The Real Thing Read online

  “I’m glad you came,” he said, giving me his full attention, gently wrapping his arm around my shoulders. “I was missing my cowgirl. In fact, I was thinking—”

  “Keith!” We both spun to see a young woman holding a microphone, followed by a camera man and queen Adri.

  “Hi!” Adri squealed and hugged me like we were old friends, but when she turned to do the same thing to Keith, I have to admit that my barbs went up. How ridiculous is that? I stepped out of the way, feeling immature, but instead of hugging her, my husband held his hands in the air like an outlaw.

  “Oh no, you don’t want to hug me young lady. I’m filthy.”

  She backed up, as if remembering her exquisite western clothes, and prattled on. “The news wants a few quotes from the two of us, since we’re both from the area.”

  “You’re from Castle Orchard, right?” The reporter held the microphone close to Keith’s face. He took it right out of her hands.

  “Yep. Just down the road from here.” He handed the microphone back to the young reporter who took the opportunity to ask queen Adri about her reign as Miss Pillar Bluff Frontier Days.

  She gushed and gushed. I watched, taking mental notes in case I ever had to deal with reporters myself, which I doubted would ever happen. Adri knew how to work that camera and everything she said was adorable, witty, and even smart. Keith broke out in a smile, and I wondered if he noticed how she kept laying her hand on his shoulder, patting his arm, talking about how Black Ranch had sponsored her when she was running for queen.

  We had? He’d never even mentioned Adri to me. Why wouldn’t he have told me about her? I chastised myself. What was there to tell? She was just some queen.

  Just then the camera lady held the microphone out to my face and I realized I’d missed the whole conversation and she seemed to be waiting on me to answer a question. That’s when Keith took the microphone again.

  “This here’s my bride,” he said, pulling me close to his side, resting his hand on the curve of my hip just a little bit lower than was appropriate, and I didn’t even care that he was filthy. I flashed a dazzling smile that even Adri would’ve been envious of.

  “Lucky girl!” The camera lady exclaimed.

  “That’s what everyone keeps telling me,” I said with a smile.

  Keith smiled encouragingly.

  “So, Keith,” the girl with the microphone said, “are you gonna be sore tomorrow? The announcer seemed to think so.”

  “Well now,” he said, his drawl a little stronger even than it was back on the ranch at home. “I don’t reckon I know what you’re talking about.”

  She giggled, her nerves giving her away. I felt a little bit sorry for her. Keith was a very good-looking man and standing there fresh from riding a wild horse, he commanded a presence that made you feel at awe. He might have been older than her, but he wasn’t too old to look at. Heck, he was older than me and he was my husband.

  “Well, you’re thirty-seven, Keith, not twenty-seven.” More giggles.

  “Don’t make a bit a difference,” he said. “I’ll be alright.”

  “Some folks say you’re thinking of retiring. Is that true?”

  He didn’t even glance at me. “We all have to retire some time, but don’t worry. It won’t be any time soon for me.”

  Excuse me? I didn’t say it out loud, but I just can’t express how worried that made me. Keith was young and strong, but those boys he was riding against? Some of them were eighteen, twenty-two, and so forth. An injury for them might be easier to heal from than for Keith. I wanted to give Keith an earful, but the look on his face told me tonight wouldn’t be the best time. Riding against younger men might be hard on a man’s pride. On a cowboy’s pride. I leaned closer to him, trying to look supportive.

  After the interview, Keith guzzled down a bottle of water someone handed him and shot it into the nearest trash can. Wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, he gestured toward the concessions.

  “Looks like Adri knows your homeless friend, what did you say her name is? Judy? You sure she’s homeless?”

  “Yes. Judy. And no, I’m not sure if she’s homeless, just not quite all there.” I watched with interest as Judy and Adri chatted. The gentleman in the green shirt stood patiently beside Judy, sometimes contributing to the conversation as he stood with his arm bent so that Judy could rest her hand in its crook.

  “Adri’s a nice girl,” Keith said. “She has a knack with people who aren’t quite all, well, you know what I mean. Adri likes everyone.”

  Even me.

  I searched his face to see if by chance he was attracted to Adri but his face only looked like he was stating the obvious. And of course he was.

  “She really is.” I begrudgingly meant it, too.

  “I’ve got some things to do before I can get cleaned up if you want to hang out with her for a little while.”

  I figured why not. “Plus, there’s shopping over in the tents,” I said.

  “Go gab with the girls and shop till you drop,” he said.

  “You know I will,” I said, not at all minding that he was throwing stereotypes all over the place. I did love to shop. I accepted his sweaty kiss, and the way he pulled me to him as if we were the only two in the arena made me forget my petty insecurity about Queen Adri.

  It turned out Judy wasn’t homeless after all, but she did have some kind of mental condition and lived in a special home where her green-shirted chaperone worked. I learned all of this from Adri and Jordynn, who magically appeared at my side after Keith left for the camper. The queens suggested I join them for a bite to eat over at the Old Time Village where people in old-timey clothing strolled and we could get an ice cream cone for a dollar and an entire barbecued turkey leg for five bucks. Yes, it’s true, a whole leg, as well as stunningly beautiful Native American jewelry you’d never find at Macy’s. I wouldn’t doubt if it was where Keith bought the silver bracelets for Peyton and me, although shops with similar wares could be found at any rodeo in the country. We even had some in The Southern Pair.

  “Of course,” Adri said, “I didn’t ask what she was in the home for, but whatever her condition is, it obviously makes her forget who she is.”

  “I got the feeling she still knows her way around the rodeo scene,” I said.

  Adri shook her head sadly. “Her chaperone said she used to work with horses before she got sick. I can’t imagine ever losing the ability to ride my own horses! I wish I could think of something nice to do for that poor ole cowgirl.”

  “Maybe some of the other queens could go with you for a visit,” I suggested, having no idea where this fantastic idea had come from. “You could wear your crowns. Maybe she’d get a kick out of it.”

  “I love it!” Adri exclaimed.

  “And it would give the rodeo some good press,” Jordynn added. Spoken very diplomatically.

  “You were so at ease with her, Adri.” I said. I didn’t dare admit that I never felt at ease around people like Judy.

  She shrugged. “Didn’t Keith tell you? I had an older brother who’s in heaven now, but he had some pretty difficult special needs. So, I like spending time with people like Judy. It’s a way I can honor my brother’s memory and use all this for good.” She motioned like Vanna White in her pretty green and white rodeo queen outfit and sash, complete with a white cowgirl hat that had a shiny crown pinned to it. It reminded me of my wedding-veiled hat and Peyton.

  “He didn’t mention your brother,” I said. “But I’m sure he was going to.”

  “You are brilliant,” she said. “I’m going to schedule that visit, and I wouldn’t doubt Keith would want to go, too. He loved my brother.”

  He did? Why, oh why, do cowboys keep things so close to their vests?

  Adri hugged me, and I couldn’t help but hug her back. She was a total do-gooder. So much for my opinion that rodeo queens were brainless and shallow. I begrudgingly wondered if Keith’s rodeo queen ex-wife had a better side, too. In my mind, she was a mon
ster, therefore all rodeo queens must have been cut from the same cloth, but Adri wasn’t.

  “So,” I said, when the conversation lagged. “How long have you known Keith?”

  Adri’s face lit like the sun itself and I braced myself for the announcement that they used to date.

  “I’ve known him since I was little.” she exclaimed. “He’s friends with my big brothers. He dated my big sister in high school. He’s never mentioned me?”

  “Nope,” I said, trying not to sound happy about it.

  “Hmm. We’re old family friends. Keith is even the one who introduced me to my fiancé.”

  “How well did you know Violet?” I asked.

  Adri and Jordynn exchanged glances.

  “We didn’t hang out or anything,” Adri said. “But sometimes she came to family dinners, that sort of thing.”

  “And you?” I directed the question at Jordynn.

  “Oh,” she said with a dismissive wave, “I didn’t really know her. I’m a barrel racer when I’m not doing this queen thing. Violet Black used to be a great barrel racer, too, so, of course, I looked up to her. When she left, it was a big disappointment for a lot of us younger riders.”

  “Hey, does it make you uncomfortable to talk about this?” Adri asked, looking apologetic.

  “Of course not.” I lied, wanting the information more. If I could give Peyton some kind of reason to put her dream of finding her mother to rest, maybe it would help.

  “We’re pretty far apart in age,” I said. “So, I never got to know her well when she moved into town. I was still in school.”

  “Nice,” Jordynn said. “Married an older man, did you?”

  I didn’t like the way that sounded. “Only by six years,” I said.

  “Good for you,” Jordynn said. “I want a man who’s a little bit older than me. I want a mature man who knows what he wants.”

  I smiled. “I agree. Anyway, I wasn’t close to Violet, obviously, so I don’t know exactly how it all happened, even though I’ve heard Keith’s side, and some gossip, too.”

  “Well,” Adri said, “there were rumors and stuff around the rodeo circuit when she left. But most of the rumors couldn’t have been true if she had Keith served with divorce papers.”

  I tried to imagine how Keith would’ve felt having the papers served to him, not even knowing where Violet was or why she’d left. I remembered all too well how I felt when it happened to me, but at least my ex hadn’t disappeared. He’d left me for another woman, all out in the open for everyone to see and talk about.

  “What’d people say?”

  “That she was kidnapped,” Jordynn said.

  I wasn’t shocked at this statement. I’d heard it before, but didn’t believe it for a minute, knowing that Violet’s lawyer had been given strict instructions to let Keith know she was fine, but didn’t want to be found.

  “But, of course, that was shown not to be true,” Adri said.

  “Some of the gossips say that she died,” Jordynn said. “Or that she’s living off in the Caribbean with some man.”

  “It’s so sad, especially for the kids,” Adri said. “I never got to know them, but my mom heard that Peyton has never accepted that her mom would just leave her and her little brother like that.”

  “It’s hard to accept that a mom would choose to leave you when you’re just a kid,” I said, speaking from more experience than Adri or Jordynn knew.

  “I’m so glad Keith and his kids have you,” Adri said, offering me another one of her spontaneous hugs.

  By the time I was ready to get back to Keith, I found myself liking both Queen Adri and Queen Jordynn.

  “If you girls ever need another manicure, or a memorable gift, come on back to The Southern Pair.”

  “You know we will,” Adri said. “But we’ll see you at dinner tonight.”

  I was determined to ask Keith why he hadn’t told me about his friendship with Adri before, especially the queen sponsorship, but when I stepped into the RV and found him stepping out of the shower with nothing but a towel wrapped around his slim waist, his muscles rippling up into a ‘v’—I forgot what my question was.

  “Hey, cowgirl.” He wore that half-smirk, half-smile I loved so much, and of course, the towel.

  How can a man be this good-looking and be mine?

  Out loud, I said, “You’re forgiven.”

  “For what?” He sauntered toward me, reaching me in three steps.

  “I already forget.”

  “Good,” he said, nuzzling my ear as he pulled my t-shirt out of the waist of my jeans and began loosening the fancy belt buckle I’d found among some objects in an estate sale as I was shopping for The Southern Pair. I knew someday I would need it. “Because I don’t like my wife being mad at me.”

  I liked how he said ‘wife’.

  “Hey,” I said, laughing. “I brought something to wear that I picked out specifically for an occasion just like this one. You’ll love it.” I turned toward my suitcase, but he caught my waist, pulling me backward against him. I was done for after that.

  “I’m sure it’s pretty, but, trust me, you don’t need it.” He pulled my t-shirt over my head and planted a kiss on my shoulder, sliding his hands around my waist.

  Emboldened, I slipped my fingers beneath satin straps and slid them off my shoulders. Spinning me around, he bent to place his lips on the soft skin at the tops of my breasts. I reached for him, and all the worries I’d carried with me from Castle Orchard went away with the yank of a towel.

  “You think you can kiss all my worries away just like that, cowboy?”

  “You betcha, sweetheart.” His mouth pressed gently against mine, then grew more persistent as he found the clasp of my bra. He unsnapped it with one hand and there in the safety of the RV, I forgot about everything, except our bodies entwined like newlyweds should be. I wish things could have stayed that way a lot longer, but maybe it’s like some people say. The honeymoon can’t last forever.

  Chapter Five

  Some women hate the idea of being a trophy wife on their husband’s arm while he shows her off at fancy dinners, but I say, give me my crown.

  That night, I had on the cutest western outfit in black with just enough rhinestones to light up the smiles of anyone in the room, and enough sparkles underneath to light up Keith later again that night.

  I loved being on my husband’s arm as we walked up the sidewalk toward the Morris House Bistro, a restaurant that used to be a house in the historic district close to Pillar Bluff’s downtown. I happened to know the owners, who lived most of the time in Cheyenne, Wyoming, of all places, where they had a sister restaurant that served the same menu. I’d been to both restaurants, having gone with Keith to Cheyenne Frontier Days the year before, and Morris House Bistro had become my favorite restaurant in both the North and the South.

  The bistro’s windows glowed with happiness as we walked up the sidewalk, and as soon as my boots clicked over the gleaming hardwood floors and I saw the candlelit tables in the middle of a large room that had been restored with love and attention to old but fine things, I decided that even if the party was boring, my heart for restored loveliness would at least enjoy the good vibes.

  “Amanda! Is that you?” My old friend, Dante, pulled me into a warm embrace before holding me out to study my face. “I’m so glad you made it.” He grinned broadly, his round face making me grin too.

  “I didn’t know you were in town,” I exclaimed. “How will Wyoming survive while you’re here in Tennessee?” When Trace came out of the kitchen and spotted me, he hurried across the room.

  “You’re in town, too?” I asked. “I’m so glad to see you both!”

  Trace and I went through the same routine and, after they shook hands with Keith, they ushered us toward the head table.

  “These seats are for the rodeo chairman and his wife,” Dante whispered. “And they are really excited to meet your husband.”

  “And here come the queens,” Trace whispered
conspiratorially.

  I saw numerous glances in my direction and wondered for the tenth time if any of the queens thought I was as old as rocks compared to them. I couldn’t help but wonder, as well, if any of them had set their sights on Keith before he met me, and worse, I wondered if he’d dated any of them. And just like that, there went my dignity, again. How could I not trust my wonderful husband? I watched the queens walking gracefully around the room and remembered that sometimes it wasn’t about trust. It was about simple biology. The queens were all young, but many of them not too young. Adri, after all, was old enough to get married. I texted Marta my thoughts, using the moment to check on the kids, too.

  “As if he only dated rodeo queens before you,” Marta texted.

  “He was married to one,” I texted back.

  “You are his only queen now,” she replied. “And kids are fine. Peyton has been riding Lizzie. Stevie has been helping Dad.”

  “Sounds like fun,” I texted back.

  “So is taking on all your nail appointments. When are you coming home? And where r u eating?”

  “Morris House Bistro. Trace and Dante in town.”

  “No fair! Hugs to them.”

  “Gotta go. Cowboys and queens await.”

  “Bring me one.”

  I shoved my phone into my pocket and settled in for dinner. For the next hour, I was in dining heaven. Some of the guests might have been expecting a chili supper or juicy steak since it was a rodeo event, but it was a treat having baked macaroni and cheese, fried green tomatoes from the bistro’s garden, shrimp and grits, and fried catfish with everybody’s favorite, warm bread pudding. All was going well, until Keith stiffened at my side. I turned to see him staring at his phone, reading a text.