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  “Yeah. But we can go with eyebrow lifting. Come on. The sooner we get in there, the sooner we can leave.”

  THE BAR WAS JAMMED and noisy, but once Meg walked in everyone stopped talking and stared at her. The only sound came from the two televisions mounted above the bar, where a Suns basketball game was in progress.

  For one scary moment Meg was afraid they knew what she and Clint had been up to an hour ago. “Is there a problem?” she asked, praying there wasn’t.

  “No problem,” said the bartender. “I think we’re a little star-struck, is all. What’ll you have? It’s on the house.”

  “No, I’m buying,” called a cowboy from the back.

  “No, you aren’t,” said another one, slapping his money on the bar. Then mayhem broke out as nearly every man in the place jockeyed for a spot at the bar, each waving money and insisting they were buying Meg Delancy a drink.

  Jamie pushed through the crowd and came over to her. “Man, oh, man, this’ll take all freakin’ day. I know. I’ll jus’ make you somethin’. Whatcha want? You, too, pardner.” He slapped Clint on the back and giggled. “Pardner. I’m really gettin’ into this.”

  Meg peered at her cameraman. “Jamie, are you drunk?”

  Jamie gave her a silly grin. “Doin’ my best to be. Still too sober, though. Too damned sober.”

  Meg linked her arm through Jamie’s. “Come with me for a minute.” She glanced up at Clint. “Excuse us—we’ll be right back.”

  With the hubbub still going on about who would buy drinks, nobody seemed to notice as she guided Jamie through the doorway into the reception area of the restaurant that was adjacent to the bar. Not a soul was in the restaurant. Everyone in town was obviously crammed into the saloon.

  Meg led Jamie over to a row of chairs intended for people waiting for a table. From the way he was weaving, she thought he’d be better off sitting than standing. She gave him a gentle nudge in that direction and he sank down onto the nearest chair.

  “Okay.” She took the chair next to him. “This is so not like you. What’s happened?”

  His expression grew mournful. “Called my darling Alison this afternoon.”

  Meg closed her eyes, afraid of what he was about to say.

  “Found herself another guy. I’ve been gone less ‘n two days.” He held up three fingers, studied them and pulled one finger down. “Two days.”

  “Jamie, I’m so sorry. That sucks.”

  “Two days! How could somethin’ happen in two lousy days?”

  She was the wrong person to ask a question like that. Two days had made a huge difference in her life. When she’d left New York she’d imagined herself staying single for years. Now she was trying to figure out a way to be with Clint. She was thinking long-term, maybe very long-term. Like forever.

  “I wanna go home,” Jamie said. “Get a look at him. Try ‘n get her back.”

  At first she panicked. Losing Jamie could jeopardize the whole trip. Nobody else had his eye for composition. Any other cameraman they sent had the potential to louse things up, and she’d pay the price.

  But Jamie was already paying a price, a big one, for being here. Maybe Alison wasn’t worth his concern, but he was the one who had to decide that.

  “I’ll do my best to get them to send a replacement for you.” Mel wouldn’t like it, and neither would Sharon. Meg would offer to pay the extra expense of sending a new person out. If going to bat for Jamie affected the project and her career took a hit, so be it. She waited for her tummy to start churning at the thought, but amazingly, it didn’t.

  Maybe the serendipity of meeting Clint had given her new respect for going with the flow. Maybe this country was beginning to have an effect on her priorities. Even that thought would ordinarily scare her to death, but she felt calm. If Jamie needed to go home to be with Alison, she’d support him.

  “You’d really be okay with that?” Jamie gazed at her and seemed to make a valiant attempt to focus.

  “I know how important she is to you.” She smiled at him. “I hope someday to dance at your wedding.”

  “I hope to dance at our wedding, too.” He shook his head. “Need coffee. Gotta go on the Net, get a ticket.”

  “Stay right here a minute. I’ll find someone who can take you back to the ranch. But, Jamie, they can’t get a replacement here in time for tomorrow morning. The three finalists and I are supposed to be on horseback for the broadcast, and I’m already nervous about it.”

  “Don’t fret, Megster.” Jamie rubbed her arm. “I’ll do the gig and get us to Phoenix.” His grin was crooked. “It’s not like you can fly outta Sonoita, ya know.”

  “True.” She glanced up when she saw a movement by the door. Clint was standing there looking worried. She beckoned him over. “Jamie needs to fly back to New York tomorrow,” she said.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Family emergency.” At least she hoped someday Alison would be family for Jamie.

  Clint’s worried frown deepened. “I hope nobody has di—”

  “No, we’re not talking about anything life-threatening. But he has to go home right away. I’m going to ask for a replacement first thing in the morning. I’ll need to get up about five so I can call the studio and start the process.” She looked into his eyes, and knew he was remembering the chaotic morning they’d had because of oversleeping.

  “Right. I’ll make sure you have an alarm clock.”

  “Need a ride to the ranch,” Jamie mumbled. “Gotta get on the Net.”

  Clint looked confused. “What?”

  “He wants to sober up and buy his ticket on the Internet,” Meg said. “So he has to go back to the Circle W.”

  “I’ll take him. I’ll make him some coffee and let him use my computer.”

  It was the best solution. If she told anyone else they were free to take Jamie back, they’d know they weren’t a finalist. But Meg hated to have Clint leave. She’d become used to the idea that he’d be there all evening and take her home.

  “Thanks,” she said, ignoring her own disappointment. “That would be wonderful.”

  “You’d better get in there,” he said. “They’re all asking for you.”

  “I will.” She stood. “See you later.”

  “Right. Later.”

  She hurried toward the bar, but her heart was with Clint as he helped Jamie up and started toward the door. If she was this broken up over losing his company for the evening, how could she possibly give him up forever? He’d have to go along with her plan to be part of the contest as Meg’s Pick. By doing that, he had a good chance to save his ranch, and they could find a way to merge their worlds. It was the only option she could see.

  12

  CLINT WAS GLAD for a chance to escape from the bar. He didn’t know how Meg could deal with a mob scene like that on a regular basis. She was probably used to it, but Clint liked his social interaction to be with a handful of people, at most. One-on-one was his favorite.

  And yeah, he was jealous of all the time she was giving to that crowd, and he had no right to be. She was here to see and be seen, not to hide away in a bedroom having sex with him. Anyone who ended up with Meg would have to take whatever spare time she had and be grateful.

  “I ‘preciate this, man,” Jamie said as Clint gave him a boost up into the truck. “I promise not to barf on your seat.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” But Clint rolled the window down before he closed the door and went around to the driver’s side. The cool air should help sober Jamie up, even if he didn’t need to heave out the window. And having Jamie burp on his truck was better than hanging around watching guys drool over Meg. He climbed in and started Esmerelda’s motor.

  “She’s okay, that Megster,” Jamie said.

  Clint had no argument with that. “Yeah, she’s great.”

  “She doesn’t want me t’ leave.”

  “Probably not, but if you have an emergency—”

  “Alison found a new guy.”

&n
bsp; Clint did a mental double take. He had to assume Alison was Jamie’s girlfriend, but the situation didn’t sound like much of an emergency. “That’s why you’re leaving?”

  “Yep. Nip this in the bud.”

  Clint didn’t get it. Bringing a replacement out here would certainly create problems for Meg. Surely she outranked Jamie, so she should be able to demand that he stay with her, even if his girlfriend had taken off with another man.

  He’d pictured Meg as being focused on her goal, ready to do whatever it took to keep her spot on the show. Going along with Jamie didn’t fit. “Were you and Alison engaged?” he asked.

  “Not yet. But she’s the one. It’ll happen.”

  From the look of things, Jamie might be the only person who thought so. Clint was astounded that Meg was buying into this program. Then he remembered her saying that she felt sorry for the cowboys she didn’t choose. Apparently she had a soft heart. He wasn’t sure she could afford that if she wanted to keep her job.

  “Meg’s a good friend,” Jamie said. “The best.”

  Clint had no business getting involved, but he couldn’t help himself. “Won’t this make things tough for her, switching cameramen after the whole thing’s started?”

  Jamie didn’t say anything for a while. “Are you thinkin’ I should stick around?”

  “I don’t know about that. But it’s not Meg’s fault that your girlfriend got involved with somebody else. Seems like she shouldn’t have to suffer for it. She’s just out here trying to do her job.”

  More silence from the passenger side of the cab. “I s’pose you’re right,” Jamie said at last. “But I don’t wanna lose Alison.”

  “Buddy, you can’t force these things.” Clint did his best to be patient. Love was a hell of a thing to contend with. “Either it’s right or it’s not. Sometimes you just have to let go.”

  Jamie leaned his head back against the seat. “I wanna get married. I want kids. It’s time.”

  “I know what you mean.” And the funny thing was, Clint hadn’t had such thoughts until recently, like yesterday, in connection with a very unlikely candidate. A guy didn’t settle down with a woman like Meg. He could only grab hold and go along for a wild ride.

  He pulled the truck in front of the house. “Here we are. Need help getting out?” If Jamie was starting to sober up, and Clint thought he was, he wouldn’t appreciate being babied.

  “I can make it.” Jamie spoke with the careful enunciation of someone who was smashed and didn’t want to seem smashed.

  “Okay. Then I’ll go in and make us a pot of coffee. Come on when you’re ready.”

  “Thanks. I’ll be in…shortly.”

  Clint headed into the house and left the front door ajar so Jamie wouldn’t have too much to contend with. He had the coffee perking away when Jamie showed up in the kitchen, pale but not quite as wobbly.

  “Have a seat.” Clint motioned to a small table in the corner of the kitchen. “Unless you want to go into my office and get on the Internet while the coffee’s brewing.”

  Jamie sat down on one of the scarred oak kitchen chairs and propped his head in his hands. “I’m still thinkin’ about it.”

  Clint nodded and pulled a couple of mugs out of the cupboard. If he could keep Jamie from buying a ticket home until he’d sobered up completely, he might not do it at all. Clint thought the urge to run home had more to do with alcohol than good sense.

  When the coffee finished brewing, he poured two mugs full and took them over to the table. “You take anything in it?”

  “Nope. Thanks.” Jamie blew across the surface of the coffee and took a sip. Then he choked.

  “You okay?” Clint started to get up.

  “Sit, sit.” Jamie stopped him with his hand, then coughed and cleared his throat. “Some coffee, pardner.”

  “I like it strong.”

  “No shit. You could pave your driveway with this.”

  “Want me to water it down?”

  “No, I’m gonna drink it. I’ll bet it brings brain cells back from the dead.”

  “Maybe.” Clint smiled as he picked up his mug. “And you killed off a bunch tonight.”

  “Yeah.” Jamie seemed lost in thought as he slowly drank his coffee. When he finished the first cup, he got up and poured himself a second, and he seemed steadier. When that was gone, he put the empty mug on the table. “I’ll stay.”

  Clint met his gaze. “Good.”

  “Thanks for keeping me from making a complete ass of myself. I guess Meg would’ve let me.”

  “She didn’t like seeing you suffer.”

  “No, she didn’t.” Jamie turned his mug around and around. “She acts tough, but underneath she’s a real softie.” His words were distinct, as if time and caffeine had cleared the cobwebs.

  “I believe you.”

  “Not many people know that. I sometimes think—ah, never mind.” Jamie waved a hand in the air.

  “What?”

  “She’d kill me if she knew I’d said this, so don’t tell her.”

  “I won’t.”

  Jamie gazed across the table at him. “I know you won’t. You’re a real straight shooter, and that’s a good thing. For what it’s worth, I think it stinks that George, who’s clueless, owns this ranch.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Anyway, back to Meg. In my humble opinion, she needs somebody she can be herself with. Most of the time she has to act invincible. I’m probably one of the few people she lets down her guard in front of. She can’t even do that with her family. They’re just waiting for her to fail so they can say I told you so.”

  Clint hated hearing that. He wanted her to be surrounded with people who wished her well. “Do you think she’s in danger of getting kicked off the show?”

  “I hope not, but this is a fickle business. You’re golden one minute, crapola the next. That’s another reason I wish she had somebody special, somebody who could cushion the blows.”

  Clint had to say it. “What about you?”

  Jamie laughed. “Believe it or not, she’s not my type. I go for rounder women, ones who like to cook and eat.” He sighed. “Like Alison.”

  Now Clint felt guilty. “Look, if you think going back there is the answer, then I don’t want to be the one who talked you out of it. I don’t know her, and I barely know you. Forget what I said.”

  Jamie shook his head. “It’s not the answer, and Meg needs me here. When I get back in two weeks I’ll find out what’s going on. But if I ran back there now, I’d look like a pathetic loser. You steered me right. I appreciate it. If there’s anything I can ever do for you, let me know.”

  “Okay.” Clint couldn’t think of anything, but it was nice to know someone close to Meg was on his side.

  Jamie stood. “Guess I’ll head on down to the bunkhouse and do some editing. Are you going back to the Steak Out?”

  “Probably not.”

  “Not your scene, huh?”

  Clint shrugged, not wanting to put down something that might be a way of life for Jamie.

  “I’m getting sick of the bar crowd, myself,” Jamie said. “When I was twenty-five, getting loud and crazy in public was my main form of entertainment. Now that I’m pushing thirty, I’d rather have dinner by candlelight at home.”

  “I have to admit I like that, too.” And he’d had a recent experience with just such a dinner and it had been outstanding.

  “The thing about restaurants is that you have to drive home before you can…well, you know.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “And Alison makes the most amazing Alfredo sauce…. Ah, I’m not going to think about Alison’s Alfredo sauce, or anything else about her, or I’ll be ready to hit the bottle again.”

  Clint wanted to ask if Jamie knew what kind of evening Meg liked best, but asking wouldn’t be a good idea. Besides, it didn’t matter. Her career choice meant she had to make a bunch of public appearances, whether she liked that or not. Quiet dinners would be few and far between for
her.

  “Are you planning to wait up for Meg?” Jamie asked.

  He thought fast and came up with a reasonable explanation for doing that. “Yeah, probably. I wanted to talk to her about the horseback-riding plan for tomorrow.”

  “She’s scared of horses. I’ll bet that witch Mona knows it and talked Mel into the horse thing.”

  “I’ll find her the equivalent of a rocking chair.” Clint wished there had been time today to get her out there and acclimate her to the experience.

  “She’ll still be scared, but at least I won’t have to worry about her, now that I know you’re on top of it. If you’re awake, would you tell her for me I’ve decided not to go back to New York?”

  “Sure.”

  “Tell her it was the booze talking, and I’ve come to my senses. Hell, you’ll know what to tell her. And thanks again.”

  “Any time.” Clint flipped on the back porch light so that Jamie wouldn’t have any trouble finding his way to the bunkhouse. A light was on down in the main room, probably Tuck reading one of his Westerns. Tuck wasn’t much of a barfly, either, so he’d chosen to stay home tonight.

  Tuck would keep Jamie company for the rest of the night, which relieved Clint of the job. He’d wondered if Jamie would decide to camp out in the house, maybe even choose to sleep on the sofa. That would have ended Clint’s plans for some time alone with Meg.

  Thinking of that, he made a quick trip to his bedroom and set the alarm clock for five. She might want to change it when she found out about Jamie, but he planned to advise her to get up at that time so they could go down to the barn and get acquainted with the horse she’d be on.

  With that chore out of the way, he returned to the kitchen, poured himself another cup of coffee and walked into the living room. Damn, but it was quiet. He used to love solitude more than anything, but tonight the room lacked something…someone, to be more exact. Meg couldn’t possibly have become that important to him in such a short time, could she?

  With a sigh, he plopped down in his favorite chair and picked up a magazine. He hoped she’d get home soon. Then he mentally corrected that. He hoped she’d get back soon. This was his home, not hers. He needed to keep the reality of the situation firmly in mind or somebody might get hurt. And it would probably be him.