“I want you to ride over and tell them that Brian Hastings has a big surprise planned, and everyone has to remain in their seats, or it will be ruined.”
Benny frowned.“Okay.But the flag’s on the ground.”
Jo snatched it up, shook it off and handed it to him.Benny had always longed to carry that flag.“You take it back, Benny.You’re the flag bearer and the messenger, okay?I’m counting on you.”
Benny grinned.“You bet.”He kicked his horse into a fast trot to make the flag ripple as he rode toward the approaching crowd, and Hyper followed docilely behind.
Jo heaved a sigh and turned to Quinn and Hastings.“Now, where were we?”
Hastings gazed at her.“I was about to ask if you want to negotiate the terms for my use of your ranch, or are you going to be smart and turn it over to Mr.Investment Banker, here?”
Jo’s heartbeat quickened.“You really want the ranch?”
“Yep.I drove out there just now, and it’s perfect.But nobody was home, so I came into town, saw all the commotion and decided to investigate.”
Jo glanced from Hastings to Quinn.“That’s great.Really great.But we have this tiny problem.”She looked at Hastings.“People around here think Brian Hastings has already arrived.”
Hastings stroked his jaw and looked at Quinn.“Think we could make the switch?”
“Maybe,” Quinn said.
Jo shook her head.“No way.”
“Why not?”both men said at once.
“Because you really don’t look anything alike,” Jo said.“Quinn’s eyes are much bluer, and he’s taller, and his shoulders are broader.His hair’s thicker, and he’s got that cute little freckle on his cheekbone, and everyone may not notice, but when he smiles, one of his eyeteeth is slightly crooked, which gives him a rakish air you can’t get with caps.”
“I don’t have caps,” Hastings said stiffly.He glanced at Quinn.“But maybe I need the name of your stylist.To be honest, I haven’t been all that happy with Antoine recently.”
“My barber’s in New York.”
“No problem.Maybe he’d like to relocate.”
Quinn’s expression turned belligerent.“If you’re going to steal the first decent barber I’ve found in six years, I’m not telling you his name.”
“Guys.Could we get back on track?I don’t think it will work to switch one of you for the other, so what else have we got?”
“We could say it was all a joke,” Quinn said.
Jo looked doubtful.“But you promised people parts in the movie.”
Hastings groaned.“Oh, boy.Here we go.Not speaking parts, I hope?”
“No,” Quinn said.“I wasn’t specific, except I told this one guy, Jo’s banker, that he’d be perfect for this French character.”
Hastings shook his head.“I’ll get with the scriptwriters.The last thing I want is bad publicity because some local guy thought he’d be in the movie and he’s not.”He hesitated, as if afraid to ask the next question.“Did you...tell them what it was about?”
“No,” Jo said.
“That’s a relief.”
“I only gave them the title,” Quinn said.
“The title?”
“Yeah.The Brunette Wore Spurs.”
“Ye gods and little fishes.That’sawful.”
