CHAPTER 2

Vince tried to block out Georgie’s presence because she was damned distracting. He could feel her judgmental gaze boring into his back, and as a result he was drinking more than he should and pretending that Mac’s and Travis’s stories were more hysterical than they actually were. Fortunately the beer helped calm his nerves and made the stories funnier. Great invention.

He raised his bottle. “Gentlemen, I propose a toast. To the inventor of this tasty beverage. I’m betting there was a cowboy involved.”

“You’d lose that bet.” Mac picked up the glass in front of him and studied its contents. “Beer was the preferred drink of the pharaohs, my friend.”

Travis laughed. “Yeah, right. You’re making that shit up like you always do.”

Ike leaned on the bar. “Actually, he’s right. Beer’s ten thousand years old, at least.”

“It is?” Vince narrowed his eyes at Mac. “How’d you know that?”

“I read.” Mac looked extremely proud of himself. “You should try it sometime, Vince.”

“Hey, I read! Just never ran across that factoid.”

“Me, either,” Travis said. “Pharaohs drank beer. Who knew? Speaking of which, did I ever show you guys my Egyptian dance routine?”

“Unfortunately.” Mac rolled his eyes. “Several times.”

“Well, it’s been a few years since you’ve seen it. I think I should refresh your memory.”

“Don’t feel obligated on our account,” Vince said.

“You’re both jealous because you can’t bend your arms right.” Travis climbed off his stool and angled one arm in front and one in back as he strutted along and bobbed his head while humming “Walk Like an Egyptian.”

Ike laughed so hard he had to take off his glasses and wipe his eyes. “That’s good, Travis. Real good. Especially wearing a cowboy hat.”

“Don’t encourage him,” Mac said, “or he’ll be doing that all night.”

“Hey.” Travis reclaimed his stool. “You’re the one who brought up the pharaoh subject. I’m just elaborating on the theme. I didn’t realize beer is such a noble drink.”

“It is that,” Mac said. “The Egyptians considered it sacred.”

Travis grinned. “In that case, maybe I should do another dance. Want to see me dance again?”

“No, we want to see you drink.” Vince finished off his bottle. “Another, if you please, Ike.”

“I sure as hell consider beer sacred.” Travis shoved his empty bottle across the bar. “Hit me again, Ike.”

“You bet.” Ike seemed quite cheerful about serving up the beer.

Vince thought about the sorry state of Bickford. So what if they all drank a little more than they should tonight? It was a celebration and the town could use the money.

“Don’t know if you came across the Mayflower in your beer-related research, Mac.” Ike set a bottle in front of Vince and Travis.

“His research?” Travis chortled with glee. “Vince, did you know we had a scholar among us?”

“A beer scholar at that.” Vince nodded. “Probably has a Ph.B.”

Travis smirked. “Yeah, B for bullshit.”

“Never mind the village idiots.” Mac looked at Ike. “What about the Mayflower?”

“The Pilgrims landed on Plymouth Rock mostly because they were running out of beer.” Ike had a twinkle in his eye.

Travis stared at him. “That can’t be right. I’ll bet ten bucks you’re making that up.” He slapped two fives on the bar.

“You’re on.” Ike fished out his wallet and put a ten on top of Travis’s two fives.

“I’m betting Ike’s right.” Mac added another two fives. “Vince, which way you leaning?”

“Beer on the Mayflower?” He added a ten to the pile. “I’m with Travis on this one. Can’t picture those folks in the gray outfits knocking back the booze. How do we settle it?”

“We have to Google it.” Ike glanced around the group. “Who has Internet on his phone? I left mine at home.”

“Old phone, here.” Travis held his up. “I’m a poor cowhand.”

Mac shook his head. “I have basic service.”

“Me, too.” Vince shrugged. “Guess we’re SOL.” He started to retrieve his bet.

“Not so fast,” Ike said. “Georgie has Internet on her phone.”

As all three cowboys swiveled their stools around to face Georgie’s table, Vince wondered if she’d refuse to look up the info for them. Probably not, though. The Georgie he remembered had liked being a source of knowledge. According to what he’d heard, she would have preferred to stay in school, but she’d had to drop out to save her late father’s cherished general store from going belly-up. Apparently her stepmother was no help.

Ike came out from behind the bar and approached Georgie’s table. “We need to settle a bet. Would you look something up on your phone, please?”

“For you, Ike, I’d be happy to.” She smiled and pulled her phone out of the pocket of her jeans. “You want to know if the Pilgrims had beer on the Mayflower, right?” She tapped the information into her phone.

Ike nodded. “Right.”

So she’d been following their conversation. Vince wondered if she’d been listening in hopes she could figure out a way to upset their plans. He wasn’t about to allow that.

Georgie consulted her phone. “So who’s betting on the Pilgrims having beer on board?”

“Me and Mac,” Ike said. “I know I read it somewhere.”

“According to this, they did.” Georgie held up her phone. “They decided to land because they were out of supplies, chiefly beer. Apparently beer didn’t go bad on a long voyage, while water did.”

Mac hopped off his stool and snatched a startled Georgie out of her chair. “Thank you, sweet lady!” He swung her around in a brief victory dance. “You brought the light of reason to dispel the darkness of ignorance.”

“Oh, hell.” Travis glanced at Vince. “It’s getting deep in here.”

“No kidding.” Watching Mac dance with Georgie brought back memories of Saturday nights when he’d been the one holding her like that. They’d danced well together and had seemed to anticipate each other’s moves. She’d never said he was her favorite partner, but he’d known it, anyway. Those days were long gone, though, and he’d do well to forget about them.

Travis swiveled back toward the bar. “After all that talk about beer, I could use another one.”

“Me, too.” Vince turned his back on the sight of Mac escorting Georgie to her chair.

Then Mac added insult to injury by returning to his stool and leaning close to Vince. “You’re playing this all wrong, buddy. You’d catch more flies with honey, if you get my meaning.”

Vince’s jaw tightened. “She won’t be a problem.”

“You could guarantee that with a different approach.” Mac picked up his beer.

Vince wasn’t so sure about that. He still wondered what she’d meant by that over my dead body comment. It continued to gnaw at him as he tried to imagine what stunt she might pull to keep them from going after the Ghost. He’d have to be on his guard. He’d always known she was smart.

She’d mentioned that Ed’s riding stable only had four horses in it. He maybe ought to see if three of them were available before he let any more time go by. With her considerable influence in this town, she could fix it so he and his buddies had no transportation out to the maze of canyons where the Ghost kept his little band.

Reaching in his pocket, he pulled out his phone. It didn’t have Internet, but it suited him just fine. “Ike, you got a number for Ed’s stable?”

“I do.” Ike reached under the counter, pulled out a card, and pushed it toward Vince. “That’s his cell. He’s probably at supper, but he keeps his phone on.”

“I hate to interrupt his meal, but I want to make sure we have some horses to ride tomorrow.”

“Right.” Ike’s gaze flicked over Vince’s shoulder to where Georgie had returned to eating her barbecue and drinking her wine.

As Vince dialed Ed’s number, Mac leaned toward him. “You could hold off ’til tomorrow morning.”

“I don’t think so. He only has four horses.”

“Yeah, but there are zero tourists in town, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

“Besides us.”

“We’re not tourists. We’re cowboys.”

“Without horses.” Vince turned away as Ed answered. The stable owner sounded as if he had a mouthful of food.

Vince identified himself and apologized for interrupting Ed’s dinner before launching into his request. “Mac Foster and Travis Langdon are here with me, and we’d like to rent three of your horses for tomorrow.”

“Absolutely!” Ed quickly swallowed. “When?”

Vince considered that. The best time to locate any wild animal was early morning. “Six thirty.”

Beside him, Mac groaned.

“Hang on, Ed.” Vince grinned at Mac. “Make it six forty-five.”

Mac shook his head. “I always knew you were a sadistic SOB.”

“Six forty-five it is, then,” Ed confirmed. “I’ll have ’em saddled and ready.”

“Great. We’ll be there.” Vince disconnected the phone. “We’re all set. Ed seemed real glad for the business.”

“I’m sure he is.” Mac scowled at him. “But what’s this crack-of-dawn routine? I thought we were on vacation.”

“No, Mac,” Travis said. “We’re on a quest. Isn’t that right, Vince?”

“That’s a perfect description. And you don’t start a quest at noon. Anybody knows that. You start at dawn.”

Travis raised his beer bottle. “To the quest.”

“To the quest!” Vince leaned over and tapped Travis’s bottle with his. “Mac? You in?”

Mac grimaced and raised his glass with a decided lack of enthusiasm. “To the quest.”

From the direction of Georgie’s table came a snort of disgust. Well, let her be disgusted. He had the horses reserved and come morning, they’d head out. He couldn’t think of any way she could stop them.

*   *   *

The impromptu dance with Mac had flustered Georgie. She wasn’t used to being swirled into a dance without warning. Such a thing hadn’t happened to her in years, not since the Double J cowhands had left town.

Her heart continued to race after Mac returned her to her seat and her half-finished meal. Mac didn’t interest her, either. None of them did. But she’d forgotten how lovely it was to be caught up in strong arms and whisked around the floor, even without the benefit of music.

She’d forgotten how much she’d enjoyed the company of virile men, too. These three cowboys weren’t her cup of tea, not by a long shot, but they certainly were . . . male. Exceedingly so. She gulped her wine.

What a fine mess she’d created for herself. By staying in Bickford and attempting to help save the town from total ruin, she’d suppressed hormonal urges that any typical twenty-eight-year-old woman would welcome. Doing that had been easy when no attractive, single men were in the vicinity.

When the cowboys left town Sunday night, the number of single guys her age would drop to zero once again. She’d been so busy worrying about the store and the town that she hadn’t stopped to think that if things continued as they were, she could end up dateless for some time to come. She was willing to sacrifice a lot for the future of Bickford, but she hadn’t intended to sacrifice her sex life.

Anastasia didn’t have anybody to date in Bickford, either, but she didn’t seem all that concerned about it. Georgie’s stepmother, Evelyn, wouldn’t want Anastasia to end up with someone from Bickford, anyway. She’d been trying to convince Anastasia to go live with Charmaine in Dallas so they could both find wealthy husbands, but Anastasia had resisted the plan.

Despite her art school training, she seemed content to help out at the store. Unfortunately she was such a dreamer that Georgie hesitated to leave her alone there. She’d once flooded the back room when she’d forgotten about the water running in the sink, and another time she’d almost burned the place down with a scented candle she’d set under a hand towel.

Georgie had finished her dinner and was about to leave when Clyde Abbott, the eightysomething mayor of Bickford and a dear friend, walked into the saloon. If she’d been paying attention to the time, she would have expected him. He was always the first to arrive for the nightly poker game.

Short and plump, he’d been married to his wife, Inez, for sixty years. She was thin and a good six inches taller than Clyde. They adored each other and attributed their happy marriage to giving each other plenty of space. Clyde played poker with his cronies every night and Inez watched crime drama on TV.

Clyde surveyed the three men sitting at the bar before making his way over to Georgie’s table and pulling out a chair. “Those boys look familiar,” he said in a low voice. “Did they work at the Double J?”

Georgie nodded and quietly gave him a rundown. Clyde was the only member of the council besides her who wasn’t partially deaf. That allowed them to talk about the newcomers without being heard. She filled him in on the cowboys’ plan to round up the Ghost and Ike’s belief that they’d be too hungover to manage it.

Clyde kept glancing at the newcomers as she talked. When she was finished, he focused his attention on her. “I’m sure this upsets you.”

“Yep.”

“Let’s think about this logically, Georgie.” Clyde’s recent cataract surgery meant he didn’t have to wear glasses. His gaze was sharp and clear. “Your Ghost may be a little slower, but he’s smarter, too.”

“I hope so.” She appreciated Clyde’s understanding more than she could say. Of all the people in town, he and Anastasia were the only two with some idea of what the horses meant to her. “And he’s not my Ghost. I don’t have any claim to him.”

“Nobody does, which is the point. But he’s your project, so that’s all I meant. I’m inclined to think Ike is right and this problem will take care of itself.”

“They’ve rented three of Ed’s horses. Vince did that a little while ago. They’re supposed to pick them up at six forty-five.”

Raucous laughter erupted from the trio perched on the barstools.

Clyde lifted his bushy white eyebrows. “Hear that?”

“I know, but—”

“It’s the sound of happy cowboys tanked up on beer. They won’t be in any shape to round up a slow-moving armadillo at six forty-five in the morning, let alone a spirited animal like the Ghost. You can relax, Georgie. Your wild stallion is safe.”

“Okay, Clyde. I bow to your experience in these matters.”

“And we mustn’t forget that as long as they’re here, they’re spending money in Bickford. We get precious few visitors these days.”

She sighed. “I know. I briefly thought about asking Ed not to provide them with horses, but Ed, like everybody around here, needs the money.”

“We all do—that’s for sure. Steve told me he’d rented three rooms this weekend, and I nearly fell over. I didn’t recognize the names, but now that I see them, I recognize the faces. Whenever those three came into town, the bar tabs at Sadie’s doubled. They were a draw.”

“Guess so.”

He gazed at the men sitting at the bar. “I’d sure love to have those days back.”

“Without an operation like the Double J, I don’t know how we can generate the same kind of excitement.”

“I’m well aware of that. Inez, bless her heart, keeps suggesting that we have a bake sale, or enlist all the women in town to make quilts and sell those. I don’t know how to tell her that those wouldn’t generate the kind of revenue required. We need something more dramatic than that if we expect to turn things around.”

“I know, and I’ve been racking my brain to come up with proposals for Monday night’s meeting.”

He turned to her, his expression eager. “And?”

“Nada.”

His shoulders slumped. “Yeah, me, either. There has to be an answer, but I’ll be damned if I can come up with one.”

“I don’t know how Steve and Myra manage to keep the hotel afloat,” Georgie said. “With the general store I can count on the people in town to buy basic supplies. It’s not a lot of income, but it has to be better than sitting with empty hotel rooms night after night.”

“They wouldn’t make it except for the saloon, and the guys and I do our part with the poker game every night. We usually order plenty of drinks and snacks. What, with our retirement income, we’re the richest folks in town.” He glanced toward the bar again. “These cowboys showing up will give Steve a temporary boost. Sure, it’s not enough to save the day, but it keeps him solvent for a little longer.”

“You’re right, and I don’t want to bite the hand that feeds us, so to speak, but couldn’t they just stay here and drink and forget about chasing the Ghost?”

Clyde smiled at her. “I was their age once, and it doesn’t seem that long ago. I was full of piss and vinegar, just like them.”

“I’m sure you were.” Georgie wasn’t about to laugh, even though the thought of portly Clyde being a rabble-rouser was tough to imagine. His reasoned approach to life was what she cherished about him, but he was past eighty. He’d probably come to that wisdom gradually.

“Anyway, my advice is to relax and trust that the Ghost is a whole lot smarter than those young bucks, especially when they’ve spent the night sucking up beer and he’s spent the night sucking up oxygen in the wide-open spaces. His head will be much clearer than theirs come morning.”

Georgie chuckled. “You make a valid point.”

“I should hope so. I’m the mayor.” He smiled at her. “And speaking of that, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go over and welcome those cowboys to Bickford.” He pushed back his chair and stood. “We want them to know we’re glad they came for a visit.”

Instantly Georgie felt contrite. “Clyde, I have to warn you that I didn’t make them feel welcome. In fact, I probably did the exact opposite.”

“Why is that? What did you say?”

“I was somewhat forceful about my concerns for the wild horses, and when Vince insisted on his course of action I said . . .” Heat rose in her cheeks. “I said over my dead body.”

Clyde blinked, and then he began to laugh. “Georgie, I wouldn’t be your age again for anything.”

She had a feeling she’d been insulted. In this community, she was a little touchy about her relative youth. “What’s my age got to do with it?”

“You’re as passionate and determined to keep the cowboys from disturbing the Ghost as they are to have their big adventure. You each take your unshakable positions and charge forward, butting heads like mountain goats. I have a nostalgic fondness for those days but I would never want to relive them.”

Now Georgie was certain that she’d been insulted. “Are you saying I’m just like those cowboys over there?”

“In the sense that you’re as hot-blooded and ready for battle? Yes, I’m saying that. I’m glad they’re here. It’s put roses in your cheeks.”

Georgie sat in stunned silence as Clyde walked over and reintroduced himself to Vince, Mac, and Travis. She was not anything like them! Age-wise, yes, but temperament? No way. She was mature and reasonable, while they were immature and reckless.

She couldn’t begrudge the town the money the cowboys spent here this weekend, but she’d rather they hadn’t shown up at all. Yet even as she thought that, she realized it wasn’t true. She hadn’t felt this alive in months, maybe even years. If she could keep them from rounding up the stallion, then their visit would be a win for everyone.