Exquisite Acquisitions

by Charlene Sands

  Thoughts of her gorgeous white-clad cowboy, astride his stallion, racing into town to sweep her up and ride into the sunset would be left for the late show in her dreams. It was the only place for them. And as soon as Macy realized that, her heart would stop aching, her stomach would stop clenching and she would get her head back in the game.

  * * *

  Carter had worked from sunup to sundown for the past eight days. He made appointments he really didn’t need to make, had meetings in his Dallas office with each one of his employees that were unnecessary and worked alongside his capable ranch hands in the barns and on the land. He dove into his work with uncanny vigor. His actions caused attention, garnering raised eyebrows and a few tactful questions from those close to him. None of his attempts helped him shake the feeling that he’d lost something valuable, something that couldn’t be replaced. This afternoon, as he stood by the corral fence watching the new colt lumber around the arena, separated from his mama and trying to find his own way, Carter felt one with him. Just like Midnight, he faced the uncertainty and stumbled around.

  Earlier today, Carter had looked up an old girlfriend’s phone number. He’d stared at the screen that, with one tap of his finger, might have hooked him up with a woman, and then he cursed at his own stupidity.

  “What the hell.” Instead of making that call, he’d grabbed a cold beer and strode outside.

  He took a few gulps quickly, letting the foamy brew slide down his throat, and thought about how often in the past week he’d been tempted to call Macy. He’d thought about her at least twenty times a day. He wondered if she’d fallen right back into step with the Hollywood scene. And the more he thought about her, the more it irked him that she’d left the minute after he’d given her back that ring. Maybe that was all she’d ever been after. Maybe she saw her opportunity to play on his generous nature with well-rehearsed tears. She’d admitted she was broke. Just maybe, she’d played him for a fool. She might, at this very minute, be going after the other diamonds she’d sold at the Waverly auction.

  Carter winced at his own suspicions. He’d been tainted by Jocelyn’s deception, and because of her he’d vowed to keep up his guard around women. His wavering trust was as thin as a split horsehair.

  He swore an oath and told himself he was right to let her leave. They’d had a brief affair with no talk of a future between them, no talk of anything beyond the here and now. That night in New York, he’d seen a woman being hounded and pursued against her will and he’d intervened. His protective streak had kicked in big-time, and he told himself that’s all it was. He couldn’t watch Macy being badgered like that, and another round of protectiveness had kicked in when he’d seen the extent of her vulnerability. He’d invited her to Wild River because she’d needed an escape, a safe place to hide out, and not because she was beautiful and witty and the distraction he’d needed at the time.

  “Hey, Rock,” he said when the golden retriever ambled toward him. “How’s it going, boy?”

  The dog plopped his forlorn body down beside him. Rocky had been a victim of Macy’s departure, too. He’d spent the first five nights in her bedroom, waiting eagerly for her to appear. He’d sniffed in her closet, under her bed, in the bathroom, and when Carter would pass by her room, the dog would look up with a question in his disappointed caramel eyes. It was one thing to work through his own sense of emptiness with Macy gone, but seeing it expressed so damn desperately on the dog’s face was like a sucker punch to his gut.

  “Yeah, I miss her, too.” Carter had been insane to think that he wouldn’t.

  He polished off his beer in one quick gulp and strode to his Jeep. “C’mon, Rock.”

  He knew the dog would follow in hope that Carter would lead him to Macy. That wasn’t going to happen. Rocky would just have to forget her, and in time he would. Carter might not be so lucky.

  He sped off with the dog in the passenger seat. Rocky stuck his head out the window, and the warm August air hit his face and ruffled his whiskers in the breeze.

  Though he didn’t have the first clue why, Carter drove across town and slowed as he approached his father’s house. He parked the Jeep in front. On a deep, unsteady breath, he turned his head to face the shack where he’d grown up, and he stared for a long while. He didn’t really see a broken-down porch with wood planks missing or window shutters loose on their hinges. He didn’t really see the dirt and neglect. He looked beyond that this time, to see something entirely different.

  A chance.

  He got out of the Jeep with Rocky at his side. “It’s a ten-minute visit,” he said to the dog. “And then we’re outta here.”

  * * *

  An hour later, Carter’s restlessness and jumpy nerves got the better of him. He powered the Jeep along the highway that led to Wild River Ranch and took the turnoff that led to the inn. He thought about that mysterious Gold Heart Statue, and whether his friend Roark was in any danger. He went over the facts on his mind about that text Roark had sent… Anything to keep him from thinking about Macy.

  Rocky’s ears perked up when he heard Bill Fargo’s call of hello. Carter pulled the Jeep alongside Fargo as he walked the grounds. “Hey there, out doing your rounds?”

  The old man smiled. “That’s what you pay me for.”

  Carter nodded. “Got time to take a break?”

  The old man looked at his watch. “I was just about to.”

  Carter parked by the front of the inn and climbed out. He walked with Fargo to the shaded gazebo steps and they sat down. Rocky sniffed all around first, his nose down as he moved along the perimeter, picking up Macy’s scent. When he finally looked up, it was with recrimination.

  Where the heck is she? the dog seemed to be asking.

  Carter ignored him and stretched his legs out, his boot heels scraping the cracked stone steps that surrounded the gazebo. “How’s it going?”

  Fargo looked out across the field. “Fine. No sign of trouble. Everything’s been kinda peaceful—too peaceful actually, without Macy stirring up trouble.”

  Carter swiveled his head and caught the man’s knowing gaze. “Yeah.”

  “Haven’t seen you here for a while,” Fargo said. “Not since Macy left.”

  “I’ve been busy.”

  “I bet you have. Busy ignoring the truth. Maybe even afraid of dealing with it.”

  Carter should take offense. The man worked for him, and though his tone wasn’t disrespectful, his words certainly were. “What do you think I’m afraid of?” He gave Fargo a pass due to his age. Carter was curious to hear what he was getting at.

  Fargo took his hat off and ran his hand through his shock of graying hair. “I was busy like you once upon a time. So busy, in fact, that I let a woman slip right through my fingers. The perfect woman for me. It was a messy thing, it was. And I’m sorry I ever let her go.”

  “What happened with her?”

  Fargo’s self-deprecating laughter touched the very ends of Carter’s soul. “I lost her. Oh…it was a long time ago, but in some ways it was yesterday. I’ve been lonely for her all my life. I’d hate to see that happen to you.”

  “Me? That won’t happen to me. I’m never going to let it.”

  “You’re too busy, Carter,” he said with a shake of his head. “Ignoring what’s right in front of you. Too busy denying what you’re feeling in here.” He thumped a finger into Carter’s chest right over his heart. “And letting what’s going on in here,” he said, pointing to Carter’s head, “make the wrong choices for you.”

  Carter drew a deep breath.

  “Don’t let pride stand in your way, son. If you care about Macy—”

  “How do I know she feels anything for me?” Carter asked. “And how can I believe her? She’s an actress. As soon as she got the ring back, she left the ranch.”

  “Did she get what she really wanted? If you think she was after that diamond ring, you’re thinking with your ass.”

  Carter’s eyes snapped to his.

  �
�Pardon me. I’m an old man, and I tell it like it is. That girl was devastated when she left the ranch. I heard it in her voice. I saw it on her face. Maybe the only acting she was doing was when she pretended it didn’t kill her to leave Wild River. I know one thing, it’d be a shame to let your fears and suspicions hold you back from finding out the truth.”

  Carter drew a sharp breath. The old man was confusing him, and when he got that way he became cautious. Carter didn’t need someone telling him how he should feel and what he should do. He’d done all right for himself so far, with only a misstep or two in his life. But who could blame him? He’d had a rotten upbringing and was proud of what he’d accomplished under the guidance of his uncle.

  Carter changed the subject abruptly and spoke with Fargo for only a few minutes more before taking his leave. He couldn’t let Fargo persuade him into making another blunder. He wasn’t about to go after Macy, hat in hand, only to have her turn a cold shoulder to him and laugh in his face. Though a large part of him said she wouldn’t do that, Carter couldn’t be sure, and he wasn’t good at taking foolish chances.

  The next day, he wandered around the ranch with no real sense of purpose. His work was all caught up and his desperate restlessness couldn’t be ebbed. He’d taken off on his favorite mare and rode roughshod over the terrain, pushing his horse hard and coming back exhausted and spent. The day after that, he paid his cousin a visit to shoot the breeze and drink hard liquor until he couldn’t see straight. Brady had driven him home that night.

  That next afternoon, Carter sought Bill Fargo out to finish the conversation they’d begun the other day. But Fargo didn’t answer his phone or respond to the text message Carter had sent him. Henry hadn’t seen him today, and neither had Mara.

  Carter strode into his bedroom, frustrated. He had to shower and change for a business dinner in Dallas he’d rather not attend. As he slipped his shirt off, he noticed a plush velvet ring box sitting on his dresser. His heart leaped in his chest. It looked like the same box he’d given Macy. There was a note attached.

  Carter opened the box first. To his amazement, the legendary Tarlington diamond caught the light and reflected back at him with a twinkle. There was no mistaking the iconic ring with the T-shaped configuration. Its brilliance was matched only by its uniqueness. Mystified, Carter set the ring down and lifted the note.

  Dear Carter,

  You bought a very expensive ring at Waverly’s during the Tina Tarlington auction. I outbid you, or rather, my assistant outbid you for Tina’s prized ring from the man considered her one true love. I adored Tina’s work and once spent time with her. I’d hoped she’d run away with me, but it wasn’t to be. In any case, I’ve had my eye on you, Carter, and think you are a good man. You have fallen hard for Tina’s daughter, without a doubt. I’d like you to give this ring back to her. Whether you return it to her as a favor to me, or give it to her as a pledge of your love, it’s up to you, but I wouldn’t be a fool if I were you. Macy is worth far much more than a mere diamond ring.

  Bill

  The words sank in as the questions flew. Carter’s wary nature had him looking at an attached bill of sale that appeared absolutely authentic from Waverly’s. And inside the ring, he squinted to read the loving inscription from Clyde Tarlington, With love to my Tina.

  Carter was shaken to the core. His suspicions had vanished. He didn’t need any more proof that this diamond ring was the genuine article. He had the actual Tarlington diamond in his possession, and there was only one person on earth who deserved to wear this ring. There was only one person on earth who deserved everything he had to give.

  Carter closed his eyes briefly, acknowledging the potent emotion sweeping through him. He’d denied it, stomped on it and disregarded it for too long. Now, it swelled in his heart and made him feel giddy inside. He didn’t have a clue who the heck Bill Fargo really was, but he knew one thing—he owed him a giant Texas-size thank-you.

  * * *

  Macy stared at the cowboy who stood on the grassy hill, his black felt Stetson shading his eyes and his manly physique accented by tight Wrangler jeans and a red Western shirt. When the director called “Action,” Macy took her cue and rode on horseback over to him.

  The cowboy was a pretty boy who was cocksure of himself, strutting around the Hollywood set, getting into character by spitting tobacco and dusting up his shiny new leather boots. The irony of Macy landing this role in the Rugged Cologne commercial was almost laughable, but she needed the work and it paid well.

  The cowboy spoke his lines, his Southern drawl too drawn out to sound authentic. In a grand sweep, he lifted her off the horse and stumbled backward attempting to carry her weight. Desperately, he clutched at the material of her calico dress while trying to keep his balance and ruined the take.

  It seemed the Rugged cowboy needed some more time in the gym.

  Macy couldn’t help making comparisons. Ronny Craft was trying, but he needed a few more years of maturity and a complete personality adjustment to pull off being the real cowboy deal. He’d been hitting on her all day, asking her out on a date, and hadn’t quite gotten the hint no matter how many times she’d told him no.

  Carter was the real deal, and she missed him like crazy. Just being on horseback again reminded her of the time she’d spent at Wild River Ranch. Working on a set with wranglers and watching them care for the horses brought images of the night Midnight was born. This silly cologne commercial had stirred up memories of Carter that Macy had tried desperately to lock away.

  The diamond he’d given back to her would go a long way in helping her achieve her drama school dream, but Macy’s heart wasn’t in it anymore. She couldn’t force herself to sell the ring. She couldn’t force herself to find a location for the school. Every day she found an excuse to put it off.

  And every day she hoped her love for Carter would diminish. Every day she’d tried to talk herself out of loving him until she finally realized that she would probably love him until her dying day, in the same way her mother had loved her father.

  It hurt to think her love was one-sided. But the hurt also helped to remind her that he had never loved her back. He hadn’t put up even a mild protest when she announced she was leaving the ranch.

  “That’s a wrap!” the assistant director shouted an hour later. The crew, who’d been quietly hovering behind an invisible boundary in back of the director, scattered and scurried to clear away the equipment.

  Later that day, Macy stopped at the grocery store to buy eggs and vegetables. A veggie omelet was on the menu for tonight’s meal. Macy pulled the scarf from her head, tired of the disguise, and let her black curls fall freely. The media frenzy surrounding her had died down now that the Tina Tarlington auction was over, and Macy could actually drive in her own neighborhood without being followed. She had Whitney Wynds to thank for that. The rising new starlet had stolen the spotlight for her high crimes in fashion. She’d taken a scissor to a designer’s original work, making it all her own for her first Hollywood premiere, and the style police from all across the nation wouldn’t let it rest.

  Macy enjoyed the peace as she walked the brick pathway that led to her condo. But her small smile faded as she glanced down at the sidewalk and saw the shadow of a man looming long and tall behind her. A Western hat outlined by the late-afternoon sun told her who it was.

  “Ronny,” she said, gripping her grocery bag tight. “I told you on the set, I won’t go out with you.”

  “Who’s Ronny?”

  She recognized that voice. Macy whirled around so fast she dropped her bag of groceries. “C-Carter?”

  He grinned, a devastating grin that made her breath catch. “Hello, Hollywood. I’ve missed you.”

  “I’ve, uh, missed you, too.” Macy blinked. Her heart thudded heavily against her chest. And her legs went wobbly at the sight of him standing in front of her home. “Wh-what are you doing here?”

  Carter took a few steps forward and then bent to pick up her grocery ba
g, sneaking a peek inside. “I bet half those eggs didn’t break.”

  She blinked again, trying to get with the program. Carter was here, in Hollywood, and more important, on her doorstep and she wasn’t dreaming. “No, I, uh, guess the grocery boy packed them really good.”

  Carter rose, holding the grocery bag in one hand while the other hand touched her arm lightly. His beautiful hazel eyes turned serious. “Do you have time to talk?”

  Talk? He wanted to talk?

  She nodded, wondering what brought him here. “Okay.”

  “I’m not interrupting anything…with Ronny?” he asked, his brows lifting.

  “Ronny? Oh no…he’s not—” He’s not a cowboy. He’s not you.

  “’Cause if you’ve got something going with him,” Carter said, his voice menacingly low, “I’d have to knock him ten ways to Sunday.”

  Macy actually laughed. And so did he. “May I come in?”

  Macy let him inside her home and immediately wondered what he thought about her decor. She had good taste but loved to bargain shop. Her home was an eclectic display of design on a budget.

  “Nice,” he said as she grabbed the grocery bag from his arms. He walked around, taking a look out her terrace window while she put her grocery bag on the kitchen counter. She was so nervous having him here that she fidgeted with the plastic bags of vegetables and actually counted the unbroken eggs. Carter was right, she’d lost only half of them.

  She shoved the carton in the refrigerator, her nerves jangling, and when she turned around Carter was there, standing three feet away.

  He looked massive inside her small kitchen and handsome wearing a Western jacket over a pressed white shirt. His jeans were comfortably worn and fit him to perfection. He took his hat off and a lock of his dark blond hair fell onto his forehead. It was so endearing, Macy had to hold herself back from rushing into his arms. She didn’t have a clue what he was doing here.