Chapter Six
They made love again on the cusp of morning drowsiness, with slow, delicious passion. Afterward, Sam rolled out of bed, pulled on his clothes, and headed for a few minutes in the bathroom. The time had come for him to leave.
Curled between the sheets, Jasmine waited for the lingering pleasure to fade. It was too soon. She wasn’t ready to let him go. She wanted to see his face and hear his voice a little longer.
He came back into the room, his face freshly washed and his damp hair finger-combed. Stubble made a sexy shadow along his jawline.
She sat up. “You need to eat,” she said. “We could order breakfast from room service.”
“That would take at least an hour,” he said. “I don’t have that kind of time. But we could grab a quick bite in the coffee shop downstairs.”
“That would be fine, if you’re not worried about being seen.”
“Two people having coffee in public shouldn’t raise any flags. Let’s get going. I can check my phone while you’re getting dressed.”
“I’ll hurry.” She flew out of bed. Ten minutes later, they left the room and headed for the elevator.
Jasmine was wearing jeans, a loose-fitting Grateful Dead tee, a baseball cap, and the barest touch of makeup.
They looked like a couple of tourists who’d gotten in late after a long drive, Jasmine thought. Nobody would give them a second glance.
In the crowded coffee shop, all of the booths were taken.
Jasmine and Sam had to settle for a small table in the middle of the floor.
Sam ordered plain black coffee. Jasmine took hers with cream and wheat toast. The place was too noisy for private conversation, but at least Jasmine could satisfy herself with watching her man across the table and hoping for another night in his arms.
Sam was sitting with his back toward the coffee shop’s wide entrance.
Looking past him, Jasmine’s eye was caught by a well-dressed couple passing from the direction of the lobby.
The tall, thin man was wearing a fedora and a tan, summer-weight sport jacket.
The petite blonde on his arm was dressed in white slacks and a matching jacket with a broad-brimmed, black sun hat.
They paused and turned, as if checking for a place to eat.
For an instant, the woman’s eyes made contact with Jasmine’s.
There was an unmistakable flicker of recognition before they moved on and vanished.
Jasmine’s hand shook, splattering coffee on the tablecloth.
“What is it? Is something wrong?” Sam asked.
“No, I’m fine. I just thought I saw … But never mind, I was wrong,” Jasmine lied, grateful that Sam hadn’t spotted the pair.
What would Darrin and Simone be doing here in Las Vegas?
Did their presence have something to do with her, or with their mother?
Clearly, Simone had recognized her. She could only hope that Darrin’s scheming wife hadn’t recognized Sam as well.
One thing was almost certain. The conniving pair hadn’t come to Las Vegas on a holiday. Until she could discover what they were up to, it would be safest to keep Sam in the dark. When she knew more, she could decide when and how much to tell him.
She was already keeping one secret from Sam. Now she had chosen to keep one more.
Standing behind the fence at the practice arena, Cheyenne made her Thursday morning call to her mother. Rachel answered on the first ring as if she’d been waiting with the phone in her hand.
“Hello, dear. Are you all right?” Her natural voice had a sharp tone, which made her sound almost angry, but Cheyenne was accustomed to that.
“I’m fine, Mom. Just watching the cowboys exercise their horses. I’m learning a lot about what makes a good cow horse.”
“And what about that young man who offered to help you? Is he behaving like a gentleman?”
“Of course, he is.” Cheyenne sighed. Last night after dinner with some of his cowboy friends and their girls, Hayden had escorted her back to her floor. His behavior in the elevator had been anything but gentlemanly, giving her a preview of what she could expect if she welcomed him into her room.
Why not? she’d asked herself. She was almost twenty-one, and it wasn’t like she was a virgin. Why not now, with someone who was handsome, well-spoken, and obviously knew what he was doing. She might even let herself fall in love.
She had invited him into the room. He’d lowered her to the bed and gotten as far as unfastening her jeans.
But when his hand had invaded her panties, she’d felt the first trickle of panic.
Instinctively, she’d begun to push away from him, then to struggle.
Hayden had chuckled and continued, evidently taking her resistance as play.
The sound of Roper arriving at his room across the hall had put an end to the drama. Hayden had stood, tucked in his shirt, and zipped his jeans. “To be continued,” he’d said, grinning. Then, after making sure the coast was clear, he’d left.
“Cheyenne, are you still there?” Her mother’s voice on the phone jerked her back to the present.
“Sorry, Mom, I got distracted. Do you plan to be here tomorrow?”
“I wouldn’t miss the chance to see Roper ride. Stetson will be driving. He knows the way.”
“What about Dad?”
“I’ve hired a young man from church to stay with him and take care of the animals. He should be fine.”
Cheyenne and Roper had agreed not to tell their mother about the incident on the freeway or the trouble with the horses. Rachel would only worry and probably wear herself out praying.
“Since you’re getting here a day early, we’ll have time for some sightseeing,” Cheyenne said, changing the subject. “There’s a lot to see in Las Vegas—the big hotels on the strip, the shops, the shows, and the casinos. You can even drop some change in the slots, maybe win some money. It’ll be fun.”
Rachel gasped. “Not on your life! I’ve heard what goes on in those palaces of sin.
I wouldn’t be caught dead in one. Las Vegas is the domain of the devil.
I plan to stay in our room and watch TV or read until time for the big reining event.
And I hope you’ll stay with me. I get nervous, alone in a big city. Is your brother all right?”
“I suppose so. He’s been so busy with the horses that I’ve barely seen him.”
“Well, I made him promise to keep an eye on you. I may need to give him a call about that.”
“Oh, please don’t bother, Mom. He’s got so much weighing on his mind. And I’m too old to need a babysitter. Call me when you get into town tomorrow.”
Cheyenne ended the call before her mother could argue and turned her attention back to the practice arena, where several riders were giving their mounts a gentle workout to keep them loosened up for tonight’s $250,000 cutting-horse challenge.
True to his word, Hayden had given her behind-the-scenes access to the riders and their superb horses.
It hadn’t escaped her notice that all of the riders were men.
Competing on their level would be a challenge.
She might have to start with women’s events.
But she’d never lacked for drive or discipline.
She wouldn’t be satisfied with anything but her best.
There were several women finalists in the Run for a Million and even more women in an event called Reined Cow Horse, in which riders and their horses competed in reining and then in controlling a single cow.
Cheyenne was intrigued. But to compete would require an exquisitely trained horse, and she’d have to master both reining and cutting skills. For now, cutting would be enough.
Clearing her thoughts, she focused on the riders—how they sat their mounts and how they used subtle pressure from their legs to communicate with their horses.
Hayden’s paint gelding, Steely Dan, was a beautiful animal, smart and responsive. And Hayden was an impressive rider. Watching the pair, Cheyenne could understand why Hayden had such high hopes.
The memory of last night flashed through her mind. But this was no time to think about what had gone wrong and why. Today, everything was about winning tonight’s $250,000 prize and the prestige that went with it.
Now Cheyenne’s eyes shifted to Buck Tolson. He sat his rangy buckskin horse with the confidence of a man who has nothing to prove, his posture easy, his narrowed gaze detached, as if no one else in the arena was of any consequence.
Hayden had introduced her to several of the cowboys in the competition. Most of them had already known who she was, and they’d been friendly. Buck Tolson had not been among them.
This morning Tolson had scarcely given her a glance.
But Cheyenne could sense the awareness burning between them.
He was not a pretty man, but his rugged features were attractive.
He looked older than most of the riders.
He would be about Roper’s age, she calculated.
But why should that matter? Only one thing seemed evident. He didn’t approve of her being here.
Some of the riders had finished working their horses and were leaving the arena. Cheyenne was waiting for Hayden to dismount when she saw a white-haired man, possibly a judge, come out of the back, catch his attention, and beckon him to the gate.
Cheyenne kept her distance, watching as Hayden dismounted and led his horse to where the older man stood. The two exchanged a few words. Hayden’s expression froze, then shattered like a skim of winter ice. The older man laid a hand on his arm.
Cheyenne hurried toward them. Hayden turned toward her, his face pale. “It’s my father. His plane went down over New Mexico. He’s been taken to a hospital in Gallup, but he’s not expected to survive.” He shook his head. “I’ve got to go right now.”
“Oh, Hayden!” Cheyenne ached for him. He’d be missing tonight’s Cutting Horse Challenge, but at a time like this, that couldn’t be allowed to matter.