Best of Cowboys Bundle

by Vicki Lewis Thompson, Barbara White Daille, Judy Christenberry, Christine Wenger, Shirley Rogers, Crystal Green, Nina Bruhns, Candance Schuler, Carole Mortimer

  “Prince is going to be magnificent.”

  Jamie raised his eyebrows. “A shot of Clint’s coffee is what he needs. I’m hoping he doesn’t decide to lie down in the middle of the segment.”

  “Good Lord, do you think he might?”

  “No, no.” Jamie rubbed her arm. “Not a chance. Didn’t mean to worry you. Just kidding around.”

  “Don’t kid around about horses.”

  “Right. Go get miked and climb aboard that hay-burner. We’re getting close.”

  “I know.” She leaned over and kissed Jamie on the cheek. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  “That’s good, ‘cause you’re stuck with me, now. I’m even starting to like this Home on the Range routine.”

  “Me, too.”

  “You?” His mouth dropped open.

  “Surprise, surprise.” Then she walked over to the live truck to get her mike.

  CLINT COULDN’T BELIEVE the chaos taking place on his peaceful ranch. Okay, it was George’s ranch, now, but it was still Clint’s in spirit. What an insane amount of racket. The Circle W hadn’t been this noisy during branding.

  Nostalgia gripped him. He missed those days more than he generally admitted. Mostly he tried to accept the situation as it was and live within the confines of reality. But he’d loved growing up on a working ranch and wished that his kids could do the same.

  And here came the very woman he would love to have kids with. He pictured a couple of cute little carrot-tops running around, full of the devil, bound for glory. She’d teach those kids to go for what they wanted.

  But her children would grow up in New York, and that was the sticking point. He sighed. He might imagine them chasing each other around this ranch, but it was total fantasy. Would never happen.

  Meg stopped six feet away from Clint and Prince. “I need to get on,” she said, not looking happy about it.

  “Then you’ll have to come a little closer, unless you’re figuring on taking a flying leap into the saddle.”

  “Very funny.” She took a deep breath and walked slowly up to Prince. “Anybody got a ladder?”

  Clint looped the reins over Prince’s neck and cupped his hands about three feet off the ground. “Put your foot right here, grab the saddle horn and I’ll boost you up.” She had on another pair of her ridiculous open-toed, backless shoes, but once she was in the saddle, it wouldn’t matter.

  “Will he stand right there while I do that?”

  “He will.”

  She lifted her foot and placed it in his cupped hands. “I should have worn looser pants.”

  And he’d been trying so hard not to notice the snug fit. Now he couldn’t help it. The way those pants outlined her tush made his mouth water.

  “Here goes nothing.” She swung up into the saddle and landed with a little thump.

  Prince broke wind.

  “Tell me he’s not going to do that on camera,” Meg wailed. “I’m sure they all heard that back at the studio and are killing themselves laughing.”

  “Yes, they are!” Jamie called over, a huge grin on his face. “They’re loving the Megster on a musical horse. Okay, you two, bring that show on over here in front of the camera. We’re live in five.”

  “Shove your feet in the stirrups,” Clint said. “I’ll lead you over there.”

  “It’s hard in these shoes.” Staring straight ahead, she kicked around, trying to feel for the stirrups, and almost lost a shoe.

  “I’ll do it.” He positioned one foot in the stirrup and ducked under Prince’s neck to get to the other side. Then he knotted the reins and handed them to her.

  Her hand quivered as she took them.

  “You okay?”

  “I…guess so. I made the mistake of looking down while you fixed the stirrups. I’m really far off the ground. If he bucks me off…”

  “He won’t buck you off.” He wanted to put a comforting hand on her knee, but he couldn’t do that in front of everybody. He tried to get her to meet his gaze, but she was looking everywhere except at him. “You can do this, Meg,” he said in a low voice. “Piece of cake.”

  “I don’t know.” Her glance darted here, there, everywhere, as if trying to find a way to escape.

  “Look at me.”

  Finally she did.

  “You’ll be fine,” he said, telegraphing confidence as best he could.

  Some of the panic left her eyes. “Okay.” She gulped softly. “Let’s go.”

  After taking hold of the bridle, Clint started over toward Jamie, who waved them in like a guy on a tarmac berthing a jumbo jet.

  “Good,” Jamie said at last. “If you could lead the other three into position the same way, I’d appreciate it.”

  A chorus of groans from the finalists told Clint they didn’t want to be led into position.

  Jamie turned to them. “Trust me, you don’t want one of those valuable animals getting crossways with some of this expensive equipment. All sorts of bad things could happen.”

  The guys muttered in protest, but Clint could see the wisdom of having him act as a handler. He glanced up at Meg. “Hanging in?”

  She nodded, although she had a white-knuckled grip on the saddle horn.

  He hated to leave her, but Jamie was counting down the minutes. Clint brought Denny in first, because he trusted Denny and his horse, Slick, to behave themselves. He took Carlos and his pinto next, because the horse seemed less wild than Bill’s crow-hopping Arab.

  Finally he took hold of the bridle of Bill’s horse and started over. “Be sure and keep a tight rein on him,” he said.

  “Spoilsport.”

  “I mean it, Bill. Meg’s not used to horses. And like Jamie said, there’s all kinds of valuable equipment here. Don’t screw around.” He wished he had more faith in Bill’s good judgment.

  “I’ll be good, Mommy,” Bill said as Clint led him into position beside Carlos.

  “Okay, folks, ten seconds.” Jamie glanced at Prince. “Meg’s horse looks embalmed. Can we do anything about that?”

  “Just tug on the reins a little, Meg,” Clint said.

  She lifted the reins, but if there was a tug, Clint couldn’t tell. She was probably too afraid to give a real tug, in case something horrible might happen.

  “Oh, well,” Jamie said. “Five seconds.” He held up his hand and counted silently down to one. Then he pointed at Meg.

  Her smile bloomed. “Happy Trails, Mel and Mona! I’m here to introduce the three hottest cowboys in Arizona!”

  Clint had to hand it to her. She was still scared to death, judging from the way she clutched the saddle horn, but she’d overridden that fear to put on a show for the camera. No doubt about it, she was a born performer.

  Prince, unfortunately, was not. He looked bored by the entire thing. But Clint would rather have him standing there looking bored than moving around restlessly like the other three in the lineup.

  Meg introduced Denny first, and then Carlos. By the time she got to Bill, his Arab was really starting to cut up. Clint thought Bill was egging the horse on for the effect. What a jerk.

  “So, Bill,” Meg asked, “what makes you special?”

  “Meg, everything about me is special,” Bill said. “Just ask Firebolt.” On cue, his horse reared and pawed the air.

  Jolted out of his doze, Prince threw back his head and hopped sideways. Meg screamed. In an instant, the lineup dissolved as horses plunged this way and that, with Denny and Carlos cussing a blue streak.

  Clint dodged flailing hoofs to get to Meg, and somewhere in the process he lost his hat. But he managed to grab Prince’s bridle and got a tight grip on the horse’s nose, forcing him to stand quietly. “Easy, boy. Easy.”

  “We’re done!” Jamie said. “Off the air! Guys, control those horses, or somebody’s gonna get hurt. Maybe even by me. Bill, you’re on my shit list, man. What a dumbass stunt.”

  Clint glanced up at Meg. She was gulping air, and makeup couldn’t disguise that she’d gone white
with terror. If Clint hadn’t had his hands full, he would have cheerfully pulled Bill from his horse and beaten the tar out of him.

  But Clint had more important things to do, like making sure this incident hadn’t made Meg’s fear worse. “You did great,” he said. “You hung on.”

  She swallowed. “I didn’t do great. I screamed. That made everything worse. I…I ruined the broadcast.”

  “No, Bill ruined the broadcast.”

  “Hey, nothing’s ruined,” Jamie said, walking toward them with his earphones around his neck. “I just got the word. Everyone loved it. The phones are going crazy.” He picked up Clint’s hat from the ground, dusted it off and handed it to him. “Mostly they loved you, buddy, the hero who leaped in to save Meg.”

  For the first time, Clint realized he’d appeared on camera. He’d been so desperate to help Meg that he hadn’t even thought about it. Well, hell.

  “America wants you in the running,” Jamie said. “They want Bill dumped and you put in his place.”

  Clint stared up at Meg. She gazed back at him in silence, obviously unwilling to say anything to influence him.

  Jamie clapped him on the shoulder. “What do you say? I mean, that was great TV. You could really capitalize on it.”

  Clint continued to gaze at Meg. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m not interested.”

  15

  MEG KEPT HERSELF busy until she and Jamie were packed up and ready to leave. Bill had apologized, and she’d decided to keep him as the third finalist. He’d get his trip to New York, but she could guarantee he wouldn’t win. She’d talked to Sharon at the studio, and Bill was not popular with viewers.

  Clint, however, was. Too bad. The guy couldn’t see his way clear to go on the show, so that was that.

  And they wouldn’t be having a touching Hollywood goodbye, either. Half of Sonoita was standing around when she and Jamie walked out to the live truck, which Jamie had parked in front of the ranch house. Clint was there, too, but she didn’t focus on him for fear that she would cry.

  Instead she spent time saying goodbye to Tuck, Jed, José and Denny. She’d be seeing Denny in just over two weeks. Although Tuck had suggested she come back for a visit soon, she knew that wouldn’t happen.

  Finally she turned to Clint. “Thanks for being a good host.” She held out her hand and allowed herself one more look into those gorgeous blue eyes.

  He shook her hand briefly, and his gaze gave nothing away. “You’re welcome. It was great having you here.”

  As a lump started to grow in her throat, she smiled and turned away. “Bye, everyone!” Then she jumped in the live truck before the waterworks started.

  All the way to Phoenix, Jamie asked her what was wrong. She told him she’d caught a cold. She didn’t think he bought it, but after a while he left her alone.

  By tonight, they’d be in Colorado, and the process would start over. Somehow she’d have to pull herself together, because at the moment her on-camera persona didn’t mesh with the way she felt inside. She was paid to be pert and bubbly. Instead she felt like a two-day-old glass of champagne. She wished she’d never laid eyes on Clint Walker.

  CLINT HELD his act together until the white van pulled away from the house. Then he strode to the barn, saddled Nugget and headed out. He rode all afternoon, until darkness forced him back to the barn. Just his luck he ran into Tuck coming out of the barn.

  “Where did you go off to?” Tuck asked. “I rode all over the place looking for you. I just came back a little while ago, myself.”

  “I had to clear my head after having the TV people here for two days,” Clint said. “Is anything wrong?”

  “I thought you’d want to know that the folks from Meg’s station in New York called. They really want you on that show.”

  “They called here?” He’d thought it was over, now that Meg was gone. Obviously not. Maybe his life was screwed up for good.

  “They called again because after finding out you turned them down, they want to give you a bonus if you’ll appear on the show. They wouldn’t tell me how much they’re offering, of course. But they said you might want to consider getting yourself an agent.”

  Clint stared at his foreman. “An agent? Why the hell would I need an agent?”

  “Don’t bite my head off. I’m just the messenger.”

  “An agent!” Clint shook his head. “All I did was get Meg’s horse calmed down!”

  “According to the woman I talked to on the phone, I think her name’s Sharon something-or-other, you made quite an impression doing that. I guess it was a real Kodak moment. They think you need an agent because you’ll be fielding other calls, other offers.”

  “That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard in my life.” Clint undid the cinch on Nugget’s saddle.

  “So they’ve all gone home by now, but this Sharon person gave me her cell-phone number, and she said for you to call anytime. I suppose they stay up ‘till all hours back there, but I thought you’d want to call before it got too late, with the time difference and all.”

  Clint pulled the saddle off and plopped it on a wooden rack by the door. “Tuck, I appreciate you taking the message, but I won’t be calling her back. I have no intention of getting involved in any of it.”

  Tuck cleared his throat. “Uh, would that have anything to do with whatever went on between you and Meg?”

  Clint whirled to face him. “Nothing went on between me and Meg.”

  “If you say so.” Tuck gazed at him with a knowing expression.

  “What…what do you think went on?”

  “Well, I have no hard evidence, if that’s what you mean. But I’d be willing to bet that the two of you got friendly while she was here. Jamie thought so, too.”

  Clint was dismayed to feel himself blushing. “We…um…it wasn’t really…aw, hell, Tuck. It’s over and done with now, anyway.”

  “Too bad.”

  “What do you mean too bad? She’s a TV star, in case you haven’t noticed. There’s no room in her life for somebody like me.”

  “Or no room in your life for somebody like her?”

  “She wanted to make me into a trained monkey. Can you picture me strutting around in front of a camera?”

  Tuck rubbed his chin. “It’s not so bad, once you get used to it.”

  Instantly Clint felt horrible for saying that. Tuck had been proud of his moments on TV, and Clint had made it sound like a ridiculous thing to do. “With you it was way different,” he said. “She wasn’t parading you out there as a contestant for the hottest cowboy. Your deal was more dignified.”

  Tuck burst out laughing. “Is that what’s standing in the way of you taking those offers and making good money? Dignity?”

  Clint was highly offended. “What if it is?”

  Tuck shook his head. “It’s a mighty high price to pay for dignity, if you ask me. You lose the money and the girl. I suspect you could stand both in your life.” He started chuckling again. “Dignity. Lord Almighty.”

  “You don’t understand.” Clint felt as if the whole world had decided to beat up on him today.

  “No, I probably don’t. Probably too old.”

  “Besides, we don’t need the money. Gabriel’s going to come through for us.”

  Tuck sobered and glanced over toward Gabriel’s stall. “That’s something else we need to talk about.”

  A wave of uneasiness passed through Clint. “What do you mean?”

  “Gabriel’s favoring his left front foot. I think I’ve pushed him too hard, because I wanted him to be ready for the start of the season in Tucson. But he’s young, and he’ll be fine if we ease up.”

  “Ease up?” Clint didn’t like the sound of that. “For how long?”

  “Hard to say. But I can’t promise you he’ll race this spring. You could ruin him. I didn’t want to bring this up until after we got through the TV deal, because I knew you’d be disappointed.”

  Disappointed wasn’t the word. Devastated was more like it
. Clint had been counting on Gabriel more than he’d thought. Now the horse was turning into an iffy proposition.

  Tuck clapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry too much about it. We’ll see what the next few weeks bring.” He looked toward the house. “Well, I think José’s made cordon bleu for tonight, so I’m heading up for dinner. Should we set you a place at the table?”

  Clint didn’t feel like eating, but if he said no, that would confirm that he was either a lovesick fool or a guy who couldn’t take bad news about his horse. So he’d eat dinner as usual and act as if everything was great. “Sure. I’ll be right up.”

  After Tuck left, Clint turned to Nugget and reached up to scratch behind the horse’s ears. “Too bad you’re not a race horse, buddy. Without a race horse, I really will look like an idiot. But I can’t see myself on TV, either. It just wouldn’t be dignified. I’m sure you get that, even if nobody else does.”

  Nugget blew air through his nose, which didn’t sound like support for Clint’s position. Apparently even his horse was against him.

  THE DAYS PASSED more quickly than Meg had expected. She wished the studio had come up with this bright idea in the summer, though, because she nearly froze to death in Colorado and Montana. In Montana they’d had to broadcast in the snow.

  Although hitting cowboy-oriented states in alphabetical order meant more crisscross travel, the concept seemed to appeal to viewers. New Mexico was a little warmer, but not as balmy as Arizona. She remembered with longing the warm sunshine in Sonoita as she and Jamie headed to Oklahoma and then back down to Texas.

  She thought of Clint with more than simple longing. Missing him desperately seemed to be what she did best these days. A thousand times she considered calling to find out if he’d had a change of heart, but she couldn’t risk it. He might erase the tiny glow of hope that kept her going.

  Her days were filled with watching cowboys perform, conducting interviews and broadcasting the results to a waiting audience that grew daily. The show’s producers were ecstatic about the jump in ratings. Meg knew she should be ecstatic, too.