The Swinging R Ranch: The Swinging R Ranch / Whose Line Is It Anyway?. Debbi Rawlins
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СКАЧАТЬ used to be. But she can’t recreate the past. And she certainly isn’t responsible for trying to do it.”

      The blonde suddenly called for everyone’s attention via the now working microphone, and grateful for the distraction, Max slumped back in his chair. Estelle had warned him it was complicated. She wasn’t kidding. Simply having listened, he felt as weary as if he’d just run a marathon.

      With new interest, he watched Abby smile at everyone and begin her speech. It seemed more like a pep rally, he realized as she got deeper into it, her nervousness apparently forgotten. She must have been a cheerleader in high school.

      It tired him out just watching her enthusiasm gain momentum as she talked about her vision for better classrooms, developing sports teams to occupy the youngsters and enable them to compete with neighboring schools, and eventually, the prospect of building a community college just outside of town.

      When someone asked where they were going to find the students to fill the college, Abby smiled serenely and explained how she had a plan to attract more businesses to the area.

      Max thought she’d gone off the deep end. No sane businessman would move his concern way out here no matter what the tax advantage, but no one questioned her. Instead, there was lots of head-nodding and satisfied smiles. Obviously she was well-respected and trusted. And Max got the most peculiar feeling in the pit of his stomach. A kind of strange mix of anticipation and longing and helplessness, almost like when he was a kid and he’d wanted something really badly but it was just out of his reach.

      He didn’t know what it meant to have that same peculiar feeling now. He would have blamed it on the strange-looking chicken they’d served for dinner except he’d missed that dubious pleasure.

      His gaze drew to Abby. It had something to do with her, although what, he had no idea. He couldn’t even identify with her. It was impossible for him to understand welcoming someone else’s responsibility, much less asking for it. Hell, it was sort of like begging for a migraine.

      Abby not only took responsibility in stride, she embraced it. What must she think of him?

      He felt raw suddenly, exposed. It made no sense, made him want to sink low in his chair.

      Until he thought he heard someone yell his name.

      6

      ABBY SCANNED the sea of smiling faces. The speech had gone well. She’d quickly shed most of her nervousness. And as expected, the roasted chicken from Edna’s Edibles was a hit. Everything was going fine until she thought she heard a man’s gruff voice yell out Max Bennett’s name.

      She glanced around the room again, but she didn’t see Max, nor anyone who might be calling to him. Most of the people were facing her, still chuckling over the little joke she’d made about everyone getting home before acting mayor Cleghorn had the streets rolled up. A few others were looking around, mostly just distracted, probably by the lateness of the hour. Nothing unusual.

      Great. Now her overtaxed brain was playing tricks on her. No one here even knew Max, and anyway, the people of Bingo weren’t so impolite as to holler over her speech, even if she had just wrapped things up.

      “Okay, anyone have any questions?” she asked, more as a friendly gesture than anything else. Ida Brewster and Tommy Lee Smith had already fired two at her earlier. She expected everyone wanted to go home by now.

      “Aren’t you going to answer mine?”

      At the same gruff voice Abby thought she’d heard earlier, everyone twisted in their seats to see who it was. She herself squinted, trying to see past the last grouping of tables but she still couldn’t identify the speaker. It hadn’t helped that his voice was somewhat garbled. Heaven help her, she hoped Fritz Walker hadn’t crawled into his moonshine again and wanted to pick a philosophical fight about today’s mores.

      “I’m sorry,” she said, still unsuccessfully scanning the room. “I didn’t hear the question.”

      “I wanna know about the Swinging R, what that Max Bennett plans to do with it.”

      Mention of the Swinging R started the murmuring again. Abby’s patience slipped three notches. She shaded her eyes against the lights’ glare and strained for a better look. “Fritz, is that you?”

      No one answered.

      Something was fishy. The Swinging R wasn’t an issue. She had made it a personal one, but politically, no one had questioned the existence of the brothel in her entire lifetime. Why would someone bring it up now?

      “I’d like to see whom I’m addressing before I answer the question,” she stated firmly, and the few people who hadn’t already craned their necks for a look, turned around to see who it was.

      Herb Hanson stepped out from behind a large fake ficus plant. “I guess that would be me.” He shuffled forward a couple of feet, his face redder than the bandana around his neck.

      “Why you wanna know? You finally gonna marry Mona?” someone shouted out, and everyone else laughed.

      “That ain’t none of your business,” Herb said, and headed for the far corner of the room, grumbling under his breath. Something made him stop, or someone.

      He slowly turned around and faced Abby, his reluctance as obvious as white icing on a chocolate cake. He stuck a finger in between his neck and bandana and tried to loosen it. “Well, Abigail, what’s your answer?”

      Someone clearly had put Herb up to this to rattle her, but she wasn’t giving in easily. Maybe she could even embarrass him into sitting down and keeping his mouth shut. “I’m sorry. Could you repeat the question?”

      “Oh, come on, Abigail, you heard me.”

      “With all the commotion, I forgot,” she said with a sweet smile and a small shrug.

      He just stood there for a moment, and she hoped he was reconsidering allowing himself to be a puppet for whomever was pulling the strings. Not that it was too hard to guess who that would be. Mona, probably. Except that didn’t make any sense. Why would she want to put the Swinging R in the spotlight?

      A sudden thought struck Abby. Viagra. Was Mona serious?

      “Did you say you want to reopen the Swinging R?” she asked and received exactly the reaction she wanted.

      While the audience issued a collective gasp, Herb’s cheeks colored with outrage, and he whipped off his tan Stetson and slapped the side of his leg with it. “Are you loco?”

      She raised her brows in innocence. “I’m not really sure what you’re getting at.”

      Herb glanced over his shoulder. Abby tried to see whom he was looking at but a row of silk trees in the back of the room blocked her view. When she moved her head slightly to the right, she saw him.

      Max Bennett.

      What the dickens did he have up his sleeve?

      “Tell me exactly what you want, Herb.” Her patience was gone, the sharpness in her voice vibrating into the microphone and bouncing off the walls.

      “Gosh darnit, you’re getting СКАЧАТЬ