“High school? Are you telling me you’re a teacher?” Her eyes widened.
“Is it all that bad? Yes, I taught music and physical education at a rural high school near my home on P.E.I.”
“So that’s why the boys in your band are…” She stopped.
“So much younger than me?” He slanted her a crooked grin that caught at her heart. “Right. They were all students who needed an outlet, a chance to feel they were worth something.”
“And you’ve succeeded in giving it to them.” Her opinion of him went into an upward tailspin. She’d never suspected…
“They’ve succeeded. I’m proud of them. That’s why I hang in there, why I can’t quit even though my gut and my inclination is telling me to do just that. They’re like my own kids. That’s why I couldn’t opt out on that movie deal Annie tied me into. It’s all mixed in with our music deal and could make everything go belly-up if I fail.”
“But since you’re telling me your being discovered was a fluke, a one-in-a-million chance, why encourage Travis?” She sat down opposite him and handed him the salad.
“You can’t be certain someone like Annie won’t be in that audience on Saturday night. Who’s to say he and his band don’t have a fighting chance?”
“Okay, I’ll go along with it this once. But I won’t have you putting dreams of stardom in that boy’s head. I won’t have him hurt and disappointed when he discovers he’s not about to become the next Jordan Brooks…for what that’s worth.”
“Fine. Enough said on the subject. We agreed to an impersonal relationship with no back stories, right? I’ll perform with Travis and his friends one night only, and that will be it. Now will you pass the shepherd’s pie? This hired hand has a mighty appetite.”
****
Shelby was putting Fancy through her paces in the paddock on Sunday morning when Jordan’s old pickup rattled up the drive and down to the barn. They’d called shortly after midnight to tell her they were staying in the city. The audience had demanded so many encores they were both too tired to drive. She rode the mare to the fence and waited as Jordan braked to a stop and Travis leaped out.
“Hey, Shel!” She hadn’t seen him so excited since one Christmas morning when he was twelve and got his first guitar. “We were great! Better than great! Terrific! The crowd called us back for more tunes than I could count and gave us a stand-up ovation!”
“I’m glad.” Shelby smiled down at his glowing enthusiasm. “And no one recognized your lead guitar/backup singer as anyone other than Jake Banks, stable hand?”
“One girl kind of yelled out something, but no one paid any attention.”
“Just exactly what did this perceptive young lady have to say?” Shelby asked as Jordan got out of the truck and came to join them at the fence.
“Nothing much.” He leaned over the top rail and rubbed the mare’s nose. “Hello, girl. You’re looking mighty pretty today.”
“Hey, Jake, I thought it was kind of funny.” Travis was grinning from ear to ear. “She said, and I quote, ‘That lead guitar has the sweetest body since Jordan Brooks.’ ”
“Oh, my.” It was Shelby’s turn to grin as Jordan pretended to concentrate his attention on a small tangle in Fancy’s mane. “Apparently it’s not just your face that’s popular with the ladies.”
“Can we change the subject?” Jordan headed into the barn. “I’ve got to get to work. Any chance of breakfast? We left in a hurry. Travis was anxious to tell you about our success.”
“Sure.” Shelby swung to the ground and held out the reins to him. “Come back here, Banks, and take my mare, like a good hired hand. I can’t stable horses and cook eggs at the same time.”
“No problem, boss.” Jordan adjusted his baseball cap and took the reins from her.
“I’ll check on Black.” Travis turned and jogged into the stable.
“Shelby.” Jordan stopped her as she turned toward the house. “Have you seen Travis perform?”
“I’ve heard him practicing here at the farm.”
“Well, maybe it’s time you saw him in action with a band. The kid’s good, very good. He’s got a lot of talent, the kind that can take him places. I’m telling you, he impressed me…big time.”
“And I’ve already told you where I stand on his making a stab at fame.” She shrugged free. “I’m not in the mood to discuss it again.”
“Then you’re making a mistake.” His tone stopped her. He’d never spoken to her like that before. “He’s got talent, and if you don’t give him a chance to give it a go, you’ll be making him miss out on what might be a great future.”
“And I said no way. Now put the mare away. I’ve heard enough about country music and crazy dreams for one morning.” She turned and strode up to the house, her heart pounding. Was she making a mistake? Was she taking away Travis’s dream? Could she be so cruel?
****
“Like this. Hold the guitar up more, so that when you swing around you don’t knock me or one of the guys in your band off the stage.” Jordan’s voice drew her attention as she passed the open doors of the arena. She whirled to see Jordan and her brother, both wearing guitars, practicing moves in its center.
“What are you doing?”
Both rounded to face her, Travis’s expression one of guilt, Jordan’s one of surprise.
“Just giving Travis a few pointers. After I saw what he could do, the other night, I thought he could profit from a bit of my experience.” Jordan slid the guitar around to the back of his body and faced her.
“Well, I’ll thank you to keep your thoughts to yourself, Mr. Counterfeit Cowboy! Travis and I don’t need your expertise, you need ours, and if you want to go on profiting from it, you’ll stop what you’re doing and get back to work—now.”
Anger raising her blood pressure, she headed back toward the house.
How dare he foster Travis along a road to hurt and disappointment—How dare he! After she’d warned him not to.
She slammed into the kitchen and began to bang frying pans and dishes out of the cupboard. She feigned complete absorption in getting lunch when Jordan stepped into the kitchen.
“What do you want?” she snapped when he moved to block her way to the stove. “Haven’t you done enough already, going against my instructions, encouraging Travis…”
“And haven’t you done enough to keep him from doing what he really wants to do? You may be his sister, but you have no right to foil his dreams, especially when I can help, when I can give him a head start. Don’t you think my coming here may have been just a bit serendipitous?”
“I don’t believe in luck, good or bad. I believe in hard work and doing the best you can with what you have.” Anger like a hot wave was coursing up her body.
“Aha! But you’re not giving Travis a chance to make the most of what he has, and that’s not fair.”
“Fine, you can keep that thought, but while I’m the boss of this place, things will be done my way.” She slammed a frying pan down on the stove. “And right now my way is to leave and go to town for lunch. You, Mr. Superstar, have just become cook for the day.”
She whirled to leave, but he caught her in his arms and pulled her to him. In an instant his mouth covered hers and he was kissing her, and her white-hot anger turned to white-hot desire. The fire of their fight whirled and metamorphosed into passion. This was what she’d been longing for, needing like life itself. Here was the man who could make her float earth-free, could make all her fantasies come true.
“Jake…” Travis’s voice broke them apart as he stepped into the kitchen. “What the heck…?”
“I’m going into town.” Shelby, her face hot, her lips burning, grabbed her purse from the peg by the door. “You guys are on your own.”
She strode out, letting the screen door bang behind her.
What had she done? As she drove out of the lane to the highway she couldn’t believe she’d let emotion get the better of her. One minute she was fighting with the man, the nex
t she was kissing him, desiring him like she’d never desired any other man.
I’ve always believed I was a rational human being. What happened just now belies all my self-perceptions. Back there, while he was kissing me, all I could think about was making love to him—mad, passionate, all-night love. With Jordan Brooks, counterfeit cowboy. I need to do some serious self-assessment, and no doubt about it.
She parked the truck in a car park beside the fast-food restaurant and was heading inside when the voice stopped her.
“Well, hello there, neighbor.” Michelle Latton stepped out of a doorway to block her way. “Driving yourself? Not using that beautiful hunk of male flesh you call a hired hand as chauffeur? My, my, you are missing out on a great fantasy.”
“Good morning, Michelle. You’ll have to excuse me. I don’t have time to trade words with you.” She tried to step around her, but the woman stopped her again.
“Have you heard? Your hired hand’s agent is on the brink of getting me an audition with a movie producer. I plan on coming over to your place and taking him out, just to thank him. I’m good at thanking men.”
“There’s a name for women like you,” Shelby snapped, something inside her coming to a fast, vicious boil. “And there’s no need to thank a person for responding to a blackmail threat.”
“Ah, so, you’ve got something going with Mr. JB yourself.” She cocked her head to one side, letting her long black hair fall over one shoulder. “I didn’t think you had it in you, Doctor. Of course, you realize a little farm girl like you can’t possibly satisfy a man like him, at least not for long, a man who’s had girls and women falling at his feet for the past three years, probably longer, who knows.”
“Get out of my way, Michelle.” The words hissed from her lips. Shelby felt every muscle in her body tense.
“Of course, sweetie.” The woman moved aside, smirking. “Can’t get into a cat fight on the main street of this little hamlet, now can we? But rest assured,” she called after Shelby as the doctor strode past her into the restaurant, “I will thank Mr. JB, and a whole lot more fittingly than you ever can.”
Inside the restaurant Shelby found a booth and slid into it. Her breath came in short, hard bursts and the perspiration of outrage trickled down between her breasts.
Damn, what a day. First that hot encounter with the counterfeit cowboy, and now this. So you think you can seduce Jordan Brooks, do you, Miss Fake and Phony? You think a little farm girl like me doesn’t know how to keep a man like him interested, do you? Well, you’re in for a surprise, lady, because it’s on. Believe me, it’s on.
****
“Aw, Shel, it’s my birthday. The guys are meeting at the Seaview Bar & Grill in town to celebrate. You can’t be that mad about what Jordan and I were doing this morning not to let me go. Anyhow…” and here he proceeded more carefully. “You two seemed to be hitting it off pretty good a little later.”
Shelby had arrived back at the farm at suppertime to find Travis waiting for her in the kitchen with the request.
“What you saw was one very big mistake on my part, and I’ll thank you to forget it.” She hung her purse on its peg and crossed the kitchen.
“Yeah, okay. Guess it’s your business. After all you’re both over twenty-one.” The last came out with a hint of sarcasm. “So what do you say?”
“I assume, since you’ll be legal drinking age, you and the guys will be tossing back a few brews?” She faced him, hands on her hips. Just what I need, more confrontation. “How do you intend to get home?”
“I’m the designated driver.” Jordan stepped into the kitchen wearing new jeans and a green chambray shirt. Fresh from a shower, he was enough to take a girl’s breath away. “See, I’m all cleaned up for the party.”
“Really?” She looked him up and down, emotions she’d rather deny bubbling to the surface; emotions heated to a point of no return by that kiss and Michelle Latton’s words. He is one gorgeous creature. And a charming one. And…
“Yeah, really.” He broke in on her thoughts and met her gaze with that resolve-melting grin.
“You’re prepared to spend the evening with a bunch of rowdy twenty-somethings and not drink?” Shelby looked at him doubtfully.
“No problem.” He went to the sink and poured himself a glass of water. “I never was much of a drinking man, in spite of some of the songs I sing. I’ve spent enough evenings in a room full of people enjoying a bunch of cold ones without touching a drop to know I can handle the situation. Travis deserves a good time. Look at what he’s done with Midnight Black. Admit it. No one can manage that stallion like he does.”
“Okay, okay.” Shelby threw up her hands. “Travis, just remember, being old enough to drink doesn’t mean you have to do it all in one night.”
“Sure.” He planted a kiss on her cheek. “Come on, Jake. Let’s roll. The guys are waiting.” He did a crazy little dance out of the kitchen, letting the screen bang behind him. “Yahoo!” he yelled as he headed toward Jordan’s battered pickup.
“Take good care of him.” Shelby stopped Jordan with a hand on his arm. “He’s just a kid, even if he is six feet tall and has shoulders out to there.”
“Don’t worry. The guys in my band are all about his age. I know how to handle them.” He looked down at her restraining hand, paused, then swooped forward to plant a quick kiss on her cheek. “Enjoy your evening. We’ll be home around midnight.”
He headed out to the truck before she could respond. As they drove away, both waving back at her, she put a hand to her cheek. A pleasant heat spread out from their point of contact and slid slowly down her body. She gave herself a shake. Don’t be crazy, Shelby Masters. He’s Jordan Brooks, country music superstar…a counterfeit cowboy.
But the feeling persisted as she turned toward the living room and an evening alone watching television. It increased each time Michelle’s mocking words echoed in her mind.
****
The rattling of the old truck woke her. Struggling up on an elbow, she squinted at the luminous dials on the bedside clock radio. Two a.m. Well, what had she expected? It was Travis’s twenty-first birthday. Then she realized the truck hadn’t stopped at the house but had continued until… She estimated it was at Jordan’s cabin.
Struggling out of bed, she wrapped her floor-length robe around her and shoved her feet into moccasins. By the time she got out of the house, lights were burning in the cabin, and through the uncurtained windows she could see Jordan moving about inside.
“Shelby?” As she reached the truck, he came out and stopped abruptly as he saw her. “What are you doing down here?” He spoke softly, almost in a whisper.
“Just checking to see if you guys are okay.” She moved closer to him. Although she could smell smoke and other bar scents, she didn’t detect any alcohol on his breath.
“We’re fine. Well, sort of.” He glanced back in the shaft of light emanating from the cabin’s screen door and held a finger to his lips. “Travis is going to wake up with a big head and a churning belly. That’s why I decided we’d better bunk out here.”
“He’s asleep…already?” She softened her tone and started toward the door, but he caught her arm.
“He was asleep the minute I loaded him into the truck. When we got home, I pulled off his boots and laid him on the bed. He only grunted. Now I’d better get him undressed and under the covers. I need a few hours of sleep, too. I think I’m going to have a lot more barn work than usual tomorrow. And by the way, sorry about this morning. I know you don’t want Travis encouraged with his music, but after I heard him play… Man, the kid’s got talent.”
“And so do a lot of others his age who are languishing in a Nashville street hoping a fairy godmother like Ann Wise will come along.”
“There I have to admit you’re right. A lot of what success is amounts to promotion and a great agent. But I can do both for Travis. He won’t be starting from scratch.”
“Look, Jordan, I know you mean well, but I understand h
ow broken dreams feel, and I won’t expose him to that kind of pain.”
“I can’t believe all your dreams were destroyed.” He leaned back against the old truck, crossed his arms on his chest, and met her gaze steadily. “This farm, your practice—weren’t they a big part of your long-term dreams? None of us stay in the spotlight of youth forever. We get a chance and either make it or don’t make it, then move on. Athletes, performers, and the like generally have a limited time in the spotlight. It’s the long-term plan that makes a life, but it shouldn’t be lived with regrets of what might have been. If Travis did make it big in country music, I’m sure he’d want to come back here to fulfill his life ambitions. I know I do.”
“Are you telling me you’re fed up with being a superstar?”
“That’s what I’m telling you. But sometimes you get trapped into something. Something you can’t abandon.”
“Maybe. We’ll see. For now, thanks for looking after my little brother tonight. I don’t approve of Travis getting drunk, but he did deserve to celebrate his birthday with his friends in whatever manner he chose as long as it hurt no one. Well, with the exception of himself, tomorrow morning.”
“No problem. Now suppose you head on back to bed. Breakfast at six?”
“Breakfast at six.” She smiled up at him and suddenly found herself melting into those deep blue eyes.
For a moment they stood gazing into each other’s eyes. A slice of moon and starry sky lighted the moment. From the brook beyond the barn, frogs harmonized. Somewhere an owl hooted. A soft, salty breeze drifted in off the bay. Shelby’s breath caught in her throat.
Then Jordan broke the spell.
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