Angel Kisses

by Verna Clay

  Angel said, "Well, that's the tour. Do you have any questions about your lodging?"

  "No. I think you've covered all the bases and the RV is lovely."

  "I think so, too. I've certainly enjoyed staying here. Now I'll give you a tour of the grounds. Basically, once you've attended a few rodeos, it's easy to understand the layout."

  "I take it you've attended a few."

  Angel laughed. "Oh, yeah. I was raised on a ranch in Colorado and went to at least half a dozen every year. In fact, one of my parents' closest friends is Dirk Branigan. Back in the day he won the gold buckle at the NFR competition in Las Vegas for PRCA's All-Around Cowboy. He's kind of a legend. Just like Harris is becoming a legend."

  "So how did you meet Harris?"

  "Our parents are friends. In fact, I know all his brothers and a sister. His brother Eli is my age and our families get together often."

  Lucinda tucked that piece of information to the back of her mind. Later, she would enter it into her laptop. Early on, she had learned that one could never have too much information. Some of the least likely tidbits could prove to be invaluable.

  Angel opened the door and joked, "Let's go see what kind of trouble we can get into."

  Although Lucinda's first impression of Angel hadn't been favorable because she'd lumped her into the "dumb blond" and "Barbie doll" category, she was starting to like the woman. She was articulate and sweet, and now she was showing a sense of humor.

  For the next hour Lucinda followed Angel around the grounds and was introduced to rodeo workers and competitors preparing for the event the next day. When Angel introduced her as a reporter, she could often see the wheels turning in the competitors' eyes. Just like any sport, they wanted to get their names out to the public.

  After exchanging pleasantries with the reigning NFR steer wrestling champion, Angel said after he left, "Harris and Eli should be around somewhere. They had errands to run in town, but they're probably back by now. I'll give Eli a call and get their location."

  "Sounds great, but I need to make a pit stop at the restroom before meeting them."

  Angel pointed. "There's a bathroom over there."

  "Thanks." Lucinda rushed in that direction. She had been holding her bladder for twenty minutes and it felt like it would burst. When she couldn't locate the restroom, she did a quick turnaround to retrace her steps, but from out of nowhere a tall cowboy rammed into her. Her glasses went flying and she almost peed her pants. In frustration, she chastised, "Are you blind!"

  Because the world was blurry without her glasses, she went down on her knees to pat the ground for them. To the blur now squatting beside her she exclaimed, "Help me find my glasses! If they're broken I'm holding you responsible!"

  A deep voice said, "Ma'am, I've been called a klutz more than once and I'm right sorry for running into you. As for your glasses, I've got them."

  Still on her knees, she squinted to make out the figure beside her. All she could see was a blurry arm reaching toward her. Gentle hands placed the glasses over her eyes, but she pushed the hands away to adjust the damn things herself. Finally, she focused on the man who had caused the trouble in the first place.

  Dumbfounded, she stared into the darkest brown eyes she'd ever seen, set in the handsomest face she'd ever gazed upon, and realized her rude remarks had been directed at Harris Brightman!

  Chapter 8: Confrontation

  Harris stared into the eyes of the petite woman he'd just collided with. As she focused on his face, he watched her eyes widen and her face pale. Under her breath he heard her whisper, "Oh, shit!"

  He often got strange reactions when people recognized him, so he took it in stride. As he helped the lady to her feet he said, "Hey, I'm really sorry about that. It was entirely my fault because my mind was a million miles–"

  "There you are," he heard Angel calling. He glanced up to see Eli and Angel walking toward him. Glancing back at the woman who looked out of place at a rodeo with her spiky black hair and perfectly creased slacks, he noticed she was even paler and looked about to faint. Ignoring Angel and Eli, he placed his hands on her shoulders. "Ma'am, are you all right? Should I call a doctor?"

  The woman shook her head.

  Angel walked to stand beside them. "Harris, I see you've met Lucinda, the reporter traveling with us for the next few weeks doing an exclusive on you."

  Harris jerked his gaze back to Lucinda's and saw her grimace. He almost laughed because he imagined how she felt. Instead, he grinned and said, "Is that so?" She barely nodded and his grin widened.

  Angel was now introducing Eli to Lucinda. She paused in her introduction and asked, "Lucinda, are you feeling okay? You're very pale."

  The reporter finally found her voice and croaked, "Yes, I'm fine."

  Angel said with concern, "Nevertheless, you've traveled a long way." She returned her attention to Harris and Eli. "Why don't you boys excuse us for a couple of hours?"

  Harris replied, "Sure. How about we meet up with you ladies at your RV at five and then have supper at the Longhorn Saloon. We can get acquainted with Lucinda then."

  Eli agreed, "Sounds like a plan. I'll call and make reservations."

  As Harris watched the womenfolk walk toward the RV area, Eli said, "What the heck was that all about? The gal looked like she wanted to run for the hills. What did you do to scare her?"

  Sighing, Harris said, "I almost flattened her and her glasses went flying. Seems she can't see much without them." He smiled. "And she has a short fuse. She chewed my ass out for being so clumsy. After I put her glasses back on her, she recognized me and almost fainted. I guess she figured it's not a good idea to roast your assignment."

  Eli chuckled. "Well, with that kind of introduction, this next month or so should prove interesting." He patted his brother's shoulder. "Just eat crow and maybe she'll write something nice about you." Eli started walking away and called over his shoulder, "And maybe not."

  Harris didn't retort. His mind was already contemplating the situation that had made him so inattentive in the first place—his birthfather.

  Rather than enter the hubbub of activity on the rodeo grounds, he walked to the outskirts and plopped down behind an old oak, leaning against the gnarly trunk. He grabbed a blade of grass and stuck it in his mouth. If he were a cowboy from the 1800s, he'd be rolling a smoke right now.

  You're a damn coward, Harris, he chastised himself. A week ago when the bartender had pointed out Lucky Larry mopping the hallway, he'd stared at the pathetic man before slamming a ten spot on the counter and rushing out the door.

  Now, listening to the hum of activity behind him and watching a bluebird forage for seeds in the weeds, he closed his eyes and felt the sting of tears. His birthfather, the man he'd always wondered about, was a recovering alcoholic who mopped floors for a living. In his mind, Harris had painted him as a wrangler working on a ranch somewhere after his sudden departure from the rodeo circuit. He'd done internet searches when he was a teenager, but the man seemed to have dropped off the face of the earth. That's when Harris had romanticized an image of him and overlooked the online mentions that had been less than flattering. But maybe that's why he'd stopped searching. He was afraid of what he'd find out.

  But now he knew the truth.

  Harris placed his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. The biggest question now was what to do—confront the man who had denied his paternity or just leave things be? If he confronted him, maybe he could get answers to questions that had plagued him all his life. But what if the answers only made him feel worse? Maybe it was better to let sleeping dogs lie. Hell, he'd had a wonderful upbringing by a man who'd treated him like his own son—a man who would do anything for him.

  Harris lifted his head, reached for some pebbles and mindlessly tossed them. Finally, resolved, he frowned because he knew what he would do. Deep in his heart he'd known since rushing from the bar. He would drive the half hour back to Stephenville and confront Lucky Larry.

  C
hapter 9: Misunderstood

  Angel was confused by Lucinda's behavior. She didn't seem the type to go gaga over a well-known personality or become a groupie. In fact, she'd seemed almost bored by the whole idea of an exclusive with Harris. But then, Harris was exceptionally handsome and charismatic. Who was Angel to judge? The very purpose of her being there was to eventually confront him about her feelings for him. She sighed and glanced at Lucinda's bedroom door. As soon as they had entered the RV the reporter had excused herself and disappeared inside.

  The ringing of Angel's cell phone startled her. She glanced at the ID. "Hi, Eli."

  "Hi, Angel. Is Lucinda nearby?"

  "No. Why?"

  "Did she tell you what happened between her and Harris?"

  The question captured all of Angel's attention. "Nooo."

  Eli chuckled. "Just so you know what's going on, here's the scoop." He laughed and said, "Scoop. Reporter. Get it?"

  Angel grinned. "Stop being silly and tell me what happened."

  He then proceeded to fill her in on the confrontation between Lucinda and Harris. Finally, Angel said, "Oh, she must feel terrible. I'll tell her Harris won't hold it against her or even give it another thought."

  "Good. That's why I wanted to clue you in. The gal shouldn't feel like she has to walk on eggshells."

  "I agree."

  "One more thing."

  "Yeah?"

  "Does Harris seem a little off? I noticed it after the Stephenville rodeo, but whenever I ask if something's wrong, he just blows it off."

  "I haven't noticed anything, but maybe he's more unguarded around you. Perhaps he's nervous about tomorrow's ride, although that doesn't seem likely."

  "Maybe." He paused as if considering the possibility, and then said, "I'll see you at five. Bye."

  "Bye." Angel disconnected and was surprised when she found herself thinking about how great it was working with Eli, rather than being concerned about Harris. She knocked on Lucinda's door. A moment later the reporter cracked her door open.

  Angel wasn't sure how to begin so she just blurted, "Eli called and said Harris told him about your encounter."

  Lucinda paled. "Does he want me to leave?"

  Angel said, "Goodness no. In fact, he just blew the incident off. Eli wants you to know that Harris didn't think anything about it."

  "Really. I was terribly rude."

  Angel smiled. "What you don't understand is that Harris isn't your typical 'star'." She made quote marks with her fingers. "He's a really nice guy and I guarantee that your encounter won't affect his cooperation with you."

  Lucinda released a long breath. "You don't know how much that means to me." She hesitated and then confided, "You see, I've only been with the Seattle Daily for a few months as an investigative reporter—not that Harris is being investigated—but my editor thought it would be a great piece. I know he's testing me with subpar assignments–" She gasped. "I didn't mean that Harris is subpar." She blushed and continued, "It's just that I want to get my teeth into something meaty and…" her voice trailed and then she said, "Anyway, if I blow this, it could blow my job."

  At first, Angel had listened to Lucinda's revelation with compassion, and then irritation. When the woman stopped speaking, she replied, "I assure you Harris isn't subpar. In fact, your report on such an awesome person could catapult your career. Harris is a unique man that has allowed you access into his privacy, which he cherishes. I don't think you have a clue as to how talented he is, how many charities he supports, how much good he does, and how in demand he is. He–"

  Lucinda interrupted. "See, now I've offended you. I'm really sorry."

  Unexpectedly, something in Lucinda's eyes touched Angel's heart and she said, "You've been misunderstood all your life, haven't you?"

  Lucinda sank onto her bed with a disheartened expression. "Yes. How did you know?"

  Angel sat beside her. "Because the same is true for me."

  Chapter 10: Dance

  Dinner at the Longhorn Saloon and Steakhouse proved to be a respite from the frozen dinners Lucinda often prepared for herself. And the fact that Harris seemingly held no grudge against her brightened her spirit. Because Harris, Eli, and Angel shared a common upbringing they were easy to be around and related funny remembrances that had Lucinda laughing often. She couldn't remember the last time she'd spent such a pleasant evening.

  From across the room a pretty cowgirl approached Harris and asked for his autograph and he was gracious and charming to her. When Lucinda had received her new assignment, she had formed a stereotypical belief about rodeo stars being arrogant skirt chasers. But so far, Harris had proven to be just the opposite. Although friendly to the cowgirl, he didn't offer suggestive remarks or innuendos. And later, when a band started playing in the bar, the woman returned to ask him to dance. Lucinda watched the interaction with interest and almost gasped when Harris said, "Darlin', I'm sorry, but all my dances have been promised to this li'l lady." He motioned toward Lucinda.

  Suddenly, Lucinda felt the need to clean her glasses; anything to distract herself from the sudden pounding of her heart and ensuing confusion. Harris' refusal to dance with the woman made no sense. She was tall, curvy, really pretty, and personable. The cowgirl glanced at Lucinda and smiled. She said, "Lucky lady," before returning to the elderly couple seated at her table.

  Lucinda replaced her glasses and her eyes widened when Harris stood, held out his hand, and said, "Now, how about that dance?"

  Dumbfounded, she stuttered, "Ah, I-I don't know how to western dance."

  Harris' chocolate eyes twinkled. "Then it's about time you learned. I promise it's as easy as sliding off a greased horse."

  Lucinda couldn't think of a nice way to refuse. She glanced at Angel and saw something so fleeting, she wondered if she'd imagined it. Was Angel envious or even jealous? She dismissed the thought. Angel was so stunningly beautiful and awesomely sweet, that she could have any man she wanted. And if she wanted Harris, surely it was a given she'd have him. No man could reject Angel. Lucinda placed her hand in Harris' and followed him to the dance floor, reasoning that it would be an excellent opportunity to apologize for her earlier behavior.

  The band finished their song and the front man said, "Now let's slow things way down with this oldie but goodie, Rose of my Heart, by Johnny Cash." Harris paused on the outskirts of the dancers and placed his hands on Lucinda's waist. She glanced up into his beautiful eyes and her knees went weak. He was gorgeous. Lowering her gaze, she cleared her throat, pushed her eyeglasses higher on her nose, placed her hands lightly on his shoulders, fortified her courage, and said, "I want to apologize for my rude remarks this afternoon. There was no excuse–"

  Harris interrupted. "You have the longest and thickest eyelashes I've ever seen. Does the trait run in your family?"

  Lucinda was speechless. Never had she imagined she'd hear such a remark from Harris Brightman. Her response was, "Ah, yes. My mother has the same problem."

  "Problem?" Harris chuckled low. "I've never heard of beautiful eyelashes being a problem."

  "It is when you wear glasses."

  Harris only said, "Hmm." A few seconds later he said, "Your apology about this afternoon is accepted, but like I told you at the time, it was my fault."

  "But–"

  He interrupted again, "No more apologies. In fact, let's not talk about it ever again."

  Although Harris held Lucinda at a comfortable distance, she could feel his body heat consuming her. And when she had a sudden desire to step into that heat, she stiffened.

  Harris paused in dancing to ask, "Do you want to keep rehashing today?"

  Realizing that he had misunderstood her response, she quickly replied, "No. Not at all." To explain herself she continued, "I'm just not used to dancing and I'm sure you could find a better partner."

  Harris laughed softly and pulled her into the heat that was driving her crazy. "No. I don't eat dinner with one woman and dance with another. And your dancing is just fine."<
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  The song ended and when the drummer played a roll for the next one, the singer called out, "Ladies and gents, it's time for the C.C. Shuffle." He motioned to his female backup singer and grinned. "Maggie, how about some Shania Twain?"

  The pretty, red-headed cowgirl dressed in a fringed and glittery jacket, stepped forward with her microphone and said huskily, "I got this boyfriend who keeps tellin' me he ain't no quitter. So I'm dedicating this song to him."

  The crowd whooped when the music started and Maggie began singing. Lucinda stepped back, expecting they would return to their table, but Harris clasped her hand and said, "This is one of my favorite songs and dances." He then led her to the end of the line of dancers and said, "Here's how it's done."

  By the time Maggie got to the chorus and sang, "I Ain't No Quitter," Lucinda was laughing as she tried to follow the dance steps.

  Angel sipped her third glass of wine and drew doodles on the tablecloth. Beside her, Eli placed his fork and knife across his plate and sighed. "That steak was incredible. How was yours?"

  "It was delicious." She didn't elaborate. Her mind was on Harris and Lucinda. In the four weeks she'd been working with Harris, this was the first time he'd seemed intrigued by a woman. He was always polite and endearing when approached by the ladies, some obviously pursuing him, but he never appeared overly interested. Maybe he'd asked Lucinda to dance because she was writing an article on him and he didn't want to muddy the waters after today's debacle. Maybe he was playing a game with her. Immediately, Angel rejected that thought. Harris never toyed with women's emotions. She glanced up to see Eli watching her. He said, "Angel, will you dance with me?"

  "Of course." Whether she accepted his invitation because she wanted to keep an eye on Harris and Lucinda, or just because she enjoyed dancing, she wasn't quite sure. Maybe it was because she was feeling tipsy from the wine. She reached for her wineglass and downed the rest of it.