Cowboy Unwrapped

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Cowboy Unwrapped Page 18

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

“I know you liked him.”

  “That has no bearing on the matter.”

  “It has all kinds of bearing, Mom. I wouldn’t want to get serious about someone you hated.”

  “I doubt that you would, but thanks.”

  Amethyst sighed with relief. She never remembered loving her mother more than now. “Since we’ve made it through all that, let’s get some coffee. And a doughnut. I ate all Mrs. Gentry’s cookies and I crave something loaded with sugar, something that’s really bad for me.”

  The mood lightened considerably after that and she was able to describe the antics of her voice students without bursting into tears. They talked about the art project her mother planned to assign her high school students when classes resumed in January.

  As they hugged goodbye outside the coffee shop, her mother glanced at her. “You said you wouldn’t be seeing Jake when you go to Jackson Hole, but couldn’t he come to your performance if he wanted to?”

  “He won’t. He knows I wouldn’t like that.”

  Of course now that her mom had planted the idea, she kept thinking about it during the time leading up to her departure for Jackson Hole. The prospect of Jake showing up at her gig didn’t horrify her. She wouldn’t ask him up to her room again, but seeing him wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. She’d missed him.

  On the day she had to leave, she put her suitcase in the car and turned back to look at the Victorian. How would it feel to leave this house for the last time? She’d have to turn over her key to whoever rented her half of it and that would be the end of making breakfast in the kitchen, working in her studio, enjoying the front porch in the summer.

  Her stomach hurt at the thought of giving up this house. A few months ago she’d even considered approaching the landlady about selling it to her. She probably had enough savings for a down payment. Except that was the money earmarked for her first few months in LA.

  She climbed into the SUV and backed out of the driveway. One thing she knew for sure—if she went to LA she’d take her crystal. But she might not have a spot where it would work. Her kitchen was on the east side and the double window was perfect. No telling what she’d find in LA.

  She had to drive down Main Street to get to the highway and she pictured the SUV loaded with all her stuff instead of just one small suitcase. She’d really be leaving. No more coffee dates with her mom and no more shopping in the stores she knew so well. No more recognizing people she knew and stopping to chat.

  Usually she played music when she drove, but on this trip she preferred silence. She needed to think. The closer she came to Jackson Hole, the more she wanted to talk with Jake again, but she didn’t have time before the show. If he came to the performance, that would be great. She had something important to tell him.

  LA was a dream she’d nurtured ever since Professor Edenbury had told her that she had the necessary talent to be a star. Everybody wanted to be a star, right? She’d imagined it from the time she’d been a little kid with a karaoke machine.

  Professor Edenbury had given her dream the stamp of approval but, come to think of it, what had he ever done that was brave or risky? He had a great voice but he’d never tested himself on Broadway. He’d never moved to LA to explore the possibilities there. Near as she knew, he’d never recorded a single song.

  Instead he’d expected Amethyst to do that. She’d seen him as a powerful mentor, but now she viewed him as a puppeteer, manipulating his most gifted students to achieve what he’d never dared to try. She was herself, not a puppet.

  Because she was her own person and not some mannequin to be shoved around according to her mentor’s ambitions, she could rethink her career path. She could realize the value in teaching kids, although she’d learned the hard way not to push them into venues that didn’t work for them. She could begin to value the gigs she booked even if they were within the state and not in some exotic location.

  She had to face the truth. She pulled great satisfaction from performing in front of a crowd of Wyoming natives. A sophisticated crowd in an LA nightclub didn’t excite her at all. Even Jackson Hole was a little rich for her blood, although she recognized the opportunities in such a cosmopolitan town.

  Then why was she angling for a lucrative recording contract, a fifteen-city tour and international fame? She’d been taught to want that. She’d been conditioned to believe that if you had the necessary talent, you were obligated to take that ability as far as you could.

  Her father had that kind of talent. She’d heard him play and he was easily as good as the big names. But he’d chosen a different path. At one time she’d viewed that as copping out, but she didn’t see her father’s decision that way now.

  Success came in all sizes and shapes. Sometimes it flashed on the giant screen in Times Square. Sometimes it came in the form of enthusiastic applause from the crowd at the local Elks Club. Amethyst thought about how Jake measured success—a family saved from a house fire, a child plucked from a backyard swimming pool.

  She thought about Professor Edenbury and the fire in his eyes as he’d dictated her marching orders. Go out there and knock ’em dead, Ferguson! Make your old professor proud!

  A weight lifted from her shoulders as she realized that she didn’t have to obey his marching orders, didn’t have to live his dream. Instead she could live her own. She could stay in Sheridan.

  The decision made her giddy with relief. She jabbered away with the registration clerk while checking into the hotel. Smiling, he agreed with her that Wyoming was a fabulous place to live. Then he gave her the room key and an envelope with her name on it.

  Her heart leaped. Jake? She tore into it while she was still at the desk and glanced at the signature without reading the note. Not Jake. It was from the guy in charge of booking entertainment at the resort. Damn.

  She stuffed the unread message into her purse and wheeled her suitcase over to the elevators. After she’d settled into her room, hung up her dress and taken off her shoes, she pulled the note out of her purse.

  Amethyst—a guy from LA named Gerald Kincaid will be in the audience tonight. He’s heard one of your demos and wants to talk with you. I gave him a table near the stage. Thought you’d want a heads-up.

  Bob

  * * *

  IT HAD BEEN a busy night at the fire station with numerous calls, which was tough luck for the people involved but a blessing for Jake. If he’d had to sit around watching TV or playing cards, he’d have been tortured with thoughts of Amethyst. She’d been on his mind during every idle moment since leaving Sheridan, but tonight was worse because she was a short drive away.

  So he’d welcomed the sound of the alarm because whenever he climbed on the truck, nothing else mattered. After an easily contained kitchen fire that was more messy than dangerous, he returned in a state of exhaustion, which was also welcome.

  Sleep had been elusive the past few nights but maybe he could sneak in an hour or two in the firehouse after a hot shower. As he was putting away his gear, his buddy Steve grabbed him by the shoulder.

  “Somebody’s here to see you.”

  “To see me?” He used the front of his T-shirt to wipe some of the soot from his face. “At three in the morning?”

  “Yeah. A woman. Said she needed to talk to you. Chief stuck her in his office so you two could have some privacy.”

  Dear God. Had to be Amethyst. “Thanks.”

  His exhaustion vanished as adrenaline kicked in. Maybe she’d come to ask for the key to his apartment because she’d changed her mind about spending time with him. She might want another sexy encounter before they said goodbye forever.

  He wished he had the willpower to reject the idea, but he’d take what he could get. He’d missed her like the very devil ever since driving away from Sheridan the day after Christmas.

  Whenever he was working in the sooty
stench of a fire, he forgot about Amethyst. But the minute the crisis had passed, his brain was flooded with images of her.

  Seeing her again was like a mirage in the desert. He wanted to believe she was here but couldn’t quite accept the reality of it.

  Hurrying to the chief’s office, he walked through the open door. Because he didn’t know what to expect from this meeting, he closed it behind him.

  She leaped up and tears glistened in her eyes. “Oh, Jake.” Flinging herself into his arms, she peppered his grimy face with kisses. “I love you so much.”

  “I love you, too, but I’m filthy.” Catching her around the waist, he eased her away from him. “You’ll ruin your sparkly dress.”

  “I don’t care.” She gazed up at him, her mascara smudged and her makeup streaked with tears. “I came over here as soon as I could, and you were gone, and I’ve been waiting, and I had the most horrible thoughts about something happening to you.”

  “Nothing’s going to happen to me. I’m tough and I’m careful.”

  “I know, but...did you get the job in Sheridan?”

  “I did, as a matter of fact. I start in two weeks.”

  “Good. That’s so good.”

  He took a deep breath and tried to calm his racing heart. “Why are you here?”

  She swallowed. “A talent scout from a recording studio came to my performance.”

  “Is that right?” He pumped as much enthusiasm into his response as he could manage. She’d come to share her good news and he would, by God, be happy for her. It was what she wanted. “That’s great! Do you have an offer?”

  “He made me one and—”

  “That’s terrific!” Love was so weird. His own heart was breaking but he could still feel joy for her. “You did it. Now you’ll have—”

  “Jake, I didn’t take it.”

  The statement was like a smack upside the head. “Why not? Was it a crap deal?”

  “No, it was a very good deal.” She drew in a shaky breath. “That’s what I came to tell you. I’m not going to LA. I want to stay in Sheridan.”

  He stared at her as he tried to process that. “But if you’d be earning money from the get-go, that takes away a big part of the risk. Why the hell aren’t you going?” He had an awful thought. “Is something wrong with one of your parents?”

  “No.”

  “Then why not go?”

  “Because I don’t want to. Professor Edenbury’s dream is not mine.” Smiling, she tucked a finger under his chin. “You’ll catch a fly.”

  He closed his mouth but he was still stunned that she’d refused a contract. “Are you sure about this? Going there with no guarantees was one thing, but this deal is exactly what you wanted.”

  “I know. But on the drive over I realized that you were right. I’ve let Professor Edenbury’s expectations have too much power over me. I love Sheridan, love being near my parents, love teaching my students, recording in my studio and living in that house. Why would I leave everything I love?”

  “Beats me.” He began to understand the enormity of her decision. And the rightness of it. This could be good, very good.

  “I have a great life. And I’m telling you that because I’m not staying just because I want to be with you.”

  “I’m glad. Then you’d be trading your professor’s expectations for mine.”

  “I promise that’s not the case. But unless you’ve made other living arrangements, you can be my roommate if you want.”

  “Oh, I want.” A surge of incredible joy made him forget about her sparkly dress and he pulled her close. Then he realized what he’d done and released her again. “Maybe this should wait until I’m—”

  “Oh, no, you don’t.” She plastered herself against him. “I realize you’re on duty and all I can have is a kiss for now, but I’m hoping for more later. Lots more.”

  “Count on it.” He lowered his head and brushed his mouth over hers. “I’m all yours.”

  “Then I have everything I could ever want.”

  “Me, too.” He kissed her with tenderness, gratitude and as much passion as he dared. But mostly he kissed her with all the love in his heart.

  Epilogue

  MATT FORREST HAD made some very good friends during his three years in Tinseltown, but when he signed a contract for his first major movie role, the two people he most wanted to tell were a thousand miles away. Thank God for cell phones.

  He called his foster mother first because she was better at keeping her phone nearby. His foster father seldom carried one while he handled his daily chores, but Rosie liked being able to get calls wherever she happened to be. She would love getting this one.

  “Matt!” She sounded excited already.

  “Hey, Mom! Are you at home?”

  “I most certainly am and I’ve been on pins and needles waiting for the news. Did you get it?”

  “I did!” He’d gone back to his tiny apartment to make the call so they could hear each other. But he had to hold the phone away from his ear for a while because the only mother he’d ever known was going apeshit on the other end. He sat there grinning while she whooped and hollered. Yeah, this was the reaction he’d been looking for.

  His friends would be happy for him. Some might be jealous, but they’d be nice about it. The peripheral friends might wonder if they could capitalize on this development. But Rosie had pure joy going on without a single agenda.

  Finally she wound down enough to have an actual conversation. “Okay, tell me everything.”

  “It’s a Western. I think I mentioned that before.”

  “Yep.”

  “We’ll be shooting on location in Utah beginning next month.”

  “How about Wyoming? We have great scenery for a Western and we’d get to see you!”

  “Logistics. Economics. Utah’s closer.”

  “I suppose.”

  “My costar is Briana Danvers.”

  “Wow! She’s a big deal!”

  “You’re telling me. I still can’t believe it. A big-budget film with a costar like Briana. I’m so flying you and Dad out for the premiere.”

  “Oh, my God, Matt, a premiere. This is incredible. Can I tell your dad or do you want to call him yourself? I know he’s hard to get on the phone.”

  “You can tell him. You can tell anybody you want. It’s official!”

  “I can’t wait to spread the word. Everyone is going to be so excited! Briana Danvers as a costar! I really like her, but I’ve had a crush on her husband for years. Talk about a gray fox. Clifton Wallace has it going on.”

  “People around here really love him, too. From what I hear, he’s a class act. I’m hoping he visits the set once in a while. I’ve never met him but I admire his work.”

  “People are going to admire your work, too! This is such wonderful news and you deserve it after all you’ve been through.”

  “Thanks, Mom. It feels really cool.” He sighed. “Very cool.”

  “I’m sure it does. And I’ll bet you have some other calls to make and some partying to do.”

  He laughed. “You know me too well.”

  “Go have fun! We’ll celebrate the next time you make it home.”

  “We sure will. Give my love to Dad.”

  “I will.”

  “Love you, Mom.”

  “Love you, too, sweetie.”

  He disconnected and sat for a minute savoring the thrill of being able to make that phone call. He’d envisioned it for so long and had started to wonder if he was kidding himself about his prospects. At his lowest point he’d seriously considered moving back to Sheridan.

  H
e could forget about that now. But this day would never have arrived without the years spent at Thunder Mountain Ranch and his foster parents’ belief in him. Although they’d be proud of whatever he accomplished, he loved being able to give them something to really brag about. Their son was about to become a movie star.

  * * * * *

  Read on for an extract from ONE HOT DECEMBER by Tiffany Reisz.

  One Hot December

  by Tiffany Reisz

  1

  VERONICA “FLASH” REDDING slammed her locker door shut for the last time. She pulled on her leather bomber jacket and popped her collar to hide the red welt on the side of her neck. Trading her steel-toed work boots for bright red Pumas, she put the boots in her backpack, slung her backpack over her shoulder and took a quick steadying breath. She could do this. More importantly, she had to do this. She would have told herself to “man up” but with the way the men in her life were behaving lately, manning up would be a step down. She’d have to woman up instead.

  She found her boss, Ian Asher, standing behind his desk, poring over a set of blueprints for their next construction project—a small and desperately needed medical clinic in the rural Mount Hood area. A handsome thirtysomething black man stood next to him—had to be Drew, their recently hired project manager. She listened as he listed off changes they’d have to make to comply with new building regulations that might pass the Oregon legislature next year. Flash stood in the doorway while she waited for them to acknowledge her existence. Considering how good Ian had gotten at ignoring her, this might take a while.

  “What if these regs don’t pass?” Drew asked Ian. “You really want to redo the whole plan to comply with building codes that aren’t even on the books yet?”

  “They’ll be on the books,” Ian replied.

  “You sure?”

  “He’s sure,” Flash said from the doorway.

  Ian glanced up from the blueprints and glared at her.

  “Flash, how can we help you?” Ian asked. He did not look happy to see her.

 

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