From the Boots Up (5 page)

“Thanks so much,” said one of the men. “Can we still
get some dinner?”

“You’ve got another hour. Head on over. And the
bonfire starts about eight.”

The Forster Party decided to go to dinner before they
unloaded their luggage, and they walked toward the lodge, leaving Meg with
Gina.

“Okay,” Meg said. “Lucky number five. You’re
upstairs. Which is my preference, actually, because you get some great views.”
She was talking too fast. Calm down, she admonished herself.

“Excellent. Let’s go.” She waited for Meg to precede
her up the stairs at the end of the building and Meg led her to a room that was
near the opposite end from the stairs.

“Here we are,” she said, tossing a goofy little game
show flourish at the door.
 
She
handed her the last key, relieved that their fingers didn’t touch.

“Thanks,” Gina said.

“Sure.”

Gina stood watching her, expression unreadable.

“Um, so I’ll see you in a few minutes. At the dining
room.” She gestured toward the lodge.

“Yes. Thanks again.”

Meg left before she could say any more stupid stuff.
“Oh, my God,” she muttered as she went down the stairs. Could she be any lamer?
She returned to the dining room, where at least she’d have a bit of safety in
numbers. Her plate was where she’d left it, and so were Marjorie and Jim and
Laura. Good. Because if Gina decided to sit with her one-on-one, she was sure
she’d embarrass the hell out of herself.

“Be right back,” she told the three as she picked her
plate up and went to get another piece of chicken. By the time she sat down
again, she felt composed enough to deal with Gina. At least she’d provide a
nice respite from the reporter for a few days. Who had yet to arrive, she
thought as she bit into her chicken. Or maybe she had, and her dad was dealing
with her. She listened to Marjorie, who was talking about her art to Laura and
Jim. She had just about finished her chicken when Gina approached.

“Mind if I join you?” She smiled down at her, and she
held a plate loaded with food.

“Well, by all means!” Marjorie said before Meg could
speak. “I’m Marjorie. And this is Laura.” she gestured at the young woman next
to her. “And that handsome fellow is Tim, her husband. And this is—”

“Meg,” Gina interrupted with another smile. “I know.
We’ve met. And she does a most excellent introduction to the ranch.” She took
the empty seat on the bench to Meg’s right. “I’m Gina.” She said to the others.

Meg automatically reached for the basket of rolls and
passed them to Gina while Tim pushed the pitcher of iced tea toward her. She
picked Gina’s glass up. “Tea okay?”

Gina nodded. “Great. Thanks.”

She filled Gina’s glass, then Marjorie’s. She was no
longer calm. At least not internally. Her heart was kicking her ribs like a saddle
bronc.

“So where are you from?” Laura asked. “Tim and I are
from Chicago and Marjie’s in from St. Paul.”

“L.A,” Gina said just before she took a bite of
chicken.

Again, Meg tried not to stare but something clicked.
L.A.?

“And what brings you here?” Marjorie pressed.

“I’m a reporter.” Gina reached for a roll with one
hand and held it while she buttered it with the other.

Meg tried hard not to stare at her. Instead, she
rolled that realization around her brain, and stole glances at Gina’s hands. Which
were great, too. Competent and strong. Great eyes, great smile, great hands.
And she was the reporter. Hell.

“Oh, how exciting! Are you doing a story about the
ranch?” Laura leaned forward, interested.

“I am. And I’m going to interview everybody here,
take all your quotes out of context, and write an exposé about Wyoming antelope
trafficking.” She quirked an eyebrow and took a bite of her roll.

Laura looked at her, apparently not sure whether Gina
was kidding or not.

Meg stifled a laugh. “We’ll be sure to show you where
the aliens started mutilating cattle, too.” She took a sip of tea and watched
out of the corner of her eye as Gina flashed her a look. The trace of another
smile hovered on her mouth.

Laura caught up with the joke and laughed. “Well, you
should start your story with Meg. She grew up here.”

“Which means she probably knows all about these
nefarious antelope trafficking networks.” Gina looked at Meg and a slow smile
eased like a summer evening across her face.

“They’ve paid for my silence. The aliens, on the
other hand. . .” Meg shrugged and took another drink.

Marjorie giggled.

“Where will the story be published?”

Gina looked over at Laura. “
Los Angeles Times
. If we’re lucky, it’ll also get a spread in one
of the issues of the Sunday magazine. I’ll be taking a lot of photos while I’m
here. Hopefully a few will make the cut.”

“That’s wonderful,” Marjorie said. “I’m sure Stan
appreciates the publicity,” she looked at Meg for confirmation.

“Definitely.”

“You say that now,” Gina said, “but wait until you
see what I write, first. Although I could get you all kinds of paranormal
researchers, if you just show me the spots where the cattle were mutilated. Or
those other spots where a possible Bigfoot lurks.”

“I might. If you can get an episode of
X-Files
filmed here.”

“You drive a hard bargain,” she said, humor sparking
in her eyes. “I’ll see what I can do. I’m based in L.A., after all. Hollywood
and all that.”

“Oh, I think the Diamond Rock would be a fabulous
location for a western,” Marjorie interjected. “Something like
Silverado
. Or
Lonesome Dove
.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” Gina smiled and took a bite
of green beans.

Meg shifted her attention to her own plate. Gina’s
lips were far too inviting.

Conversation drifted back to Wyoming and the workings
of the Diamond Rock Ranch. Meg answered good-naturedly and she relaxed a
little, since she didn’t have to address Gina one-on-one, with other people
present. She punctuated her responses with a few funny anecdotes, which had
Marjorie and Jim laughing. Laura’s expression was a mixture of disbelief and
amazement. Gina laughed as well, and offered a few teasing comments that
triggered butterflies in Meg’s stomach that she tried to ignore, until a new
round started up, usually whenever Gina glanced at her.

She was just finishing a story about the time Dammit
chased a skunk through the dining room when Stan appeared. He grinned. “Glad to
see y’all having a good time. I need to borrow Meg for a bit.”

Jim, Laura, and Marjorie all responded in kind as
they got up to leave. “We’re going to get ready for the bonfire,” Jim said.
“See you there.”

“You bet.” Stan gave them a wave. “There’ll be hot
drinks in here if you want to bring one fireside.” He turned to Gina. “Did Meg
get you settled?”

“She did. In style.” She glanced at Meg, and more
sparks rode the butterflies through her chest.

“Well, we’re darn pleased to have you. Welcome aboard
and thanks for coming on such short notice. Your editor told me what happened
with the other reporter. Hope she’s okay.”

“She is,” Gina said. “But she’s envious that I’m here.
She wanted to be the annoying reporter. I’m pleased to say that honor has
fallen to me.”

“Oh, no problem. And trust me, no one’s as annoying
as Cherry Goodnight here,” he gestured with his head at Meg.

Gina looked at her, puzzled but amused.

“That’s it, Dutchie.” She punched him playfully on
his arm. “I’ll have Dammit scare up another skunk just for you.”

He grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “So did
you tell Gina here about the time you decided it might be fun to go horseback
riding in the buff?”

Her face flamed and she bit her lip.

“I don’t believe she did. Probably didn’t want anyone
to write something out of context,” Gina said innocently.

“Christ, Dad. I was three. Nothing sordid about that.”

“True.” He stroked his mustache. “Rite of passage for
all Wyoming children. They have to ride a horse naked.”

“How far did you get?” Gina’s eyes seemed to sparkle.

Meg clamped her mouth shut but Stan answered.

“Clean down the county road. Thank God I found her
before her mom did. Else we both would’ve been in a world of hurt. And I’ve got
plenty more like that for your article. Let me know when you want to have a
sit-down. And let me or Meg know if there’s anything you need. She may be annoying,
but she is rather amusing.” He winked and moved away. “Meg, catch me at the
office before the fire.” he shot over his shoulder as he left the dining room.

“Okay.” Still embarrassed, she avoided Gina’s eyes
and instead picked their plates up off the table.

“So,” Gina said as she picked up their glasses. “Naked?”

“I did have boots on.” She headed toward the kitchen
with the dishes and put them in the bus tub that sat on a small table just outside
the door. “I was just a kid.”

Gina placed the glasses in the tub and followed Meg
out of the dining room into the long evening shadows in the parking area. “I
think it’s a hell of a cute story.”

A different kind of flush worked its way up Meg’s
neck. “Please don’t write that one.”

Gina smiled. “Your secret is safe with me. And your
dad. And probably all the other people he tells that to.”

Meg groaned. “Good point.”

“But have no fear. It’s definitely safe with me. By
the way, thanks for the help on Wednesday.”

“Oh, sure.” Meg relaxed, relieved that she changed
the subject. “No problem. Did you get your tire fixed?”

“Yep. And your name is worth five dollars.”

She frowned, confused.

“Jim charged me ten bucks instead of fifteen.”

Meg smiled. “That’s great. Anyway. . .” she cleared
her throat nervously. “If you need anything, let me know.” She groaned inwardly,
and wondered why the hell she couldn’t carry on a decent conversation with her.
She felt exposed in Gina’s gaze, unsettled in the quiet intensity of her eyes
and she wished she knew what Gina was thinking. No, maybe she didn’t.
Because maybe she thinks I’m an idiot
.

“I will. And I’ll see you at the fire.” She held Meg’s
gaze for a couple seconds longer then turned and started walking across the
thirty yards of hard-packed dirt that separated the lodge from the motel. Meg
tried not to stare but the way she looked and moved in those jeans was an open
invitation. And Gina suddenly threw a glance over her shoulder at her.

Busted.

Totally.

She quickly ducked her head and hurried over to the office.
She’d need another shower—cold—at this rate. Hell, she was looking
at a week of cold showers. “Shit,” she muttered as she went inside.

Four

“
G
ina seems
like she’ll write a good
story.”

Meg glanced at Marjorie, seated on the log next to
her. “Oh?”

“I’ve been around a lot of journalists, and you can
tell which ones are the good ones. I think she’s one of those.”

“Let’s hope.” She stared into the flames, which were
slowly collapsing into coals. Gina sat across from her, talking to a couple of
the other guests on the other side of the bonfire gathering place. For the past
hour, she’d surreptitiously studied Gina’s features, and the way she made
gestures with her hands, and the way she brushed her hair out of her face now
and again and she wondered why the hell she kept staring and what the hell was
wrong with her. It was only Gina’s first night here. Hopefully, this crush
would fade quickly. Because it was seriously distracting.

“One of my good friends is a journalist. She’s always
thinking in those terms. Always watching. She constantly observes things. She’d
make a good detective, the things she notices.”

Meg got the feeling that Gina was like that, and not
much got past her. Which could be either good or bad, depending on what she
decided to write.

“A piece in the
Times
will bring lots of publicity.”

“That’s the plan. But we count on guests like you to
spread the word. Unless you have a bad experience, in which case, we have ways
of making you quiet,” she said in a spooky voice.

Marjorie laughed then switched to a different topic.
“Is it difficult, sometimes, not to see your college friends all summer?”

“Not really. There’s email. And most of us are pretty
busy, so by the time we realize we haven’t talked, classes are about to start
again. I might see a few of my friends from Laramie or Cheyenne who come by for
a visit, but other than that, we’ll email a few times.” She shrugged.

“I have a niece who works every summer on a ranch in Arizona.
You remind me of her in some ways. Except she was born a city girl and somehow
found her way out West. She loves working there.”

“See? You could end up a cowgirl, too.”

“I think I just prefer the visiting part,” Marjorie
said with a smile. Laura appeared, and after they all exchanged greetings, she
and Marjorie chatted about St. Paul.

Meg leaned back and looked up, at the myriad stars that
salted the night sky and flavored the splashes of Milky Way, and she imagined
that she and Gina were the only ones out here, sitting together on the log,
chill of the night at their backs and warmth of the flames on their faces.

She shifted her gaze back to the fire. Davey blocked
her view of Gina because he was talking to her, his back to Meg. Gina didn’t
seem the type to get sucked in by guys like him, but his actions irritated her,
as she watched. No way was he just trying to be nice. His motives always
involved a lot more than just passing the time and being hospitable. She glared
a hole into his back and he did move, but only to sit on the log next to Gina.
To Meg’s satisfaction, Gina didn’t seem all that pleased about it, and spent
the next few minutes nodding politely as he spoke. At least, that’s what it
looked like.