But she was too busy missing Clint to feel any satisfaction in the project’s success. Even her worry that Mona would steal her spot had been bumped way down on her list of concerns. Instead, she had taken up a new hobby.
Most of the ranches had porches, and weather permitting, Meg had fallen into the habit of sitting on them in her spare time. None had quite the relaxing vista she’d found at the Circle W, but whenever she sat on a porch, she felt close to Clint.
She liked to imagine him sitting on his porch thinking of her at the same time she was thinking of him. The more she indulged this new hobby, the more she craved it. And the knot of anxiety about her career that had kept her in constant motion for the past several years began to disappear.
On the last afternoon of their odyssey, Meg sank onto a wooden chair on the porch of the Double D ranch in Greybull, Wyoming. From the porch she could see the Big Horn Mountains and she pretended they were the Santa Ritas that Clint saw from the front of his house.
She could use a cup of his industrial-strength coffee, because she was a little tired and had to be upbeat for the last finalist party tonight. After the broadcast in the morning, she and Jamie would return the live truck they’d rented in Cody and fly back to New York.
Jamie came out of the house with two mugs of coffee and sat down in the chair next to hers. “Not as strong as Clint’s, but then, nothing is or ever will be.” He handed her a steaming mug.
“Clint’s coffee is now the gold standard for coffee strength.” She didn’t mention what else about the man had become her new criteria for excellence. It involved some private moments with Clint that Jamie still didn’t know about.
“I talked to Alison just now.”
Meg quickly turned to face him. “Really? Is this the first time since Arizona?”
“First time.” Jamie sipped his coffee. “I promised myself I’d wait until we were headed home, and then make the call sound completely casual, like one friend to another.”
“And?” Meg felt Jamie’s excitement across the short distance between them.
“She dumped the other guy.”
“Woo-hoo!” Meg leaped to her feet and went over to land a big smacker on Jamie’s cheek. “That’s awesome! What did you say?”
“I said that was interesting.”
“Ah.” Meg smiled and sat down again. “Playing it cool?”
“Sort of. I told her you and I were headed back tomorrow and I’d probably have tons of things to catch up on, so I’d call her when I got settled in.”
“So you’re going to call her like two minutes after you walk in your front door?”
“Probably.” He grinned. “But I was proud of myself for not giving away the farm right away.”
“I’m proud of you, too.” She reached over and squeezed his shoulder, although she could barely feel him through the heavy coat he was wearing. She’d had to buy herself a ski jacket back in Colorado, and she wore it now for what might be her last porch-sitting episode in a long time.
He glanced over at her. “Glad to be going home?”
She turned and focused on the shadowy mountains on the horizon. “I hate to say this, but I’ve gotten used to this slower lifestyle. I’m wondering how I’ll do once I’m back in Manhattan.”
“You’ll be acclimated in ten minutes.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of, that this peaceful feeling will disappear the minute I step off the plane at JFK.”
“I’ve had enough peaceful feelings to last me a lifetime. It’s been fun, but I get a buzz from all that big-city energy.”
“I thought I did, too.” She took another drink of her coffee. “Now I’m not so sure.”
“Does Clint have anything to do with that?”
She turned to look at him. “Why would you think that?”
“Masculine intuition. Plus the fact that Tuck asked me if I thought there was any chemistry, and then I saw the way Clint was looking at you during that wild and crazy broadcast the last morning we were there. And you sniffled all the way to Phoenix, and if it was a cold like you said, it was the shortest cold in history.”
Meg sighed. “Okay, there’s something there, but it’s hopeless.”
“Nothing’s ever hopeless, Megster.”
“Some things are. He’s refused to consider putting even his big toe into New York, and I might like more porch-sitting in my life, but I’m not ready to spend all my days on a ranch in the middle of nowhere so he won’t ever have to leave his comfort zone.”
“I’m glad you said that, because if that was the plan I’d have to take drastic measures. Kidnap you or something until you came to your senses. You’d go nuts being a full-time rancher’s wife. Besides, it isn’t even his ranch.”
“But it should be.” Frustration gripped her again. “And he could take a giant step toward getting it back if he wanted to.”
“Which means it’s out of your control.”
“Uh-huh.” She took a sip of coffee. “I hate when that happens.”
CLINT WATCHED Meg’s last broadcast, which was beamed from Wyoming. In fact, he’d watched every broadcast beginning with the one in Colorado right after she’d left the Circle W. He’d rearranged his entire weekday mornings so that he didn’t miss Meg and Mel. Once the other guys found out, they’d joined him.
So that had become the routine—everyone gathered in the living room with a cup of coffee to catch a five-minute glimpse of Meg. Other than Clint, Denny paid the most attention, because in three days he’d be leaving for New York. Clint kept thinking about that during the last broadcast.
In three days, Denny would be on the set with Meg. He’d talk with Meg and reminisce about her days at the Circle W. She might ask about Clint and she might not. Clint didn’t know how he’d stand it, knowing Denny was there and he wasn’t, and wondering whether they talked about him at all.
Then after that he’d have to deal with Denny coming home again, having spent time with Meg. Another nightmare, as Denny would undoubtedly rave on about this and that in New York. Denny would know something about the city, about the studio. Clint would still be ignorant of all of it.
In the days following Meg’s departure, Clint had spent his time taking greenhorns on trail rides and performing routine maintenance on the barn and corrals. He’d also confirmed with a vet that Gabriel needed rest before he could be put back in training. That dream was on hold indefinitely.
But in the late afternoons, Clint usually found himself on the porch drinking coffee and thinking about Meg. His conclusions made him uncomfortable, because he was beginning to realize that he cared more about Meg than he did about his dignity. He hadn’t known he’d miss her this much, hadn’t known the ache would be constant every waking minute. He had no idea how or if they could create a life together—he only knew they had to try.
She’d shown that she had the courage to come into his territory when she didn’t know the first thing about it. She’d been willing to try anything, from his kick-ass coffee to sex in the shower. Then she’d battled her fear of horses in order to do the job she’d been hired for. Thinking of that, he felt like a yellow-bellied coward by comparison.
At the end of Meg’s part of the show, Clint shut off the TV, as he always did. The boys didn’t care about seeing Mel and Mona. They’d figured out that Mona had a mean streak and they could hardly wait for Meg to reclaim her co-host chair.
As the men started to leave for their various daily chores, Clint called them back. “I…uh, have something to discuss with you.”
They each turned, and all of them looked nervous.
“George has a buyer, right?” Jed said. “I knew it had to happen some day.”
“That’s not it,” Clint said. “Tuck knows about this, but maybe not the rest of you. When I accidentally ended up on TV that morning with the horses, I stirred up some interest with the people who run Meg’s show.”
“Oh, we all know about that,” said Denny. “Tuck said not to mention it, though, ‘cau
se it makes you real mad.”
“Only because I’m an idiot,” Clint said. Meg had told him he’d admit that some day. “Look, Denny, I don’t want to steal your thunder, but I’m going with you. I’ve decided to be on that show, if they still want me.”
Denny beamed. “Awesome! I don’t stand a chance, but you do! The way we all see it, if you win, you’ll get a bunch of money and maybe you can get the ranch back. Then our jobs will be safe.”
Clint felt like the most selfish fool in the world. He’d been so caught up in preserving his precious dignity that he’d forgotten how an infusion of money could potentially protect his ranch hands. “I don’t know if this will turn into a gold mine or not,” he said, “but I’ve decided I’d be crazy not to go for it.”
“That’s great, boss.” Jed came over to shake his hand, followed by José, Denny and finally, Tuck.
“You’re doing the right thing,” Tuck said, “for a bunch of reasons.” He didn’t say one of the reasons was Meg, but Clint knew that’s what he meant.
“Are you gonna call Meg and tell her?” Denny asked.
Clint pictured doing that and rejected the idea. Advance warning would allow the studio to gear up for him and create more hullabaloo. He’d have enough trouble getting through this without giving them the chance to make it even more embarrassing.
“No,” he said. “I think it’ll be more dramatic if I just show up with Denny.”
“It’ll be dramatic, all right.” Jed glanced at the ancient television set. “Wish we had something better to watch it on, though.”
“Are you kidding?” José said. “We’ll get the Steak Out to open up the bar for the show. Everybody will want to be together to watch it, anyway.”
Jed smiled. “Great idea. So, boss, while you’re on the show, remember, the whole town of Sonoita will be watching you!”
Clint’s stomach began to churn. Exactly what he didn’t want, but it wasn’t as if he could stop them. Then he remembered Meg sitting bravely on Prince, white-knuckled and determined. He ignored his butterflies and smiled back at Jed. “I’ll do my best to make you all proud.”
MEG SAT in the makeup chair as Blythe finished with a dusting of translucent powder. The preshow makeup session seemed more tedious than it had been before she left. In fact, the parade of morning performances stretching into the future made Meg sigh.
Although Mona had tried to worm her way onto the show and cut Meg out, she hadn’t succeeded. Her tactics had become so obvious that even Mel had commented on Mona’s unbridled ambition. So Meg had the co-host spot sewed up. And she didn’t want it anymore.
She didn’t know what she wanted, exactly. Something in show business, but maybe not a daily TV show. She’d achieved her goal, and now she needed a new goal. Oh, and Clint. She still needed him as much or more than ever.
But she couldn’t leave the show until the Hottest Cowboy in the West contest was wrapped up. She owed the contestants that much. They’d helped her pull the ratings up, and besides, they were good guys. Even Bill wasn’t so bad, just immature.
By now they’d all be in the greenroom. She wanted to pay a quick visit there before show time, to say hello and make sure they were all happy with their hotel accommodations and the tours the studio had set up for them. They were a fun bunch. She could imagine them in there joking around as they waited for the big moment.
Blythe had unsnapped the makeup cape and Meg was about to get up when Sharon came barreling through the door, her cheeks pink with excitement. “He’s here!”
Meg went blank. Was there a celebrity guest she’d forgotten about? The Hottest Cowboy thing was supposed to take up most of the show. They had booked a promising new country singer named Brad Daniels to tie in with the cowboy theme, but Sharon wouldn’t get that worked up over him.
“Your cowboy!” Sharon said. “The one who held your horse and kept you from getting killed that day!”
Meg felt dizzy. “Clint?” But that couldn’t be right. Clint wouldn’t just show up. She squashed the sudden leap of joy she’d felt, because it was impossible to imagine Clint coming here unannounced. He didn’t operate that way.
She cleared her throat. “You know, when you’re not around them all the time, cowboys tend to look alike. I’ll bet you’re mixing him up with one of the other guys.”
“No, I’m not!” Sharon looked as if she’d won the lottery. “We had seven states, three finalists each, so that’s twenty-one cowboys. Number twenty-two is in the greenroom. And the audience will go crazy when they see him!”
Suddenly Meg had trouble breathing. Clint was really here? Apparently so. And if Sharon thought the audience would go crazy, she had no idea how crazy the co-host was going right this minute. She put a hand to her chest and forced air into her lungs.
“Meg?” Blythe leaned toward her. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” Sharon said. “You look like you’re having a heart attack or something.”
Meg gulped for air, and finally the light-headedness subsided. She smiled at Blythe and Sharon. “I’m fine.”
“Good.” Sharon went back to her clipboard. “Here’s what we’ll do. We can’t include him in the voting for Hottest Cowboy, because we have no time to explain him to the other contestants. But you and Mel can do a special interview with him later. We’ll cut back on the band’s time. Boy, I wonder if this guy realizes he’s about to become a star.”
Meg barely heard her. “If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll pay a visit to the greenroom.”
16
THE GREENROOM wasn’t green. But it could have been purple for all Clint cared. He’d never been this scared in his life, not even when the Brahma bull had come bearing down on him. He’d rather face a herd of raging bulls than the cameras waiting for him out there.
Most of the cowboys were sitting on chairs or lounging on the two sofas at the far end of the room, but not Clint. He felt better standing near the door, so he wouldn’t get surprised by anything. Besides, he didn’t feel entirely welcome in that group. Except for Denny, they all wondered how he fit into the scheme of things, considering he hadn’t been an official part of the contest.
Denny had stuck close to Clint, obviously giving moral support. “Relax, boss.” He clapped him on the shoulder. “Nobody ever died from being on TV.”
Clint glanced over at him. “You can’t tell me you’re not scared. When you’re scared your freckles stand out, and I can see them real plain.”
“You can? Maybe I should ask for some makeup.”
Carlos got up from his chair and wandered over. “Nobody’s putting makeup on me, that’s for sure.”
“I think Bill already put some on,” Denny said.
Carlos snorted. “He would. Notice he’s not hanging out with us. He knows better.”
Although Clint still didn’t have much respect for Bill, if it hadn’t been for that worthless cowboy, Clint wouldn’t be here. Sure, he was shaking in his boots, but he had a chance at making good money and working something out with Meg. She was somewhere in this building. The guys had all speculated on whether they’d see her before the show.
Clint didn’t think so. He remembered how much time she needed to get ready, and she couldn’t afford to run around checking on her guests and possibly make herself late. She was the star of the show, or at least the co-star. Clint understood that Mel was the main guy, but privately Clint thought Meg provided more sparkle. Then again, he was prejudiced.
“Did you know some of us already have fan clubs?” Carlos asked. “I just found that out from Hector over there, who heard it from one of the producers. After the show they’ll give us the mail that’s been coming in, and copies of the e-mails.”
“Whoa.” Denny blinked. “How embarrassing if you guys have a fan club and I don’t.”
“You can have mine,” Clint said. “I don’t want a—”
“Yes, you do,” said Denny. “You want all that stuff, because you can turn it into cash.” He rubbed his fingers togeth
er right under Clint’s nose. “Don’t forget why you’re here, boss. You’re gonna save the Circle W.”
“Right.” And try to save his relationship with Meg. He still wasn’t sure what he’d say to her. He’d rehearsed several speeches, and none of them sounded right.
Carlos looked at his watch. “Shouldn’t be long now. Any minute they’ll—” He stopped speaking at the same moment every man in the room fell silent and those who were seated leaped to their feet.
Clint drew in a sharp breath. Meg. God, she looked beautiful. Much more beautiful than she did on TV, even more beautiful than he remembered from their time together. Her red hair shone in the light and her brown eyes sparkled. Her tailored green suit emphasized her incredible figure. Of course she had silly green shoes to match, shoes that showed off her pink toenail polish.
He wondered what the hell he’d been thinking, imagining that she’d want to work out a relationship with him. She was so gorgeous and famous that she could have anybody. Sure, he might have looked good to her when he was the only option available back in Sonoita, but she was miles out of reach now that she was back in New York.
Still, he was so glad to see her again, if only to say hello, if only to tell her that she’d been right and he was the biggest idiot the world had ever produced. The trip was worth it just for that. And he expected to get more for his effort, a chance to stockpile some money so eventually he could buy back the Circle W. By making that opportunity possible, she’d given him more than he deserved.
Her gaze swept the room and her amazing smile touched on everyone equally as she greeted each cowboy by name. Then she came to Clint. “What a surprise!” she said.
He wondered if he was the only one who noticed the slight quiver in her voice.
“I…uh, changed my mind.” Boy, didn’t he sound smooth.
“That’s great! The audience is going to love this!”
The guy named Hector stepped forward. “You know, Meg, any one of us could have settled your horse for you. But we didn’t get the chance.”
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