The Heart Won't Lie. Vicki Lewis Thompson

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СКАЧАТЬ to his right as he topped the stairs. “It’ll be a lot more peaceful up here now that they’re gone.”

      “Will you miss them?”

      Jack glanced at him. “Interesting that you should ask. I will miss those varmints. When they’re here, I’m ready to tear my hair out, but when they leave, the place seems too quiet.”

      “I can imagine. All that energy must grow on you.” Michael was impressed by what he’d heard of the program, which Jack had casually described during the ride from the airport.

      Judging from the offhand way Jack had talked about it, he’d only intended to give Michael some background in case the subject came up while he was at the ranch. But Michael had made a mental note to donate to the cause. Jack had refused to charge anything for this week because he claimed it was an honor to tutor his favorite living author. So Michael would reimburse Jack in a different way, one the cowboy couldn’t refuse.

      “We had to shovel them out of here, though,” Jack said, “to make room for wedding guests arriving at the end of the week.”

      “Right. The wedding.” Bethany had told Michael that Sarah, the ranch’s matriarch, was marrying Peter Beckett. Sarah had been widowed several years ago, and everyone seemed thrilled that she’d fallen in love again. “I’m still worried that I’m here at a bad time.”

      “No, you’re here at a good time.” Jack grinned as they headed down the hall. “Much as I love my mother and respect Pete, I hate all the fuss and bother that goes into the planning stages of a wedding. You’re the perfect excuse to get me out of that. Come Saturday I’ll dress up and play my role, but until then I’m busy with an important pupil.”

      Michael had an uneasy moment. “Why am I so important? I thought nobody knows who I am.”

      “Don’t worry. They don’t. But you’re Bethany’s friend. Nash is like family, and Bethany married Nash, so now Bethany’s like family, too. So any friend of Bethany’s is a friend of ours.”

      “I see.” Apparently the right connections mattered in the West just as they mattered back east.

      “Here’s your room. Used to be mine before I got married, but the furniture’s all different.” Jack walked through a door on the left side of the hallway.

      Michael followed him into a large room decorated in shades of green. He noticed a king-size bed and a spectacular view of the Grand Tetons. The jagged peaks still had a smattering of snow, even in August. “Very nice.”

      “I like it. Looks like Keri picked you some wildflowers.”

      Michael had been captured by the view of the mountains, but now he noticed that a bouquet of Indian paintbrush and purple lupine sat on the dresser. “That was thoughtful.” Research for his books had taught him what they were, because he wouldn’t have had a clue otherwise.

      “Yeah, Keri’s a gem. She thinks of those things. Don’t look for an attached bath, though. The bathroom’s right next door, but connecting it would be tricky. The bathtub would get in the way of cutting a door between the rooms. I doubt you’re used to walking out into the hall, but it can’t be helped.”

      “Jack, the view from the window is spectacular. I couldn’t care less about an attached bath.”

      “Good.” Jack seemed pleased by that. “I’ll leave you to unpack, then. Dinner’s at six, but you can explore the place before then if you want. I have some issues to handle, but Keri should be back from the mouse funeral soon. If you need a guide, I’m sure she’d be glad to show you around.”

      “Great.” Michael was careful not to sound too eager about having Keri do him that favor. “And thanks, Jack.”

      “Don’t thank me yet. Tomorrow, when your butt’s sore from spending hours on a horse and you ache all over, you may not be so thankful.”

      “I thought you said it wouldn’t be too bad?”

      Jack smiled. “I didn’t want you to panic.” Then he turned on his booted heel and left the room.

      Some exit line. And thanks to that line, anxiety had him firmly in its grip. What the hell did he think he was doing? Nobody could learn to be a cowboy in a week.

      Despite the help from Jack, he could end up falling off his horse during the shooting of the video. That would be embarrassing as hell, both to him and to the publicist. He should have confessed his shortcomings to the gung-ho woman who’d called him with feverish excitement to propose the video they would shoot in three weeks.

      Michael could have told her the truth and suggested they drop the idea. Some still shots might work if they found a docile horse for him. But no, he hadn’t said those things because he’d wanted to preserve the mystique. Ego, pure and simple.

      With a sigh, he walked over to the window and looked out at the majestic Tetons. He should have come to this part of the country years ago. A summer on a dude ranch would have given him what he needed and he wouldn’t be in this fix now.

      But he hadn’t admitted all his fears to Jack. He was deathly afraid that he wouldn’t have any talent for being a cowboy, no matter how long he worked at it. By cramming his lessons into a week, he could excuse himself if he failed. If he’d taken an entire summer and failed, he’d have been forced to conclude that he wasn’t cut out for the life he wrote about so convincingly.

      That would be a tough pill to swallow. He wasn’t sure how that would affect his writing, but he had a hunch it would make a dramatic difference. If he’d never tried to be a real cowboy, then he could hang on to the illusion that such a thing might be possible.

      “Mr. Hartford?”

      He turned from the window and discovered Keri standing in the doorway. “Call me Michael, okay?”

      “All right, if that’s what you’d prefer. Is there anything you need? I ducked out on my job, but I’m available now.”

      “Has the mouse received a decent burial?”

      “It was quick, but I think the boys would have been satisfied.” She studied him. “It’s the strangest thing, but I feel as if I know you from somewhere. I don’t, do I?”

      He didn’t dare ask if she read Westerns, but this was the very thing he’d worried about. “I doubt it. I have one of those faces. People often think they know me.”

      “Maybe, but I’ve seen you somewhere. I’ll figure it out.”

      That settled one thing for sure. He wouldn’t start growing his mustache while he was here.

      “So, is everything to your liking? Have you checked out the towel supply in the bathroom?”

      “I’m sure it’s fine.” He still couldn’t quite place her accent.

      “What’s your pillow preference? You currently have down, but I can substitute polyester fill if you’re allergic.”

      “Not allergic. I’m pretty low maintenance.” He had a feeling she was, too. She’d hurried right back without stopping to primp.

      “Then I’ll quit pestering СКАЧАТЬ