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The Bride Wore Starlight

Page 18

by Lizbeth Selvig


  “You go to some fanatical revival meeting and get religion?” Alec asked. “Since when are you a soft old bleeding heart?”

  “How can you ask that?” Vince looked wounded, and then grinned. “I was always the animals’ best friend.”

  “Uh-huh. Ain’t saying you were mean, you weren’t. But they were tools of the trade. Keep ’em healthy. Treat ’em fair. That was how you saw it back in the day. You laughed at those of us who carried apples in our pockets.”

  “Maybe that’s why,” Vince said. “Maybe I realized I wouldn’t be where I am without the people who raised good stock. And without the stock itself. Some of us take longer to mature than others.”

  “Sounds like it had more to do with a woman than with comin’ to Jesus on the back of a bull.”

  “Now there I’d have to agree. And speaking of women.” Vince finally looked fully at Joely, and his wide grin got wider. “Who have we here? You’re brave to be traveling with the likes of this one.”

  “I am,” she agreed, leaning on her crutches and extending a hand. “Joely Fos—Crockett.”

  “Crockett?”

  “As in Paradise Ranch, yes.” Might as well get it right out there. “I don’t live there, but my sisters and mother do.”

  “Can’t live around here and not know about Paradise Ranch,” Vince said. “And it’s still a working operation, I hear.”

  “Very much so.”

  “Love to see it sometime,” he said. “I hear it’s a beautiful place—right on the river.”

  “I’m sure you could visit any time,” Joely said.

  “That’s very nice of you. It’s good to meet you, Miss Joely Crockett.”

  “Same here, Vince.”

  “All right. All right. Old home week is over,” Alec said. “What exactly is it I’m doing here? I could have scanned and e-mailed you the pictures you want. You could have sent me a picture of the horse in return. But you insisted, so I’m here. Start pitching so I can blow you off.”

  Vince waggled his brows at Joely. “Such a mistrustful young man,” he said. “Come on, I’ll explain. But first I have an old friend for you to meet.”

  THE HORSE GRAZED in a large, grassy paddock outside the barn. Even though there were five other horses sharing his pasture space, Ghost Pepper stood out like diamond in a pile of iron ore. He popped his head up when the three humans approached the fence, and Joely caught her breath.

  His roan hair coat glistened with a blue almost like fire in the sunlight. Even more striking, however, were the vivid gray spots dappling his rump, the charcoal stockings on his legs, and the dark cheeks and muzzle that left him a wide white blaze down his face.

  “Hello, handsome.” Her voice came out in breathy awe.

  “He’s a stunner, isn’t he?” Vince said.

  “His pictures don’t do him justice.”

  “Hard to believe lookin’ at him he’s pretty much the Secretariat of bucking horses.” Vince leaned on the fence. “You could put a baby under him out there and he’d darn near move around to keep the rain off of her. Put her on his back . . . ” He trailed off.

  The horse was built like a brick house. He wasn’t a lot more than fifteen hands, but his muscled chest and forearms and powerful haunches put him less in the category of Secretariat and more in the horsy equivalent of a twenty-year-old Arnold Schwarzenegger. For the second time in as many days, Joely went gooey-hearted for a big animal. She thought briefly of the horse she’d lost in the accident, but Ghost Pepper was so different from Penny it almost wasn’t like looking at the same animal species.

  “Can I buy him, Dad?” She whispered to Alec and turned to him for the first time.

  He stood five feet back from the fence, his hands at his sides, his eyes fixed on the horse. Whatever emotions roiled within him she couldn’t read, but she could definitely see their intensity in his locked shoulders and curled fingers.

  “Oh, I don’t think so today, honey.” His brows lifted knowingly. “Told you you’d ask.”

  “I’m not ashamed. Any horse lover would ask. You have to admit he’s gorgeous.”

  Alec flexed his fingers. His eyes hardened into haunted steel. “He knows it’s me.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Joely said.

  “Oh, I had enough conversations with this bad boy over the years. I don’t doubt for one second he’s laughing at how we’ve ended up.”

  “Then you need to turn it around and get the last laugh, my friend,” Vince said. “I have the perfect proposition for you.”

  Alec unfroze and turned a flint-hard gaze on his friend. “Yeah, you told me about your pet publicity stunt, and I told you where you could put that idea.”

  Vince grinned. “But now you have to listen without that kind of language since we’re standing in front of a beautiful woman.”

  “Language or no, I’m not saying yes.”

  “What’s this great idea?” Joely asked.

  “He needs to get back on this beast,” Vince said. “Can you imagine the crowd at the show where that happened? They’d come all the way from Texas, Calgary, and Maine to see Morrissey and Ghost Pepper reunited. Especially given our man’s handicap now.”

  “Wait.” Joely frowned and sought Alec’s eyes. They betrayed nothing but hard heat. “You’d capitalize on his service injury?”

  “Dang right,” Vince said, no apology to be seen anywhere in his face. “Rodeo needs a hero. What better than two old adversaries, one an ornery victor, one a newly hardened war veteran who doesn’t let adversity stop him? It’s pure gold.”

  “It’s pure fantasy.” Alec smiled, cocky in his answer, clearly certain his friend could talk all day and not move him.

  “Wouldn’t that be a little insensitive?” Joely insisted.

  “No more than the guy on TV who danced,” Vince said.

  “Doesn’t matter. Be as insensitive as you like.” Alec shrugged. “It isn’t going any further than right here.”

  “Could you ride him?” Joely asked.

  “Nope. I told you. There are certain motions, gripping movements, and other things even the best prosthetic won’t do. I’ve never had a death wish.”

  “You wouldn’t die, you idiot,” Vince said. “You’d fall on your ass and the whole place would cheer itself hoarse. No pun intended. It wouldn’t matter if you stayed on half a second or all eight—you’d be a hero for just showing up.”

  “I don’t want to be anybody’s hero, Vince. Do you understand?” For the first time since arriving at the Bucking V, Alec allowed true anger to show. He jabbed his finger toward his old friend’s face and glared.

  Vince wasn’t fazed. He spoke nonchalantly as Alec turned away from him.

  “Okay, okay. I knew that would be a tough sell. Then how about simply showing up? A couple of times. No riding. Just tip your hat. Hell, tip Buzz’s hat and let’s do a tribute. Then introduce the younger generation taking your place and let old GP there do his thing.”

  Alec spun back so quickly on Vince that Joely gasped. He poked his finger physically into Vince’s chest and balled the opposite hand’s fist.

  “Don’t you bring Buzz into this. He rests in peace, got it? And I gave you permission to use an old picture of me—but I’d better not see Buzz’s image anywhere. I’ll cripple you, Vince. I swear.”

  “Hey.” Joely put her hand on Alec’s chest. “I don’t know anything about this, but no need to get violent. I didn’t come with you to watch two cowboys get into a fistfight.”

  “Not your business, Joely,” Alec said.

  “It is if you get your butt kicked and I have to hitch-hike home.”

  He turned to her and stared. She gave him a beatific smile, and he rolled his eyes. “You’re insane,” he said.

  “You’ve got it backward. I’m the sane one.”

  Vince laughed. He grabbed Alec around the back of the neck and dragged his head forward until their foreheads met. Then he slapped his cheek as he’d done before.

  “I know yo
u’re not over Buzz, man. I’m not either. But this was his life, and all I’m saying is it doesn’t hurt to remind people that he’s a hero, too. You both are. Fine, we don’t have to do anything. I’m just looking for a little rodeo love. When I found Ghost Pepper there was only one person who came to mind.”

  Oh, he was good, Joely thought. Very, very good. And yet his eyes shone enough to convince her he was also sincere.

  “Snake oil salesman,” Alec mumbled, and cuffed him on the cheek, too.

  They pulled apart. To Joely’s surprise, Alec smiled sheepishly at her and reached for her hand. He tugged carefully and she stepped with equal care into an embrace, moving her crutches out of the way. He wrapped an arm around her waist and kissed her forehead. “Thanks,” he said.

  She transferred her weight in to his hold and leaned against his long, muscular frame. Every nerve fiber in her body cheered with excitement at the contact, and she clung to him, not wanting to let go.

  “Come on inside,” Vince said. “I’ll show you what I’ve been thinking about. You can say yes or no after you’ve looked at the mock up.”

  “It’ll still be no,” Alec said.

  “Don’t be a curmudgeon.” Joely squeezed his middle as if she had an actual right to advise him. Touching him was heady, but the truth was she didn’t even have the right to stay in his embrace. Still, he didn’t let her go either. Instead, he followed Vince and let her hobble beside him the way he’d done on the church steps at the wedding two weeks before, and she couldn’t help thinking how nice it was to have him take the crutches from her and carry them through the barn to the house.

  Wendy Newton was a former buckle bunny, or so Joely had been told, and a tiny vestige of that personality remained. She had sunny, open facial features and a flirty friendliness that drew people in to her personal circle, even though she carried herself with the genuine naturalness of a woman who’d found her bliss. Alec and Joely were greeted like old friends and plied with lemonade and cookies while they looked through the photos Alec had brought.

  “These are fantastic.” Vince tapped on two pictures he’d chosen. I’d like to borrow them and bring them into Jackson, see if the resolution is high enough to use for posters. That okay?”

  “Sure. Fine.” Alec pushed the pictures to him, and Vince handed him a mocked-up show bill.

  Jackson Hole Rodeo: Your summer rodeo nights are about to heat up, read the first.

  We’re cooking with Ghost Pepper, read the other.

  “I’ve got endless terrible slogans,” Vince said. “But this is the gist. No problem focusing on just the horse, if that’s what you insist. I also have this dude.” He flipped out a picture of a gargantuan Brahma bull. “Honkin’ mean sucker named Ignition Wire. He’s going to be famous—but he’s not a draw yet. Ghost’ll help advertise him, too.”

  “All right then.” Alec said. “Looks like you’ve got all you need.”

  “I just need you to sign a release for the photos. Don’t worry. It’ll only give me the right to use them as promotion for the Jackson Hole rodeo.”

  “Yeah, it’s no problem.”

  Alec seemed more relaxed now that he was inside and away from whatever memories Ghost Pepper evoked. His eyes hadn’t lost their haunted shadow, but he no longer had his fists tightened into human brass knuckles.

  “And so my work here is done.” Vince sat back and closed the file folder that held his examples, prototypes, and now Alec’s pictures.

  Alec eyed him with suspicion. “That was too easy.”

  “Why?” Vince shrugged. “You told me how it was when we talked last week. I tried.”

  “So I can walk out of here and you won’t harangue me about riding the horse?”

  “Did I slap handcuffs on you?” He turned to Joely. “Do you see handcuffs?”

  She chuckled. “No, of course not.”

  “So. Have some more lemonade and visit a while. Catch up. Hey, I know. Tell her about the hat.”

  Every bit of progress made toward relaxation disappeared from Alec’s body, and once again he was a living ball of tension. “You really are a sonofabitch, Vince.”

  “Maybe. It’s a good story, that’s all.”

  “You are not setting a finger on that hat.”

  “I don’t want the hat.”

  “What hat?” Joely asked.

  “Come on.” Alec stood. “We’re leaving.”

  She wanted desperately to call him out for the ridiculous petulance and tell him to stop letting Vince get under his skin. But she remembered how angry he’d made her by telling her what to do about her feelings. There’d be time to question him later. Now she had to support him.

  “Okay.” She pushed herself from the chair as well, and met his eyes.

  He closed his and pressed his fingers along the bridge of his nose. Under his breath he let out a rude expletive. “Hell, you’re only going to ask me about it later,” he said.

  “Not if you don’t want me to.” When he scoffed at her, she shrugged. “Okay. Yeah, I probably will.”

  He sank back down into the chair and toyed with his mug. Finally he sighed.

  “My cousin Buzz rode with us. We were four at the beginning: Vinnie here and Reece Hanson rode the bulls; Buzz and I rode the broncs. I don’t know how it happened, but each pair had a good guy and a bad guy—personas kind of like professional wrestling. Dumb. Meaningless. Reece had the sweet, loveable reputation and Vince the tough guy persona—that was accurate enough. When it came to Buzz and me, though, he wore the white hat and I became the dark, mysterious, no-holds-barred bad boy. Damnedest thing is, I won the championships—enough so the tough cowboy image stuck, but Vince and Buzz were the true hell-raisers.”

  She looked to Vince and he grinned. “So far, he’s got the story right.”

  “Fast-forward to 9/11,” Alec continued. “The short version is, Buzz and I got all up in your face patriotic and went to fight the terrorists. I finished my tour, but Buzz had decided by then that military life was far more exciting than bronc riding. Over in the Middle East he was high all the time on adrenaline and righteous anger, and he stayed once I left. On his last leave home, he had no end of fun razzing me about my constant losses to the horse I couldn’t ride. Drunk at a bar the night before he shipped out for his third tour, I told him . . . ”

  He shot Vince an evil-eyed glare to keep him quiet, and for the first time Vince complied. He simply nodded while Alec continued.

  “I told him I’d bet my black hat against his favorite white one that before he got back for his next leave, I’d ride the damn horse or die trying. He was half a dozen tequila shots to the wind when he took the bet. He told me if I didn’t stick to the back of the horse at least once he’d give the white hat to Vince, take my spurs, and I’d have to buy our beers for a year.”

  “It was a great bet,” Vince said finally. “Funniest bet I ever made.”

  “It was a drunken bet that meant nothing. And it’s null and void because the two principle participants no longer exist.”

  The story only left Joely with a dozen more questions, but the dull, haunted light in Alec’s eyes had turned to a green-gold flash that warned her and everyone else to keep their distance.

  “That’s not true,” Vince said with surprising gentleness. “You’re here. And you know you never gave up on that bet.”

  The tension in the room swelled until Joely was sure the walls would burst from its thick, pressurized heat. Then, to her utter shock, Alec eradicated the strain with a near-maniacal laugh. He slapped his thigh and leaned across the table to clap Vince on the cheek twice before finishing with a friendly slap.

  “You almost did it,” he said. “You almost got me to lose it, but I’m older and wiser so it flopped. Here’s the way it is, Vince. I have the hat. I’m keeping the hat because it was my cousin’s, but we’re the bad guys, Vince. We don’t either one of us get to wear the white hat.”

  He wiped a few remaining tears of laughter from his eyes and looked a
t Joely. “See what I mean? He’s smart as a beady-eyed Wall Street tycoon. He got me to tell a story I never tell anyone, but do you know? I’m glad. Now you’ve heard it, and we can put it to rest. Vince, go ahead and advertise Ghost Pepper. Usher him into a new era, and I can go on with my life. I’ll buy the beer next time you come into town.”

  “How about we make that the day after GP’s first appearance?” Vince nodded. “You have to admit, you want to come and see if the horse still has it.”

  “I do not.” Alec shook his head.

  “You haven’t been back to the grounds at all, have you?” Vince seemed astonished, as if he hadn’t actually put that piece of the puzzle together before.

  “No need,” Alec replied, a little too blithely. “And no desire.”

  “So, you won’t come and have one picture taken with the horse?”

  “Nope. Why ruin a good portrait?”

  He grinned as if it were a joke, but for the first time since she’d met him, Joely saw a chink in Alec Morrissey’s got-it-all-together armor.

  Chapter Thirteen

  HE FULLY EXPECTED to be pummeled by questions on the way home from the Bucking V. Alec stole glances at Joely, waiting for her barrage, prepared to be calmer than he’d been with Vince. He wouldn’t blame her for anything she might say or ask, but he didn’t have the energy to start the conversation himself. Weakness permeated every muscle, as if he’d run a marathon—or spent eight seconds on a bronc that was trying to shoot him fifty feet across an arena. He hadn’t known talking about Buzz would affect him this way, although he’d suspected, which was why he never did it.

  And after the way he’d acted? Yeah, Joely would rightfully have a lot of questions. He’d dragged her along “as a buffer,” and she’d definitely earned a medal of valor for that job today. He’d kept himself from punching Vince at least twice because of Joely. And punch Vince for what? For telling the truth? For being himself?

  He shifted his gaze to the woman beside him, unable to figure out why her presence didn’t agitate him. She watched out the window as they traveled back to Wolf Paw Pass. Serene, comfortable, patient—her lovely face gave no indication that she wanted anything from him. There was no anger or tension in her. In fact, she filled the cab of the truck with a peaceful aura he couldn’t explain.

 

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