Always a Cowboy (8 page)

CHAPTER SEVEN

S
OMETHING
WAS
UP
.

When he came in for lunch the next day, after that moonlit kiss he and Luce had shared, Drake saw Harry's knowing smile, and before he could ask any questions, she presented him with one of his all-time favorites—a corned beef sandwich. He devoured it and would've counted himself a lucky man, but Mace came into the kitchen before he was finished. The smug grin on his brother's face would have made it hard for a saint to resist punching him out on the spot.

Drake was no saint.

“What?” He set aside his plate and forgot all about having seconds of the potato salad. Harold and Violet, waiting patiently at his feet, were obviously hoping for leftovers.

Mace tried to look innocent but didn't quite pull it off as he plucked a sandwich from the board and spooned up enough potato salad to satisfy a bull moose. “What? You and Slater cross paths today?”

“Not yet.”

Come to think of it, when he'd passed Grace in the hall, she'd also had an amused expression on her face.

What now?

For starters, he wasn't going to pass up the extra potato salad, and he never gave the dogs any table scraps, so he ignored them. He took his own sweet time eating, even rinsed his plate. Only then did he take the bait. “You going to elaborate? Just tell me. You're obviously dying to.”

Mace had his mouth full, so he finished chewing and swallowed before he answered. “He's in his office. Maybe before you head out again, you should see him.”

The fact that Mace found this funny was not a good sign, whatever was going on. Drake maneuvered the hallways to the back of the house, the dogs following. Slater was at his desk, talking on his cell phone, but he waved him into a seat. Drake chose to stand and gaze out the window, because that was one damn fine view. His father had known what he was doing when he'd selected this room for his office. Plus, he wasn't going to stay long, anyway.

Slater ended the call. “Sorry about that.”

He turned. “No problem. We're even if you'll tell me why everyone's acting like there's something I don't know that they all find hilarious.”

Oh, great, another big grin. His older brother said, “Can't thank you enough.”

“What the hell does that mean? Thank me for what?” Drake was getting exasperated and he didn't care who knew it.

Slater touched a key on his computer. “I've been struggling with how to start the new documentary. We've begun some of the filming, but I needed an opening. It's all about Wyoming, specifically this area—and you handed my opening scene to me on a platter. Sterling-silver platter, in fact. Look at this.”

The minute the image came up, Drake understood the snickers. It was certainly a familiar one. Moon rising, mountains, waterfall glistening, a wild stallion in the background...

Man and woman kissing.

“You had cameras there last night? At that very spot?” Drake took off his hat and wanted to throw it across the room, but he ran his fingers through his hair instead. “Damn, Slate, that was kind of a private moment!”

His brother leaned back in his chair. “Now, think about it. How in the hell would I know you'd conveniently show up—cowboy hat, boots and all—and kiss the girl? I just wanted to catch the waterfall and the moon rising, so we set up remote cameras. We handle things that way all the time. The stallion's an extra perk. I can't
not
use this shot. The chances of getting something like this are out of the ballpark. This
is
Wyoming. I'm opening with it.”

Oh,
that
was good news.

His brother went on, going all Showbiz. “It's great footage. I showed it to my assistant, and he about flipped out. Sent it to the director, and he couldn't believe it, either. Done, and on the first take, too. No actors involved, and the staging and lighting are perfect.”

This
was
his brother. He would've told anybody else what they could do with their perfect staging. Slater was Slater, though, and he was telling the truth—he hadn't planned on filming that kiss. It had just happened. No one's fault, but Drake's level of enthusiasm for sharing his love life—if that term applied—with the world was hovering around minus twenty.

So he looked for a way out. “Don't you need our permission?”

“Yeah, I do. I'm counting on you to sign, and to persuade Luce to do the same. You ought to be able to convince her—the two of you seem to like each other well enough, if that kiss is any indication.”

This was a headache he didn't need. At least he and Luce weren't really recognizable, he thought as he studied the screen. They were practically silhouettes. “Well, I'm guessing since those were remote cameras, they kept on rolling, so you also caught us having an argument and her stomping off. I wouldn't count on me influencing her.”

Slater didn't look fazed at all. “And yet I
am
counting on it. Grace said it might be the most romantic moment she's ever seen—which made me question whether or not I've been handling things right.”

“She's pregnant with your child, so you've obviously done things just fine.” Drake rubbed his forehead. “Did you
have
to show it to other people?”

“Mom walked in when I was reviewing the film to ask me a question. Most people wouldn't recognize you from your profile, but she would. Of course, she told Harry and Grace. They both asked to see it. Grace is kind of dangerous right now that she's in her last trimester, so I couldn't refuse. And I learned a long time ago that if Harry asks me to do something, I should simply do it. You can't disagree with me on that.”

“Someone told Mace.”

“Drake, if the way you dragged Luce out of Bad Billy's didn't start everyone talking, then I don't know what would. I heard about it from Raine, and she'd heard it from someone else because she and Daisy were out to dinner with us during that little scene.” He paused, looking closely at Drake. “Oh, and I'll need Luce's permission in writing. My lawyers will be in touch.”

“Lawyers?” This was getting worse by the minute.

“They handle situations like this. Don't act as if you don't know that.”

He did, but still...

“I don't want to be part of your movie.”

“You didn't intend to be part of it, but it's going to be perfect. You didn't have to act or anything. You just behaved naturally, and it was exactly what I needed. So you and I both won. Look at the picture again. Classic.”

Hell, double hell and triple hell.

“It's that damn horse.” Slater could easily get another couple to kiss in the moonlight by the waterfall, but that horse was so beautiful—when he wasn't kicking down fences and creating other chaos. “Fine with me, but
you
get to ask Luce about the footage. I've got a full afternoon and she's being fairly testy with me right now. You stand a better chance.”

He stalked out the door and ran into her in the hallway. Figured. She was in full-on outdoor gear, ponytail and all. “Slater needs to talk to you,” he said, trying to sound as normal as possible. “He's in his office, and just so you know, this isn't my fault.”

“What does that mean?” Luce wasn't letting him off the hook. She caught his arm as he tried to leave. “What isn't your fault?”

“This.” He grabbed her, kissed her the way he had the night before, then let her go. At least she didn't smack him, but he did see her bewildered look when he spun on his heel and walked away.

Chapter Four of his book should be titled “Romantic Moonlit Kisses Are a Bad Idea.”

* * *

B
LYTHE
WAS
ON
the porch, watering her flowers. Luce went out there and sat down, sighing deeply. “Your sons are giving me fits.”

“Welcome to my world.” Blythe glanced over with a smile hovering on her lips. “Specifically?”

“I know you saw that picture of me and Drake.” She felt a flush hit her cheeks.

“I could lie,” Blythe told her, “but I'm not good at lying, and besides, why should I? I saw it. Slater is elated and I don't blame him one bit. That shot couldn't be orchestrated in a thousand years. Drake would never do that in front of a camera on purpose and that horse is definitely an...interesting addition.”

Luce gave a small hiccup of a laugh. “Drake's going to view him as more of a nuisance than ever.”

“I assume you mean the horse. Well, Drake viewed
you
as a nuisance when you first got here, but he seems to have decided otherwise in a very short period of time. I was going to have a cup of tea. Care to join me?”

“I'd love to.”

“I'll be right back. We'll sit at the table in the corner.”

It was a pleasant afternoon, pots of pansies vibrant in the slanting sunlight on the veranda-style porch. When Blythe returned with a tray holding an old-fashioned teapot and two delicate floral china cups with saucers, Luce hurried to take it from her, letting her hostess choose a chair first.

“Of course, Harry insisted on the oatmeal chocolate chip cookies, since she was just taking them out of the oven.” Blythe sat down and reached for the teapot, pouring them each a cup. “She makes those for Drake, lemon bars for Slater, and Mace's favorite is her blue-ribbon-winning pie. If asked, I'm fairly sure the boys would describe her as the most thoughtful tyrant in Bliss County. Now, then, what are you going to do about Drake?”

That was certainly direct.

But so was the picture, and he'd just kissed her
again
. Drat the man. Not that she'd pushed him away or anything...

The raspberry-lemon tea was wonderful. “I have no idea,” she said with a rueful smile. “I don't know if I
can
do anything about him. He lives here and I live in California.”

“His father lived here and I lived in California.” Blythe took a dainty sip. “I really fell for that hardworking, honest-as-the-day-is-long cowboy. Slater looks like my late husband, but Drake
reminds
me of him more. Stubborn as all get-out. He's also a very good, kind man. Intelligent and yet compassionate enough that children and animals are instinctively drawn to him.”

Luce nibbled at a cookie. She could level with Blythe, and she did. “You don't have to sell me on Drake. You saw that film.”

Blythe's smile deepened. “I did indeed. A lot of people will see it. You're fine with that?”

“No one will know who I am. I told Slater I was okay with it.”

“There are worse things than a woman being kissed by a handsome young man.”

She couldn't agree more. “Everything in life is about timing. Did you catch that bus on schedule? Or if you missed it, did you also miss being in an accident? Did you walk across the street at the wrong time? Did your parents divorce when you were in high school? Did you catch your fiancé with your best friend? All kinds of scenarios like that. I just don't know if this is the right timing for us.”

Blythe laughed, the sound light and musical. “Honey, you can't wait for ‘right.' There's no such thing when it comes to love. I'd never tell you what to do, but to me, effort is the key to any relationship and I'm living proof that you have to do your share and maybe a little more if you want a man like Drake.”

Luce shrugged. “I'm not convinced it's an option.”

“Sure it is! Keep in mind that Drake's never going to be forthcoming, especially regarding anything emotional. That's just who he is. Mace expresses himself effectively, Drake not enough and Slater's in the middle.”

That didn't bother her too much. He was a loner and she understood that, but he was also an intelligent, articulate man who
could
talk about his feelings; he wasn't inclined to do it.

Talk about being between a hard rock and a deep pool... Red needed to write his own book of quaint sayings and shelve it right next to
The Cowboy Guide to a Successful Relationship
.

“So I chose the difficult one, didn't I?”

“Maybe.” Blythe didn't evade her question. “In a lot of ways he's the easiest. He does what he's going to do and that's it. He's never going to pull you in fifteen different directions, and he won't lie to you. If you want it straight from the hip, that's exactly what you're going to get, like it or not.”

Chose
was a dangerous word. It implied that she'd made a decision. Perhaps she even had...

Blythe took difficult and made it simple. “He's worth it.”

It would be different if Luce disagreed. But Mace had said the same thing.

“I wasn't looking for this.”

Blythe took that in stride. “Sometimes it just finds you.”

“Now you sound like Drake.”

“Or maybe he sounds like me?” She smiled. “We
have
spent some time together in our lives.”

That did bring a laugh. “Okay, I concede that he might sound like you. Pragmatic and down-to-earth.”

Grace pulled up just then, got out of her car and slammed the door. Hard. She stalked up the steps—as much as a very pregnant woman could stalk—and dropped her purse on the wooden floor of the veranda. “If I could drink, I would, but I can't. Is it wrong to say I had a bad day at the resort? That doesn't seem right. Who could have a bad day at a beautiful resort? Me, that's who. Some of those cookies have my name on them. Don't risk both your lives by eating them all while I go to the bathroom for about the four hundredth time today.”

Blythe was unfazed. “Harry made an extra batch.”

“She has a good sense of how the universe works. I'll be right back.”

Blythe was laughing out loud, but she had a sympathetic look on her face as her daughter-in-law disappeared into the house. She settled comfortably back in her chair. “Near the end it gets rough. Childbirth right in front of you and either you don't know what to expect or you
do
know what to expect. Between a—”