A Cowboy’s Worth: The McGavin Brothers

by Thompson, Vicki Lewis

  “She has that much influence?”

  “It’s subtle, but yes, she does. The McGavins are the most prominent family in town. With that name, you’re not just connected to Eagles Nest, you’re connected to its royalty.”

  He smiled. “Good to know.” He grasped the polished brass handle on the front door. It’s oval glass insert was etched with an image of a bear drinking a pint. “Is that the Guzzlin’ Grizzly?”

  “It is, now. Roxanne created that logo a year ago and it’s been a smash hit. You can get t-shirts, mugs, sweatshirts—you name it. The GG Country store will be on your right as you go in. Do you want to shop?”

  “Not now, but I will before I leave town. I’ve already made the most important purchase of the day.” Yet he might never use any. If he decided to leave tomorrow, he’d turned this alleged affair into a one-night stand.

  Regardless of how his relationship with Catriona had turned out, he’d never been a fan of a one-and-done sexual experience. That smacked of racking up conquests and he loathed that mentality.

  If he took a woman to bed, it was with the hope they’d enjoy many more encounters, maybe even discover a richer emotion than lust. He hated the idea of initiating something today and ending it tomorrow when he flew back to Scotland. He thought more of Damaris than that. He thought more of himself, for that matter.

  Maybe she’d be fine with one night together, though. He wouldn’t know until he asked. And he needed someone to talk to about the problems at home. Someone he trusted.

  Business was light and a Please Seat Yourself sign was posted inside the door.

  “Choose your spot,” Damaris said. “We can sit anywhere since there’s no live entertainment at the moment.”

  “Let’s take that little table in front by the dance floor.”

  “No one will be performing until tonight.”

  “That’s fine with me.” He had information to impart and live music would only muck that up.

  “Are you considering dancing to the canned music on the sound system? Because much as I enjoyed that waltz, I’d feel on display at the GG. It’s a way bigger venue.”

  “I didn’t plan to dance.” Note to self. Spontaneous dance invitations don’t always work for Damaris Gataki. “I just like sittin’ where it’s less claustrophobic.”

  “Okay, then. The two-top works fine.”

  “What should I do with my hat?”

  “Up to you. The tendency in the GG is to keep it on. That’s the safest place for it.”

  “Then I’ll follow that custom.” He pulled out her chair for her. Once she was tucked in, he took the opposite seat. “I was thinkin’ a pint and some chips, but if you’re hungrier than that, order away.”

  “That sounds like plenty, but do you mean potato chips or French fries?”

  “I mean the kind that are cut up on the spot and tossed into hot oil. What do you call that?”

  She smiled. “Fries. Over here, chips are thin slices of potato that are baked or fried, and usually they’re mass-produced in factories and come in a sealed plastic bag.”

  “I got some of those in the airport in Chicago. I’d rather have the hot kind.”

  “Good man. So would I. Before we order, though, turn around and look at the art on the wall behind you. Quinn created that.”

  He swiveled in his chair, sucked in a breath and got up to walk closer. “Quinn did this?”

  “Yes, and when it sells, he’ll replace it with another. He has a studio behind his house and he spends nearly every morning there.”

  Rory pushed back his hat and gazed at a magnificent image of two mountain lions on a ledge, one reclining and one standing watch. It had to be at least six feet square. “What’s this technique? I’ve never seen it before.”

  “It’s called scratch board art. Quinn can explain it better than I can, but he covers the surface with black ink and then uses various tools to create what you see.”

  “Incredible.” He walked over to the image and noticed a discreet price tag attached to a plaque. The work was called Mated for Life. It cost a small fortune.

  He repositioned his hat. “And I thought he was Kendra’s stable hand.”

  “As I said, he’s a bit more than that.”

  “Clearly.” He returned to the table. “Eagles Nest has depth.”

  “Yes, it does. It’s taken me a while to realize it, myself.”

  “Admiring Quinn’s work, I see.” Jenny, one of the women from the table he’d occupied at the wedding, brought them glasses of water. She looked to be in her fifties, a down-to-earth lady who didn’t worry about her hair turning gray.

  He’d warmed to her immediately. “When I met Quinn yesterday,” he said, “I had no idea there was this whole other side to him.”

  “He won’t tell you, either. He’s modest, our Quinn.”

  “Evidently.”

  “So! Welcome to the GG! I just have to say that sitting at your table last night was a highlight.” She turned to Damaris. “Isn’t this fellow a hoot and a half?”

  “He is. I’m showing him around town today.”

  “Most everything’s closed up, though.”

  “I know. I’m giving him an overview.”

  Jenny nodded. “Good idea. Then he knows which shops he wants to come back to. What are you two having?”

  Rory gestured to Damaris. “You first.”

  “I’ll have a frosted mug of that light ale you have on tap. And an order of fries.”

  “Perfect. Rory? How about you?”

  “The same.”

  “The fries will already be salted, but should I bring vinegar with the order?”

  He smiled. “You remembered what we talked about last night.”

  “I did, yeah.” She looked pleased. “Vinegar, then?”

  “I’d love that.”

  “Thought so.” She hurried away.

  “I’d forgotten about the salt and vinegar on fries. I’m a catsup girl all the way.”

  He shuddered. “I can’t imagine how that tastes.”

  “Then you should try it. Today. I can’t let you go home without eating at least one fry dipped in catsup.”

  “It sounds godawful. Looks that way, too.”

  “Says the man whose country invented haggis.”

  “For the record, I don’t eat haggis.”

  “No? What kind of a Highlander are you, then?”

  “The non-haggis eatin’ kind.”

  “And the powers-that-be let you get away with that?”

  “I don’t go around announcin’ it.”

  “You just did.”

  “To you. I don’t announce it back home.”

  “Why not?”

  “I’d be askin’ for some haggis-eating Scotsman to insist he can teach me to like it. I don’t want to create that challenge for any of my countrymen and women. They’d fail and I’d feel like a turncoat.”

  “Goodness. That seems like a truly weighty problem.”

  “Aye. Ranks right up there with solving the mystery of black holes. It did occur to me that you might have chosen Ring of Fire to honor your black hole research and not to celebrate my embarrassin’ encounter with Ellie Mae.”

  “No, it was all about you and Ellie Mae.”

  “And how could you resist? The image of me shopping for condoms with the help of an eighty-something woman must have been too temptin’ to ignore.”

  “Yep.”

  “They’d better be all that she promised, too.” He took a sip of his water. He was stalling because he didn’t want to go into this. They were having such a bonnie time…

  “Rory, what is it?”

  “A bloody difficult topic.”

  “I had a feeling. You’ve had tells all over the place.”

  “And that’s why I’d never play poker with anyone, unless it was strip poker with you.”

  She gazed at him. “You don’t want to play poker with me.”

  “I believe you.” She had the greenest eyes. He liked
that she’d chosen to wear her glasses instead of contacts for this outing, as if she wanted him to see her real self. “We’ve established you’re much smarter than I am. Then again, if my goal was to lose that game, I’d be all in.”

  Her cheeks flushed. “How you talk.”

  “Maybe we should go back to Pills and Pop and buy a pack of cards. I’ll bet they have—”

  “You’re avoiding the issue.”

  He sighed and leaned back in his chair. “So I am.” What a damn mess. “I had a phone conversation with my brother Aleck today.”

  “When did you talk with him?”

  “While you were in the shower.”

  “And?”

  “Catriona and her father are threatenin’ to sue me for breach of promise. By leavin’ the country, I made myself look guilty. Aleck is ready to fight for me, but for that to be effective, I need to go home.”

  “When?”

  “He recommended comin’ as soon as possible, so he can document everything leadin’ up to this point. He wants me to book a flight out tomorrow if I could find one with an empty seat.”

  “Oh.” The flash of dismay in her eyes warmed his heart. But she doused it immediately. “You should do whatever you need to do.”

  “That’s not as easy as it sounds.”

  “Why not? You’re being attacked and you need to defend yourself. It’s a no-brainer.”

  “But it means leavin’ you. We’d only have a short time to—”

  “I know what it means. I never expected a happily-ever-after with you, so what difference does it make to us if you leave tomorrow or a week from tomorrow? No matter how you slice it, we still have an expiration date.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Damaris refused to allow her disappointment to show. So what if their affair had shrunk from approximately a week to one afternoon and night? Time was relative. One night or one week. Still finite.

  “I haven’t said I would go.”

  “We both know that’s the best course of action. You need to save the career you love. In your shoes, I’d go back.”

  “Here we are!” Jenny appeared, all smiles, with two foaming mugs of ale and two orders of crisp fries. “Bon appetite!”

  “Thanks so much, Jenny.” Damaris did her best to return Jenny’s smile.

  “What in blue blazes happened here?” Jenny glanced from Damaris to Rory. “I leave two happy people and come back to the most down-in-the-mouth couple I’ve seen in the GG for months. What’s the deal?”

  “I might have to leave tomorrow,” Rory said. “I’m needed back home.”

  “But you just got here!”

  “I know, but there’s a bit of a guddle that has to be handled.”

  “A guddle?” Jenny looked puzzled.

  “Aye. In other words, a mess.”

  “What a wonderful word! I’m adopting it for my own. But I hate that you have a guddle that will take you away so soon. Isn’t there any way to handle it from here?”

  Damaris had picked up her mug of ale, ready to drown her sorrows, but she put it back down. She’d accepted this turn of events without firing a shot. Had she given up too easily?

  Jenny balanced her tray on her hip. “I mean, we have all sorts of ways to connect these days—phones, email, even face-to-face chats online. Surely—”

  “Jenny, you’re brilliant.” Damaris exchanged a glance with Rory. “That just might work.”

  He gave a slow nod. “I see where you’re goin’ with this, lass. It could at least buy some time.”

  “It could.” Damn it, she had given up too easily. Checked her brain at the door when her emotions had become involved. “Thank you, Jenny.”

  “Glad to be of help. Next time either of you end up with a guddle, let me know.” She grinned and walked away.

  Damaris looked across the table at Rory. “This could be the solution that satisfies everyone.” Especially her. And that, damn it, was important, too. “If Aleck needs documentation, he can record a video chat with you. That would be a faster, more efficient way for him to compile what he needs, anyway.”

  “If he agrees to it. I think part of me goin’ back is symbolic.”

  “You will go back, but why does the opposition have to know exactly when?”

  “That’s a good point. When are you leavin’?”

  “My flight’s on Saturday morning.”

  “Then I’ll fly out Saturday, too. That’s assumin’ Aleck goes along with this alternative.”

  “Why not? A chance to spend time with your Montana relatives doesn’t come along every day. No telling when you’ll be back to see them again. Forcing you to leave when there’s a reasonable alternative would be—”

  “He knows that wouldn’t be the whole reason.”

  She blinked. “What do you mean?”

  “I told him about you.”

  “You what?”

  “When he asked me to come home right away, I started hedgin’. Talked about how much I was enjoyin’ the visit with our cousins. He asked if there was a woman involved.”

  Her stomach churned. “Why would he do that?”

  “He knows me well enough to pick up somethin’ in my tone.”

  “Does he hear that something in your tone often, then?”

  “No, lass, he doesn’t.” He reached across the table and took her hand in both of his. Then he lowered his voice. “I don’t blame you for thinkin’ that, since I’m here because of that situation with Catriona and now you and I have…plans.”

  “I shouldn’t care if you’ve had a string of lovers a mile long.”

  “But I think you do. I see it in your eyes.”

  “I’m the one who mentioned having an affair.”

  “And I’m the one who said I didn’t want to start somethin’ that would have to end in a week. I haven’t had a string of lovers. Ladies do seem to like me, but I don’t play fast and loose with them.”

  She took a shaky breath. “I’m going to choose to believe that.”

  “Please do.”

  “What does your brother know about me?”

  “That you’re a hard-workin’ theoretical physicist who’s taking her first vacation in four years. And that I’m honored to be the man who’ll be allowed to share it with you.”

  “And what does he think of that?”

  “He’s hopin’ I’ll cut my visit short, which would reduce the chance of me gettin’ into another guddle.”

  “Then when you talk to him again, please assure him there will be no guddle. I understand the parameters. You’ll go back to the distillery career you’re excited about, the one you’ve trained for and I’ll go back to investigating black holes. We’ll think of each other fondly. End of story.”

  “You said we’d keep in touch.”

  Like this? He hadn’t released her hand, and he’d begun stroking the inside of her wrist with his thumb. His gaze had gone all warm and mellow, too.

  She cleared her throat. “We can keep in touch, but realistically, with me being in California and you being in Scotland, it’ll be by email, mostly.”

  “I’m imaginin’ somethin’ a bit more personal.”

  “Oh?” Her heart thumped faster. “Like what?”

  “You said you wanted to keep your connection to this place, and so do I. In that context, keepin’ in touch might mean you’d let me know the dates of your visit in case I could schedule a trip over at the same time.”

  “What exactly are you talking about?”

  He smiled. “I don’t want to lose the connection to this place…or to you.”

  “So you really don’t want an affair.”

  He shook his head. “Neither do you.”

  “You can see into my head?”

  “I can see into your heart.”

  Now her breathing was wonky. “That might be…the most romantic thing anyone has ever…said to me.”

  “Then I’m glad I said it.”

  Jenny whisked by on her way to another table. “Much better.
Much, much better.”

  Damaris looked at their joined hands. “We won’t be able to drink our beer this way.”

  He grinned. “That might be the most unromantic thing anyone has ever said to me.”

  She smiled back. “Yeah, well, I’m a scientist. Deal with it.”

  “Gladly.” He gave her hand a squeeze, let go and picked up his beer mug. “To keepin’ in touch.”

  “To keeping in touch.” She tapped her mug against his. “Whatever that means.”

  “That’s up to us.”

  “I vote for whatever makes us happy.”

  “I’ll drink to that, too.” He sipped his ale. “Nice. Do they brew it here?”

  “Not that I know of. Wouldn’t that require a dedicated space, a relatively large one?”

  “Aye.”

  “They don’t have that, so they must purchase their beer elsewhere.”

  “It’s good, in any case.” He put down his mug and picked up the bottle of white vinegar Jenny had brought with the order.

  “Wait. Don’t put that on yet. To make this a true test, you need to take a fry and dip it in catsup before you sprinkle on the vinegar.”

  “Damn. I thought you’d forgotten.”

  “I don’t generally forget things.”

  “That’s something we have in common, then. The memory of puttin’ that disgusting red stuff in my mouth will follow me to the grave.”

  “Don’t be such a baby. It’s catsup, not arsenic.” She moved her fries over on the plate, grabbed the bottle and created a small dipping puddle in the vacant spot. “There you go.” She pushed her plate in his direction. “And don’t be a wimp. Shove it all the way in.”

  “I love it when you talk dirty.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Boys.”

  He laughed. “Girls.” Then he made a great show of submerging the fry in the catsup. Eventually he lifted it for her inspection. “Good enough?”

  “Yes. Now eat it.”

  He squeezed his eyes shut, opened his mouth and popped the fry inside. Keeping his eyes closed tight, he chewed and swallowed before slowly opening his eyes again.

  “Well? That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

  “It was worse. That’s the slimiest fry I’ve ever had in my entire life.”