Maverick (Star Valley Book 3) (4 page)

“There’s
two
,” he told Walker. “I got dibs on the blonde, though.”

Walker said nothing, just kept pushing him toward the banquet hall. “Keep moving,” he growled.

“The night is young.”

“So are they,” Walker countered.

Austin wrinkled his nose as he watched the women heading to the front doors of the lobby. “Not that young,” he said…he
hoped
.

“Better check her ID.”

“I’ll frisk her,” Austin replied with a grin.

Walker put his hand on the large brass handle of the banquet hall door and started to open it. “Go on. Get your award. Take your place among the greats.”

“You’re making fun of me.” Austin expected that to be the end of the conversation, a typical one for brothers—twins—who’d been ribbing each other since they shared a womb and then a room. But Walker actually stopped, hand on the knob of the heavy door.

“No, Austin. I’m not.”

Austin turned to look at him, suddenly surprised.

“You’ve worked your ass off, Austin, harder than any of us. What you’ve accomplished…we might not
be
here without you. We might not have Snake River.”

“You took the chance on me,” Austin reminded him.

“But you
saw
the chance and I didn’t. So go get your award, find your blonde, or one just like her, and enjoy your night. You deserve it.”

“Aw shucks.”

“Shut up.”

Neither one of them were much for sentimentality.

Walker held the door and Austin stepped inside. It was as he expected, ranchers and their wives and a peppering of men in suits. The Wingtipped Weenie was seated in the corner and tugged at his tie when he caught sight of Austin. Austin nodded to him, by way of apology.

Dinner didn’t go nearly fast enough and there were a handful of presenters and speakers before Austin got his turn. As he heard his name announced, he took the stage and, not being one for speeches, he decided to skip boring the crowd with his philosophies on sustainable ranching and the techniques he’d tried and sometimes failed at using.

Instead, he kept it short. “My family crossed the border more than one hundred years ago,” he said, running a finger along the smooth glass of the trophy, “and we never looked back. We made this land our own and worked it every day of our lives, generation after generation. Some things have changed, the market, our strategies, our tools, and our tactics, because that’s what we do, here in Wyoming. We adapt. We change.
We survive
.”

He could see heads nodding in the crowd as he spoke. They knew his struggles, just as he knew theirs. They all had a shared history, similar circumstances, a common goal. “But one thing has never changed,” he told them. “Our commitment to the land, to leave it better than we found it. We may change, but we won’t falter. We all want the same thing: A piece of Wyoming to leave to our children.”

Amid the applause, someone snapped a photo and the flash had him seeing stars for a moment. It was all pretty crazy. He’d only ever intended to save his family’s ranch. He never expected anyone else to care. He held up the smooth, glass award for another photo and then stepped off the stage, clutching it tightly. He cared less about all the hoopla than what it actually meant: That Snake River was going to survive.

He left the podium and made his way back to the table where Walker sat, actually smiling at him. The truth was, they both needed a break from the ranch and Austin was glad to see his twin
almost
enjoying himself. Austin set the polished glass trophy down on the table cloth next to his brother and grinned.

Walker snorted. “Are you going to carry that thing around with you now, where ever you go?”

“I might.”

“I’ll get you a holster for it. Seems safer than that pistol.”

Austin’s grin slipped a little as he was reminded of the troubles at home. Here, with all these people talking about him, it was easy to get caught up in all the things going
right
at Snake River. As he took one final look around the room, he realized he was here now, and he might as well have a good time. Opportunities like this didn’t come around that often and Austin intended to make the most of it.

He pushed back his chair, picked up his prize, and gave Walker a nod.

“Where are you going?” Walker asked as Austin was turning away.

“To find me a drink and a woman. What are you going to do?”

“Go upstairs and go to sleep.”

Austin shook his head. “There
are
women here. In case you failed to notice.”

“I noticed.”

“And?” asked Austin with raised eyebrows.

“Mind your own business.”

Austin shrugged. “Suit yourself. You know you could—oh, hey look. It’s Dakota!”

Walker spun so fast in his chair that it nearly tipped over. The whole table rattled as his knees crashed into it. The beast of a man scanned the crowd like a predator, large hand grasping the back of the chair, gripping it so hard his knuckles turned white. “
Where
?” he growled when he couldn’t find her. Finally he gave up and glanced back at Austin.

Austin rolled his eyes at him.

“God damn it,” the eldest Barlow snarled.

“You’d better work on getting your priorities in order,” Austin warned his brother.

“She
is
my priority,” Walker muttered.

“Doesn’t look like it from here.”

“I’m not interested in what it looks like from your side,” Walker grunted. “Go on. Find your own damn woman. And we’re pulling out of here early in the morning. So get a move on. You’re wasting time.”

Austin could have stayed there all night and argued with his twin about who was wasting time, but he knew it wouldn’t matter, not with his stubborn jackass of a brother. He turned and left for greener pastures.

‡

L
eah splurged on
dinner, because as Candace had put it, how many times did they ever go to Jackson Hole? She’d be paying off her credit card for at least a year probably after this trip, but it seemed worth it to have a mini-vacation.

Becca looked great as the bride-to-be. It was hard to believe someone their age was getting married. Leah had missed quite a bit of high school and didn’t know the other girls as well as Candace, but she was glad to be included in the celebration. Kyle, Becca’s fiancé, was as good looking as they came, except for the cowboy in the elevator earlier. Leah wouldn’t say she was jealous, but there was a pang in her chest just the same when she looked at Becca’s ring and the smile on her face.

Candace made a show of looking around the restaurant, reminding Leah of her promise to find a cowboy with a nice pair of boots. Leah was relieved when no one caught her friend’s eye. Too much excitement was probably not a good thing. A nice meal, a wedding, and a pleasant drive home were all she needed really. A cowboy, boots or no, was a ride she couldn’t handle.

The dinner was nice and the two families looked as though they’d mesh quite well. Cody wasn’t a moneyed town like Jackson Hole, but Becca’s family had been fairly well off, Leah remembered, at least compared to her own. Kyle’s family didn’t seem to hold it against them at all. Leah had seen enough people act awkward and uncomfortable around
her
that she could recognize it in others. Either Kyle’s parents were the World’s Greatest Actors, or they really didn’t mind the difference in incomes.

The taxi back to the hotel took little time. Leah was ready to hit the sheets and wake up early for the ceremony, but Becca, Candace, and the other girls seemed undaunted by the ticking clock.

Or maybe they were racing it.

“Drinks are on me!” Becca shouted and tottered off to the hotel’s bar in her impossibly high heels.

“Oh,” said Leah, glancing at Candace and taking a step back. “I’m kind of tired and—”

“Bullshit,” said Candace, clamping a hand down on her arm. “Let’s go find your cowboy!”

Leah allowed herself to be dragged into the dimly lit space, which boasted a gleaming dark wood bar to the right and leather cushioned banquettes to the left. She also allowed herself no hint of either relief or disappointment when the guy from the elevator was nowhere to be found.

Candace was undaunted. “We’ll find another one,” she declared, always and forever able to read Leah’s thoughts.

At one of the large banquettes, Leah ordered a daiquiri, which seemed safe enough, and the waitress returned with their drinks a few minutes later.

“Round Robin!” Becca cried suddenly before Leah even took the first sip.

Before Leah could react, Candace snatched her daiquiri with her left hand while passing her own to the right. Anna, to Leah’s left, set her barely-sipped Jack and Coke down in front of Leah with a flourish. Everyone at the table picked up their neighbor’s drinks and lifted them high. Not to be left out, Leah picked up the swirling amber liquid and peered at it cautiously as Becca said a few words of thanks for all her girls coming to help her celebrate.

When it was time to drink, Leah let a slug of the whiskey trickle down her throat. It burned and she tried not to cough or spit it out.

“Whoo!” shouted Carly. “Drink it down then pass it around!”

All the drinks shifted again and Leah found herself now in possession of a vodka and cranberry. This one went down just a bit easier but two passes later she found herself staring at more whiskey. At this point, though, the burn was barely noticeable and the pleasant warmth in her belly more than made up for it.

“Yikes!” breathed Anna, looking over Leah’s shoulder.

Everyone turned to see a muscled, broad shouldered man in a crisp, white button down shirt and blue jeans striding into the hotel’s bar. His wavy brown hair fell just above his eyes and he wore a smile as wide as any valley Candace and Leah had driven through to get here.

“Oh, my God!” Candace whispered. “That’s the cowboy from the elevator!”

Leah didn’t need to be reminded. Immediately she recalled the smell of leather and aftershave and the heat of his body as he’d leaned in next to her just hours before.

“You know that guy?” Becca practically shrieked.

Anna shot her a look. “Girl, you’re getting married tomorrow. It’s too late to trade up.”

“I don’t know him,” Leah muttered. “I just saw him in the elevator.”

“He practically dragged her back to his room,” Candace said proudly.

“He did not!” Leah hissed, but that look in his eyes
had
been intense. If he had dragged her to his room, she might have forgotten to fight him.

“Go talk to him,” said Candace.

“Oh, I don’t know.” Leah gazed at him from across the room. Maybe he looked even better than she remembered.

“Well,
I
know. Go on,” Candace insisted. “He’s not with anyone.”

It was true. By some miracle he was sitting alone, but he wouldn’t be for long. It seemed he’d captured the attention of most of the female population in the room. Leah felt completely out of her league.

As though Candace could read the expression on her face (and why not? They’d been friends their whole lives) she said, “
He’s into you.
”

Also true. Though Lord knew why. She glanced down at her chest and grimaced. She could think of at least two reasons.

“He’ll remember you, trust me. Just…just…”

“Tell him a joke!” Anna suggested.

“Yes,” said Candace. “Say something funny.
But sexy.
Like you want to save a horse and ride a cowboy tonight.”

Leah took one final drink and stood up on shaky heels. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” she murmured.

“Go!” Candace pushed Leah, lightly, but it was enough to nearly knock her off her heels. She grabbed the back of her chair to steady herself. Then she continued, slowly, one foot in front of the other and had the strange feeling that she was either marching to her death or a new lease on life.

It could’ve been the whiskey.

Save a horse, ride a cowboy,
Leah thought to herself as she carefully measured her steps across the room.
Save a horse, ride a cowboy.
She skirted a table, had to slow to keep herself from tripping, and put one hand on the bar as she closed in on the man with the shiny, black boots and the devilish grin. When she finally got near him, he turned and flashed her a surprised smile that nearly made her drop to her knees.

“I’m thinking about saving a cowboy,” she blurted out before he could speak.

He continued to smile at her. “Oh, yeah? From what?”

Oh, shit.

Leah’s mouth dropped open and she felt like a goldfish. “From…” She looked around wildly and finally settled on the crystal glass of amber liquid sitting in front of him. “From alcohol poisoning,” she chirped and reached forward. She ignored the fact that if she had one more drink, she’d be close to passing out herself. She swiped it off the bar, brought it to her lips, and drank it down.

The liquor burned her throat and for one panicked moment she thought it might come back up. She forced it down and set the glass down on the bar. He lifted his hand, and signaled to the bartender who refilled it. “What’s your name?” he asked before upending it.