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  Mona can bite my… “Sunburn,” Meg said with another smile.

  “And Mel wants to know why you’re not on a horse.”

  Somehow Meg kept her smile in place. She’d never been on a horse in her life. After the incident at the parade, she’d avoided horses completely. “No time for that,” she said.

  “Tip the hat up a bit more,” Jamie said.

  Meg adjusted the hat.

  Jamie held up his hand, fingers raised. “Five seconds.”

  As Jamie silently counted down the seconds, Meg cleared her throat and moistened her lips. Then Jamie pointed to her, and she was live, coast-to-coast, beaming into the living rooms, kitchens and family rooms of America. She never failed to get a charge out of that.

  The time went like lightning. She worked in her reference to the Mustang Mountains and the historic nature of the ranch, hoping George would see this segment and give Clint a break.

  After that brief introduction, she interviewed Tuck about his day-to-day routine, and his shyness in front of the camera made him seem like the strong, silent type. Then Meg promised viewers that she’d have three hot cowboy finalists on the air the following morning.

  Jamie gave her the signal, and the broadcast was over.

  “Good job,” Jamie called over to her as he lifted the camera from his shoulder. “You ever been on a horse?”

  “Nope.” She started taking off her equipment. “Why?” She had a bad feeling about that question.

  “Mel wants everyone on horseback tomorrow. You and the three finalists.”

  Meg groaned. “I’ll bet that was Mona’s idea.” Maybe somehow Mona had found out she was afraid of horses.

  “We can find you a real tame one,” Tuck said. “Don’t worry about it.”

  “I’ll need the oldest and slowest nag on the place,” she said. “If you have one named Dobbin, that would be my horse. By the way, you were great on the air. Thank you.” She decided not to think about the horse thing. That was tomorrow.

  “No problem.” He appeared pleased with himself now that it was over. “Anytime you need me, just holler.”

  “Thanks, I will.” She felt restless and disoriented now that the broadcast was finished. Compared to the hour she was used to spending in the limelight, this seemed minuscule. She was like a runner who’d been taken out of the race a few yards out of the starting block. She wanted more air time.

  But she wouldn’t be getting that until this gig was over, and if Mona stole her spot, she might never have that kind of air time again. She hoped she hadn’t looked as disheveled on camera as she’d felt. Maybe the hat had been too cutesie, but considering how her hair had looked this morning, it had been a dire necessity.

  Besides, wearing it had felt good, a kind of talisman to see her through. She’d needed the hat nearby, but not the guy who owned it. Even now she started to shake when she realized he’d watched the whole performance. Strange, when nobody else made her nervous. But nobody else had ever gotten so close, so fast.

  And now she had to act as if they were nothing but casual friends. She walked toward the group of people standing beside the barn. “I want to thank all of you for being so quiet during the broadcast,” she said. “Now if I can answer any questions, or—”

  “Can we get an autograph?” called out a brunette in jeans and a denim jacket.

  “Of course.”

  And just like that, Meg was surrounded by people holding pictures of her, magazine articles about her and even a TV Guide opened to the page where “Meg and Mel in the Morning” was listed.

  She signed autographs and talked to a crowd that seemed to grow bigger by the moment. Jed and Denny, Clint’s other two employees, finally made their way over and asked for an autograph.

  Jed looked like a linebacker in cowboy clothes, and redheaded Denny had enough freckles to brand him forever as the cute and wholesome type. Of the two, she thought Denny had a better chance of making the finals, if he loosened up a little. But she could tell from the way they both stumbled over their words that they were scared to death of her. No wonder they’d stayed in the bunkhouse the night before.

  So her star power had given her one night of privacy, one night to be alone with Clint. From the eagerness of the people surrounding her now, she doubted that she’d have any more privacy while she was in Sonoita. Today she’d be mingling with everyone at the rodeo grounds as cowboys came to compete in the contest. By the end of the day she’d be an adopted member of the community, and if she valued her ratings she wouldn’t go into hiding tonight.

  At one point she glanced up from the People magazine cover she was signing and searched the crowd for Clint. He’d moved a distance away and stood watching her. She caught his eye for one tiny moment, and in that split second she knew that he understood. They’d grabbed their one shining opportunity to be alone, and now it was gone.

  10

  CLINT COULD FIND no good excuse to hang out with Meg as she moved through her scheduled activities. Plenty of people were ready to do anything she asked, from bringing her coffee to loaning her a pair of sunglasses. By ten in the morning the crowd had started for the rodeo grounds where the contestants would show off their roping and riding skills.

  “You going along?” Tuck asked as the van carrying Jamie and Meg pulled out, followed by a procession of pickup trucks.

  “I…” Clint couldn’t decide. Nobody would miss him if he stayed behind and he hated the idea of being lumped in with the rest of her attentive fans. He was more than that, dammit. But maybe not anymore.

  “Aw, come on.” Tuck said. “This doesn’t happen every day. I’ll drive my truck. You can ride with me.”

  “Can I borrow a hat?” Clint felt naked without his, especially if they were going to spend the rest of the morning at the rodeo grounds, where all the cowboys would have on hats. Luckily he and Tuck wore the same size.

  “You sure can. Let me duck into the bunkhouse and fetch you one.” In no time Tuck was back with his old summer straw. “It’s not right for the weather, but it’ll keep the sun out of your eyes.”

  “It’ll work. Thanks.” Clint put on the hat and walked with Tuck over to a dusty pickup parked beside the bunkhouse.

  “What happened to your city slicker routine?”

  Clint shrugged. “She’s smarter than I thought. She saw right through me, so I had to confess.”

  “That didn’t take long.” Tuck smiled. “You gonna enter her contest?”

  “Not on your life.” Clint got into the truck and slammed the door with more force than was necessary.

  Tuck climbed in the driver’s side and coaxed the ancient engine to life. Then he glanced sideways at Clint as he let out the clutch and started down the rutted road. “You two get along okay last night?”

  “Yeah, we managed.” Clint gripped the dash as the truck bounced along.

  “Eating in front of the fire worked out?”

  Clint stared straight ahead through the bug-spattered windshield and wished he’d ridden with someone else. He hadn’t counted on Tuck giving him the third degree. “Yeah. She liked José’s enchiladas.”

  “Don’t take this the wrong way, but ever since you two walked out of the house this morning, you’ve behaved like a man with a cattle prod up his ass.”

  That was probably true, and he didn’t want Meg to catch him acting that way. He’d have to lighten up. “You know I’ve never liked the idea of this whole deal, Tuck. I’m merely tolerating it because I have no choice.”

  “I thought it was good, what she said about the history of the Circle W. George might think twice about turning it into a subdivision and golf course once he hears that.”

  Clint nodded. He’d appreciated that part of the broadcast. “Maybe. But don’t count on it.”

  “Wouldn’t dream of it, Mr. Sunshine. I would hate for a ray of hope to sneak in and spoil that sour mood of yours.”

  Clint said nothing. He couldn’t very well deny he was in a sour mood. He’d work on it befo
re he saw Meg again.

  “She’s pretty.”

  The comment had been made so quietly that Clint had to glance over and see if Tuck had actually spoken. “You say something?”

  “I said she’s real pretty. Can’t believe that point is entirely lost on you.”

  “I suppose not.” Clint returned his attention to the view out the windshield. Pretty didn’t even begin to cover how he saw Meg. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever known, and that was both with or without her clothes. He might have been better off without that knowledge, but he didn’t regret one second of the time he’d had with her.

  “You two looked mighty fine together when you came walking down the hill to the bunkhouse this morning.”

  “So what?”

  “Nothing.” Tuck found a parking spot in the dirt lot in back of the grandstand. “Just making an observation.”

  Clint found it ludicrous that Tuck seemed to be in a matchmaking frame of mind, but that was how he was coming across. That whole business with the cushion placement the night before might have been part of some harebrained attempt to create a romance.

  But they’d had sex, not romance, and that was all they’d ever have. Tuck needed to back off. Clint turned to him. “Let me make an observation, then. Meg and I have absolutely nothing in common. She’s a big-time TV celebrity and I’m just…a cowboy. So whatever crazy things are going through your mind, forget it.”

  Tuck held up both hands. “I’m not thinking anything!”

  “Good. Thanks for the ride.” Taking a deep breath, Clint got out of the truck. No matter how much effort it took, he would be cheerful for the rest of the day. Anyone he met from now on would be greeted with a shit-eating grin, even if it killed him.

  Four hours later, he’d concluded that it just might. He had grinned so damned much his jaw ached. They’d finished at the rodeo grounds and most of the people had come back to the Circle W for a picnic lunch José had thrown together. Then Meg had set up in the living room so that she could do individual interviews with the cowboys. They each had fifteen minutes with her.

  Clint had helped José clean up after lunch, and he was constantly aware of Meg in there talking quietly with the contestants. He told himself that being jealous served no purpose whatsoever, but those interviews were too damned cozy to suit him.

  The living room belonged to him and Meg. It was their special place, and nobody else should be in there alone with her. Then he had a horrible thought—that Meg might have propositioned any guy she’d been stuck with last night, considering that she’d finally had a chance to escape her role of wholesome TV personality for a few hours. No, he couldn’t believe that. They’d shared something special.

  Yet that something special seemed to be slipping away with every minute that passed. When he overheard Meg telling Denny she was looking for that “killer cowboy charm,” he decided to head for the hills. On top of battling jealousy, he’d rather not listen while Meg commercialized everything he held dear. He needed to take his gelding Nugget for a long ride instead of hanging around the ranch house.

  The weather had turned cooler, so he went back to his bedroom, once again ignoring the rumpled bed, and took his denim jacket out of the closet. Adjusting the lamb’s-wool collar, he walked through the living room on his way out the back door. He hadn’t intended to speak to Meg, because she seemed involved in her interview with Denny.

  But as he was leaving, she called after him. “Um, Clint, you look as if you’re taking off somewhere.”

  He turned back. “Thought I’d go for a ride and check the fence.” It was a lame excuse, which Denny would realize but she wouldn’t. Now that they weren’t running cattle, the condition of the fence wasn’t nearly as important. He still checked it out of habit, but not often, and he’d been around the perimeter just last month.

  “Oh.” She cleared her throat. “Well, I don’t want to interfere with the running of the ranch.”

  “Is there something you need?” How dumb that they were standing there talking to each other like polite acquaintances when the night before they’d been moaning in the grip of mutual pleasure.

  “You probably remember that I’ll be announcing the finalists tonight.”

  “I know.” And after the broadcast tomorrow morning, she’d be leaving. He was trying not to think about that.

  “We’re going to have a pre-announcement party at the bar in the Steak Out. I wondered…if you’d be going.”

  He couldn’t tell from her expression if she wanted him to or not. One thing was certain—they wouldn’t be repeating their intimate dinner of the previous night.

  “If you have other things to do, I understand,” she said, eyeing him with those big brown eyes. “I just thought, if you weren’t busy, that—”

  “Of course I’ll be there.” And he’d drink soda. Alcohol wasn’t a wise idea when he had to watch everything he said and did.

  “Thanks.” She sent him her megawatt smile.

  His heart pounded faster, just from the electricity of that smile. He looked away before Denny had a chance to see something more than polite interest in his eyes.

  “We’ve planned to start around six,” Meg said.

  “I’ll be back before then. Have fun.” He left quickly, eager to saddle up and ride off his frustration. Tonight would take all his resources, and he needed some solitude to fortify himself.

  MEG DIDN’T DARE allow herself the luxury of watching Clint walk away. Instead she flipped on the tape recorder and turned to Denny. “So you’ve competed in how many rodeos?”

  Although Denny had seemed intimidated by her at first, she’d worked him through that, and now he was Gabby Gus. He described his bull-riding experiences in great detail, and because the tape recorder caught it all, Meg could daydream about Clint.

  He was killing her. He’d started the process this morning when he’d nearly collided with her in the hall. Once she’d seen him in boots, jeans and a chambray Western shirt, she’d worked hard not to drool.

  Then he’d added the hat, and the effect of seeing him as a full-fledged cowboy had stopped her in her tracks. With time at a premium and Jamie waiting impatiently down by the van, she’d ignored everything except the picture Clint made decked out in his cowboy gear.

  She’d borrowed his hat to hide her bad hair, but she’d also snagged the hat in self-defense. She was ready to do nearly anything to lessen the impact of his cowboyness and save her sanity. Then he’d found another hat, and now he’d added a denim jacket with a lamb’s-wool collar. And he was going out to ride his horse. She was ready to attack him.

  Instead she’d casually asked him to have drinks with her and a cast of thousands. At least it would seem like thousands when all she wanted was another night alone with her fantasy cowboy. No denying it—if she put in a special order for the man of her dreams, he would look exactly like Clint.

  What a shame that he’d turned up his nose at her contest. Tuck had been great to have on the morning’s segment, but interviewing Clint would have taken ratings through the roof. Then, if he were a contestant, he’d generate even more interest in the contest. She felt it in her gut, knew it would be good for the show.

  And she thought it would be good for Clint, too. Even though she’d seen only the Arizona candidates so far, she didn’t have to travel to the other states to know that Clint would have an excellent chance of winning. He had it all—rugged good looks, ranching skills and sexual charisma.

  If he would only enter the contest, magical things could happen. Reality TV had shown how the public embraced the finalists in a contest like this. Even if Clint didn’t win, simply being on television would bring offers for commercials, appearances, maybe even a movie role.

  She would be there to guide him through unfamiliar territory, and they might even figure out a way to continue their relationship. But even more important, he might earn enough to buy back his beloved ranch.

  “So do you think I have a chance?” Denny asked a
fter he’d run out of bull-riding stories.

  “Absolutely.” She switched off the tape recorder. Denny was adorable. A rakish grin along with his All-American freckles and red hair would make him a fan favorite, although personally Meg thought he wasn’t quite sexy enough to take the title of Hottest Cowboy in the West. He might be a finalist, though, whereas Jed probably wouldn’t make it. Jed threw a mean rope in the arena, but he’d indulged in too many beers and had the belly to show it.

  Cowboys had arrived from all over Arizona, and if she could, she’d pack up every last one and give them a shot at fame and fortune. She hadn’t planned on letting her emotions get involved in the contest. Here she was at the beginning of the competition and already she didn’t want to disappoint anyone. Tonight she’d have to pick three finalists, and that would be much tougher than she’d imagined.

  “I’m glad you thought up this contest,” Denny said. “When Mel said on TV that there weren’t any more real cowboys, me and the guys wanted to head to New York and prove him wrong. But right away you set this contest up, which will show him we really do exist.”

  “The contest wouldn’t have worked if all of you hadn’t turned out. I appreciate that. I realize that some people think the idea’s…silly.” And if everyone had taken Clint’s attitude, she would have been dead in the water.

  “You mean the boss. He’s a private kind of guy, sort of a throw-back to the old days. Asking him to compete for a spot on a television program would be like expecting a wild stallion to wear ribbons and prance around a show ring.”

  “I suppose.” But she’d love to find a way to get him into the contest, and she was running out of time. Being part of the process might give him his ranch…and her. Twenty-four hours ago she’d thought marriage was a distant dream, one to be postponed until she’d solidified her position as a celebrity. Her thinking was changing in light of what she’d found with Clint. She hoped he felt the same.

  The front door opened and Bill, a contestant from Prescott, walked in. “Okay, Denny, get on outta here and let a real man have some time with the lady.”