Best Man in Wyoming Read online

  The Lost Springs Ranch for troubled boys is at stake, and it’s a man’s duty to give back...

  So there’s going to be an auction!

  Bachelor #12

  Name: Rex Trowbridge

  Occupation: Attorney, and director of Lost Springs Ranch.

  Biggest Achievement: Becoming a wine connoisseur in rural Wyoming.

  Lindsay Duncan had hastily proposed a camping trip with some of the boys from the ranch, and she wanted—needed—Rex Trowbridge to accompany them. Could elegant Rex even ride a horse anymore? Could he stand to spend long days with her and six high-spirited boys? Could he stop teasing her long enough to recognize what was really simmering between the two of them—and do something about it before it was too late?

  Sugar Spinelli’s

  Little Instruction Book

  Now, this Rex Trowbridge is a slick one! He’s turned out real elegant, real lawyerlike! Sits on the board of directors for the ranch, drives a big ol’ fancy car.… But I wouldn’t be one bit surprised if he hasn’t cooked up something with little Lindsay Duncan. If those two aren’t in cahoots, I’ll eat my shirt. She’s biddin’ on him now—I knew it! Those two are up to something, for sure. Of course, they’ve known each other for close to twenty years. Old friends, Lindsay always says. Hah. That look in Rex’s eye when he glances her way is not friendship.…

  Dear Reader,

  We just knew you wouldn’t want to miss the news event that has all of Wyoming abuzz. There’s a herd of eligible bachelors on their way to Lightning Creek—and they’re all for sale!

  Cowboy, park ranger, rancher, P.I.—they all grew up at Lost Springs Ranch, and every one of these mavericks has his price, so long as the money’s going to help keep Lost Springs afloat.

  The auction is about to begin! Young and old, every woman in the state wants in on the action, so pony up some cash and join the fun. The man of your dreams might just be up for grabs.…

  Marsha Zinberg

  Editorial Coordinator,

  Heart of the West

  Best Man in Wyoming

  Margot Dalton

  Margot Dalton is acknowledged

  as the author of this work.

  A Note from the Author

  When I was asked to do a book for the Heart of the West series, I must confess to hesitating for a couple of heartbeats. For one thing, I was heavily booked up at the time with other projects. Also, a limited continuity series presents a set of unique challenges to any writer. But then I heard a little more about the stories, and learned that my book was going to involve childhood friends who take many years to fall deeply in love. Since this is exactly what happened to my husband and me, I began to get intrigued. And I discovered the series is set on a boys’ ranch in southern Wyoming, one of the most wild and magnificent places in all the world.

  Immediately I began to picture a camping trip in the mountains with some boys from the ranch, an outing that goes terribly wrong. I imagined a couple who go along to look after the boys—longtime friends who, under the most trying and frightening of circumstances, find themselves falling passionately in love.

  Well, by that time I was hooked, just as my editor knew I would be. The result is Best Man in Wyoming. I sincerely hope you have as much fun with this story as I did.

  Margot Dalton

  For Marsha Zinberg—who’s more fun to work with than anyone I’ve ever met!

  Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER ONE

  REX TROWBRIDGE’S new car was a Cadillac sedan, gunmetal gray with a black leather interior and every option he could think of. The big sleek vehicle was satisfying to him in a deep, almost visceral way. Not only did this new car announce his hard-won success with its quiet luxury and power, the Caddy also set him apart from most of his peers, who drove pretentious sport-utility vehicles.

  Privately Rex was amused by these fellow lawyers and the doctors and accountants with their costly four-by-fours.

  Sheer hypocrisy, he told himself.

  All of them were trying to look like rugged outdoorsmen, when the truth was, they were too busy making money to take a vehicle off-road for any reason.

  His new car announced its owner simply as a hard-hitting successful man who lived for his job and didn’t pretend to be anything he wasn’t.

  Rex enjoyed the solid thunk of the door, the sparkle of setting sun on chrome and glass as he parked near the show ring at the Lost Springs Ranch for Boys, got out and adjusted his dark glasses, then looked around.

  The ranch was holding a bachelor auction fund-raiser and the place thronged with people. Booths and exhibits were set up in the yard, selling everything from lemonade to homemade quilts. It looked more like a county fair than a bachelor auction.

  Not that he knew how such a bizarre event was supposed to look, Rex thought, checking out his immaculate white shirtfront, the black onyx studs, gray silk cummerbund and crisp tuxedo trousers.

  Rex knew the monkey suit looked good on him. The two seamstresses who’d done the alterations had practically gone into raptures over the fit on his tall frame with its broad shoulders and lean waist.

  Still, he felt deeply uncomfortable. In fact, he wished the whole event were over with.

  Or better yet, he wished Lindsay could just have left him out of it altogether. But that was probably too much to ask, once his busy little friend got an idea in her head.... Besides, as owner of the ranch for troubled youths, she had a lot at stake here today.

  He made his way to the arena and found a seat on the stage next to a tall, dark-haired man in the dress uniform of a U.S. Marine.

  “Nick!” he said, doing a double take when he recognized the man’s handsome features. “What brings you here? I thought you were out keeping the world safe for the rest of us.”

  Grinning, Nick Petrocelli shifted in his chair, stretching his long legs in the blue dress trousers. “I was supposed to be here for a little R and R,” he said wryly.

  Rex grinned and punched his friend lightly on the arm. “Lindsay got to you, too?” he asked.

  Petrocelli nodded. “That cousin of mine could talk the birds down from the trees. But I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

  “Why are you doing it?” Rex asked, puzzled. “You weren’t in the catalog, were you?”

  Nick shook his well-barbered head. “No, I was spared that embarrassment, at least. Lindsay was so excited about the response to this whole ridiculous idea, she bullied a few more of the guys into going along with it. I got tagged because I was out here for a visit. She even had this old uniform stored away in a closet, so she made me wear it.”

  “Hey, you look great,” Rex said. “With any luck at all, you’ll be scooped up by some military groupie who wants to spend a weekend playing paintball in the woods.”

  Nick lifted a dark brow. “You’re awfully chipper for a peng
uin.”

  Rex smiled amiably and watched as Lindsay rushed past in a bright-red dress, holding a clipboard and looking harried. Her short blond hair stood out around her head in a rumpled halo of curls and her pretty face was drawn with fatigue, contrasting sharply with the brightness of her outfit.

  “She may be excited about all this,” he told Nick, “but it’s still been damned hard on her, getting it organized.”

  “She’s got a huge emotional investment in the whole thing. She can hardly eat or sleep, worrying about what’s going to happen if it doesn’t all work out the way she’s hoping.”

  Rex felt a jolt of sympathy as he watched Lindsay moving through the crowd. With her slim erect figure and the bright crown of hair, she looked like a glowing red candle.

  Abruptly he turned aside and leafed through the auction catalog he’d been sent, searching for his own page.

  A man stared back at him from within the glossy brochure, looking suave and relaxed in tux and horn-rimmed glasses, holding a file folder. His sandy hair was smoothly combed and the blue eyes were level and unrevealing, though his mouth lifted on one side in a crooked, sardonic grin.

  Rex always found it strange and a little unsettling to look at photographs of himself. This man on paper in front of him, the face he showed the world were so utterly different from the real person who was never revealed to anybody.

  It was like examining a picture of some handsome stranger.

  “Rex Trowbridge,” the idiotic text read. “A man who’s terrific in briefs...and not just legal briefs! Rex is thirty-three years old and came to Lost Springs Ranch when he was twelve. He attended UCLA, where he obtained a law degree with distinction. Rex is now a junior partner with a Casper, Wyoming law firm and enjoys gourmet cooking, classical music and collecting first editions of nineteenth century English literature. Any gal with a taste for the finer things would dearly love a dream date with this luscious lawyer.”

  Nick was reading over his shoulder. “Luscious lawyer,” he snorted. “God, that’s rich.”

  “Lindsay’s copywriters got a little carried away with this thing,” Rex agreed. “Just be damn glad you aren’t included.”

  He settled back in the chair, looking around at the familiar faces of his old schoolmates waiting to be auctioned off, while Nick watched the excited crowd of women, many of whom were turning surreptitiously to study him.

  “All the ladies are attracted by your uniform,” Rex told his companion. “God knows what kind of date you’re going to wind up with.”

  Nick looked increasingly amused. “So what about you?” he said at last. “You don’t seem very worried about all this.”

  “I’m not worried.” Rex leaned back comfortably.

  “Why not?”

  “Don’t tell anybody, but Lindsay and I have an understanding,” Rex murmured, knowing that Nick Petrocelli was the most discreet guy in the world.

  “What kind of an understanding?”

  “She’s going to buy me,” Rex said, “and I’ll reimburse her for whatever she has to pay. That way the ranch will get the money but I won’t have to go on some ridiculous date.”

  Nick grinned. “You lucky dog. If I’d known she was open to bargains, I’d have done something like that myself.”

  “I doubt if she would have agreed to anything at this point.”

  “Yeah? So how did you manage to work out your deal with her?”

  Rex shrugged. “Way back at the beginning when we first came up with the auction idea, Lindsay said she needed to have me in the catalog so she could talk the other guys into it. I told her those were my terms, take it or leave it.”

  “You always were a coldhearted son of a bitch,” Nick said with grudging admiration. “No wonder Lindsay says you have ice water in your veins.”

  “She said that?” Rex asked. “When?”

  But the bidding had commenced. The auctioneer’s raucous patter rang out over the crowd as poor Rob Carter stood on the stage, looking for all the world like a steer being led to slaughter. A whole group of women seemed to be bidding on him, and the atmosphere in the building was growing increasingly frenzied.

  Rex raised his eyebrows, astonished by the sum of money they’d already reached. This plan was apparently going to succeed beyond Lindsay’s wildest dreams.

  He glanced around the arena in search of her slim red figure, hoping to catch her eye and see if she’d smile at him.

  Nobody else in the world had a smile like Lindsay Duncan’s. Her mouth lifted at the corners, dimples flashed in her cheeks and her whole face shone with a luminous, childlike glow.

  But the trim red-clad figure was nowhere to be seen. Rex craned his neck and scanned the crowd again, feeling a touch of alarm.

  What if she didn’t make it back in time to bid on him as they’d planned?

  The thought of going on an enforced date with a stranger, having his neat, well-ordered life invaded by some woman he didn’t even know, was totally repugnant to him. Rex was hugely relieved when a fat woman moved nearer the auction ring, and behind her he saw Lindsay seated on the bleachers.

  She seemed a little more relaxed as the auction proceeded, and was chatting with her uncle, Sam Duncan, who looked lean and handsome in his western suit, string tie and pearl-gray Stetson.

  Rex watched her surreptitiously, feeling that same troubling warmth the sight of her always aroused in him. She looked so pale and fragile, still tense enough that he wanted to take her in his arms and shield her from worry and harm.

  “Something’s wrong with her these days,” Nick said at his elbow, following Rex’s glance. “I noticed it right away.”

  Rex considered Petrocelli’s words, still watching her. “You mean something more than all this worry over the ranch and its finances?”

  “She’s just not the happy-go-lucky girl she used to be.” Nick’s expression lightened for a moment. “Hey Rex, do you remember how much fun we had when we were kids?”

  “I’ll never forget those days,” Rex said. “What do you think might be wrong?” he added, watching Lindsay’s pale face.

  Nick shrugged, his smile fading. “She won’t talk about it. Keeps saying she’s just fine. I assumed she had some kind of unhappy love affair.”

  Rex’s jaw tensed. He hated to think of Lindsay having any kind of love affair, if the truth was known. But the idea of some jerk being cruel to her was more than he could bear.

  He was still troubled when the cadence of the auctioneer’s voice suddenly shifted. The crowd turned to look at him expectantly, and Petrocelli gave him a merciless grin.

  “Well, off to the wars, old buddy,” the Marine told him. “Knock ’em dead.”

  * * *

  TO A CASUAL onlooker, Rex Trowbridge probably appeared suave and comfortable, even arrogant, as he paraded around and played to the crowd, aping the controlled swish and stiff-legged gait of male fashion models.

  But in his heart, Rex was deeply, painfully uncomfortable.

  Ever since the dreadful events of his early boyhood, he’d hated this feeling of being judged and weighed on outward merit alone. More than anything, he craved someone who could look into his soul, beyond the kind of easy confidence he showed the world, and take the time to understand what he was truly like.

  Unfortunately, everybody in his life seemed content with the image. Rex Trowbridge looked and acted like their idea of a successful, high-powered lawyer, and that was enough for them.

  But it hadn’t always been this way.

  For a while in their late teens, after they grew past the rough-and-tumble stage of their childhood, Rex had been certain Lindsay could see further into him than most people. He recalled her tenderness and warmth, her gentle probing questions, and that long-ago blissful feeling of being completely understood.

  To his astonis
hment he felt a lump in his throat, even a brief mist of tears in his eyes.

  Probably the glare of the hot sun overhead, he thought, blinking rapidly as he stared up past the top row of seats.

  Besides, that gentle time with Lindsay had passed soon enough. He’d gone away to college in California and got wholly caught up in sports and the chase for academic distinction. By the time he came back, she could barely give him the time of day.

  Whenever Rex called she seemed to be busy, until finally he’d gotten the hint and stopped calling altogether...

  Resolutely, he shoved the memories out of his mind and concentrated on the auctioneer’s patter, wondering if anybody was bidding against Lindsay.

  To his alarm, he suddenly realized Lindsay wasn’t bidding at all. She was just sitting next to her uncle Sam, tapping an auction brochure against her cheek with a thoughtful, bemused expression while two other women fought to purchase him.

  Rex scanned the crowd and felt a rising panic. One of the bidders was Angelique Parrish, and she looked even more elegant than usual in some kind of white cape and broad-brimmed hat.

  Three years ago Rex had handled Angelique’s divorce and made sure she got a ton of money out of poor Buddy Parrish, her genial but unfaithful ex-husband.

  As a result of the huge settlement, Buddy’s contracting business had failed and the last Rex heard of him he was in Denver, working with a framing crew and trying to start over.

  Rex had always felt guilty about that case. Angie had been so greedy, and both she and her lawyer made a fat meal off Buddy’s broken dreams.

  Near the end of the proceedings Angie had indicated to Rex a few times that she might be interested in more than his legal expertise, but he’d sidestepped her advances carefully.

  Now she was back, and it looked as if she’d spent a good bit of Buddy’s money on liposuction and plastic surgery. Her newly smoothed mask of a face seemed intent on acquiring Rex Trowbridge’s services for, in the auctioneer’s words, “whatever y’all want, ladies. A happy weekend of fun and frolic as unlimited as your little ol’ imagination can devise....”