The Man Who Had Everything

The shopkeeper showed them where they were supposed to stand. Trixiebelle, a real trouper, didn’t balk once as Steph led her up onto the float and into position and then swung herself into the saddle before Grant could jump up there and offer to help.

As if a skilled horsewoman liked Steph needed a hand up. She’d laugh at him if he offered. And she’d probably suspect that he was only trying to get a look under that short skirt, anyway.

Get a look under her skirt?

Where the hell had that come from?

He was thirty-two years old, for crying out loud. Far past the age when a guy tried to find ways to sneak a peek up a girl’s skirt.

“Grant. Are you with me here?” Arletta was frowning, looking slightly miffed. “I need your full attention, now.”

He shook himself and tried to appear alert. “You got it.”

She pointed. “Stand there.”

He took his place by the crinkled foil stream and Arletta stood back to study the picture they made. “Hmm,” she said, somehow managing to be both thoughtful and agitated at the same time. “Hmm… oh, no. Oh, my…”

“What?” Grant demanded, beginning to worry that his fly might be open.

“It’s too spotty.”

Grant cast a quick glance Steph’s way. He could tell she was trying real hard not to laugh. “Uh…spotty?” he carefully inquired.

Arletta frowned with great seriousness. “Yes. The composition. It’s simply not…pulled together.”

The high school band had started to play at the front of the line. “I think we’re going to be rolling in a minute or two here,” he warned.

“You’re right. Action must be taken.” Arletta started pointing again. “Grant. Lean that pan against the rail fence. And go stand by the horse—yes. Right there. At the head. Stephanie, let him hold the reins.” Steph muffled a snort of amusement as she handed them over. “Much better, yes….” Arletta kept rattling off instructions. “Grant, you’ll have to wave with that nugget, hold it up nice and high so everyone can see you’ve really struck it rich. Do it.”

He waved with the fake nugget.

“Oh, yes. That’s it. And Stephanie, take off your hat, wave with it. Big smiles, both of you. Big, big smiles.” Grant smiled for all he was worth. Evidently Steph, mounted behind, was doing the same. Because Arletta clapped her hands and cried out gleefully, “Exactly! We’ve got it. That’s perfect! Wonderful! Just right!”

And just in time, too. The float gave a lurch and started moving—slowly, like a big ocean liner inching from port. They pulled away from Arletta, who continued to gesture wildly and rattle off instructions. “Wave, Grant! That’s it. Wave that nugget. Smiling, you two. Don’t forget. Smiling, smiling! That’s the way…”

He felt the toe of Steph’s fancy boot gently nudge him in the middle of the back.

“What?” he growled out of the corner of his mouth as he waved his nugget high and proud.

She nudged him again, but she didn’t say a word. He glanced back at her and she was waving that big hat of hers, smiling wide at the crowds that lined the covered sidewalks to either side. People cheered and stomped in appreciation and kids ran out in the street to grab the candy and bubble gum the driver of the truck that pulled the float was tossing in handfuls out his open window.

Up ahead, the band played “Yankee Doodle Dandy.” Grant looked out at the crowd and thought that he’d never seen so many people crowding the streets of his town.

This Thunder Canyon Fourth of July Parade was the biggest one ever, by far.

Even in that silly miner’s getup, with the fake nugget in his hand, Grant felt a surge of real pride—that his town was growing. Thriving. That he was a part of Thunder Canyon’s new prosperity. That his own efforts had contributed, at least a little, to the boom that had started with a modern-day gold rush and continued with the swift and rousing success of the Thunder Canyon Resort.

Chapter Nine

As the float rolled down Main Street, past the charming century-old brick buildings and covered sidewalks of Thunder Canyon’s Old Town, Steph waved her hat wildly—and planned her next move with Grant.

Her mom wouldn’t have approved of her scheming in the least. Partly because Marie Julen was a woman who found scheming beneath her—and partly because she remained doubtful about her daughter’s decision to grab her chance with Grant while she could.

Too bad. Steph was all grown-up now, old enough to make her own decisions. Yeah, she and Grant had had a rough patch in their new relationship when he’d considered selling the ranch. But they’d gotten through that. Things were looking up in big way.

And today was a day tailor-made to suit her plans. A great opportunity for the two of them to be together, to enjoy each other’s company. To have a little fun.

The celebrations would continue all day and into the night. There would be the annual races, right there on Main Street. And after the races, over at the fairgrounds, the big Independence Day Rodeo. She planned to sit next to Grant for the rodeo—except during the barrel races where she was a contestant.

She figured she could leave him on his own while she competed. By then, he’d feel duty-bound to root for her while she raced—especially since the resort was her sponsor and had paid a pretty penny for her top-of-the-line gear.

After the rodeo, she’d get him to take her to dinner. And after dinner, the big Independence Day dance.

She just had to make sure that, when the parade was over, Grant didn’t get away.

The problem was Trixiebelle. She needed to get the mare back to her trailer and over to the fairgrounds for the rodeo. But if she took the time do all that, she just knew Grant would find some way to disappear on her. It never paid to give a skittish man the time to have second thoughts. To keep him with her for the day, she’d have to stay close at his side from the moment the float pulled to a stop.

She needed someone to take care of Trixiebelle—and what do you know? As the float finished its ride down Main and turned into the parking lot of a local motel called the Wander-On Inn, she spotted Rufus and Jim. The hands stood right there on the sidewalk, at the edge of the lot.

She waved at them and shouted, “Rufus! Hey, meet us when this thing comes to a stop!”

Rufus pulled a sour face, but he and Jim were there waiting when she led Trixiebelle down off the float. Arletta, who’d somehow managed to race down Main through the packed crowds and was waiting when the parade trailed into the motel lot, had cornered Grant again and was gushing all over him.

Great.

She had a minute or two, at least, before he’d have time to make his escape.

“Rufus—”

The old cowboy grunted. “You say my name that way, gal, and I know I’m about to be gettin’ my orders.”

“I just wonder if you’d mind taking Trixiebelle back to the parking lot at Cedar Street? Her trailer’s there, hitched to my pickup, along with my racing costume and barrel saddle. If you could—”

“Hell. Why not?” He knew where to meet her and what time. He rattled them off. “Right?”

“Thanks.”

“No thanks are needed—and you better hurry. Looks like your gold miner’s gettin’ away.”

She laughed and paused long enough to kiss his grizzled cheek. “You know too much, you realize that.”

“I’m arthritic, not blind. Best get a move on.” Beside him, Jim was looking at the ground.

Steph knew the hand was kind of sweet on her, but she’d never encouraged him. She’d always kept things strictly professional between them.

Now, when he finally glanced up, she gave him a quick, no-nonsense nod—not ignoring him, but not encouraging him, either—and then whirled, her mind instantly back on the man who filled her heart. Grant was heading off into the crowd.

“Hey, Mr. Miner!”