Colorado High

by Joyce C. Ware

  “I can’t work with you looking at me like that. Besides, I’m sure you didn’t drop by just to watch your aging Wild Westerns girl put a horse through his paces.”

  His smile could have melted iron. “Like fine wine.”

  “Huh?”

  “The aging part, Tessie. You still have that lush look, you know.”

  Tessa sighed, slid off Resha, and handed the reins to Miguel. “Take fifteen, okay?” Miguel scowled. He didn’t approve of her breaking a training session, especially for a man he had always considered frivolous.

  “Coffee?” she said as they walked towards the house.

  “Thanks, but I just had some with Marion. My ex-wife,” he added. “She’s living here on the Cottonwood ranch.”

  “Yes, I know,” Tessa said.

  “You know her?” he asked warily.

  “No, but some friends of mine do.” She left it at that, rather enjoying seeing him wonder how well they knew her and what they might have said.

  “What’s on your mind, Scott? Anything to do with Garland? At your housewarming, you two seemed to be getting along real well.” Her tone was dry.

  “I get along with all the women I work with,” he returned blandly.

  “Speaking as her mother, I’m grateful for the doors you’ve opened for her up in Telluride.”

  “Oh?” It was clear from Scott’s puzzled expression that he never consciously offered anyone anything beyond his own irresistible self.

  “Very grandfatherly of you.”

  He didn’t like that at all. He turned towards her, scowling. “Am I Garland’s father?” he asked abruptly.

  Tessa stood stock-still and stared at him. “You can’t be serious.”

  “It’s the eyes, Tessie. More than one person has commented about the resemblance.”

  You’ve sure got that part right, she reflected bitterly.

  “So-o-o, I thought maybe she got them from me.” He smiled winningly, stuck his long hands in the pockets of his linen trousers, and rocked back on his heels.

  Tessa, unmoved by this display of Shelby grace, said, “Not likely . . . unless, of course, you believe I’m capable of an immaculate conception.” He gaped at her. “For God’s sake, Scott, we never went to bed together!”

  “But we saw each other on and off for almost two years. No sex?” He looked insulted. “Are you sure?”

  “Very sure. None. Nada. Zip.” She regarded him speculatively. “Would it have made a difference if we had? In regard to your ... um, feelings about Garland, I mean.”

  He shrugged.

  My God, Tessa thought. Not even incest gives him pause. “Good thing you didn’t want coffee, Scott, because I’m not in the mood to give you anything but the bum’s rush.”

  His expression conveyed no embarrassment; if anything it smacked of self-righteousness. “I could have lied, you know.”

  “You’d have to have a conscience for that.” Tessa heaved a weary sigh. “Go away, Scott . . . there’s nothing for you here.”

  “Does that include Garland?”

  Tessa looked away. She wanted to protect Garland. Keep her safe and happy. Not tied to her apron strings, exactly, but . . . but what? A picture of a spider’s web flashed into her mind’s eye, an intricate pattern spun with a strong gossamer thread and decorated with struggling prey.

  “It probably would, if I had the right to make that choice,” Tessa said slowly, as much to herself as Scott. “But I don’t . . . not anymore. My daughter is an adult; she can make her own decisions.”

  Scott’s face brightened. She felt like smacking it.

  “The Bluegrass Festival is this weekend, Tessie. I hope you’ll come. Not for my sake,” he added hastily, “for Garland’s. She’s worked very hard on it.”

  Tessa, recalling Garland’s invitation to Rick Chavez, surprised Scott with a smile. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  Tessa didn’t bother walking Scott to his car. She returned to the corral where Miguel wordlessly handed her Resha’s reins. The colt was unhappy about being asked to resume working, but Tessa, aware of Miguel’s dark judgmental gaze following them, persevered. When they finished a half-hour later, even Miguel was pleased. They both knew that getting a young horse to accept being reined back was crucial to his development as a cutting prospect.

  “Bueno,” he said.

  Tessa grinned. From him, that simple “good” was the equivalent of “fantastic!” from anyone else.

  The phone was ringing as she entered the kitchen. She grabbed the receiver off the hook and stretched across to the sink to get herself a glass of water. “Yes?”

  “Hey there, Tessa.” It was Lloyd. “I think maybe you better get yourself a lawyer.”

  “You’re not actually planning on go ahead with this idiotic business, are you?”

  “Yeah, I guess I am. Judge Colby seems to think I may have a case.”

  “I don’t believe it,” she said grimly.

  “Oh, he didn’t like the idea much, but the way Terry’s— The way my lawyer put the, uh, situation to him, he didn’t have much choice. You’ll be hearing from his clerk about a date for the hearing . . . before the week’s out, prob’bly.” He paused.

  Tessa, at a loss for words, gulped from her glass, grimacing at the water’s lukewarm temperature.

  “Be nice to get all this behind us without too much fuss,” he continued in a low, ingratiating tone. “Whaddaya say we get together? See what we can come up with.”

  Realizing from his smarmy voice that what Lloyd really wanted was a fast, cheap, out-of-court settlement, Tessa set her glass down carefully. She gripped the receiver with both hands—”I say you’re a lowdown scheming bastard, Lloyd!”—then slammed it back on the hook, but not soon enough to escape his jeering laughter.

  I shouldn’t have lost my cool. I played right into those ham hands of his . . .

  She paced restlessly, trying to decide what to do.

  Should she call Ben Colby?

  Not without some kind of proof. And to get that, she had to call Jed. Oh God.

  It was the last thing in the world she wanted to do, but what choice had she?

  Tessa waited until after supper, when Jed would be more likely to be in and Garland had gone upstairs to do some hand laundry. The phone rang a long time. He answered just as she was about to hang up.

  “I was helping Pop get ready for bed, Tessa.” His voice was cold. “What do you want?”

  “I’m sorry, Jed, I never would have bothered you except . . . well, it’s sort of an emergency.”

  “Is it Garland?” His voice took on urgency. “Has something happened to her?”

  “No, no, nothing like that. It’s Lloyd. He called today to tell me Ben Colby has agreed to hold a hearing to reconsider the settlement of Barry’s estate. I guess I’ll be needing expert testimony from that friend of yours. I was wondering if you’d call him again for me.”

  He paused. “I’ll get back to you.”

  “There isn’t much time. A week maybe.”

  “I said I’d get back to you.”

  Tessa closed her eyes. She couldn’t remember him ever being this angry with her before. “Jed? I ... I don’t know how to thank you for—”

  “No need. I’m not doing it for you.”

  “No . . . no, of course not. For the kids.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Good night, Jed.”

  His response was the drone of a broken connection.

  Tessa stared dumbly at the receiver in her hand.

  Goodbye, old friend.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  At breakfast the next morning. Garland regarded her mother thoughtfully. “How long since you’ve had a trim, Mom?”

  Tessa raised a hand to flick her hair off her shoulders. “Lord, I don’t know— a donkey’s age. You think I need one?”

  “Mmm-hmm. It’s looking a bit, uh, draggy.”

  Draggy? Was that Garland’s way of hinting that a shorter length might help her look less long in t
he tooth?

  “I usually wear it pulled back into a club or ponytail, you know.”

  “Yeah, but not always. Trust me. Mom. Call Jeannie.”

  Tessa gave her a guilty smile. “I haven’t done that in a donkey’s age either— “ She broke off, looking puzzled. “Why a donkey? Do they live longer than horses and mules? I’ve known some pretty old ponies, but donkeys?”

  “I haven’t the faintest,” Garland muttered. “Have you seen my car keys?”

  “I thought you were planning to be a veterinarian!”

  “Aha!” Garland crowed as she retrieved the keys from the depths of her shoulder bag. “I am. Mom, but I’ve a way to go yet. I’ll have to get back to you on that.”

  “Did I tell you your boss stopped by yesterday?”

  Garland turned from the open door. “Mona came here? Whatever for?”

  “Not that one, Garland. Scott. He wondered if you might be his daughter. The eyes, you know.”

  “Well, well,” Garland said, raising her eyebrows. “It’s nice to know he draws the line someplace. What did he say when you told him I wasn’t?”

  “Well, the thing is, when it comes to sex, Scott doesn’t draw lines ... in fact, I don’t think he even sees them. If anything, he seemed kinda disappointed.”

  “I wish I could think you were wrong.” She shook her head. “Lord. What a creep.”

  “A charming creep, though,” Tessa said.

  “Yeah, he is,” Garland admitted.

  “He told me you’ve worked very hard to make his festival a success.”

  “Not as hard as that little bluegrass singer has been working on him,” Garland said.

  “Back in the picture, is she?”

  “Is she ever! Looking sweet and fresh as morning dew, but if you ask me, she’s got a lot of hard mileage on her.” Garland grinned. “The old rascal may have met his match.”

  “My, my,” Tessa said, knowing better than to express outright delight at Garland’s disillusionment.

  They smiled at each other affectionately.

  “Everything okay with you. Mom?”

  “Sure,” Tessa said, not quite meeting her daughter’s earnest gaze. “Me and that bay colt, we’re a lot alike these days, both of us learning lessons that don’t come all that easy.” Her smile turned rueful. “Only difference is, backing up gave him the most trouble; with me, it’s going ahead.”

  “And damn the torpedoes?”

  “Haven’t seen many of those around here, Garland . . . except maybe for your Uncle Lloyd. I mean, look at him: he’s big and round and pointy-headed, too.”

  “Now that you mention it,” Garland said, laughing, “there is a certain resemblance. Gotta go. Mom! Call Jeannie, okay?”

  And Tessa did.

  “Tessa who?” Jeannie said. “Golly gosh, that name sure does sound familiar, but I just can’t seem to— “

  “Give me a break, Jeannie. It’s been kind of hectic around here lately.”

  “Prove it!” she demanded.

  Tessa hesitated. Garland’s a lot more sophisticated than I was ready to accept? Lloyd’s taking me to court? Scott Shelby’s a shit? Jed told me to go to hell? She settled for her brother-in-law.

  “Lloyd talked Ben Colby into reconsidering the settlement of Barry’s estate. I don’t know when the hearing’s going to be, but Lloyd said soon.”

  “But that’s ridiculous! On what grounds?”

  “The twins’ paternity. Seems he passed Scott Shelby in Cottonwood a while back, and those hazel eyes of his got old Lloyd to thinking.”

  “Oh my God. That bastard!”

  Jeannie’s indignation cheered her. “Well, it is an unusual shade of hazel, you know. Sure gave Barry pause . . . probably others, too.”

  “Not your friends, sweetie!” Tessa suspected Jeannie was shading the truth; her next words confirmed it. “Not your real friends, anyway. Does this mean Lloyd hired a lawyer? I thought he hated to part with so much as a penny! What’s he after?”

  “I refused to consider his offer for the land Barry left the twins. He wants it in the worst way, and so does Terry Ballou.”

  “Oh, well, that explains it. If Mr. Deep Pockets Ballou is involved, Lloyd’ll have a free ride for as far as he wants to go.”

  “Thanks so much for sharing that with me.”

  “Hey, I’m sorry, but— “

  “It’s okay, Jeannie. You’re not telling me anything I didn’t already know.”

  “Can’t Shelby put a spike in his nasty little scheme? I assume you’ve-talked to him about it.”

  “Well, the thing is, Scott says he doesn’t recall not sleeping with me. Considers it a blot on his record, I guess. Anyway, that’s one of the reasons you haven’t heard from me.”

  “You mean there are more?”

  “Oh, yeah. But that’s not why I called now. Garland says I need a trim. She says, and I quote, ‘It looks draggy.’ “

  “Mmmm-hmm. Sounds serious. Angie Lindblad canceled her regular ten o’clock. How would that be?”

  “Today?”

  “Yeah . . . uh, Marion Shelby’s coming at eleven, would that matter?”

  “Can’t see why. I haven’t met her yet and I’m kind of curious.”

  “That’s right! You missed the barbecue, didn’t you? Say, how was that housewarming anyway?”

  “Ancient history, Jeannie.”

  “Oh, like that, huh?”

  “Like that,” Tessa said firmly. “See you at ten.”

  Jeannie studied Tessa’s reflection in the mirror, hoisted a lock of hair, weighed it, shook her head. “Garland knows whereof she speaks, my dear. You need a trim, a shaping, a wash, and a thorough conditioning.” She cocked her head. “Maybe just a little color this time, to sort of brighten things up? Give you a new lease on life, cross my heart.”

  “Forget it, Jeannie. The old lease hasn’t expired yet.”

  “Well, when you decide what your next move is--”

  “You’ll be the first to know.”

  “Promise? You haven’t been that reliable a communicator lately.’’

  Tessa drew a cross with her finger on the plastic wrap Jeannie had tied around her. “Promise.”

  Jeannie tilted Tessa’s head back into the sink, wet her hair, and worked suds through it, her massaging fingers eliciting a sigh of contentment.

  “That feels so goo-o-o-d!” Tessa purred.

  “Don’t care how it feels,” Jeannie said briskly. “It’s how it looks when I’m finished that counts.”

  Tessa watched with a respectful interest approaching awe as her friend clipped and combed and deftly wielded the dryer. Even before they entered their self-absorbed teens. Garland and Gavin had refused to allow their mother anywhere near them with a scissors, and Miguel had prepared the horses for shows ever since she left one of them with a chewed-off stubble for a mane. She had told him she just couldn’t seem to get it even.

  But Jeannie had. She always did, Tessa thought as she turned this way and that, admiring the effect in the mirror. “I feel like a new woman!”

  Jeannie crossed her arms, a smug smile on her face. “Well, at least it’s not draggy anymore.”

  The bell over the door jangled, announcing a new arrival. The woman who entered, waving hello at Jeannie, was small, gray-haired, and plumply pretty. Calm assurance flowed from her, and as she approached them, her steps brisk and light in polished brown boots, Tessa noted the flattering line of her long-sleeved white linen shirt and tan twill pants. They looked simple enough, but given her figure and a fit like that, she judged them made to order.

  “Be with you in a minute, Marion,” Jeannie said. “Charlene wants me to check a color job she’s doing. That blond vision I just finished with is Tessa Wagner, by the way. She’s the horse lady Jed and I were telling you about.”

  Tessa laughed. “Vision? Wow. I think Jeannie better have her eyes checked.”

  “I heard that!” Jeannie called from the other end of the salon. “You should have
seen her when she came in!”

  Tessa laughed. “Nice to meet you at last, Marion. You’re interested in horses?”

  “I think so,” Marion said, shaking the hand Tessa extended. “What I mean is, I’ve always liked horses—I used to ride a lot when I was younger, even owned a couple, but that’s a long time ago. You haven’t changed much.”

  Tessa looked puzzled. “Uh, have we met before? I’m sorry, but— “

  “No, no. Scott had your picture”—she squared off a big rectangle with her fingers—“over his desk. His very own girl of the golden West. I was jealous as hell.”

  “No need to be. What kind of horse are you looking for?”

  Marion Shelby looked amused. About what? Tessa wondered. Did I come across as pushy ?

  “Are you by any chance free for lunch?” the older woman asked.

  “I guess so,” Tessa said slowly. “Sure, why not? It’s been a long time since I’ve been up your way. You’ve got yourself a real nice spread— I’ll be interested to see what you’ve done with it.”

  “So far, not all that much; I’ve got ideas though . . . Jed Bradburn helped me sort them out.”

  I just bet he did, Tessa thought, knowing how much he valued the grazing land she’d leased him.

  “Sorry for the delay!” Jeannie said as she bustled back. “What are you having today?” She eyed Marion’s gray bob appraisingly. “That trim’s holding up pretty good.”

  “Just a wash and blow-dry, Jeannie. Do you mind waiting?” she asked Tessa, as she settled into the chair.

  “Nope,” Tessa said. “Half-hour about do it?” Jeannie nodded. “Good. That’ll just about give me time to walk to the town hall, ask a question or two, and walk back . . . maybe the long way, around the square. I don’t get into town much,” she explained for Marion’s benefit.

  “Just think what she’s missing!” Jeannie said. “The once-over from the old geezers on the bench in front of the hardware store and being deafened by the noon fire whistle. I mean, who needs New York City!”

  “Hush up, Jeannie,” Tessa advised amiably.

  “Maybe you’ll find that Lloyd’s changed his mind,” Jeannie murmured, no longer joking.

  “Yeah, and maybe I’m really the vision you say I am.”