“Ain’t nobody ever called you Tom?”
The comment hit him like a sucker punch to the gut, but years of practice at hiding pain kept his expression neutral.Only one person had ever used that name, and he wasn’t about to let anyone sully that memory.“T.R.is fine,” he said.“Are these the clothes you brought me, Curtis?”
“Yep.”Curtis held them out proudly.“Brought you my newest jeans and a shirt my brother sent me from Abilene.There’s a belt there, and the jacket ain’t got no rips or anything, either, and I washed it last week.”
“Thanks, but I can’t imagine I’ll need a jacket.”
“Oh, yes, you will,” Freddy said.“It gets chilly up in Rogue Canyon.Better take it.And Curtis, would you look in that back closet for a hat?I think one of the guests left a black one that should fit.”
Duane reappeared from the hallway.“All set in the John Wayne Room.”
Curtis returned with a black hat in one hand and glanced at Duane.“You checked real good for black widows and scorpions, didn’t ya, Duane?”
Duane looked blank.Then he grinned at Curtis.“Uh, shore I did.Shore.Only killed two, but of course, this is daytime.They come out more at night, you know.”
T.R.vowed he’d inspect the room completely before he turned in tonight.Nobody had said anything about tarantulas, but he seemed to remember they lived in Arizona, too.Funny, but bugs had never shown up on the Ponderosa.
He accepted the clothes and started toward the hall.Then he turned.“Did John Wayne really sleep there, or is the name just something to impress the tourists?”
“He really slept there,” Freddy said.“He made several movies out at Old Tucson.This was one of his favorite places to stay, and that was his special room.”
At last, a piece of good news, T.R.thought as he carried his clothes down the hall.That settled it.The developers should definitely leave the ranch house standing and make use of the John Wayne Room somehow.There also had to be a way to get rid of the damned bugs.
Curtis turned to Freddy after T.R.had left the room.“You know, I’m almost beginning to feel sorry for that tenderfoot.The John Wayne stuff is the only true thing he’s heard since he got here.”
“That’s not so, Curtis,” Freddy countered.“Everything we’ve said is true.The ranch is best seen from the back of a horse.We do sometimes have scorpions or black widows around, although the spraying service works pretty well.And you’re one to talk about taking pity on him.You gave him new jeans for the trail ride.”
Curtis grinned.“I saw right away what you’re tryin’ to do.Pretty smart.So if he has a bad time out on the trail, he’ll go home, right?And then Mr.Whitlock can buy the ranch.”
“That’s the idea.”
Duane adjusted his hat and chuckled.“You shoulda seen his face when you cut Red Devil.But I have to hand it to him, he stuck it out and didn’t faint or nothin’.”
“He’s not a bad guy,” Freddy said.“But he’s an Easterner, and I can tell he’s used to running things and wouldn’t leave us alone like Westridge has done.He asked me right away why we didn’t cut down the mesquite bosques and sell the wood to fancy restaurants back East.If he buys the ranch, he’ll have the power to do just that.”
Duane’s jaw tightened.“Then you’d better take him on a nice long ride, boss.I may cuss those trees when we have to go in there after our critters, but I wouldn’t want that wood to be flavoring somebody’s beefsteak in New York City.”
“Exactly.”
“And I can’t picture riding for a boss who calls himself T.R.”
“It is stuffy.”Freddy had noticed that T.R.’s expression had closed down when Curtis had suggested calling him Tom.She wondered if she’d ever learn what caused the sudden reaction.Probably not.By tomorrow, T.R.McGuinnes would be heaving his saddle-sore body back onto a plane bound for New York, and Eb Whitlock would have a clear shot at the True Love.
“Lemonade,” chirped Belinda, sweeping in from the other direction carrying a frosty pitcher and glasses.“I heard you boys out here and went back for more glasses.”
“Thanks, Belinda,” Freddy said.“You didn’t have to serve us yourself.”
“Nonsense.Feels good once in a while.”She held the tray of drinks toward Freddy.“Besides, I wanted to thank you for trying to keep that Easterner from buying the place.I think you’ve hit on a wonderful idea.”
Freddy took a glass from the tray.“I hope so.”
“You know,” Belinda said, “I could probably adjust, but really if Dexter and I had to leave...”
“I’d do just about anything to keep that from happening, Belinda,” Freddy told her.
“I know.”Belinda’s usually kind expression became flinty.“So would I.”She looked over Freddy’s shoulder.“And here comes our pigeon now.”
Belinda’s description made Freddy smile.But when she turned toward the hall, her smile faded.A New York businessman had left the room.Someone with an entirely different aura had returned.
