It Takes a Cowboy

Since Blair had last seen him filthy and bedraggled, he’d taken pains with his appearance this evening, choosing a gray, tweedy sport coat and navy slacks with an open-necked pale blue shirt. He’d debated for a time about whether he should add a tie—after all, it had been a tie that had prompted Blair to bid on him at the auction—but he’d decided to skip it. He’d been making an effort to introduce Blair to the real Scott McKay, rather than the illusion she’d purchased, and a tie wasn’t a typical part of the picture.

He pushed her doorbell and donned his most charming smile.

The smile became genuine when Jeffrey opened the door, holding his cat in his arms. “Well, hi, partner. How’s it going? I thought you’d be at your great-aunt’s house.”

“She’s staying with me here. You were so cool at the rodeo today, Scott.”

He smiled wryly. “I lost, Jeff.”

“Yeah, but you should have won,” the boy insisted loyally. “Those other guys got easier bulls than you for the second ride.”

It wasn’t entirely accurate, but Scott appreciated the support. “Well, that’s the game. Sometimes you win the buckle, other times you’re face down in dung.”

“Eeww, gross,” Jeffrey said with relish. “Are you okay, Scott? You sure fell hard.”

“Yeah, just a few bruises. Guess you know how that feels, hmm?” he added, gently touching the bruise on Jeffrey’s face.

Jeffrey wrinkled his nose, looking a lot like his aunt at that moment. “Yeah, it’s kinda sore.”

“Uh-huh. Me, too.”

“Invite the gentleman in, Jeffrey. Don’t just leave him standing on the doorstep.”

In response to the woman’s voice from behind him, Jeffrey flushed and moved quickly aside. “Sorry. Come in, Scott.”

“Thank you.” He crossed the threshold and glanced toward the broad-hipped, gray-haired, pleasant-faced woman in the living room doorway. “Will you introduce us, Jeff?”

Looking quite important, Jeffrey squared his shoulders. “Aunt Wanda, this is my friend, Scott McKay. Scott, this is my great-aunt Wanda. Er, Mrs. Townsend,” he added quickly.

Wanda nodded approvin

gly to the boy before extending her right hand to Scott. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. McKay. I’ve heard a great deal about you.”

“The pleasure is mine, Mrs. Townsend.”

“Jeffrey told me he saw you ride in a rodeo this morning.”

“A charity event,” he explained. “The coordinator is an old acquaintance who talked me into participating.”

“That was very generous of you. You’ve donated a great deal of your time to charity lately.”

Scott shrugged. “It was just a coincidence that two charity functions fell almost back-to-back.”

“Please, won’t you have a seat?” She motioned toward the sofa. “I’m afraid Blair’s tied up with a telephone call from one of her clients. I’m sure she’ll try to hurry. In the meantime, can I get you something to drink?”

“No, thank you.” He waited until she was seated, then took a place on the couch. Jeffrey immediately sat beside him, just a bit closer than absolutely necessary.

“When did you learn to ride, Scott?” the boy demanded eagerly. “Was it scary the first time? Have you ever been stepped on?”

“I was a teenager, and yes, it was pretty scary. And no, I haven’t been stepped on—at least, not full weight. I’ve been kicked by a hoof or two, and grazed by a couple of horns, but on the whole I’ve been pretty lucky. But then, I’ve never pursued rodeo full time—not like Shane Daniels or the other rodeo stars. For me, it’s always been just a hobby.”

“An insane hobby.” Blair entered the room with that dry comment, looking fresh and pretty in a purple pantsuit in some soft, silky fabric that made his palms itch to feel it.

He rose to his feet, hiding the dull protests from his assorted bruises. “You look great,” he greeted her. “All finished with business for the evening?”

“Yes. At least, I hope so,” she added, crossing her fingers. “I have a slightly hysterical client who thinks I should be on call twenty-four hours a day.”

Wanda smiled faintly. “Your uncle had a few of those—probably the same ones you’re dealing with. I can’t tell you how many dinners and movies were interrupted by calls for him.”