High-Riding Heroes (2 page)
Tickled that the show went well, Victoria pushed through the door of the hotel. Buck spied her on her way up to her room and called to her.
“Yo! Vic. Come on over here, girl.”
He watched her cheerfully turn and head back at the exact same time Wes turned from the food bar. He had to swing his plate up and out of her way to keep her from bumping it out of his hand.
11
Joey Light
“Excuse me. I’m sorry.” She laughed, recognizing him and feeling the flush of embarrassment pink her cheeks.
“Seems I’m developing a habit of getting in your way.” A ripple of anticipation rolled through her. She felt like steel being drawn, sliver by sliver, toward a magnet.
Wes grinned and tipped his hat. “Some habits are hard to break. In your case, I hope you leave it alone.”
When they found they were both headed for Buck’s table, Wes pulled a chair out for her to sit. Some earthy, flowery scent reached him as she moved past him and sat down, smiling up at him. A long-forgotten explosion of sensations shot through his body.
Manners. Victoria instantly liked the handsome cowboy whose body she already knew was as hard as a rock, whose smile was spontaneous, and whose eyes were honest and beautiful.
She looked questioningly at Buck when Wes sat down with them.
Buck beamed and grinned, ear to ear, from one of them to the other. And then he announced, “Well, here he is. Vic, meet Wes Cooper. Wes, my new partner, Miss Victoria Eugenia Clay, formerly of Leesburg, Virginia.”
She extended her hand only to have it lost in Cooper’s huge work-roughened one. He clasped her fingers tightly and smiled.
Wes’s interest peaked. So this was Buck’s new partner. Amazing. Simply astounding that he had failed to mention she was a female. On purpose, Wes would bet.
“J. Weston Cooper. Wes. Hello.” Her long cool fingers warmed his hand.
What kind of games was the old man playing with him now? All he had said was that his new partner was stubborn, Eastern, and unwanted.
12
High-Riding Heroes
“Nice to meet you.”
Boy,
she thought,
is it ever.
He was the handsomest man she had ever seen. He was tall, well over six feet. His hair was black with a sprinkling of gray. A well-shaped pair of thick sideburns grew down to his jaw, Clint Eastwood style. His face was tanned and in sharp contrast to his nice white teeth. Slashing cheekbones met near a slightly Roman nose. A strong jaw and chin indicated a stubbornness.
The nice slightly crooked smile hinted of gentleness. And his eyes. Black.
Almost black, beautiful, keen, see-right-into-you eyes. One thing she had learned from life was that you could tell a lot about a man just by his eyes. He seemed to have seen much in his life. At the moment his eyes were glued to her own green ones and causing all kinds of reactions to run along her insides.
“This is the man you wanted. The trainer.” When Victoria didn’t respond right away, Buck added with conviction, “The cowboy to train the boys how to shoot and ride and rope better.”
Bristling, she felt the hair at the back of her neck rise as resentment twisted around inside her. It was her idea! She had planned to start her search for the right man for the job today. She had planned to make him her pet project and now Buck had beat her to the draw. Damn.
“What’s the matter, Vic?” Buck asked, using his chosen name for her. It was only the purely innocent look in his eyes that stopped her from pulling his hat down over his face and strolling away.
“Nothing. I’m just surprised.” She stammered and could have kicked herself.
Annoyed at her quick temper, she folded her hands in front of her and forced them to be still as she rested them on the table.
“I’ve known this fella since he was knee-high to a cactus.” Buck beamed proudly. “Was raised on a quarter horse ranch ten miles up north. His father still puts out the best animals in the country. He’s been in the military as a weapons
13
Joey Light
expert, so he knows about all kinds of guns and rifles…and he just quit the Oklahoma State Troopers, so he’s free.”
Buck sat back, satisfied with himself, and waited for her jubilance. He was still waiting as Victoria merely turned a very forced smile toward Cooper and asked, “Do you need a family-sized trailer or a single?”
Feeling and not liking the ice in her voice, Cooper opened his mouth to answer but Buck beat him to it.
“He wants a room in the hotel here. Said he wants to be on the scene all the time so he can get the feel of just what I want. You want. We want.”
“The hotel has only one working bathroom,” she managed through clenched teeth, her fingers now drumming a rhythm on the dark, scarred table.
“I don’t mind,” Cooper said with all the innocence of a babe. And the slyness of a cougar, she judged.
The smile on Cooper’s lips was one of quiet amusement. He looked from one to the other and just sat back in his chair. It was becoming quite clear to him that Buck hadn’t been completely open with him when he offered him this job. Or was
offered
the correct word? Coerced? Cajoled? Hoodwinked? Buck’s story had been one of desperation. He needed Wes’s expertise immediately or this horrible partner of his would take over. He claimed he only allowed a partner to come in because Glory Town needed money. He hadn’t thought that partner would actually make a physical appearance and be a hands-on associate. And then Buck had gone into more detail about just what it was he wanted Wes to do. Now Wes was truly confused, but it wasn’t up to him to decipher Buck’s motives. He’d accepted the job of tutor and partner-chaser-away and he’d see it through. Only, there was a niggling question in the back of his mind. Did he really want to see this pretty lady turn tail and run?
14
High-Riding Heroes
“Why did he quit the police force?” she asked Buck, defiance clear in her voice.
“Who knows? Who cares? He’s just what we need. Rides, ropes, rodeos, shoots.” Buck sipped his coffee.
She stole his orange juice and took a gulp. Anything to keep her anger at bay.
“I thought I was going to hire the man we needed. You didn’t even give me a chance to look around.”
“I would’a if I thought you knew where to look. You’re green to these parts and you made it sound like we needed someone right this minute. Like it was some dang emergency.”
He grinned at her, the light glancing off the gold filling in his tooth.
“I was going to interview, see what they had to offer. This is an important step. We have to make sure we have the right man or we’ll just be wasting our money.” Her shoulders sagged a little. But only for a minute. She straightened up.
“You think I ain’t capable of knowin’ if this is the right fella? I just told you.
I’ve known him all his life. He’s good at what he does. He
is
a cowboy, so I know he can do the job and, boy, can he make a horse do what he’s told.”
“I’ll just bet he sings and dances, too.” Victoria pushed her chair back to leave them but Cooper’s voice stopped her. It was smooth and rich, like hot fudge syrup.
“As a matter of fact, I do.” A slow grin spread across his face. He was almost sorry he was finding all this so amusing. Almost.
Victoria glared at him. She had forgotten he was sitting there. Disconcerted, she stood and offered her hand again. “I’m sorry. I’ve been rude. It was just that you…all this just happened so quickly. Welcome aboard, Mr. Cooper.”
“Wes.”
15
Joey Light
“Yes, Wes.” Cool and aloof, Victoria regally made her way out of the dining room.
Just what I need. A superhero. A genuine cowboy who’s good at everything. He
probably whistles and swaggers when he walks, too.
Outside, Victoria walked purposefully up the road. The town functioned as usual, oblivious to the turmoil and resentment in her heart.
Two of the men rode through the street, their paint horses at a walk, the men exchanging small talk. The blacksmith shop was in operation, shoeing one of the horses. Children rolled hoops down the road and one little boy had his Matchbox cars lined up under the wooden boardwalk. The owner of the general store washed windows while his wife swept the walk free of the stubborn red dust that would simply blow back across the boards in a little while.
The tourists milled here and there.
It was as it must have been over a hundred years before. Nothing had changed since yesterday. The town, the re-enactors, the visitors, yet she felt defeated.
Water troughs offered relief for the horses that were tied here and there to the hitch rails. The saloon doors swung closed after the barkeep sloshed water while emptying out a pail and finished mopping the floor.
After only a few minutes in the presence of J. Weston Cooper she realized he might just be the flashy showman this town needed. He seemed to blend, to mix in so completely with the surroundings. She wondered how she could doubt that Buck had made a sound decision. She shrugged in irritation. He was undermining her, making her presence here uncomfortable. She took a good long walk around the town, making mental notes of changes she wanted to make, improvements she saw that needed attention, that she would see to even if no one else did.
16
High-Riding Heroes
Taking a deep breath, she wandered off the grounds of Glory Town. Half a mile out, she climbed a small hill and looked all about. The Wild West. Untamed.
Oklahoma. She couldn’t prevent the smile from forming on her lips. It was beautiful out here. The tall grass, the prairie, the rolling high ground. The low, meandering countryside, unobstructed, unblemished by the passing of time. As she’d become accustomed to, she set her mind free, allowing her imagination to explore.
The red man. Kiowa. Apache. Arapaho. Shoshoni. Crow and Blackfeet.
White man. Ranchers. Farmers. Schoolteachers. Preachers. Shopkeepers, healers, pioneers, and outlaws. All brave and dauntless. All together, mixed and mingled, joined in the ageless expansion of time. And the souls. Still hovering, wandering, and haunting. Traditions and legends handed down from generation to generation.
Glory. Victory. Defeat. Death and destruction. Growth. Life. Learning.
From her vantage point she could make out the groan of a tractor from a farm a couple of miles away, hear the song of tires on the highway, hidden by the tree line. A train announced its passage with a shrill whistle. The roofline of a small development appeared tiny and far, far away. Looking down on Glory Town, she could almost believe she was really in the year 1872. Over the years the sun had faded it. Rain and humidity had warped and darkened the boards.
The blue northers churned in, the steam-rolling winds harvesting the dust and rain to reap mud, splattering the countryside, dropping temperatures fifty degrees in fifteen minutes, challenging Glory Town to remain unresponsive for the next fifty years.
Victoria could see it so clearly. Prairie schooners bumping across the terrain.
Children running alongside. Horses under saddle being guided across the hill.
Mustangs running wild and chasing that free will.
17
Joey Light
Pulling a piece of grass and twirling it between her fingers, Victoria began the walk back. Determination drew her taller. No one was going to spoil this for her. Glory Town was half hers. Five weeks ago she had gotten off the plane with one hand holding her suitcase and the other over her queasy stomach. A greenhorn. A tenderfoot. She’d come a long way and worked hard at it. She wanted desperately to fit in. To be one of the guys.
Later, more relaxed and resigned to the fact that Buck had won again, she squared her shoulders and turned back toward the hotel, certain they would be gone by now. She had some serious thinking to do.
Pushing her way through the hotel doors, Victoria snatched a freshly made English muffin smothered in butter and a carton of orange juice and a glass. She headed for her room upstairs, which served as both her office and sleeping quarters.
When she had first moved in, she had pulled the huge wooden rocking chair over by the window so she could watch the goings-on as she worked.
The room was large but quaint. It needed work. Lots of it. The faded wallpaper curled in places near the seams and the carpet showed more hardwood floor than not. After exchanging her period costume for jeans and a white cotton shirt, she made sure the dress was neatly hung in the closet.
Victoria sat near the window with her glass of orange juice and rocked hard, trying to direct her temper elsewhere and bury her resentment.
Buck was an old goat, she had to remember that. She had to keep in mind that Buck hadn’t accepted her as a partner yet, not seriously anyway. And he had just snatched her first chance to prove that she could do the job. She felt sabotaged. Damn him.
It had seemed very strange, at first, that Victoria didn’t even know she had an uncle living in Oklahoma until the day the letter came. It turned out he was 18
High-Riding Heroes
sort of a black sheep in the family, and since her father had died twenty-six years before, no one seemed inclined to mention his older brother. Of course, Buck was going to resent her inheriting his crusty old partner’s half of Glory Town. It was rightfully his.
Interviews for the new show at the saloon were scheduled for six tonight and she needed to decide what kind of a show she wanted to produce. Maybe Buck had gotten J. Weston Cooper in here to stage all the routines, but at least she could handle the saloon performances.
She would just search until she found some really good talent and hope that would help draw more people into the town. And keep them there longer.
A knock on the door jarred her from her thoughts.