CHAPTER 5

Georgie locked up the store at five after what had turned out to be a profitable day thanks to Mac and Travis. Apparently buying camping supplies had turned into a macho competition staged to impress Anastasia. Each cowboy had put a sizable dent in his credit card by the time they’d both walked out loaded down with mattresses, lanterns, and cookware.

After they’d left, Anastasia had peppered Georgie with questions about Mac, questions Georgie couldn’t answer because she didn’t know the guy all that well. So her sister had gone home to immortalize Mac on paper before his image faded from her mind. Her instant attraction to the tall cowboy was disconcerting.

Or maybe it was understandable, given the nunlike existence she and Georgie lived. Georgie didn’t know how Anastasia behaved around single men her own age. There hadn’t been any in Bickford since Anastasia had come home from art school a little over a year ago.

Funny how she’d fought so hard to get there, working to earn scholarships and arguing with her mother, who said the only men she’d meet would be starving artists. Privately Georgie wondered if a starving artist had broken Anastasia’s tender heart while she was away at school. She’d returned a more subdued person who’d lost most of her enthusiasm for her work and hadn’t pursued getting a job in her field. Instead she’d appointed herself Georgie’s assistant at the store.

Georgie hadn’t glimpsed her sister’s old spark until this afternoon when she’d laid eyes on Mac. Regardless of how this turned out, seeing Anastasia excited enough to rush home and draw the guy’s picture had been gratifying. But would that spark disappear when Mac drove away tomorrow?

If it did, Georgie vowed to figure out a way to solve this problem of two single twentysomething women in a town composed primarily of senior citizens. It wasn’t good for either of them, but leaving wasn’t an option, at least not for Georgie. Anastasia seemed fond of the town, too. The few times she had been inspired to work with her watercolors, she’d created some lovely scenes, many of them featuring either the historic hotel or the Victorian house she, Georgie, and Evelyn lived in.

The house was located at the far end of Main Street, two blocks from the Bickford Hotel. When it was built, it had been the grandest home in town. Actually, it still was. Georgie blessed her father for teaching her about home maintenance during the years after her mother died when only Georgie and her dad had lived there.

She couldn’t have been much help at two or three, but she distinctly remembered helping him nail down a loose board on the porch when she was only four. By five she was pretty good with a paint brush, and by six she could replace the stopper on a toilet tank and rewire a doorbell. She’d been eight and quite the experienced handy-girl when he’d married Evelyn.

The lessons hadn’t been the same after that because her father had tried to bring Charmaine and Anastasia up to speed. He’d believed every woman should know basic home maintenance, but Evelyn had told him that was nonsense and so Charmaine hadn’t been interested, either. Anastasia had tried, but she’d been dreamy even back then. She’d forget what she was doing and dump over a bucket of paint or spill a box of nails.

She hadn’t changed. She’d desperately wanted to help Georgie paint the clapboards and gingerbread trim last October. Her work had been perfect, but she’d fallen off the ladder twice and Georgie had been sick with worry each time. Finally she’d assigned her sister to ground-floor painting, only.

The house looked great, though. In early evening the outside color was still visible as lights began to glow from behind the lace-curtained windows. Georgie loved the slate blue that Anastasia had picked out. When combined with the white trim, it gave the two-story Victorian a crisp, clean facade. Anastasia had added another subtle touch to the spindle posts holding up the porch roof. They were painted white, but each indentation was defined by a slim line of slate blue. Classy.

As always, Georgie climbed the porch steps with a mixture of love and frustration. The house was home, but it didn’t belong to her. Instead it belonged to a woman who didn’t give a damn about it. Without Georgie around to replace washers in faucets and fix loose shingles on the roof, the place would be in trouble. An old house needed upkeep. The effort was well worth it, in Georgie’s estimation, but then again, she cherished the history contained within these walls.

The front door, with its oval glass insert, had been hung when she was seven during her father’s campaign to make the house more energy efficient. The campaign was ongoing even now. Georgie longed to replace the upstairs windows but she’d have to get permission from Evelyn, who’d already said it wasn’t necessary. Evelyn had agreed to the paint because the store got it at a discount and the labor had been free. Windows would cost much more.

As Georgie walked into the hall, a reality show blared from the plasma TV Evelyn had bought recently. The screen was huge and ruined the look of the dainty parlor, but Georgie had nothing to say about that, either. She didn’t have to glance in the room to know that Evelyn would be sitting there with a pitcher of martinis.

Anastasia bounded down the stairs dressed in her best jeans and a shirt decorated in sequins. She had a jacket in one hand and a rolled piece of paper in the other. She paused to stare at Georgie. “I thought you’d be at Sadie’s! I was going to meet you over there.”

Georgie stared right back. “Who are you and what have you done with my sister?”

She laughed. “I know, right? I never go to Sadie’s, but I want to give Mac this.” She unrolled the paper. “What do you think?”

Georgie gazed at Mac, perfectly captured in charcoal from the tilt of his hat to the slight smile lifting the corners of his mouth. “Amazing. I almost expect him to start telling a joke. You’re so talented.”

“Thanks, but it’s easy when I have the right subject. This practically drew itself. I sat down, picked up a piece of charcoal, and before I knew it, there he was.” She looked at the sketch and uncertainty crept into her voice for the first time. “I hope he likes it.”

“Are you kidding? He’ll be flattered out of his mind. Vince and Travis will be jealous and want you to draw them, too.”

“You think?”

“I don’t think. I know. If Mac has a portrait of himself, they won’t want to leave here without one, too.”

“Should I take my sketch pad? I wouldn’t mind doing one of each of them. That would be kind of fun, actually.”

“Yes, take it. I’ll come with you.”

“Cool.” She started back upstairs and Georgie followed.

“While you get your stuff, I’ll change into something more festive. After all, it’s Saturday night!”

“It is!” Anastasia ducked into her room. “Meet you on the front porch in ten minutes.”

“You got it.” Georgie hurried down the hall and into her room at the back of the house. Anastasia’s shy eagerness touched her heart. This might turn into the artistic kick in the pants her sister needed to start drawing again on a regular basis. If only they had tourists in town the way they used to, she would have a built-in customer base for her charcoal portraits.

They didn’t have that, but for one night, her sister could shine, and even better, she seemed excited about doing that. The arrival of those three cowboys was shaking things up. Considering the melancholy atmosphere that had taken hold of the town and its residents, a little shake-up was a good thing. The issue of the Ghost and his herd hadn’t gone away, but Georgie was willing to set that aside for now and focus on Anastasia’s renewed creativity.

Ten minutes wasn’t much time to transform from a shop clerk to a fun-loving cowgirl, but Georgie made the most of every second. She opened her closet and took out her jeans with rhinestones on the pockets. After wiggling into them, she pulled on red boots she’d bought ages ago for dancing. Then she unhooked a red silk shirt from its hanger and put that on.

A quick brush through her hair, a refresh of her lipstick and blush, and she was ready to go. She grabbed a jean jacket and tucked some money in her pocket. How long had it been since she’d headed to Sadie’s knowing that some good-looking cowboys were there? Years. Not since Vince had left.

She missed those days. Not Vince, of course, but the fun that had swirled around him. He’d created an atmosphere of celebration the moment he’d walked into the saloon. His grin had said plainly let’s get this party started.

Too bad he’d come up with this dumb plan to capture the Ghost, but maybe going to Sadie’s wasn’t a bad idea in that respect, either. She’d approached the problem like a soldier marching into battle, but Anastasia was having better luck by being friendly. What if a few charcoal portraits mellowed the guys out so they decided not to round up any horses in the morning? Much as she longed to duke it out with Vince, settling things peacefully would be better.

Walking down the sidewalk with Anastasia reminded her of old times with Janet. Yet her little sister wasn’t Janet, and the street was dark and deserted except for the streetlamps and the lights of the hotel at the far end of town. Four years ago the shops would have been busy at this hour. Georgie used to keep the general store open until nine, and then Janet would show up and they’d head toward Sadie’s. The sidewalk had been crowded with well-heeled Double J guests looking for souvenirs or a bite to eat.

“I’m glad we’re doing this,” Anastasia said. “I’ve always felt sort of cheated because I was too young to go when you used to party with the cowboys, and when I was finally old enough, it was all gone.”

“I know. I wonder if anyone in town realized how precarious our situation was, depending on the Double J the way we did. The town should have figured out how to attract tourists on its own and grow our reputation as a quaint little vacation spot. But no one thought of that, and I have no idea how to make it happen now.”

“Yeah, it’s like, come to Bickford and be depressed by all the boarded-up storefronts. I’m sure people would sign up for that.”

“It does seem sort of hopeless, but I’ve decided one thing about you and me.”

“We’re getting matching tattoos?”

“No.” She laughed. “What made you think of that?”

“I’ve always wanted to get a tattoo, but I’d be chicken to get it by myself. I almost— Well, never mind.”

“Hey, you can’t start a sentence with I almost and then drop it.” Georgie had a pretty good idea what this was all about and thought maybe now was the time for Anastasia to unburden herself.

“I almost got matching tattoos with this guy at art school.”

“Was he a rat fink bastard?”

“As it turns out.”

Georgie put her arm around her sister’s shoulders and gave her a quick hug. “Sorry.”

“At least I found out before I got the tattoo. Those suckers are horrible to get rid of, from what I’ve heard. If you and I did it, I wouldn’t worry about wanting to laser it off someday.”

“Thank you. That’s a real compliment.”

“I meant it to be.” She hesitated. “And for the record, Charmaine thinks you’re pretty cool, too.”

“She does? I thought I was nothing but a pain in the ass to her.”

“Oh, she resented the hell out of you for a lot of years, especially when you marched her home from Sadie’s that night. She was spitting nails. But now that she’s older, she realizes that having us and Mom move in must have been rough on you.”

Georgie was stunned. And ashamed of herself for thinking that Charmaine was in Dallas sucking up money without a single thought to how that affected everyone else. “I . . . I haven’t given Charmaine enough credit, I guess.”

“Don’t go giving her too much credit. She’s agreed to Mom’s program of trapping some rich dude, and she loves the salon appointments and the cool clothes. That’s Charmaine. Always has been, always will be. But still, she understands you’re the glue holding things together.”

“That’s . . . nice to hear.” Knowing that Charmaine felt that way brought a lump to her throat. A little embarrassed by her reaction, she turned the comment into a joke. “Are you saying this is a sticky situation?”

“Yeah.” Anastasia grinned at her. “And it’s your fault, considering you’re the glue and all.”

“Maybe we need a vat of Goo-Gone so everyone can get unstuck.”

“Nope, I’m glad I’m stuck with you, and so’s Charmaine. I love Mom, but she shouldn’t be in charge of the money. Your dad screwed up by leaving everything to her. He should have left it to you.”

Georgie knew how that would have turned out. Evelyn would have challenged the will. “That might have created another set of problems. Plus, I wouldn’t be sending Charmaine money to finance your mother’s plan.”

“I know.” Anastasia blew out a gusty sigh. “I told her Charmaine would have to sacrifice herself, because I won’t. The whole concept creeps me out. It’s so nineteenth century.”

“But if Charmaine’s fine with it and she finds herself a millionaire, then—”

“Mom’s hoping for a billionaire.”

“Oh, jeez.”

“Yeah. But she’d settle for a millionaire.”

“Okay, either way, if Charmaine comes through, your mom can move to Dallas. I know she hates it here.”

“And you’d get your house back,” Anastasia said quietly.

“No, that’s not what I meant.” But it actually was. She had to be more careful about telegraphing how much she wanted her stepmother out of that house. Despite Evelyn’s flaws, Anastasia loved her. If Evelyn moved away, Anastasia might go with her. That would kind of suck.

“It’s okay, Georgie. I get it. You have all the responsibility and none of the power.”

Georgie shrugged. “Oh, well. Can’t do anything about that at this very moment, so let’s forget about it for now.” She gestured toward the door that led into Sadie’s Saloon. “Besides, we’re here.”

“I know, and I’m nervous as hell. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, after all.”

“Coming down for a drink or showing Mac your drawing?”

“Both, but mostly showing him my work. I’m having second thoughts about that.”

Georgie turned to face her. “I don’t want to push you into anything, but I can guarantee that all three of those cowboys will be impressed. How long has it been since you’ve shown your work to anyone besides your immediate family?”

“Not since I left art school.”

“You got out of the habit, so of course you’re nervous. But what good is talent if it’s not shared?”

Anastasia smiled. “You sound like one of my professors. Okay, I’ll do it, as long as we walked down here and I have you as backup.”

“I’ll be right there, but just remember how much you loved drawing that picture and how eager you were to give it to him right after it was finished. If he’d been standing at the bottom of the stairs in our house, you would have handed it over immediately. But now you’ve had a chance to think about it and you’ve got cold feet. That’s only natural.”

“And speaking of cold feet, it’s chilly out here! Let’s go in where it’s warm.”

“Exactly. But promise you’ll show him the picture right away. Don’t put it off, or you might change your mind.”

“Damn, Georgie. You know me too well. Okay, right away, the minute we get in there.” Taking a deep breath, she opened the door.

As Georgie followed her inside, she noticed that the cowboys sat at the bar in the same order they’d taken the night before, with Travis closest to the door, Mac in the middle, and Vince on the far side. They all glanced toward the door in unison and wore matching expressions of astonishment, as if the moment had been choreographed. Georgie worked hard to keep from laughing.

Ike looked surprised, too, but he recovered more quickly than the others. “Welcome, ladies! I didn’t expect the pleasure of your company tonight. Have a seat wherever you like. What can I get you?”

“Red wine for me,” Georgie said.

“A draft for me.” Anastasia set down her messenger bag and pulled out the sketch. “But first I have something for Mac, if he wants it.” She held it toward him.

Mac’s eyes widened as he carefully took the sheet of paper. Then he sucked in a breath. “Damn!”

“Let’s see.” Vince left his stool and peered over Mac’s shoulder. “Wow. That’s incredible.”

“It is.” Travis shook his head. “You are one lucky SOB, Mac Foster, getting something that awesome.”

Mac lifted his gaze. “I don’t know what to say, Anastasia. This is the best thing anyone’s ever given me.”

Georgie could have kissed him. When she glanced over at Anastasia, her little sister sparkled brighter than the chandelier hanging in the hotel lobby. In that moment, Georgie decided that dealing with these cowboys might be worth the trouble, after all.