Saddle Up. Mary Baxter Lynn

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       Two

      Bridget had to admit this part of the country was beautiful. She lifted her head, her gaze tracking the tall pecans and cottonwood trees as they ballooned upward. Around her were mountains the color of red bricks, flanked by fertile valleys covered with buffalo grass.

      Still, Bridget couldn’t believe she was here at the auction in the backwater town of Pennington, Utah. Worse, she was parked in the front row of the Pennington Civic Pavilion, gawking like the other women packed onto the plastic folding chairs. At least, Bridget told herself, she wasn’t gawking for the same reason. For one thing, the auction hadn’t begun yet, though offstage the men she guessed were participants stood laughing and talking. The other women, including Tiffany, were watching them with blatant curiosity.

      Bridget refused to lower herself to do more than glance in their direction, mortified that somehow Tiffany had managed to get her way after all.

      “Well?”

      Tiffany’s whisper jolted Bridget to the moment at hand. “Well, what?” she asked in a vexed tone.

      Tiffany laughed. “You know what.”

      “You want your money.”

      Tiffany rubbed two fingers together, her grin widening. “I’ll take it any time you’re ready to give it to me.

      “I’m surprised you’re just now asking.” Bridget’s tone was churlish at best.

      Tiffany’s laughter deepened. “Hell, I wasn’t sure you’d actually go through with it.”

      “What did you think I was going to do? Jump out of that damn puddle jumper they call a plane?”

      “No, but once we got here, you could’ve refused to go any farther.”

      “If I had half a brain, I would’ve turned around and taken the next Spirit of St. Louis back to Texas.”

      “Aw, and miss out on all this fun? Come on, pay up, then let your hair down, for heaven’s sake. We’ll enjoy the auction, get a load of eye candy—” Tiffany nudged Bridget’s shoulder “—eat some barbecue, then head to the motel.”

      “And then go home, right?”

      “Only after we see a little of the country,” Tiffany said. “I’ve never been this far west, and I aim to take advantage of it. Besides, once the auction’s over, you should be able to get that pained expression off your face and have a good time. You look like you just saw Wainwright again!”

      Bridget threw up her hands, but she couldn’t stop the smile that spread across her face. “You’re impossible.”

      “That’s why you love me so much. Now, about that fifty bucks…”

      “Damn you, Tiff!”

      Tiffany merely laughed as Bridget slapped bills into her friend’s outstretched hand. She watched as Tiffany made a kissing sound before stuffing the money into her purse.

      “Go to hell,” Bridget whispered.

      “Thanks, I will, with a new purse hanging on my shoulder. This fifty smackers will help pay for it.” She paused. “It’s going to be all right, I promise. You’ll have a good time.”

      “Sure I will, Tiff. I’ll probably cherish this moment forever…like I would having all my teeth pulled,” Bridget mumbled under her breath, turning away from Tiffany’s mischievous eyes.

      Tiffany nudged her again, harder. “Hey, take a gander at that fellow with the black hair and mustache. He could do anything he wanted in my bed.”

      “Behave yourself! You act like you haven’t had any in a long time.”

      “If you’re referring to nooky,” Tiffany whispered, “I haven’t. Remember, you’re the one with the man.”

      Only she hadn’t had any from him in a long time, Bridget thought, her mind turning to Hamilton and the hissy fit he’d thrown when she told him that Tiffany was trying to talk her into going away with her for a few days. Even now, she could see Hamilton in her mind’s eye. Tall and always impeccably dressed, which only heightened his gym-toned body to perfection, he was handsome in a stodgy sort of way. A successful stockbroker, his best asset was perfect white teeth, which he used to charm his clients. But on that particular day, the smile had turned into a grim frown.

      “Why would you do a thing like that?” he’d asked with unusual bluntness. “You know how I feel about her.”

      Bridget saw red, as she did so often of late when she was in his company. “You don’t have to like her. She’s my friend.”

      “I still think you could do better. After all—”

      “Save it, Hamilton. I don’t care what you СКАЧАТЬ