Cowboy All Night. Vicki Thompson Lewis

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      “A Battle of the Sacred Flame.” Lexi grinned. “I haven’t heard those fateful words in years. Takes me back.”

      “Doesn’t it, though?” Rosie shook her head. “Ah, for the good old days filled with testosterone and the smell of sulfur. I’d love to know what bonehead started this activity but nobody will say.”

      As Brant sat at the table and reached for the champagne bottle, he avoided looking at Herb. Rumor had it that Herb had taught Cade how to light a match this way. Then Cade had taught Damon Harrison, the second boy to arrive, and so on. The trick had spread like...well, wildfire. “What’s on the line?”

      “I would say your reputation.” Cade folded his arms and smiled. “But you obviously don’t give a damn about that if you’d surrender to a butane lighter, so let’s make it interesting. First guy who fails to light a match will wash the other guy’s truck in the morning.”

      Brant thought of his mud-spattered vehicle. Old Bessie hadn’t been near a hose and a bucket for at least a month. “Have you seen my truck?”

      “Not up close, but it doesn’t matter. Judging from your recent performance, you’ll be washing my truck.”

      “And if it’s a tie,” Lexi said, “you can both wash my truck.”

      “My van could use a wash,” Aria said as she stirred the mushrooms. “I planned on driving out here in the morning, anyway, so I can see Linus.”

      Brant perked up at that announcement. Logically she should have tomorrow morning free and he’d planned to ask her if she’d come to the ranch. Instead she’d volunteered to come back, so she was making the foal a priority. Good news for Linus.

      “That works,” Lexi said. “I’ll share.”

      “I like this bet now.” Rosie sipped her champagne. “Puts a different spin on things. Too bad Herb just washed our truck or I’d get in on it.”

      Herb leaned forward. “I won’t tell you not to have this contest, but that’s a full box. I’d advise you to set a limit on the number of matches per contestant. You can’t be lighting matches while we eat.”

      “Might be sort of festive,” Brant said. “Take a bite, light a match. Take a bite, light a match.”

      “Might be sort of stupid.” Cade gazed across the table at him. “What do you think? Thirty?”

      “Thirty it is.” Brant dug a quarter out of his jeans pocket and flipped it in the air. “Call it.”

      “Heads.”

      “And it’s tails, my friend. Which is a sign that my luck has turned.” Brant counted out thirty matches and leaned back in his chair. “Light ’er up, loser.”

      “Wait.” Aria hurried over to the table. “I want to see this Battle of the Sacred Flame.”

      “Then allow me to be your champion.” Brant stood and pulled out her chair.

      “Hang on.” Cade paused, a match in his hand. “She only said she wanted to watch. She didn’t say anything about making you her champion.”

      Brant shrugged. “Seems only right. You have a fair maiden rooting for you, so I should be able to—”

      “I’m actually rooting for a tie,” Lexi said. “I want my truck washed.”

      “That’s my stake in this, too.” Aria took her seat.

      Oh, really? Brant reevaluated the situation. A woman who didn’t want to have anything to do with a man wouldn’t jump into a contest that might cause that man to wash her vehicle. Would she?

      “Right on, girlfriend.” Lexi exchanged a high-five with her.

      Brant decided to go with it. “Looks like we’re on our own, bro. No fair maidens cheering us on like in the good old days.”

      “Just as well. This won’t take long.” Cade leaned forward and locked his gaze with Brant’s as he flicked the match with this thumbnail. It ignited. “And that’s how it’s done.” He blew it out and tossed it on the plate he’d been using for cheese. “You’re up.”

      Brant didn’t care if he won or not. He never had cared. But early on he’d figured out that winning mattered to most guys, especially when it came to things like championship basketball games. So he’d pretended to be competitive as hell. Besides, Aria was sitting at the table, and while he didn’t personally mind if he lost, winning might be better with her watching.

      So he concentrated more than he would have normally and lit match after match. Cade kept pace with him and eventually they each had only one left. Brant held his up. “Let’s go for the big finish. On the count of three, we’ll both light our match...or not.”

      “Just so you both end up with the same result,” Lexi said.

      “My thoughts exactly.” Aria finished off her champagne. “Matilda is filthy.”

      Brant glanced away from the match in his hand. “You named your van?”

      “Yep. I always name my ride.”

      “Me, too.” He liked knowing they had that in common. Somehow there had been a subtle shift and Aria was no longer quite so resistant to...what? He wasn’t sure, but the situation was more promising than it had been.

      “Are you counting or conversing?” Cade waved his match in the air.

      “Counting.” Brant dragged out the process because at this stage of the game dignity was gone, anyway. On three he scratched the head of the match with his thumbnail. Nothing. He looked over at Cade.

      His brother held an unlit match and had a goofy smile on his face. He tossed his match on the table. “Looks as if we’ll be washing vehicles for the ladies.” He didn’t seem particularly upset about it, either. Brant had the distinct impression Cade hadn’t tried to light his match.

      “Excellent!” Aria clapped her hands together. “How early do you want me here?”

      “Early.” He couldn’t remember when he’d anticipated anything more. Between washing Aria’s van and working with her foal, he’d spend the bulk of his morning with her. He wondered if Cade had figured that out and had decided to play Cupid.

      “Everybody be sure to forward your pictures to my phone,” Aria said. “I’m going to show them to Josh so I can convince him to come with me.”

      “Yeah, I hope he does,” Brant said immediately. He’d forgotten about her brother, and he couldn’t let himself do that.

      Linus was supposed to be Josh’s colt and if a wheelchair would be part of the mix, that should be introduced early. Yeah, the prospect of seeing her tomorrow had lost a little of its shine because Josh might be there. So what? He’d comfort himself by picturing how happy she’d be if Josh fell in love with the foal the way she had.

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