Cowboy to the Core

“That’s it.” Cutter swatted at a worrisome horsefly. “I’ll go with you. Got to work up a pasta appetite by seven.”

ODORS OF FUNNEL CAKES, roasting meats and frying fish and chips greeted them the moment they stepped from their car among dozens of other arriving festival patrons. Dani’s mouth watered in spite of the pastries and coffee they’d stopped for en route.

Celeste and Katie hurried ahead of her, their tennis shoes kicking up dust along the well-traveled path that maneuvered among row upon row of parked cars and pickup trucks.

The air sparked with chatter, laughter and an electric excitement among the festival goers, many dressed in elaborate costumes.

They were greeted at the gate by a jovial, middle-aged man dressed in a short red and green skirt over tights. From his looks, he might have ushered them into the king’s court a century ago. Dani was starting to catch the spirit in spite of her earlier reservations.

Once inside what appeared to be the city walls, activity increased dramatically, and her imagination was spurred by the line of fascinating shops and concessions and the number of people in creative costumes. Old England had never had it so good.

Weirdly, she had a strange tingle of anticipation dancing inside her as if something big was going to happen to her this weekend. Maybe Bethany’s friend would turn out to be a winner.

Forget it. There wasn’t a man alive who could tolerate a woman psychic for long, and she would not put herself and Celeste through another divorce to prove that point.

She hurried to keep up with the girls, then slowed to gawk at a voluptuous young woman bulging out of an outfit that consisted mostly of chain mail. The woman posed for a whiskered guy in an Astros cap who was all but salivating as he snapped her picture.

Dani turned to catch sight of Katie and Celeste walking toward a nearby dress shop. They sashayed past a hunky cowboy and disappeared inside. The guy looked out of place. Not because of his worn jeans, scuffed boots and black Stetson. After all, this was Texas. But the recalcitrant grimace on his craggy face made it clear he wasn’t joining in the revelry that surrounded him.

He looked up and caught her staring at him. An unwelcome burn crept to her cheeks as he tipped his hat and traded the frown for a devastating smile. Oh, well, he was probably used to females admiring his blatant virility.

Head high and looking straight ahead, she strode right past him. She followed the sound of girls’ giggling to the back of the shop. Celeste was holding up a low-cut sapphire-blue gown. The padded cups at the top of the lacing could hold a set of double Ds. Celeste had trouble filling out her training bra.

“You’re a little too young to go the wench route,” Dani said.

“You could wear it, Ms. Baxter,” Katie said. “You’d be hot!”

“We’re going to a wedding, not a bawdry bash.” At least she hoped that was the case; Dani had traded hot for sophisticated several years ago, at the same time she’d swapped her cheating husband for single parenthood and a position with Duran Muton.

“How about these?” Dani said, moving to a rack of pastel-hued, ankle-length dresses with puffy sleeves and high-buttoned necklines.

Celeste scrunched her nose as if she smelled a skunk. “I’d look like a kid.”

“You are a kid.”

“Ooh, look at this,” Katie called, her gaze riveted on a handkerchief-layered skirt of various hues of blue and green, topped with a white peasant blouse. It hung on the highest rack, slightly out of reach.

A youthful clerk dressed in knee-high black boots, tights and a clingy, crimson blouson appeared from between the garment racks. Hooking the hanger, she retrieved the outfit so they could get a better look.

“We’re attending a dinner tonight on the grounds and a Renaissance wedding tomorrow morning,” Dani explained. “Do you have any suggestions as to what would be considered appropriate attire?”

“Just about anything from the period will go for the dinner. People get very daring and inventive at those affairs. But fairies, definitely fairies for the girls for the wedding. You’re both so petite. You’ll be adorable nymphs.”

“Adorable?” Celeste groaned.

“You just uttered the kiss of death,” Dani said.

The clerk took a step backward and gave Dani a studied once-over. “I have just the dress for you for the wedding.”

“Nothing too revealing,” Dani said as the clerk hurried away.

Celeste and Katie moved to the rack of fairy dresses, airy confections that came with their own silver wings. Dani sneaked a peek at a cherry-red blouson with exquisite embroidered details, topped by a black leather bustier pulled so tight it was almost as if the big-breasted mannequin didn’t have a waist.

Incredibly sexy. Probably similar to what the cowboy’s girlfriend was trying on while he waited outside. One glimpse of her in that would no doubt wipe the grimace right off his handsome, tanned face.

Impulsively, she scanned the area. The cowboy was nowhere in sight. Irritated at herself for giving the guy a second thought, she went back to perusing a rack of dresses. She held one up in front of the floor-length mirror. Over her shoulder she caught a reflection of a nice-looking man in a blue knit shirt who seemed to be staring at her from around the sexy mannequin.

For a second, she thought he was one of the reps she did business with. On second glance, she realized he wasn’t. His hair was not only darker but he had a lot more of it than the rep. She hung the dress back on the rack and moved on until she heard the clerk’s voice.

“I practically had to pluck it from a customer’s hands, but she didn’t have the figure to wear it anyway. You’ll be a knockout in it.”

Dani turned. Her pulse quickened. Her knees went weak. The luscious frock in the clerk’s hands was almost a dead second for the green gown from her nightmare.

“Is something wrong? Are you ill?”

The clerk’s voice floated above her, distorted by a thick fog that clouded Dani’s mind. Slowly the haze cleared, and the attacking images became sharp and chilling. She struggled to breathe.

“Move back. Give her air.”

Her gaze sought out the voice. The cowboy. She reached out to him as her body crumpled, and she sank into a bloody river of darkness.

Chapter Two

Marcus knelt beside the fallen woman and felt her pulse. It was slow but not in the danger zone. Her eyes fluttered open, and her gaze met his. A heated jolt galloped up his spine. A weird reaction to a woman he’d never met, even one as attractive as this. It had to be the haunted shadows in the depths of her big brown eyes.

“Are you a doctor?” someone asked.

“I’m a combat medic.” He turned to the crowd. “Stand back a bit. She needs air.”

The hovering bystanders retreated a few inches as two young girls pushed through them. “Mom! What happened?”

“It’s okay, Celeste. I’m fine.” The woman’s voice was uneven, and she swayed when she tried to get up.

“Whoa, there,” Marcus said, reaching out to steady her. “Take it slow.”

“Did you fall?” the other girl questioned.

“She passed out,” someone volunteered.

Another onlooker pointed her finger at Marcus. “He’s a combat medic, trained on the battlefield. He knows what he’s doing.”

The woman was standing now, and she shook loose of Marcus’s protective grasp. “I just fainted,” she insisted. “Believe me, I’m fine.”

Maybe, but from what Marcus had seen, that wasn’t the full story. He‘d been looking right at her—okay, checking her out—when the clerk had brushed by him and held up a long green dress for the woman to admire.

Instead her face had twisted into the kind of agonizing pain he’d seen on soldiers when they’d taken a direct hit. Not the kind of reaction one would expect from a woman eyeballing a ball gown in a Renaissance festival shop.

“You should at least let me check your pulse again,” Marcus said.