Wild About the Wrangler (22 page)

“What's involved with preparing for the trail ride?”

“We'll clean the tack. Then we'll spiffy up the horses. Vince likes to use the wash rack on all of them so they sparkle.”

“I'd love to see that.”

“Wish you could, too, but today should be lucrative for you with the trail riders in town.”

“It will be. And this is the last time I'll feel like a fraud every time I sell a rendering of the Ghost.”

“Anastasia, I can't promise that we'll see him.”

“We will.”

He hoped to hell they did. If he had it in his power to command the Ghost to appear, he'd do it.

She glanced back at him as she opened the door. “Just think, if I hadn't broken my pattern of sleeping late, I'd have less chance to see him.”

“Do you think you'll start sleeping in after the riding lessons are over?” He followed her out the door.

“I don't know.” She laughed. “That might depend on who I'm sleeping with.”

“I see.” His pulse rate kicked up. He'd asked her to dinner and he'd suggested some after-dinner entertainment, but that was the extent of his long-range planning. He'd toyed with the idea of going out Sunday night instead of Monday morning, but he hadn't committed to it in his mind. If she packed a bag and spent the weekend with him, that would simplify everything.

Or complicate everything. If he woke at dawn tomorrow with Anastasia in his bed, he might not be so eager to crawl out of it and go for a horseback ride. He'd probably have other activities in mind.

But that wasn't the only issue that occurred to him as they walked out to the corral. Except for the apartment he'd shared with Sophie during their brief marriage, he'd lived in bunkhouses his entire adult life. By default, then, he'd mostly had sex at the woman's house or apartment.

He wasn't in the habit of staying over, either, especially after his divorce. That would remind him too much of life with Sophie. When it came to actually
sleeping
with a woman, as opposed to having sex with her, he was woefully out of practice. Not to say he didn't want Anastasia to spend the weekend, but he had to think about it.

He helped her catch Jasper and made sure the big roan didn't go anywhere while she saddled and bridled him. She was getting great at the process, though. He loved how intently she applied herself and the obvious bond that was growing between her and Jasper.

She mounted up all by herself and gazed down at him. “You've gone into strong, silent mode, there, cowboy. Was it my comment about sleeping with you that caused that to happen?”

“Yes.” He saw no point in dodging the question. “But—”

“I didn't mean to be pushy. I certainly won't stay over if that would be a problem.”

“I want you to.” The statement rang true the minute he said it. So what if he was out of practice? Considering the lack of eligible males in Bickford the last few years, she'd be out of practice, too.

“In fact, I'd like you to stay all weekend.” Nudging back his hat, he rested his hand on her thigh as he looked up at her. “I can't think of anything more wonderful than waking up next to you in the morning.”

She flushed. “I'm still not a morning person, you know. So I won't be—”

“Oh, yes, you will.” He caressed her thigh. “You might be blurry-eyed and fuzzy-headed, but you'll also be cute and tempting. That's partly why I hesitated. We have trail rides we need to take, and I might . . . get distracted.”

“Oh. I hadn't thought of that.” Her eyes got all sparkly again. “Well, tomorrow will be different because of the Wild Horse Canyon ride going out. We can either rush to beat them to the stable or . . . not.”

“Hmm. Good point.” His groin tightened.

“As for Sunday, would it matter so much if we start our trail ride slightly later than usual?”

He grinned. “Guess not.”

“Monday morning is the critical one for an early start, right?”

“It is, unless. . . . Listen, is there any chance you'd want to skip your happy hour sketching time at Sadie's on Sunday?”

“Why?”

“Once the trail riders are back and the coast is clear, we could ride out late in the afternoon and camp in the box canyon. That would give you two chances to see the Ghost, in the evening and first thing in the morning.”

Excitement flashed in her eyes. “I love that plan! Let's do it.”

“Ever camped before?”

“Nope, but you have. You can show me the ropes.”

“It's easy.” Damn, this was going to be fun. “Just zip two sleeping bags together and you're all set.”

She smiled. “We're going to have sex in the great outdoors, aren't we?”

“Yes, ma'am, we are.”

“Excellent. I've always wanted to.” She grew thoughtful. “We just have to figure out how I can get my clothes and stuff to your house tonight. I'm not going to roll a suitcase down Main Street on my way to Sadie's.”

“No, you're not. Maybe we aren't keeping this a secret, but there's such a thing as being too obvious. I'll pick you up at Sadie's in my truck and we'll fetch your suitcase from your house.”

“Perfect.”

“Yeah, I do believe it will be.” He'd avoided this kind of entanglement for so long that he should probably be worried about whether spending the weekend with her was a good idea. Maybe the great sex had scrambled his brain, because he wasn't worried at all.

A
s Mac had predicted, Anastasia had plenty of customers wanting portraits done that afternoon. She had to put an
OUT
TO
LUNCH
sign on her table so that she could grab a quick sandwich. She didn't want to arrive at Mac's house starving, at least not starving for food. She might arrive famished for his brand of lovemaking, though.

She couldn't stop thinking about him and all those wonderful orgasms. Either her theory about establishing a good visual beforehand had worked spectacularly, or Mac was the best lover she'd ever had. She suspected it was a little of both.

About halfway through the afternoon, she made another sign that read
BACK SOON
so she could call Georgie. The next challenge was finding a private spot to make that call. She'd rather not be overheard telling her big sister that Mac had asked her to spend the weekend with him.

At last she remembered the hotel breakfast room, which wasn't used for much else. She walked across the lobby and through the double doors. Sure enough, the eight tables sat empty and the room was deserted.

She chose to stand, though. This was the kind of call where she might need to pace a little. She didn't like having to contact Georgie at the general store, but if she didn't do it now, the afternoon could get away from her. Georgie wouldn't like hearing this news from someone else.

When Georgie answered her cell, she sounded busy. “Hi. Can you hold on a sec? I'm ringing up a big order.”

“Sure.” Anastasia walked over to the bay window, which looked out on Main Street. At last the town was the way she remembered it from when she'd been a kid growing up here. Her mother and Charmaine had complained that they lived in Podunksville, but she'd always loved it.

She could walk everywhere and knew everyone. Yeah, the Bickford kids had to be bused to school in Amarillo, but she'd used that time to draw. After the bus let them off in the afternoon at the end of Main Street, she'd stop at the ice-cream parlor for a sundae if the weather was nice, and for a cup of hot chocolate if it wasn't. Good memories.

“Hey, sis, what's up?” Georgie's voice snapped her out of her reverie.

“I'll make it quick.” She kept her voice down even though she doubted anyone could hear her. “I'm spending the weekend at Mac's house and I wanted you to—”

“Spending the weekend?” She said it pretty loud.

“Georgie, is anybody in the store?”

“Um, yeah.” This time her sister's voice was much softer. “Sorry about that. Maybe she won't make the connection.”

“Who won't?”

“Ida.”

“Georgie!”

Her sister said something else, but now she was talking so faintly Anastasia couldn't make out the words. “You're overcompensating. Now I can barely hear you.”

“I'll step into the back room. There, that's better. I said you took me by surprise. I've been expecting something to happen, but I didn't think you'd go from nothing at all to spending the entire weekend with him.”

“Well, I'm not going from nothing at all, exactly.”

“You're not? Seriously? So when did you—”

“This morning, after our ride. We went over to his house.”

“Nice! Must have been pretty special if you're committing to an entire weekend with him.”

Anastasia's cheeks grew warm. “It was
amazing.
”

“Oh, I'm glad.” George laughed softly. “So very glad for you, sis. You deserve amazing.”

“Thanks.” She debated saying something about Georgie's pregnancy, which couldn't be much of a secret anymore, considering the immediacy of the wedding plans and Georgie's new habit of ordering club soda at Sadie's instead of her usual red wine. But the phone didn't seem the right venue for discussing it.

“Can't wait to talk to you when I get back from the trail ride. Oops, gotta go. Ida's calling for me. She must have finally decided which sparkly T-shirt she wants. Have fun this weekend.” Georgie disconnected.

Anastasia turned off her phone. Ida's sharp ears and keen powers of observation would probably lead her to the right conclusion about the person Georgie had been talking to and what the topic had been. But now that Georgie had been informed, it really didn't matter who else knew. Mac was a great guy and she was proud to be romantically linked with him.

When she returned to her table at Sadie's, a woman paced nearby, clearly waiting for her. She wore beige slacks, a white silk blouse, and fashionable high-heeled boots. Her dark hair was cut in an asymmetrical style that was both sleek and sophisticated.

She glanced at Anastasia and brightened. “Great! You're back.”

“Sorry if I kept you waiting. I had to make a phone call.” She couldn't judge the woman's age, but she was probably somewhere between midthirties and midforties.

“No worries. I've been hanging around Sadie's watching you work, and just when I decided to come over and talk to you, you ducked out.”

“Were you interested in a portrait?”

“Actually, no, although that might be fun sometime.” She adjusted the shoulder strap on her purse and held out her hand. “I'm Kathryn Abernathy. Ryan Nesbitt's my boss and he sent me over here.”

She sure remembered Ryan Nesbitt, the guy who'd borrowed Travis's hat to have his portrait done. “That's really nice of him. Word of mouth is the best kind of advertising. Have you been up to the gallery in Amarillo?”

“Yes, but I'm not here to buy your art, although I may end up doing that, too. Can we sit down?”

“Of course.” She gestured to the chair where her clients usually sat and she took the one catty-corner from it.

Once she was seated, Kathryn reached in her shoulder bag and pulled out a card. “Let's start here.”

Anastasia studied the card and recognized the production company name as one she'd seen a few times in the credits of some movies she'd liked. Travis had guessed right that Ryan was connected to Hollywood. Apparently Kathryn Abernathy was the artistic director who worked for him.

But that didn't explain what she was doing in Bickford. Anastasia glanced up, puzzled. “Ryan sent you to see me?”

“Yes. He thinks you have the kind of nimble talent we're looking for, and after seeing your work in Amarillo and watching you create on-the-spot portraits, I agree with him. I'd like you to come out to California, take a look around, and see if a job with our company would be a good fit for you.”

Anastasia stared at her in astonishment. Snippets of class notes from art school scrolled through her mind. One of her professors had lectured on the artistic opportunities available in the film industry—storyboarding, graphics, concept art—the list was pretty long, but the competition was supposed to be fierce. She'd never considered it as an option.

“I realize this is sudden,” Kathryn said, “but I wasn't sure what I'd find when I got here, so I didn't know if I'd be offering you this opportunity or not. I'm taking the red-eye back tonight, but that doesn't mean you have to decide immediately. Monday would be soon enough.”

“This Monday? Two days from now?” The offer was startling enough to speed up her pulse. Add in an immediate deadline, and she was in danger of hyperventilating.

“Or Tuesday. The thing is, we have an opening and we need to fill it ASAP. The sooner you can fly out and get a feel for whether this is what you want, the better. If you're not excited about it after seeing the setup, then we'll look for someone else. But I seriously doubt that will happen.”

“Why? You don't even know me.”

Kathryn smiled. “Yes, I do. You prefer charcoal, pencil, and watercolors, all mediums that require a quick, deft touch. I've just spent a couple of hours watching how you handle the rapid-fire nature of these cute portraits. You have the kind of artistic flexibility that would be perfect for us.”

As the shock began wearing off, Anastasia felt excitement rush in to fill its place. The thought of working for a film company in Hollywood was scary as hell, but everything Kathryn had said about her work rang true. If that was the kind of artist they were looking for, she was their girl.

“I should probably also mention the starting salary.” Kathryn named a figure.

Anastasia blinked and barely managed to stop herself from asking if Kathryn was joking. Even with the higher living expenses in L.A. that was a lot of money. She didn't need money, so it wasn't a deciding factor in her mind, but she probably shouldn't say that out loud.

“Of course it's negotiable,” Kathryn said quickly, as if interpreting Anastasia's silence as hesitation because it wasn't enough. “I'm asking you to uproot yourself, too, so of course we'd help with that. When you fly out to see the situation, we'll cover all your expenses.”

They were rolling out the red carpet for her. Astounding. Plus the job could be a fun challenge, except that she'd have to live in California. A week ago she would have been a lot more eager to experience that. Now there was Mac.

“Obviously I'm surprised,” she said at last, “and pleased that you think so highly of my work. But even if I considered flying out there, my sister's getting married next weekend, so that's a priority for me.”

“That's wonderful! I wouldn't want to interfere with something so important. How about the following week?”

“A film crew is coming to town to do a documentary on Wild Horse Canyon Adventures. I want to be here for that.”

“I understand. I'm sure your art has helped sell the trail-ride concept. That was another factor in your favor. You instinctively sense what will be commercially successful. Exactly when will they start shooting?”

“Thursday.”

“Let's look at the dates.” Kathryn pulled out her phone and consulted her calendar. “And your sister's wedding is?”

“The previous Saturday.”

“So if you flew out Sunday and flew back here Wednesday night, is that doable? Then if you decide to take the job, we'll bring you out to California after the documentary wraps.”

“I guess that would be okay, but I really do need to think about it before I say yes or no.” Her head was spinning with a million thoughts, but her overriding emotion was exhilaration. This could be so cool, except for . . . Mac. “It's a big decision.”

“It is.” Kathryn gazed at her with compassion. “A potentially life-changing one. Normally I'd give you more time to mull it over, and then maybe a couple of weeks in California before we finalize everything. But we really do need someone now so I'm abbreviating the process, mostly because I'm sure this is the right thing for you and for us.”

“And I appreciate that confidence.” It could so easily have been flattery designed to manipulate her, but as she looked into Kathryn's gray eyes, she saw honesty there. The woman was giving it to her straight. They had a need and she was a good candidate to fill it. The rest was up to her.

“I have to go.” Kathryn pushed back her chair and stood. “I promised Ryan's friend in Amarillo I'd take him to dinner. He loaned me his car and offered to drive me to the airport tonight.”

Leaving her chair, Anastasia held out her hand. “Regardless of how this turns out, you've made my day with this offer. I never expected such a thing.”

“You should have.” Kathryn's grip was warm. “You have incredible talent, but then again, the good ones never believe how good they actually are. I hope to see you in L.A. My cell number's on that card.”

“I'll let you know this weekend.”

“Great.” Kathryn flashed her one more smile before walking out of Sadie's.

As Anastasia watched her leave, she felt a tug on her elbow and looked over to see Ida standing there, her eyes huge behind her thick glasses.

Ida gestured toward the doorway Kathryn had just walked through. “And who was
that
?”

“Someone interested in my art.”

“She didn't leave with any of it and she didn't ask you to draw her portrait, either. Did she commission something?”

“Um, yes.” Anastasia thought it was close enough to the truth that her nose wouldn't grow.

“Good. I hope you charged her an arm and a leg. She looks as if she could afford it.”

“She can.”

“Ha. Your stock is going up, sweetheart, as I knew it would. But what's the deal with you and Mac Foster? Unless I miss my guess, my prediction about you two is playing out the way I expected.”

Anastasia smiled and shook her head. “I'll neither confirm nor deny.”

“You do realize that when someone says that, it's understood they're confirming it.” She squeezed Anastasia's arm. “And I'm tickled pink. You're exactly right for each other.”

Before Kathryn had made her offer, Anastasia would have enjoyed Ida's teasing. Now it made her uneasy. What was she going to do? “What makes you say so?”

“He's a big strong cowboy with a sensitive side. You're an artistic soul who has more backbone than most people realize. Perfect combination.”

“I'm glad you approve.”

“I do. Enjoy your weekend.” She gave Anastasia's arm another squeeze and walked over to the bar. In a voice that carried throughout the saloon she asked Ike to serve her some “Sex on the Beach.”

That made Anastasia laugh along with the rest of the patrons, but she felt a tug at her heart, too. She wouldn't only be giving up Mac if she moved to California. Georgie was here, and Vince and Travis. She'd miss Ike and his wife, Raina, plus all the senior citizens who'd watched her grow up and encouraged her artistic ambitions.

Not surprisingly, she wouldn't miss her mother all that much. Getting out of that house would be something of a relief. If she made really good money, she could save it in case Georgie needed it later to help buy her precious Victorian.