“What an entrance!” Toni heard someone say.
“Where’d you get that stagecoach?” someone else asked.
Toni made her way to the front after spotting Martha Chase talking to the driver. Martha coordinated the Settlers’ Stroll with the public works director for the city. No one had mentioned a stagecoach during the planning meetings.
The group greeting the McCalls and the Russells moved away from the stomping, head-bobbing horses. Others looked on from a distance. Martha motioned for Toni to join her near the stagecoach.
“Isn’t this great? We should have thought of this before,” Martha said, whipping out her digital camera.
“We didn’t think of it now,” Toni answered. Apparently, the McCalls had really decided to get into the Old West spirit. She couldn’t imagine stodgy George Russell coming up with anything so whimsical.
“Step up here and let me take your picture,” Martha said.
“Really, I don’t think that’s necessary,” Toni replied, gazing into the dark interior.
“No, no, I really want your picture. This will look great in the newsletter.”
Toni resigned herself to being photographed in the stagecoach. “Okay, but hurry. We need to begin the stroll soon.”
“Oh, of course,” Martha said, fidgeting with her camera settings.
Just then another set of hoofbeats caught everyone’s attention. Toni swiveled from her perch on one of the leather seats of the coach. A masked man rode down Market Street, waving another—hopefully—fake gun. He made his horse rear slightly. The crowd cheered.
“What’s going on now?” she asked Martha.
“I believe our bandit is here.”
“Martha, whose idea was this?”
But Martha didn’t answer, stepping back as the bandit approached the stagecoach. Toni was trapped unless she wanted to step into the path of the nervous horse. “This is a robbery!” he shouted. “Hand over your Wells Fargo cash box.” He brandished his gun as his horse pranced to the delight of the crowd.
Surely this little drama would be over soon. She leaned out the window to see more of what was going on.
“Well, well,” the bandit said, his voice vaguely familiar although somewhat muffled by his bandanna mask, “What do we have here?”
“That’s the mayor,” a man in the audience shouted.
“The mayor! Why, I thought maybe she was the schoolmarm. She sure is a pretty lady.”
“She sure is!” someone answered.
Toni felt her cheeks flush. Okay, now this was getting embarrassing.
“I’ll take that cash box and the pretty lady,” the bandit announced.
“Oh, no, you don’t,” she muttered, ready to get out of the stagecoach.
“Driver, follow my directions and no one gets hurt,” the bandit shouted. He waved his gun around some more, then to Toni’s shock, the stagecoach lurched forward and the door slammed shut. She heard the shout of the driver to the horses, the clacking of the wheels and the panting of the bandit’s horse, just outside the window. Righting herself, she grabbed the door frame and stuck her head out the window.
“Okay, fun’s over. Take me back,” she ordered.
The bandit drew even with the coach as it followed the old road next to the railroad tracks. They slowed as they came to the intersection with Commerce Street. The streetlamps illuminated the man and his dark horse. “Sorry, pretty lady,” he said, holding the reins in one hand as he pulled his bandanna lower with the other. “I sure can’t do that.”
She felt as if the air had been knocked out of her lungs. “Wyatt! What are you doing?”
“I’m abducting you. Tell me this isn’t the most fun you’ve had at one of these events in years.”
“Fun? You’re embarrassing me.”
“No, I’m not. The crowd loves it. And I’ll take you back soon.” The stagecoach slowed as they reached the old hotel construction site, then continued on to a vacant lot.
“Stop here,” he told the driver.
The stagecoach came to a stop. Wyatt swung down from his horse and tied the reins to the back of the stagecoach. “Wyatt, I need—”
“No,” he said, opening the door. “We need to talk.”
Toni scooted over when it became obvious he intended to barge in. He had a lot of nerve, renting this stagecoach, planning an abduction and insisting she listen to him. Of course, Wyatt had always possessed more than his share of nerve.
Why else would he always risk so much?
What was he risking now? The question haunted her as she looked across the dimly lit interior of the coach. Only the streetlamp provided light so she could see his face.
“We won’t be gone long, I promise. I had to do something dramatic to get you alone, since you’ve made it clear that coming to your house or your office might be seen as a clandestine rendezvous.”
“Oh, and abducting me from the Settlers’ Stroll isn’t?”
“Of course not. We’re still in public, albeit in a rather deserted piece of the downtown area. The driver is sitting up there,” Wyatt said, pointing toward the roof, “and if you’ll hear me out we’ll simply make two turns and be back on Main Street in no time. We can catch up with everyone and you’ll be greeted as the rescued damsel in distress.”
“I’ve never been a damsel in distress. Aren’t you mixing metaphors or something? You’re not a knight in shining armor. You’re a bandit dressed in black!”
“Okay, bad analogy. Anyway, just listen. I was really angry when I left town. I was a bear to everyone all the way back to California, when I got to my house and when I tried to concentrate on anything at my office. Finally, my assistant, Brian, strongly suggested that I take some time and resolve whatever was bothering me.”
“I can tell you what’s bothering you. Someone finally told you no. That must have been a first.”
Wyatt shrugged, not denying her statement of fact. Wyatt had been a spoiled child, an arrogant youth and a cocky teenager. He’d also been kind, funny and charming.
“You never meant to hurt anyone,” Toni admitted. “Never, even when you pulled your most outrageous stunts.”
“As much as I’d like to agree with that praise, that’s not exactly true.”
“What do you mean?”
He took a deep breath. “It took me a lot of years and, I’ll even admit, a few talks with a therapist, to understand that I was trying to hurt my parents. And punish myself.”
“Wha-what?”
“I know most people didn’t see it, but I had a lot of anger inside me, Toni. My mother…Well, she had her own problems, mainly that she’s an alcoholic. I didn’t see that as a disease. I saw it as a disgusting choice. I thought she was weak. I didn’t like her or what she did. I resented her when she wasn’t awake and aware for me, and I resented her when she was involved and overindulgent.
“Basically, my whole childhood was spent being angry at my mother, whether she slept through me doing something dangerous that she should have stopped or defended me when she should have swatted my bottom or at least given me the mother of all time-outs. And I was angry at my father for not stopping her, for failing to stand up to her. Lots of people had perfect parents, from my point of view. You, the Brodys, the Bells. I had a drunk mother and a weak father.”
“Oh, Wyatt. I had no idea that’s how you saw your childhood. I mean, I understood, when we were seniors, that your mother had a problem. But I didn’t know that’s how you felt.”
“Yeah, I didn’t know it at the time, either. This all came later, after I left Brody’s Crossing. Once I was in college and there was no one to show off for, no one willing to defend me unequivocally, I felt lost.”
Toni reached over and put a gloved hand over his tightly clasped ones. “I’m sorry there was no one there for you.”
“No, it was best. I needed a break. I did leave town because I knew you wanted to get married.” When she started to object, he cut her off. “No, don’t get defensive. Maybe you didn’t expect it right then, but I knew it. You loved me.”
Toni looked down, unable to watch him as she admitted, “Yes, I did.”
“And it was perfectly normal for you to think that we’d get engaged at some point in the next few years, and get married after we graduated from college and settle down like our friends and produce the two-point-three children or whatever.”
She nodded.
“I’m not saying that was unreasonable or unexpected. I’m trying to explain, which I didn’t do a very good job of when we talked a week ago, that I panicked whenever I thought of being married. Of being with one person who had that much control over my happiness. I didn’t realize why until long after I left for college, when I talked to someone—finally—about my resentment.”
“But if you resolved your feelings, why not take a chance with someone? Lord knows, you’ve taken chances on almost everything else in your life. Your education, your business, your adventures. And surely you’ve met a lot of wonderful women, even if I do resent most of them for being so beautiful and talented.”
“I can understand how you’d think that because I understood my issue, I was over it, but old habits die hard. Whenever I thought of being with someone forever, I got what I can only describe as an itchy feeling. It’s like I need to move, run, go. Like I’m someplace I don’t want to be and the only thing to do is get myself someplace else. Anyplace else. That’s not a good thing, when you’re talking about commitment and children and all that.”
“No, it’s not,” Toni said, and sighed. “So, where does that leave us? Nothing has really changed. Why did you come back if you still feel that way?”
“Because,” he said, disengaging one hand and cupping her jaw, “I discovered that I felt itchy when I wasn’t with you.” Then he leaned forward and kissed her, gently. An awakening kiss like he hadn’t given her since they were teenagers first experimenting with simple touches of their lips.
He leaned back slightly and looked into her eyes. “I’m just asking for a chance, Toni. I’m not perfect and I’ll still make mistakes, but can we try?”
“Try what?”
“Having an adult relationship.”
“I…I don’t know. I have to think, and I’ve never been able to think when you’re so close. You overwhelm me, Wyatt.”
“I don’t mean to.”
“I know,” she said softly, “but you do, and that’s something I have to come to terms with before we can go forward.”
“But you’ll try?”
“I promise.”
He smiled, which seemed to light up the stagecoach interior. “That’s all I can ask. For now.”
She took a deep breath and leaned back. “We’d better get back to the Settlers’ Stroll.”
“You’re right. I have to make sure the pretty lady mayor’s reputation isn’t tarnished by the bad bandit.”
“That would be appreciated.”
He kissed her quickly once more, then swung down from the door. Within seconds he was mounted and riding away, the stagecoach lumbering after him. And a few minutes later they’d pulled to a stop in the middle of Main Street, in front of her office.
Wyatt, who had replaced his bandanna mask, opened the door with a flourish for the strollers, who had begun to gather.
“Even I, a lowly bandit, cannot rob such a paragon of the community. Such a beautiful and gracious lady. So I return her to you.” He reached down, kissed her gloved hand and swept his cowboy hat in a courtly bow. Then he was off, mounting his horse.
The nervous animal pranced as Wyatt shouted, “Until we meet again, fair citizens! Beautiful lady!” He galloped away, some giggling children running after him.
Toni stood in the middle of the street, stunned, as people walked up to her. She watched as the bandit disappeared from sight around the corner, out of the streetlamps’ pools of light.
Itchy. Now she understood. She was feeling it, too.
WYATT GAVE THE OWNER-DRIVER of the stagecoach a generous tip after he loaded the last horse back into the trailer. The stagecoach had been rolled onto a flatbed and secured. The driver’s sidekick was also the driver of the truck pulling the flatbed back to Weatherford.
“Drive carefully,” Wyatt said with a wave as they pulled out of McCaskie’s parking lot. With the last of the settlers still strolling downtown, he was finished for the night. Time to check into the motel.
He’d reserved the same room again. This time he’d come to Brody’s Crossing alone, without Cassie or Louisa. “One man on a mission,” he said softly, walking to his rental. He’d picked up a nondescript midsize Chevy SUV this time. He had no particular preference in rental cars, although he liked comfort. He was rather attached to several of the cars in his garage back in Carmel. His custom restored 1971 Ford F-150 pickup was a favorite, but didn’t have the history of the 1982 Trans Am that had been one of the K.I.T.T. cars on Knight Rider, his boyhood favorite television series. He also loved his new red Cadillac CTS and the custom black Land Rover that had just been delivered. His two motorcycles also occupied space in the large garage, which was built into the hillside of his property.
After checking in, he unpacked, removed his bandit clothes and took a quick shower. Later, he watched the end of the Sunday Night Football game stretched out on the king-size bed, warm and comfy in sweats. He must have dozed off, because suddenly he jerked awake, certain he’d heard something. Was that the pinging of pebbles on his window?
Wyatt swung his legs off the bed and immediately felt the aftereffects of his unaccustomed horseback-riding adventure. He’d used muscles in ways that the Nautilus machine in his home gym and the rock wall built into the exterior of his house just couldn’t duplicate. Hobbling to the window, he looked out into the black night. He didn’t see a thing. He listened, but heard nothing else. He went outside, noticing that the wind had picked up from the northwest and the temperature had dropped.
Toni was not in the bushes, trying to get his attention. He must have imagined that she’d come back to the motel, looking for him.
He shivered in the cold night air, then went back inside his room. Tomorrow, he’d begin the courtship of Miss Mayor.
He still balked at the idea of getting married, but he couldn’t deny that he wanted to be with Toni now. Could she take a chance that he might someday want forever? He didn’t know. He knew it was a big gamble.
He’d opened himself to Toni as he’d never done with another person. Which only made sense, since she’d been his best friend, his first lover and the woman he could never forget.
DESPITE TONI’S DOUBTS about Wyatt’s staged abduction, she had to admit the result had been positive. More people than she’d ever expected had come to her office. They’d asked her if she’d known about the stagecoach, if the bandit had indeed surprised her, if a stagecoach was as romantic as a carriage ride. Then they’d nibbled on her food, looked at the architect’s renderings of the hotel project and asked when they could see the inside. Was she going to have a model condo? When would the retail space be ready?
And then Clarissa, Venetia, Bobbi Jean and Ida came in and asked if she and Wyatt were back together again, if he was staying in town and what was up next for them. Toni swore she had nothing planned, doubted that Wyatt did and that she was sure he’d be headed back to California soon. The ladies did not appear to believe her, which was slightly depressing.
If she only focused on her business and her political career, she was happy. If she had to answer personal questions, she’d soon panic.
Whenever she thought about Wyatt’s ability to steal her heart, she felt like running out of her office. Out of town. Out of the state. She hadn’t begun to get over his initial reappearance in her life, and now he was back. How could she gather her defenses when her emotions were such a jumble?
She needed a strong drink—of Earl Grey tea, preferably.
“What’s wrong?” Christie asked as she joined Toni in the small kitchenette area and closed the door behind her.
“Wyatt,” Toni answered, dunking her tea bag vigorously in the hot water. “He was the bandit, of course.”
“I suspected as much. So, was it romantic?”
“No. Being abducted from a public holiday event is embarrassing.”
“But exciting, right?”
“No! I mean, a little bit, but the point is I don’t want to be excited. I want to be…competent. Productive. I want to inspire faith in the people of Brody’s Crossing, not make them snicker about whether the bandit kissed me or not!”
“Well, did he?” Christie asked with a grin.
“Oh! I just want things to go back to normal.”
“Do you? What if Wyatt really cares about you?”
“He’s a billionaire adventurer and a confirmed bachelor. Despite admitting that he returned to town to pursue a relationship with me, I don’t believe he’ll stay.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t believe he’s really changed all that much. I mean, he’s more mature than he was at eighteen and he understands himself better now, but he’s not the type of man who can be happy in a small town with a woman who has to care a lot about her public image.”
“I got the impression everyone liked Wyatt.”
“He’s very likable. He’s charming and he can do things for people, for the town, like no one else.”
“Why are you so sure he won’t stay?”
Toni looked down, feeling overwhelmed again. How could she explain this to Christie, who hadn’t grown up with them? She hadn’t cried with Toni when she’d been jilted by the boyfriend she’d thought she would spend the rest of her life with. “He left me before, Christie, right after graduation. One day we were a couple. The next day he was headed to Stanford, never to look back.” She sniffled, then continued. “That’s the way Wyatt is. Always looking forward. Always ready for the next adventure.”
Christie put her arm around Toni’s shoulders. “Maybe you’re his next big adventure.”
“I don’t think so. I don’t even think I want to be.”
“Aren’t you curious? What if the two of you are meant to be together?”
“This isn’t a movie, Christie. This is my life. He can’t just pop in and think I’m going to change my goals, my responsibilities.”
“Isn’t there any room in your life for him?”
“I don’t think you understand Wyatt—at least the Wyatt I know. You don’t make room for him. He makes room for you.”