by Heidi Hormel
* * *
IN HIS HOTEL ROOM, Jones made the call he’d been putting off.
“Yes?” Iain said when he picked up.
“It’s Jones.”
“I know.”
“I’m ringing to let you know—”
“That there was no treasure. No cave.”
“There was a cave.” Buzzing silence stretched out. “I’ll return home shortly and need to speak with you about my position with the university.”
“What about the woman?”
Jones gripped the phone hard. “I want to talk about what will be expected of me when I return.”
“I want to talk about the woman. The one who has acted as your guide.”
“It’s not her fault I didn’t find the cache.”
“Just as I thought.”
“Just as you thought what?” Calling Iain had been a mistake, as usual. The man could irritate Jones with two words.
“You have feelings for her.”
What the hell did Iain mean by that? “Whatever I’m feeling is none of your business.” Then Jones couldn’t help himself from adding, “Just because you’re my big brother does not give you the right to comment on my love life.”
“So you love her. Why are you coming home?”
He remained quiet because he and Iain did not share confidences like two schoolgirls. “I need to work on my career. To do that, I need to be in Glasgow.”
“You don’t.”
“Are you saying I don’t have a job?”
“I’m saying that you don’t need to be in Scotland,” Iain said in his patient older-brother voice, the one he’d used to teach Jones exactly how to use a trowel at a dig when they were eight and six.
“My visa is being pulled and my research into legumes is near enough to complete. Why wouldn’t I return to Scotland?”
“If I have to tell you, then you’re not as smart as you’ve always told me you were.”
What angle was Iain playing? Their interactions had become over the years that of professional colleagues, not siblings. Certainly not anything like caring for one another or showing an interest in each other’s private life.
Iain’s sigh was clear even with the spotty connection. “I might have been wrong about your studies in the States and those folktales. It might be that Glasgow could use such a branch. We should be expanding our pool of knowledge, not trying to restrict it.”
Wait. Had his brother just told Jones that he was right? Maybe not right, exactly, but something close to that? “What do you want me to do?”
“You don’t need me to tell you that. But I will say I hope to not see you anytime soon. I’m ringing off now.”
Jones stared at the phone, expecting in bad-movie style to wake up from a dream. Had his brother told him... No matter. He couldn’t tie Lavonda to Arizona. She deserved to follow her dream, too, even if it was halfway around the world. He had to go back to Scotland, right? No matter that he knew now this—Arizona, the West—was as close to home as he’d get without Lavonda. How did he do that? Get a new visa? Except he’d burned his bridge with Stanley and the university. Neither Glasgow nor Iain were an option, despite his brother’s new attitude. Could he become a cowhand? Isn’t that what men who moved West did? Yeah, in 1880. Staying in the desert was the first decision in years that felt right. Just as it felt right when he was in Lavonda’s arms. Double crappedy crap.
* * *
JONES HAD FLED like a thief in the night, but that would not stop Lavonda from fixing the disaster he’d gotten himself into. If she did that, the ache right around her heart would go away. Keep tellin’ yourself that, baby girl, her mama’s voice rang out in her head.
Spence insisted that Lavonda could not marry Jones in absentia as she’d read about in a historical romance or maybe seen on PBS about Henry the VIII. The attorney didn’t get that Jones was thinking like a cowboy rather than an academic. She needed to give him and his career a chance by giving him more time in Arizona, which equaled marriage.
Lavonda would call Olympia and get her friend to work on her husband, because that’s what a professional PR barracuda did—exploited every resource they had.
“Hello, MacCormack Spice Ranch,” Olympia said in a sultry voice.
“Excuse me?”
“Sorry. Going a little crazy here. The puppy just had surgery and I have to keep him, Cal and the baby calm so that the puppy doesn’t rip out any stitches. The MacCormack family does not do calm well.”
“Speaking of family... I’ve been speaking to Spence.”
“No.”
“You don’t even know what I’m going to ask.”
“He’s my husband. He said you’d come up with an idea that was creative but crazy.”
“It’s not crazy,” she corrected.
“Really? Marriage in absentia?”
“It would fix everything.”
“You’re definitely a fixer and you have the best of intentions. But you know what that paves? The road to h-e-double toothpicks.” Olympia went on after the seconds-long pause. “Since I’m already in the doghouse with you, I’m going for broke. I know you were upset because Jones lied to you and the university. You need to think about why you were so upset. Really, he just didn’t tell you everything, just like you’ve been known to do when you worked at all of those companies. Do you think there is something else going on? Like if he wasn’t revealing everything to you, he might not care for you the way you do him?”
Lavonda had a quick answer for her friend. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. Jones and I did not have that kind of relationship.” The silence on the other end of the line made her uncomfortable, giving her time to think. “He did all of this to restore his reputation, which is an excellent goal. I just want to make sure he gets that, which means staying in Arizona until he finds the...well, a very special archaeological site.”
“What else? You’re leaving something out.”
“That’s it.”
“Lavonda, you’ve helped everyone else. You’ve got to help yourself now. That’s all I’m going to say because you know what you need to do.” Olympia hung up.
Lavonda wanted to pound the phone into dust and scream that other than the green-card wedding, she had not one solitary stinkin’ clue what to do. If she’d known what to do, she would have done it.
She wandered out to the barn to visit with Cat and Reese. The university had agreed to allow her to take the two animals with her. What she was going to do with them was still up in the air since she could be on her way to Hong Kong any day now. Lavonda had been told by Gwen, now that the papers were signed, that the university would be turning the ranch over to a conservation group interested in studying solar power and the barn was being converted into a lab. There’d be no place for the creatures. The horses already had a new home. They had been good trail animals so she hadn’t been surprised by that. The goat would stay to keep the brush in check. The bottom line was that she’d fallen in love with the cat and donkey and didn’t want to be parted. Why was it so hard for her to just say that?
She didn’t want to marry Jones for the green card or so he could stay and polish up his reputation or even find the darned cave, its treasure and archaeological fame. She wanted to fix everything for Jones because she loved him. She drew a deep breath, the first one since she’d seen the cave was empty. She had been disappointed for him because she loved him...obviously. So how did she fix this?
Maybe this wasn’t a problem to fix. Instead, it might be one of those things where she had to be brave and just hold on for the full eight seconds. Yeah. That made so much sense.
She pulled in a deep breath, held it, blew it out and let herself just feel. Yep. She loved him. Damn it. What did he feel, though? He liked her. She was sure of that. Could he more th
an like her? Maybe.
Okay. She’d figured out one piece of the puzzle. What did that mean?
It meant that she had to put on her big-girl spurs and take a chance...a chance at humiliating herself by telling him how she felt. Of course, if he said he loved her, too, then what? One baby step at a time.
“Road trip, you two,” she told Reese and Cat, who didn’t even have the decency to look at her.
Chapter Sixteen
“Déjà vu all over again,” Lavonda said to no one but herself as she drove up to the town of Angel Crossing’s arena, home today to the dusty regional Highland games. Her Mini Cooper sighed to a stop. Pulling a trailer, even the tiny one that comfortably fitted Reese, had been a strain. She should have waited until Olympia or someone else could have picked up the animals, but Lavonda had feared losing her nerve. Jones had already rejected her... Not her...the fake marriage. She’d thought proposing had been tough. This time she had to put everything on the line. Eight seconds. She could hold on to her backbone for eight seconds to tell him how she felt and ask him to... She hadn’t quite worked that out.
“Yee-owl,” Cat said from her carrier in the backseat. She’d been loudly voicing her displeasure for the past thirty minutes.
After parking in what shade there was, Lavonda plucked Cat’s carrier from the car and ignored the escalating yowls. Reese quickly backed out of the trailer when asked so he could be staked by a tree and near to his buddy. Lavonda fussed over the knot, working up her cowgirl cojones to make her last-ditch, Hail Mary pitch to Jones.
The Scotsman was competing again with the crew from the university so their lime green would be easy enough to spot. She walked with purpose through the parked vehicles, channeling everything she’d learned working at the big corporations. Acting with confidence gets you the worm when you never let them see you sweat. Maybe that was one of Mama’s sayings? Or a deodorant commercial?
Lavonda heard the shout of voices as she got closer to the arena. One used for rodeos obviously, with the chutes, but today tricked out with everything Scottish. Bagpipes wailed and she heard the grunt of a competitor. She stopped. Dear Lord, what had she been thinking? She shouldn’t be here. She should wait and—
She heard an earsplitting bray and turned to see Reese—with Cat clinging to his back—racing into the arena.
She’d tied the donkey up, with Cat locked up in her crate. How had this happened?
More shouts from the arena unstuck her feet and she raced after the animals. Reese brayed again. She added speed.
She got into the small dusty oval with bleachers on one side. Men in kilts filled the space and the little donkey raced from grasping hands. She kept her eyes on the animals. Wait. Where was Cat? The feline no longer clung to the donkey’s back. No! She kept moving as the men milled and shouted. Couldn’t they see that they needed to be quiet? She couldn’t believe there wasn’t one horseman in the entire bunch who knew what to do. She stopped in the middle of the arena and watched Reese buck away from grasping hands. “Stop chasing him,” she shouted. No one heard her and now the announcer was yelling over the sound system. Great. Reese was not a rodeo animal. The noise and the people were scaring him. She tried to get one of the big men’s attention. Finally, someone caught Reese’s halter, which only made the little donkey lash out with hooves and teeth. Men scattered.
“Reese!” She heard the familiar voice, followed by a yowl, then another ear-piercing bray of joy. Through the plaid and shoulders she caught a glimpse of red hair. Jones. “Reese,” he said again. “Come see your mate.” Enough men moved that she saw Jones in full kilt and a billowing white shirt.
Another long yowl and she finally saw Cat, standing on Jones’s shoulders, her front paws planted firmly on top of his head, as if she’d found her own personal fire tower. Reese had stopped racing and stood staring at his favorite thing in the world: Cat. He shook his head and glared at the men nearby. They all stepped back but stayed in a rough circle. Good, she thought. Everyone had quieted and now moved slowly inward, making the circle a little smaller, herding Reese to the center. She pushed her way forward, using an elbow to move men to the side when she couldn’t find a small enough space to wiggle through. She finally got into the open circle.
“Reese,” she said firmly. He kicked out with both back legs to let her know that he wasn’t ready to be reasonable. She stopped and watched in disbelief as Jones put a piece of cookie on his head to keep Cat in place. She yowled in delight—although it sounded a lot like her cranky meow—and attacked the treat. Jones stood still, holding his hand out to Reese. She moved a little closer, watching the burro’s hindquarters carefully. Reese took three steps closer to Jones, then brayed. Cat looked at her friend with slit-eyed superiority. Reese snorted and looked to his side. Lavonda feared he’d bolt again with the group so close. She opened her mouth, but Jones spoke first.
“Come on, my lad. Cat weighs a hundred stone, and she’s getting spit in my hair.” Lavonda sidled closer. She knew Jones had caught her movement. He put another bit of Hobnob on his head. Cat pounced and lost her balance, digging in her claws to keep from falling. Jones winced but didn’t move. “Reese,” Jones said. She saw a man across from her reach out his hand and she shook her head. But while Reese watched him, she got close enough and captured his halter in a smooth movement. Reese shook his head but settled, until Cat leaped away. Reese nearly jerked her from the ground, until Jones’s firm grip covered hers.
He nodded over his shoulder. “Get Cat. I’ll keep him in hand.”
In a moment of high-noon-sun clarity, Lavonda understood exactly why she loved Jones and she couldn’t let him go. Her jolly green Scot didn’t need her to fix things for him. She wanted to do that for herself because she didn’t know how else to show him that she cared...loved him. Her stomach sank. It was like being dropped on top of the biggest, baddest bronc.
What kind of woman thought about love like this? A cowgirl. That’s who. And she wasn’t running from that part of herself anymore, just like she wasn’t going to run from Jones or this feeling, the scariest most wonderful feeling in the world, even though it made her just slightly nauseous. So much was riding on the next...eight seconds...because that’s all the time she needed to tell him she loved him.
* * *
THE ANNOUNCER ADMONISHED everyone to get out of the ring so the games could continue. Now that Jones wasn’t holding back a sneezing fit or staying out of the way of Reese’s hooves, he wondered why Lavonda was here. And why did she have the menagerie with her? He kept his eye on her and the donkey even as a father with two young boys came up to apologize. They had heard Cat and Reese making a racket. They’d believed that they were saving the animals by releasing them. Jones told the kilted boys to get an adult the next time. He also told them that he’d pass along their apologies to the lady. Finally, he moved along after a quick thanks to the other competitors so he wouldn’t lose sight of his pixie.
By her Mini, a tall blond man in a tilted cowboy hat leaned against a small-animal trailer as if he belonged there. Jones wanted to talk to Lavonda without an audience. He slowed and Reese brayed again, broke away and raced to him. He straightened and braced himself for the burro’s enthusiastic greeting, the earlier thrashing-hooved menace gone. The animal had become particularly affectionate after Jones had saved him from the arroyo. He kept his eyes on Lavonda, even when he grasped Reese’s halter to prevent him from head butting him.
“Cat’s in her carrier in the car,” Lavonda said, her voice strange. “I can take Reese.” She stepped forward. Reese brayed and showed his teeth.
Jones cleared his throat in a manly fashion. “He’s fine. I—”
“This is the Scotsman?” asked the man with a set of his chin that reminded Jones of Lavonda. Her brother?
“What gave it away?” Lavonda asked. “The kilt or the fact that he’s even taller than you.”
Jones nodded and took his hand. The words were friendly, but he wasn’t so sure the look in the other man’s eyes was.
Lavonda stepped forward and Reese backed up. She set her feet in a don’t-mess-with-me stance. “What are you doing here, Danny?”
“I’m here in my official capacity as mayor of Angel Crossing,” Danny said. “What are you doing here? Thought you were all settled at Hacienda Bunuelos?”
“No.” Lavonda looked away from her brother.
“Really? Jessie made it sound like you’d found a place to live. That you were going to settle down and—”
“I’m not. Okay?”
Danny turned to Jones, his eyes under the shadow of his hat brim steady and unfriendly. “What about you? What are you doing here...with her...donkey?”
“Just helping out.” Jones didn’t need to explain anything to this man. This was between him and Lavonda.
“I know you’re not as dumb as you’re acting right now, Danny. Move along. Nothing to see here.” Lavonda didn’t look as confident as she sounded.
“I’m glad you admit I’m not dumb. I want to know why this yahoo followed you out here. Shouldn’t he be in there, swinging his skirt?” He never moved his gaze from his much smaller sister.
Lavonda stepped into her brother. “It’s a kilt and that was a childish insult. Go be mayor. Cut a ribbon or something.”
“I don’t like his look. I don’t think I should leave you alone here with him.”
Jones had had enough. “Look, mate,” he said, moving into Danny’s line of sight. “We don’t need your permission to have a private discussion.”
“I beg to differ,” Danny said.
Lavonda squeezed herself between Jones and her brother. “I want to talk with Jones and, Danny, I want you to go away.”
“As Arnold says, ‘I’ll be back.’” Danny did a slow cowboy stroll toward the arena, then said over his shoulder, “I’ve got a shotgun in my pickup.”