It Takes a Cowboy. GINA WILKINS
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“Maybe there’s a medication that could help him.”
Blair cleared her throat. “Actually, I’m taking Jeffrey to see someone next week. Someone who has a great deal of experience with troubled boys.” She saw no need to add that her expert was a cowboy, not a counselor, especially since her aunt seemed so encouraged by the news.
They were both getting desperate, it seemed.
* * *
BY WEDNESDAY AFTERNOON, Blair was beginning to wonder if Scott McKay had forgotten all about her. If they were supposed to get together on Friday, they needed to make plans. Coordinate their schedules. Perhaps make a list of the things she wanted Scott to talk about with Jeffrey.
She would feel a lot better about all of this if she could just make a few lists.
Maybe she should call him, she thought, sitting in her office Wednesday afternoon, too distracted to concentrate on the stacks of paperwork piled on the desk in front of her. Scott hadn’t given her his number, but she imagined it would be easy enough to get it from Lindsay Duncan. She could call him and simply ask if something else had come up. Or if he’d perhaps changed his mind.
But he was the one who had talked her into agreeing with this outing, even after she had decided it wasn’t such a good idea, she reminded herself. Why should she call him? It was his responsibility to follow up on his offer.
Still, she had paid sixty-five hundred dollars for a weekend of his time....
Her phone rang just as she was telling herself she should probably write off the donation and forget the whole thing. She picked up the receiver. “Blair Townsend.”
“Ms. Townsend, this is Carolyn Roberts. I work for Scott McKay.”
“Yes?”
“Mr. McKay asked me to call you to inquire if ten o’clock Friday morning is a convenient time for you and your nephew to meet him.”
Blair wondered why Scott hadn’t called her himself. She glanced at the calendar, though she knew nothing was written on it for Friday. She’d been keeping that day open for this. “Ten o’clock will be fine. Where does he want me to meet him?”
“At the Lightning Creek airstrip. Do you have a fax machine?”
Blinking in surprise at the unexpected question, Blair replied, “Yes, I do. Why—”
“If you’ll give me your fax number, I’ll send you the list of items Mr. McKay recommends that you bring with you.”
A list? While Blair approved of lists in general, she wondered why Scott was sending her a list of supplies. Just what was he planning, anyway? “May I speak to Mr. McKay?” she requested, thinking this would be much easier without the middleman—or rather, middle person.
“Mr. McKay is in Japan. He won’t be back in this country until Thursday evening.”
“He’s in Japan?” Blair parroted blankly.
“Yes. He left all the information he thought you might require. He said if you have any questions, you should feel free to call me and I’ll relay them to him.”
It sounded like more trouble than it was worth; much easier to simply go along with Scott’s plans. Had that been his intention?
Carolyn Roberts recited her telephone number, which Blair quickly jotted down. “Call me anytime tomorrow if there’s anything you need. I’ll fax Mr. McKay’s list to you within the half hour.”
Blair felt a bit dazed when she hung up the phone. What was Scott doing in Japan and why had he had his—secretary? assistant? housekeeper? mistress?—whatever she was, call Blair? And what was this list being faxed to her?
She prowled the office for ten minutes before the fax machine rang. She practically pounced on the pages it spat out. One look at the list had her sinking bonelessly into her chair again.
Clothes for three days—jeans, T-shirts, lightweight jackets. Hiking boots. Sunscreen. Toiletries. Favorite pillows and teddy bears.
“Cute,” she muttered, reading the last. “Where on earth are you planning to take us, Scott McKay?”
She should probably call Carolyn back immediately and tell her the weekend was off unless Scott called personally to discuss his plans—even if he had to call from Japan. Blair didn’t care for surprises, and she was not an outdoorsy type. This list hinted strongly at both possibilities.
But then she pictured Jeffrey hiking along a nice trail, enjoying the fresh air and wonders of nature, responding—despite himself—to Scott’s easy, cheerful banter. Apparently, Scott had arranged for them to stay in a rustic lodge or cabin. Perhaps he could take Jeffrey fishing or something, which would give them a chance to talk while male bonding. Blair wouldn’t mind sitting on a porch swing with a good book while Scott tried to communicate with her nephew. She hadn’t had a vacation in the entire year since she’d moved to Lightning Creek—nor the year before that, actually—and she could use a break.
Maybe she’d even do a little hiking herself, she mused, imagining a leisurely amble along a well-marked path with frequent stops to sniff a wildflower or read a park information sign.
She’d lived in Wyoming for a year and hadn’t even seen Yellowstone Park yet. Was that where Scott was taking them? She supposed that wouldn’t be so bad. And most important, perhaps Jeffrey would enjoy it.
She would go through with this, she thought. But only for Jeffrey.
What other reason could there be?
* * *
“WHO IS THIS GUY we’re going to meet?” Jeffrey asked, not for the first time, as Blair drove toward the airport Friday morning.
“His name—as I’ve told you before—is Scott McKay. He’s a rancher and a businessman. A former resident of Lost Springs.”
“Oh, great,” Jeffrey grumbled. “A geek.”
“He’s not a geek,” Blair corrected. Not even close, she thought with an unwelcome mental image of his strong, bare chest. She ordered herself immediately to stop doing that.
Jeffrey tossed his brown hair out of his face. “So where are we going? Why’d we pack all that stuff?”
“I’m not sure where we’re going, exactly. Scott’s going to surprise us. It should be fun,” she added, trying to convince herself as well as her nephew.
Jeffrey’s grunt was not encouraging. “I guess it beats being in school,” he muttered.
“Just let yourself have a good time, okay, Jeffrey? It’s okay to have fun. And listen to Mr. McKay. There are probably a lot of things you can learn from him.”
Jeffrey rolled his eyes and slumped in his seat, looking as if he were on his way to a root canal. Blair had to try one more time to put him in the proper frame of mind for this experiment. “Come on, Jeffrey. Surely you like being outdoors. Having adventures. Seeing new things.”
“I like having adventures with my dad. Not with strangers.”
The boy’s sullen response made Blair’s heart ache. She was trying so hard to repair the damage her careless, irresponsible brother had caused this child. But she was beginning to believe it was something she couldn’t accomplish alone.
“Just give Scott a chance,” she repeated quietly. “Maybe you’ll like him.”
The boy shrugged. “What does it matter if I like him or not? He won’t be around long. Nobody is.”
“I will be,” Blair told him firmly. “Don’t you doubt that.”
Her nephew merely looked out the window beside him, his expression unreadable, much too contained for his years. Either he didn’t believe her reassurances that she wouldn’t abandon him, as everyone else in his life had, or he was afraid to believe her for fear of being