Trisha drew back the heavy curtain and peered out at the audience.
“There are twice as many people here than for the opening night,” she whispered.
Samantha took her turn at peering through the opening. “That’s because Marguerite invited all their readers who’d helped with the draw count.”
“She was so positive they’d get it wrapped up by noon.” Trisha let the curtain drop and stepped off the stage. “But I still can’t believe they did it. What an achievement.”
“With time to spare,” Samantha agreed. “Marguerite told me they were relaxing with coffee and donuts by eleven o’clock this morning.”
Trisha flicked a glance to the back of the stage and grinned. “I think it’s quite a novel idea to stack all the boxes of draw tickets the way they have done with the easels behind them. It looks a bit like they are all in a fort.”
“Actually that was my idea.” Samantha looked very pleased with herself. “It’s in honor of Fort Calgary. I thought it rather went with the Stampede theme.”
Marguerite, resplendent in turquoise and silver jewelry, a beaded and fringed deerskin jacket, black broomstick skirt and highly polished boots, approached and smiled broadly at them. “Everything’s under control. I had a word here and there and Brent’s been under surveillance. I don’t think you have a thing to worry about, Trisha, but I do wish you’d agree to finish off the event by making the presentation to the winner.”
Trisha shook her head. “That honor’s all yours. I’ve done my bit but I am curious. Who scored the most draw tickets?”
A genuinely amused chuckle burst from Marguerite. “That’s rich coming from the lady who said she had a week to make her decision for picking the winning photograph. You’ll just have to wait.”
With that she swept to centre stage and waited for the curtain to rise.
A murmur of voices and a shuffling of feet made Trisha look round. She saw six of the contestants being shepherded into place by a stage hand. She searched their faces and breathed a sigh of relief when she realized Brent Heywood was not amongst them and must be on the far side of the stage. She nodded to Jason Creevey, who grinned at her. The glint in his eye told her he didn’t give a joe darn that she’d seen him practically in the buff. She gave a thumbs up sign to Greg Tooley and turned back to listen to the rest of Marguerite’s presentation.
She crossed her fingers and sent up a silent prayer.
“And so we come to the part of the afternoon that everyone is waiting for.” Marguerite could hardly be heard above the racket from the ballroom. “But before I announce the number one model, I want to thank the Samantha Monroe Modeling Agency for producing this event. All the finalists will be offered a modeling contract with the Agency, but there is only one name on this piece of paper.”
She produced a folded piece of paper and waved it above her head.
“We want it now,” yelled someone from the middle of the crowd.
Marguerite smiled and leaned in to the microphone. “Before I reveal the winner, I would like you all to put your hands together for these fine gentlemen.”
She called them one by one from alternate sides of the stage. As Jason Creevey passed Trisha he gave her a broad wink and she couldn’t help but smile as he took his place in front of his photograph. Each professional studio shot was a replica of the tuxedo dressed contestant in front of it with not a naked body amongst them.
Marguerite waited until the applause died down. She fanned her face with the folded paper before leaning to the microphone again.
“All these gentlemen are winners in my book,” another round of applause rippled through the room. “But,” she unfolded the paper, took her time reading the name on it and paused again before looking along the line of hopeful faces behind her, “the winner from both the ballot and as selected by our judge is—Mr. Jason Creevey.”
The noise in the room doubled as Jason stepped up beside Marguerite. He waved to the rowdy fans, handling his accolades with graceful good humor and none of the self-centered attitude she had sensed in some of the other entrants. With his kind of looks he could portray either a hero or a villain. Trisha smiled with satisfaction. At least she’d done something right.
“Was it because he was naked?” Samantha’s eyes brightened with a hint of lasciviousness.
Trisha shook her head. “Nope. Believe it or not, it was simply the expression in his eyes. The photographer did a good job of capturing it and I’d love to know what she asked Jason to think of to draw it out of him in the first place. The others just didn’t have that spark.”
“She?” Samantha looked surprised.
“Oh, yes,” Trisha chuckled. “I had to look at the photographers’ credentials too. If they were complete amateurs I had to balance that with the overall criteria of what I was looking for. And don’t you dare ever drop me into something like this again.”
“Oh, get over yourself.” Samantha snorted, but there was no censure in her voice. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go and talk to all my lovely new men.”
With a graceful turn Samantha slid away backstage. Trisha watched the contestants file off the stage but Jason stopped beside her and kissed her on the cheek.
“Couldn’t resist me, could you?” he murmured in her ear.
She took no offense at his question, hearing in his voice the same self-mockery she’d seen in his eyes. This man just did not take himself seriously.
“Tell me something,” she said, and laughed as he bowed over her hand and promised to tell her anything she wanted to hear. “What did your photographer ask you when she took your shower shot?”
Jason grinned. “She asked me to seduce her with my eyes. Guess it worked.”
Trisha congratulated him and laughed as he walked away to join the group of guys gathering around Samantha. She frowned when she noticed that Brent Heywood was not amongst them. An uneasy tremor zigzagged down her back. She looked about her, concerned that despite Marguerite’s promise she had everything under control. He might be loitering close by ready to accost her.
Before she could give Brent any more thought, Marguerite hurried up to her. Her cheeks were rosy with excitement and her blue eyes sparked.
“Come on,” she said. “We’re all going out to celebrate.”
Trisha allowed herself to be caught up in the whirl of well being but a chilly uncertainty hovered at the edge of her enjoyment of the moment.
Just where was Brent Heywood?
* * *
“If you ask me,” the girl with dark brown curls said as she took the stool beside him, “you were robbed.”
Brent looked down at her with an expression of disdain on his face. “I didn’t ask you.”
The girl sighed. “Can’t blame you for being out of sorts. Can I get you another beer?”
His grunt may have been a yes or a no but he slugged down the drink he already had. No point in missing out if some chick wanted to chat him up. “And a whiskey chaser.”
“I’m Annie,” the girl said by way of introduction after she’d ordered the drinks. “What do you plan to do now?”
Brent shrugged. He’d planned to party but there was fat chance of that now and his once bright future was alarmingly dim. “Move on now this is over, I suppose, but I haven’t a clue where that might be.”
Annie licked her lips suggestively. “Well, if you’re not in too much of hurry, we could move on to my place. I could offer all sorts of consolation prizes.”
Brent brightened a little at that. Free booze here and a bed for the night with her didn’t sound like a bad deal at all. In anticipation of improving his accommodation, at least for the rest of the weekend, he’d already checked out of his motel. He had no intention of checking back in. He loosened up a little with the next round of drinks, some more with the round after that and was quite relaxed when Annie smiled invitingly at him and pressed a kiss on his cheek.
“Just tell me when you’re ready to go,” she told him.
“How about right now?” He stumbled slightly as he stood up. Hell, he hadn’t drunk that much had he?
She took his arm and led him out into the car park where she helped him into her car. She smiled as he fumbled with the safety belt, finally took pity on him and fastened it for him.
“Where’re we goin’?” Brent mumbled as he slumped back in his seat.
“I told you. My place. It’s in Mission.”
“Nice,” Brent murmured.
Annie didn’t think he knew where Mission was located, but it didn’t matter. She drove around her block a few times while Brent snored lightly beside her. When she pulled into the curb outside of her house her room-mate, Tova, came out to meet her.
“How is he?” she asked.
“Sleeping like a baby,” Annie replied. For the first time since she’d been asked to help, she frowned with sudden concern. “He won’t be hurt, will he?”
“No,” Tova assured her. “We’ve arranged an overnight trip for him just to get him out of the way for the rodeo finals tomorrow but we have to hurry. Do you want me to drive?”
Before they could swap seats Brent opened his eyes and struggled upright. He stared uncomprehendingly at the blonde girl standing beside the car.
“Are you an angel?” he croaked.
She reached into the car and stroked his cheek. “I am tonight, cowboy.”
“Thas’ all right then.” His eyes fell closed with much less effort than it had taken to open them. As his head dropped down towards his shoulder he snored again. This time the snore was followed by the soft flutter of air as it escaped from between his slack lips.
“Whew,” Annie breathed. “I thought he was going to wake up.”
“Not for a long time,” Tova told her. “Come on, get in the back and let me drive. It’ll be easier than giving you directions.”
Annie slipped into the back seat and had barely buckled up before they were on the move again. Brent’s head rocked against the seat as they turned corners, settled again as they waited for lights to change and didn’t move again as they continued their trip. Annie wasn’t sure where they were going, but at last Tova turned into the parking lot of a big truck stop. She slowed to a crawl, looking left and right until she spotted a horse trailer. She stopped beside it and a large figure in plaid shirt and jeans got out of the truck.
“That’s my boyfriend, Mack,” Tova said with a chuckle, having caught sight of Annie’s startled expression in the rearview mirror.
“Hey, babe, any problems?” Mack asked as he opened the door for her.
“Nope. It all worked like a charm.” Tova got out of the car, slipped her arms around Mack’s waist and hugged him. “Oh, and by the way, did you know I’m an angel?”
Annie didn’t hear the muffled response as Mack reached into the car and hauled Brent’s inert body out.
“Where are you taking him?” she asked.
Mack flashed a quick grin. “I’m not taking him anywhere. But my friend Wade Polanski here is. He didn’t score enough points in the wagon racing this week to make it worth his while staying to the end of Stampede, so he’s heading on up to Grande Prairie and the Peace country to see what damage he can do there.”
“Whoa, bud,” Wade objected as he opened the trailer door. “Less of that damage talk. Here, tumble that fella inta’ this stall beside my gear.”
Between them the two men propped Brent’s slumbering body into an empty stall between a stack of harness and a pile of blankets while the already loaded horses munched on hay, apparently unperturbed at their strange travelling companion.
Wade closed and secured the door while Mack dusted off his jeans.
“What’d he do anyway?” Wade asked as they shook hands.
“He threatened to put my brother’s horse out of action.”
“Hell,” Wade grunted. “That ain’t right. Cameron’s got a chance tomorrow then?”
Mack grinned broadly. “Best he’s ever had.”
Wade tipped his hat to the girls and got back into his truck. He turned the engine, let it run for a few seconds then hauled out of the lot with a final wave of his hand to Mack.
“Okay, ladies,” Mack said as his friend rolled away down the road, “what would you like to do for the rest of this evening?”
“Go to the Ranchman’s,” said Tova, slipping her arm through his. “How ‘bout you, Annie?”
“Sorry to be a bore, guys.” Annie covered a yawn with the back of her hand.” If it’s all the same to you, I’m going home. All this subterfuge stuff has worn me out. By the way, what exactly was it I dropped in Brent’s drink?”
Tova chuckled. “Just a dose of benzo. He’ll sleep like a baby tonight and probably have a bit of a hangover tomorrow, but Mack gave Wade some money to give to him so he won’t be destitute. We’re probably kinder to him than he deserves, but at least he can’t do any harm if he’s out of the way. Want to come to the rodeo finals with us tomorrow?”
“I’d love to but I’m afraid I can’t,” Annie said as she got into her car. Mack folded himself in beside her and Tova scrambled into the back. “I’m on duty tomorrow and have to be at the airport for three o’clock. After all this, I hope your brother wins Mack.”
Mack acknowledged her good wishes with a brief nod but a soft expression settled on his mouth. He’d not been around much in the last few years but, regardless of the issues that had driven them apart, he wanted the best for his brother too.
“So do I Annie,” he said. “So do I.”