken on an aura and lots of the big Hollywood stars were jumping on the bandwagon. Rosemary’s friend Steve sounded like he had some of them in his back pocket though, which could prove to be a problem. Sam’s gonna twist things around so I look like the bad guy, no doubt about that.

  That brought his focus back to Samantha. What else will she do to undermine me? Something for sure. Well, I’m not going to wait to find out.

  The first step in beating Rose Ingersoll to the punch would be to get the loan approved at the bank. Then he could finalize the deal and get those development permits approved. Maybe that would take the wind out of her sails and discourage her. Maybe not.

  * * *

  Samantha was up at the crack of dawn, forsaking breakfast to get the weekend edition ready for the presses. She’d been hard at work for over two hours when Ozzie came in.

  “Morning, Samantha. You must have got up awfully early. Your mother is worried you’re missing too many meals.”

  “She wouldn’t think that if she’d seen the scale this morning, Dad. I’m up three pounds.”

  “And still slim as a boy,” he said. She muttered under her breath as he asked, “What has you off and running today?”

  “I’ve got a lot to do. I had to run out to Reed Springs yesterday. Remember?”

  “Yes I do. Can you give me a little hint about the deal you think will go south?”

  “Nope. Not until I know for sure.”

  He shuffled off to his office. She knew he wouldn’t give up until he’d wormed it out of her. Well, he can worm away all he wants. I’m not telling him until I’m ready.

  It was late in the afternoon and she’d stayed at her desk since coming in. No lunch after no breakfast meant she was ravenous. Ozzie interrupted her thoughts when he stepped into her office.

  “Time to head for home, Sam.”

  “I’m almost done, Dad. I’ll be there soon.”

  “Okay. Now don’t disappoint your mother tonight.”

  “I won’t.” She looked up and smiled. “I’m famished.”

  Minutes later, the phone rang. It was Missy.

  “Samantha? Wait ‘til you see the cute outfits I got today.”

  “I can hardly wait.”

  “Why don’t you come over tonight?”

  She was about to decline when she had a thought. Dying to share what she knew with someone, Missy would be perfect. “I’m going home for dinner. How about seven?”

  “Fine. See you then.”

  * * *

  Her Volvo crunched gravel in the Coward’s drive at five past seven. Missy waited impatiently at the top of the steps. “Hi, Samantha. They’ve got the neatest sales going on in Branson. Wait’ ll you see.”

  “As they say, Missy, if you can’t find it in Branson, you can’t find it.”

  “Well, they’ve got that right. Come on up.”

  She followed Missy up to her bedroom. Actually, her bedroom suite. The Cowards were the wealthiest family in Flanders and the house reflected that.

  Trailing her friend into the huge walk-in closet, she dropped into one of two easy chairs in the elongated room. Missy pulled out one pastel dress after another until she’d laid six of them across Samantha’s lap in a rainbow of soft colours.

  “What do you think?”

  “They’re all lovely and they’ll all look great on you. I think I like the lavender one the best. Or, maybe the pink.”

  “Me, too.” Missy hung the dresses back into place and sat in the other chair. “So tell me, what’s the story you’re on?”

  “What makes you think I’m on a story?”

  “The glow in your eyes. You don’t get that bright-eyed bushy-tailed look unless something exciting is cooking.”

  “Well, you’re right.” She laughed. “Oh, this is so cool. Troy has got hold of something even he can’t get out of this time.”

  Missy’s eyes reflected a hint of mystery but whatever it was, it evaporated. “He’s in trouble?”

  “Not trouble, exactly. He’s buying a huge land parcel to develop for the Branson elite. The thing is, an environmental group got wind of it and he might not be able to develop it. Better yet, the representative is Rosemary Silcox, except she’s Rose Ingersoll now. It looked like she had Troy’s number, his charm was just bouncing off her. Isn’t that sweet?”

  “The Rosemary Silcox? Of senior prom fame? Cause of the break-up of the century? Holy cats! What exactly is Troy wanting to do with the land, what’s he planning on building?”

  “Sure. Troy wants to develop private tracts for all those country entertainers. But, Rose and her late husband’s environmental foundation want to stop it because it’s adjacent to the conservation area. She claims they have reams of data to back up their claims and this Steve who is supposed to be showing up any time now has some connections with Hollywood stars who are big into this kind of thing. Looks like Troy might have bitten off more than he can chew.”

  “Oh... Oh! And this Rose Ingersoll is really Rosemary Silcox? Wow. Is she still as dumpy as she was in high school?”

  “Not hardly. She could be a fashion model. She’s changed the colour of her hair and eyes and lost a lot of weight. You won’t recognize her when you see her.”

  “Troy’s hormones have him panting after her, I take it.?”

  “Bigtime. Only, he knows she could blow his investment to hell so he has to be really careful. I’m not sure how close she is with this Steve guy, might be more than a professional relationship, I don’t know. It was hard to tell from the little bit she talked about him.”

  Missy’s look was far away when she smiled softly. “This could be what finally knocks Troy off his high perch.”

  “I’d say. So now you know why I’m bright-eyed.”

  “Yeah.”

  They spent two hours trying dresses on. Nearly identical in size since middle school, it was something they did often.

  Before leaving, Samantha said, “Promise you won’t tell what I told you.”

  “I promise. You know me, Samantha. Not a word to a soul.”

  “Right. I’ll let you know when the rubber hits the road.”

  “Or when the stuff hits the fan?”

  “That, too.”

  * * *

  Sam drove home still chortling gleefully. Once home she retreated to her bedroom, but was too wound up to sleep. Instead she decided to indulge in her secret vice, well not a vice really. More like a secret ambition. Plots for romance novels were constantly running through her mind and tonight a new plot had surface and she needed
to get it down before it eluded her. She went to her dresser and pulled out the locked journal she kept there. Rather than use her laptop, Sam preferred the feel of pen on paper when she was creating her regency romances.

  She favoured long dreamy will-o-the-wisp fantasies woven about strong-willed heroes who someday would come and rescue her from the dungeon where she languished. Oddly, the heroes always bore an uncanny resemblance to Troy Roberts.

  She lifted her pen to the page and began to write.

  * * *

  Saturday was usually a day she reserved for herself, but today she’d gone by the paper to ensure that the presses were rolling out Sunday’s edition with no hitches. Only sixteen pages in its entirety it wasn’t much. But Flanders was one of the few small Missouri towns that bragged a Sunday edition of any kind and the residents were proud of it.

  She was on the way to her car when a voice hailed her. The woman wasn’t smiling. “Sam Turner, I need to speak to you,” Rose called.

  “Morning, Rose. Did you want anything in particular?”

  “Yes. How much do you know about what Troy has planned? Will the development denude the hillsides of trees? What about contamination of the streams that flow through there? Fish habitat is being lost every year across the country and there are some very fragile species that call that area home. I can’t find anything in the development permits about environmental concerns.”

  “I thought he would have shared that with you himself. I really don’t know anything more than you do.”

  “Oh? Well, okay. Maybe when Steve gets here we can get together and see if there’s a solution to this that doesn’t involve a court date. It was pretty funny when he realized who I was.”

  “It was, wasn’t it? I’m actually surprised he didn’t know you, I mean you two were pretty close the last bit of high school.”

  Rose frowned at her for a minute. “We weren’t that close. I mean, we spent a bit of time together during the summer before I left, but…well, I wouldn’t say we were close. Anyway, old friendships aren’t going to stop me keeping my promise to George, you know.”

  “Why should it?”

  “It shouldn’t and it won’t. I need to know something else. How influential is Troy in Flanders?”

  “Politically?”

  “Yes. And financially.”

  What do I tell her? The truth? Or do I cover for Troy? No way I’ll do that.

  “Politically, he has friends. I’m not sure how effective they’ll be in opposing you. Financially, he’s not in any trouble that I know of, but he doesn’t have endless funds, either. Does that help?”

  “Yes. I think so.” Rose looked ready to do battle. There was a challenging light in her eye. Sam couldn’t help but notice how well she looked dressed only in blue jeans and an oversize flannel shirt. Damn, how could she look gorgeous without even trying?

  If she’s dressed for battle, I’m curious to see what kind of war she’ll fight

  Chapter Three

  Troy came out of the bank smiling, pleased that his banker hadn’t heard the rumours about the court injunction. He’d leveraged assets to manage the loan, but three sales from the new project would balance that and he had at least six clients lined up he could count on. He’d stepped off the walk and started across the street when he noticed Samantha talking to Rose in front of the Herald.

  Uh-oh. Don’t want to get stuck talking to those two.

  Sam said something to Rose and turned away, leaving the redhead standing there. Troy saw his chance and headed for his car. He’d almost made it before Rose spied him and waved. She didn’t look angry.

  He approached cautiously. “Morning, Rose.”

  “Hello, Troy. Been to the bank this morning?”

  “Uh, yeah. Just routine stuff, nothing important.”

  “I really should go in and say hi to Mr. Scott. He’s still the manager here, isn’t he? My dad and him still go fishing together.” A positively evil smile crossed her face.

  “He has a very busy morning, I think. Someone was waiting right behind me when I left.” Troy fiddled with his key chain.

  “Well, maybe I’ll see him at dinner. He usually drops by at least once a week. It should be an interesting conversation, don’t you think? Does he know about the federation’s injunction against your development?”

  “Look, Rosemary, I mean Rose. I’d really appreciate if you’d keep quiet about that. There’s no need for him to have to deal with that when I know you and I can work this out between us. The last thing I wanted was to get the two of us into an argument.”

  “Well, we’re in one now.”

  “So it seems.” He paused to give her a gentle smile. “Isn’t getting us anywhere, is it?”

  “Not really. Do I take it, then, that you’re waving the white flag at the moment?”

  “Yes. Now, can I buy you a cup of coffee while we discuss our differences?”

  “Yes. I think that would be nice. A step in the right direction, at least. For old time’s sake.” Her eyes twinkled and Troy saw the old Rosemary grinning at him.

  * * *

  Sam watched in disbelief as the pair headed down the sidewalk toward the bakery. She slapped the steering wheel of her car in frustration. The anticipated delight of seeing Rose rip into Troy faded making her grit her teeth. Why were they being so buddy-buddy?

  When Troy and Aggie disappeared into the bakery, Sam drove away slowly, dying to know when or if any fireworks would begin. Rose had a temper and Sam knew firsthand about Troy’s penchant for verbal pyrotechnics. She was about to turn back to spy on them when Missy hailed her from the sidewalk. She stopped and her friend slid into the passenger seat.

  “Hi, Missy.”

  “What’s happening?”

  “Rose and Troy are in the bakery.”

  “Fighting?”

  “I don’t think so. Not yet.”

  “Wow. You think Troy’s charm has won her over again?”

  “Lord, I hope not. I hope Rose is drawing him out, looking for his Achilles heel. She’ll find it and when she does, I’d hate to be Troy Roberts.”

  “Yeah.” The look on Missy’s face showed she still didn’t appreciate the full import of the situation.

  “I don’t suppose you’d like to do a little spying for me, would you?”

  “I’m not much good at that kind of stuff.”

  “You don’t have to be. Just go in for a cup of coffee and sit as close to them as you can. Then listen to what they’re saying. I’d do it, but they’d clam up the minute they saw me.”

  “Well, I guess I can do that, but I have to hurry. I’ve got a date tonight and I need time to get ready.”

  Feminine curiosity kicked in. Samantha asked, “A date? Who’s the lucky guy?”

  “Tom Fairfield.”

  “You mean that old bookworm from high school? I didn’t think he-”

  “He lives in Branson now. Owns a bookstore.”

  “That’s logical for a guy like Tom. Well, you should have plenty of time.”

  “Yeah. I’ll do it. This should be interesting to say the least.” Missy got out and headed for the bakery.

  * * *

  Troy and Rose settled down with coffee and cinnamon rolls. Rose finished her first one, licked her fingers and began on another. Troy sipped his coffee and grinned at her.

  “Good, aren’t they, Rose?”

  “Fabulous. I’ve hardly eaten for three days. Sorry if I’m making a pig of myself.”

  “No worries.” His gaze fixed on her tongue licking those long slender fingers eyes. “I remember you used to love those things back in the old days. Besides a healthy appetite is a good sign.”

  “A good sign of what?”

  “That all systems are go,” he replied, giving her a roguish smile.

  Rose raised her eyebrows and shrugged. “Umm.” She swallowed the last bite and wiped the corners of her mouth. “That was yummy. Now, where were we?”

  “Agreeing to disagree, I think.” He
pulled his eyes away from her lips. Focus, Troy. Focus.

  “Oh. Well, I understand your need to make money, Troy. I really do. But you have to understand my need to protect the endangered species and the at risk environment. That’s my job. And my passion.”

  “I can think of much better uses for your passion, Rose.”

  “Come off it, Troy. You’re not going to seduce me into walking away from this fight. You should know me better than that.”

  He grimaced and sighed. “Fine.”

  “That’s better.”

  “There really aren’t any endangered species being threatened, Rose.” He paused to watch Missy take a seat near them. “For God’s sake, that conservation area is almost six thousand acres. Six thousand! I’m only talking about two thousand acres and a lot of it will stay pristine. I have plans…”

  “Plans? Huh, I just bet you do. Plans to strip the hills and build God awful looking monstrosities for people with more money than brains.” Rose snorted through her nose and took a sip of coffee before glaring at him.

  “Quit being so dramatic. It’s not like I’m planning to clear cut the area.”

  Rose’s eyes narrowed. “So, you’re not planning to cut roads through the woods or pollute the silence with big machines and trucks roaring around? Not to mention the light pollution that wil result from your development. Lights for tennis courts and pools and street lights, for heaven’s sake.”

  Oh, no. An image of Rose chaining herself to one of the big trees along with her crazed colleagues formed in his mind. Shit, wouldn’t Sam just love to put that on the front page of the Flanders Herald?

  “You’re mistaken about that Rose, I have no intention of polluting the silence or the dark sky.”

  “What are your plans to avoid that? If you can supply us with a copy of your environmental studies of the area along with an outline of your plans to mitigate the damage the federation would be happy to take a look and weigh in with our opinions and possible objections..”