Cowboy Seeks Perfect Wife

“Getting ready for bed.” She took off the other leg warmer, revealing a tiny scar on her left knee. Grabbing the hem of her sweater, she pulled it up far enough to expose her midriff.

“You won’t take your clothes off in front of me.”

“Oh, yes, I will.” Sidonie grinned. Modesty was one virtue a dancer lost early. She’d undressed onstage, offstage and backstage, in crowded, communal dressing rooms for years. She gave him a pitying look. “Give it up, McMasters. Me and the no-name dog are staying.”

She pulled the sweater over her head. When she could see again, the door was closing. Slowly.

“Good night, Mr. McMasters,” she cooed sweetly.

The door opened a crack and she could see one eye flashing balefully. “All right! One night. You can stay here one night. But that’s it. Tomorrow you’re finding someplace else. Understand?”

“You don’t have to shout,” she yelled.

“I never shout,” he yelled back, slamming the door shut.

Rafe stared at the bedroom door he’d run for, the minute Sidonie started her striptease. Except she hadn’t been teasing. She’d been playing to win, and she had succeeded. She was sleeping in his house. Only for one night, sure, but that was bound to be one night too many. If anyone found out, and odds were that someone would, the good people of Proffit County would have a new episode to add to the saga of Rafe McMasters. They’d talk and talk about him and the redheaded temptress who now sat triumphantly behind the closed bedroom door.

They’d think he hadn’t changed at all.

Tugging his tie from around his neck, Rafe paused at the door to his room. He’d been getting ready for bed himself when he’d heard someone drive up. He glanced at his watch. That was only half an hour ago. He’d been tired, ready for sleep, until she’d shown up and attacked him.

Now he was wide-awake. With a disgusted groan he turned on his bare heel and walked through the house to the front room. Heading for the window, he pulled the curtains back and looked up the hill opposite the house. He could see the dark outline of his house silhouetted against the night sky.

A fierce sense of pride filled him. He’d done it! It had taken fifteen long years, countless hours of hard work and a little luck, but he was finally back where he belonged. The land had been the first step. No one in his family had ever owned his own land. Beginning with his great-grandfather, the first McMasters to settle in Proffit County, the men in his family had worked for other men all their lives. Rafe had vowed to change that, and he was well on his way to succeeding.

Over the years he’d bought the land, a few acres at a time. Now he owned a good part of the county— enough land to challenge Emmet Clancy for the title of biggest rancher in the area. But that was only the first step in executing his lifelong plan. Rafe glanced at his house on the hill again. In a few months he’d be living in the biggest and best house in the county. After that he needed only one thing to reach his goal. A wife.

For years Rafe had planned on becoming a rancher, a respected member of the community, marrying a woman who knew what it meant to be a rancher’s wife. He’d almost realized his goal years ago, when Cathy Sue Clancy had agreed to marry him, but then—

With a muttered oath Rafe stopped that line of thought. No guilt, no regrets. He’d find another woman, someone with the all the right qualities. Together they would raise a family and build a solid, respectable life together. His mouth curved in a sardonic smile. He could kiss that part of his plan goodbye, unless he could get Sidonie out of the house, and fast. No self-respecting woman—no lady—would keep company with a man living with a chorus girl.

He knew all about Sidonie. People still talked about her and her mother, the Las Vegas showgirl Buck had married thirty years ago. Almost as much as they talked about him.

Sidonie could call herself a dancer all she wanted to, but he knew darn well she only danced in the chorus. That made her a chorus girl. A tightening in his loins forced him to admit Sidonie was well endowed with all the talent needed for that job—long legs, sensuous curves and clear blue eyes filled with seductive promises. If he wasn’t looking to settle down, she’d be exactly the kind of woman he’d enjoy getting to know—in the Biblical sense. But he’d sown all his wild oats years ago. No more flings for him, no matter how tempting his unwelcome guest.

Even if his feet weren’t firmly set on the road to respectability, a man would think twice before getting involved with someone like Sidonie. Look what a dancing girl had done to Buck Saddler. Broken his heart, that’s what. After only a few years of being a rancher’s wife, Belle had left him for the bright lights of Broadway, taking Sidonie with her. After that, they hadn’t stayed put in any one place for long.

Buck had shown him postcards and playbills from every major and not so major American city, and more than a few European ones. Belle and Sidonie had traveled all over the world. Rafe suppressed the sudden twinge of envy caused by visions of London and Paris. Looking up the hill at his house, he concentrated hard on why he’d come back to Proffit County. He’d seen some of the world himself—mostly corporate boardrooms and luxury hotels, now that he thought about it. But there would be time to travel again, once he had his plan fully realized.

First he had to get rid of Sidonie.

His reputation would have sent any other female running for cover, but Sidonie obviously didn’t know anything about him. The one time his notoriety might have been of some use, he had to come up against a woman who’d never heard the stories about his wild and woolly youth She hadn’t run. She’d kneed him.

He should have grabbed her by the scruff of her shapely neck and thrown her out the door. He would have, too, if her surprise attack hadn’t taken him out of the match.

By the time he’d recovered, his brain had registered several important facts about her. One, Sidonie Saddler was the daughter of the best friend he’d ever had in Proffit County. Two, she was injured.

And three, she could give a ninety-year-old eunuch erotic dreams.

Chapter Two

Sidonie was awakened by a cold nose and a whine. She got up and let the dog out the front door, then looked for her reluctant host. Rafe McMasters was nowhere to be found but he’d left an envelope addressed to her on the kitchen table. It contained a check for a thousand dollars and a brief note. “Happy house hunting.” He’d signed it “McMasters.”

Sidonie tore up the note, but she folded the check and put it in her handbag. Lease money went to Judge Longstreet for deposit into her trust account. After she fed the dog a can of chili she found in the pantry, Sidonie returned to her bedroom.

Her single suitcase rule didn’t allow for many clothes, so her wardrobe consisted mostly of rehearsal outfits—leotards, tights, shorts and slacks. She unpacked, hanging her colorful clothes—she favored primary colors over pastels—in her old closet. While stashing her underwear in the dresser, she found several pairs of faded jeans folded in the bottom drawer, along with a couple of Western shirts. Neither her old clothes nor her current wardrobe coordinated with the black plastic brace.

The brace was standing in the corner of her bedroom. She left it there. She had to go to town, and she couldn’t wear the hateful thing when she drove. She topped a chrome yellow leotard and matching tights with a turquoise wraparound skirt that ended a few inches above her knees. As soon as she’d dressed, she returned to the kitchen.

“Come on, pup.” The small dog licked the last of the chili from its mouth and followed Sidonie to the pickup.

Once they were on their way, Sidonie looked at the dog. “The fuddy-duddy was right about one thing. You need a name.” Scratching the dog behind the ear, she thought for a moment. “Gypsy. You’re a gypsy, like me. That’s what I’ll call you.”

She dropped Gypsy off at the vet’s, then headed for the Proffit County Courthouse and Judge Tyler Longstreet’s courtroom.

“Well, well, well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes!” Judge Longstreet enveloped Sidonie in a bear hug and led her into his chambers. “When you walked in, all bright and shiny like a new penny, I couldn’t believe it. You’re really here.” He hugged her again, then held her away from him. “How’s the knee?”

“Getting better.”

“When did you get in? Did you get my message?”

“Late last night. What message?”

“I called the hotel to tell you not to go home. You have a tenant, remember? Where did you stay last night? With Maggie and the doc?”

“No. I haven’t seen Maggie yet. Tenant. That’s what I want to talk to you about. Judge.” She paused for dramatic effect. “There’s a man in my house.”

“I know that. Isn’t that what we’ve been talking about? Your tenant, Rafe McMasters. He leased the place a few months back.”

“I only lease the land.”

“You didn’t read the last lease before you signed it, did you?” He shook his head. “Sidonie, girl, how many times have I told you—”

“Always read before you sign. I know. But the leases have always been the same, up until this one. Why did you lease the house?”

“Didn’t you see the rent he’s paying? Your trust account is pretty healthy, even after taking out that chunk for your medical bills, but you can’t touch the principal until you’re thirty. Not for everyday living expenses, only for emergencies. You won’t be thirty for two more years. You’re going to need that extra .money for food and rent and other necessities, while you figure out a new way to earn a living.”

“I’ll earn a living the same way I always have— dancing.”

The judge frowned. “Not according to what the doctors told me. They said—”

“Never mind what they said. I know more about what my body can do than any doctor. I’m going to be fine. All I need is a place to relax and time to get back in shape.”

Tyler looked like he wanted to argue with her, but instead he asked, “Where did you stay last night? You never said.”

“I stayed at home, but I had to fight that man tooth and nail to do it. He’s the most—”

The judge’s mouth dropped open. “You stayed the night with Rafe McMasters? You got into a fight with him?”

“I never laid a hand on him.” A knee but not a hand. Judge Longstreet didn’t need to know about that. “What’s wrong? You look shocked.”

“I’m not shocked. Surprised, maybe. You…and Rafe McMasters. Oh, my.”

He still looked shocked to Sidonie. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Judge. Believe me, we didn’t make mad, passionate love on the kitchen table.”

“I didn’t think you did. I know you and Rafe wouldn’t…”

He looked embarrassed. Sidonie grinned. The judge had always been more naive than a man his age, in his profession, should be. “You’re right about that. We definitely wouldn’t. He’s not my type.” She wasn’t sure what her type was, but arrogant, self-righteous fuddy-duddies didn’t even make it to the bottom of her list. Not even if they had bodies to die for.

Judge Longstreet’s bushy white eyebrows came together in a puzzled frown. Clearing his throat, he continued. “Harrumph. I’d have thought a wealthy, handsome man was almost any woman’s type.” His brow smoothed. “But you’re smarter than most women, aren’t you? What have you learned about McMasters?”

“That he’s living in my house and he looks down his nose at dancers. What else should I know about him?”

The judge shot her a disappointed look. “That’s all?”

Rafe had put every nerve ending she had on red alert every time he’d touched her, but she wasn’t going to tell that to Judge Longstreet. She shook her head.

“Nothing else? Too bad. Rafe McMasters’s homecoming has been the main topic of conversation around here for weeks. Of course, now that you’ve shown up, there will be something new to talk about. But the two of you together—oh, my. Him, the prodigal son come home, and you, looking just like your mother. All big, blue eyes and long, long legs…” Tyler’s eyes glazed over momentarily, then he caught himself. “Harrumph. That is to say, you two will be a major topic of conversation around these parts.”

“That’s what he said. But why?”

“He left town under something of a cloud fifteen years ago. No one’s heard from him since. Then he turns up out of the blue three months ago, holding title to half the county. Turns out he’d been buying up land here in Proffit County for years, through a nominee. But we still don’t know where he was all those years, or what he’s been up to.”

“Okay, I can see how people might find that a little bit interesting, but why would they talk about me?”

“You know how the town’s always been fascinated by your mother and you. You two are the only show business folks ever to come from Cache.”

“We’re not exactly famous, either one of us. Mom never made it out of the chorus line until she gave up dancing and became a choreographer. Neither have I.”

“You’re the closest thing to famous around these parts. Especially after that video you were in with that rock star—what’s his name?”

“Duke Devlin. I do well enough for my purposes, but I’m a long way from being a star.” Sidonie shrugged. “But if people find me and the stuffed shirt fascinating, they can talk about us all they want.”

“Stuffed shirt? That’s how you see him?”

She nodded warily. “Don’t you?”

“Not hardly. Rafe McMasters was the roughest, toughest cowboy in Proffit County when he was a young man. Doing real well on the rodeo circuit, he was. But he was always in trouble, right up to and including the day he left town. Now he’s back, throwing money around like it was water. How did he make his fortune? Answer me that, if you can.”

Ignoring the question, which was obviously rhetorical, Sidonie concentrated on the image the judge’s words conjured up—Rafe McMasters in tight jeans and cowboy boots, a Western shirt straining to cover his muscled chest…Sidonie blinked and the image was gone.

“Cowboy? Rough and tough? You can’t mean Mr. Prude and Prejudice. Judge, the man wears a three-piece suit to bed. Did you say he left town under a cloud? What on earth did he do?”

“Never you mind. You get out of here and find a place to stay. I’d let you stay with me, but a pretty young thing like you living with an old bachelor like me would cause tongues to wag, too. Why don’t you go see the widow Harris? She runs a real respectable boardinghouse.”

“I’m beginning to remember why Mom left here. She always told me people in Cache were much too concerned with everyone else’s business.” Sidonie walked around the desk and placed a kiss on the judge’s receding hairline. “I’m staying at my place.”

“You can’t stay there. Not as long as Rafe is in residence.”

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. How do we get him out of my house?”

“He’ll be out in three months. That’s when the lease is up.”

“Can’t we break it, somehow?”

“I drew it up. You signed it. It’s unbreakable.”

Sidonie left the judge’s chambers dismayed, but far from discouraged. She’d find a way to stay on her land, in her house, and she knew just who to go to for help. She drove to the home of her best friend in Cache, Maggie Malone Parker.

“Sidonie!” Maggie hugged her so hard she thought her ribs might snap. “When did you get here? I thought you weren’t coming for another week or two. Your medical files haven’t even gotten here yet.”

“I broke out of the rehab center. I couldn’t take it any longer. I wanted to come home.” Sidonie swallowed the lump in her throat and hugged Maggie back.

Holding her friend at arm’s length, she gave her a searching look. Maggie Parker was a petite…blonde. This week. She had a habit of changing her hair color every few months. Maggie claimed it was the only adventurous thing she ever did, but Sidonie knew better. They’d always been equally talented when it came to cooking up schemes.

“Aren’t you supposed to be wearing a brace? And should you be driving? Where did you get that cute little truck?”

Laughing, Sidonie let Maggie lead her into the cozy cottage. “Yes, probably not and Dallas. I went straight from the airport to the dealership.”

“You bought it? Does that mean you’re home for good?”

“No. No.” Sidonie frowned. Trust Maggie to figure out right away that it didn’t make sense for her to buy a pickup. Once she had a job and was back on the road again, she’d have to sell it. “I know I should have rented a car, but I wasn’t sure how long I’d be here. And I thought I’d stay in Texas for a while— there are lots of opportunities for dancers, at least in the summer. The State Fair musicals, Casa Mañana in Fort Worth…” She trailed off. She’d always been able to read Maggie like a book. Now she was reading disbelief. “I am going to dance again, Maggie,” Sidonie said softly.

Another fierce hug. “Of course you are, sweetie. When did you get in? Just now?”

“No, late last night.”

Confusion showed on Maggie’s face. “Last night? Where did you stay? Not at that tacky motel at the edge of town.”

She shook her head. “At home, of course.”

Maggie’s eyes widened. “You spent the night with Rafe McMasters?”

“Good grief! Does the whole town know he’s living in my house?”

Nodding her head vigorously, Maggie pushed Sidonie in the direction of the kitchen. “Yes, indeed. Everyone knows Rafe is staying at the Saddler home place. You spent the night with him?”

“You make it sound like we slept together. We weren’t even in the same room, Maggie. Only under the same roof.”

Maggie had the grace to blush. “Well, of course you didn’t sleep with him. You just met. But you’ve got to tell me everything. Where’s he been all these years? Why did he come back, do you know?” Maggie was practically drooling.

“I have no idea. We spent our time together exchanging insults, not life stories,” Sidonie said dryly. “First Judge Longstreet and now you. What is so intriguing about Rafe McMasters and his homecoming?”

Maggie sighed. “I’ve heard stories about him ever since I was” knee-high to a grasshopper. The man’s a legend. But no one’s seen or heard from him for fifteen years—not since he jilted Cathy Sue and ran off with that exotic dancer.”

Sidonie’s jaw dropped. “A stripper? He ran off with a stripper?”

“Practically left poor Cathy Sue waiting at the altar. Although I shouldn’t call her poor. Her daddy’s the richest man in Proffit County. Or he was, until Rafe came back. Folks are saying he’s got more money than Emmet Clancy ever thought about.”

“I don’t know who or what you’re talking about.”

“No, that’s right, you wouldn’t. Cathy and Rafe were in high school together—eight or nine years ahead of us. It started out as a real romantic love story—Cathy Sue, the daughter of the biggest rancher in the county, and Rafe, the son of one of his cowhands. Rafe wasn’t a hand, though. He was on his way to being a championship rodeo cowboy. That’s when Cathy Sue and he got together.”

Maggie sighed dreamily. “For a while, it looked like they would live happily ever after. Mr. Clancy eventually came around and gave his blessing to the engagement. A big church wedding was in the works—I know because one of my cousins was going to be a bridesmaid. And then, boom, it was all over. Rafe left town and never came back.”

“With a stripper?”

“Well, that part of the story’s a little fuzzy. Some of the men in town saw Rafe a few months later in a honky-tonk in Fort Worth. He was with a woman a few of them claimed they’d seen a whole lot of— although, when push came to shove, none of them would actually admit they’d been to a burlesque show.”

“I don’t think it’s true. I can’t see him running off with a dancer.”

“Why not?”

“The way he looked at me after I told him I dance for a living—like I just crawled out from under a rock.”

“Get out of here! I never saw a man look at you with anything but lusty admiration.”

“Well, Rafe McMasters does not admire me, and the feeling is mutual. I still don’t see why Rafe’s a legend if all he did was break up with his girlfriend. Did Cathy Sue go into a decline and die of a broken heart?”

“Not hardly. Getting jilted by Rafe was the only bad thing that ever happened to Cathy Sue, and she recovered from that blow pretty fast. She married her dad’s foreman—J. D. Nicholls—a few months later.”

“Well then, how did he get his reputation?”

“Rafe McMasters is a mystery. If he was fooling around with the exotic dancer, where did he meet her? He’d been in Cache for months, recovering from an injury. If he wasn’t cheating on Cathy Sue, why did he leave her? She never would say. Our sweet Cathy Sue’s too much of a lady to air her dirty linen in public.”

“Do I detect a hint of sarcasm? Don’t you like Cathy Sue?”

“Not much. She’s always been there for me and every other female in Proffit County to compare ourselves to—the ideal Texas lady, a cross between a Southern belle and a pioneer woman. Trust me, we all suffer by comparison.”

Chuckling, Sidonie asked, “And just what makes her so special?”

“Everyone thinks Cathy Sue is the ideal homemaker, the perfect wife and mother—with the possible exception of J.D. and Darcy, her husband and daughter. They are the ones who actually have to live up to her impossibly high standards. I swear, living in the same town with her is like living next door to Martha Stewart.”

“Now, that is interesting. Why would Rafe dump someone like her? Based on our brief time together, I’d say a female paragon is exactly his type.” Why that should give Sidonie a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, she couldn’t begin to fathom. She sniffed dismissively. “Too bad she’s married. If she were still available, they could reconcile. Then he could move in with her and leave my house to me.”

“Some folks do think Cathy Sue is the reason he’s come back. Including Cathy Sue, for one. Oh, she doesn’t say so, just gets a wistful, faraway look in her eyes whenever his name is mentioned. J.D.’s not too happy, either. Probably afraid he’s not up to the competition if Rafe really does make a play for his wife. After all, Rafe has his own ranch now, the biggest in the county from what I hear. J.D.’s still only the foreman at the Clancy spread. I have a feeling that if he wanted to, Rafe could get Cathy Sue with one crook of his little finger.”

“He wouldn’t do that.” Somehow she’d gotten the definite impression that, no matter how stuffy he was, Rafe McMasters was an honorable man. Not the kind to chase atter a married woman.

“You’re probably right. I doubt Rafe has suddenly decided he made a mistake all those years ago. He’ll find someone else to marry.”

“What makes you think he’s going to marry anyone?”

“That huge house he’s building. It’s much too big for one man. He must be planning on starting a family. Wouldn’t it be great if he found a woman even more perfect than Cathy Sue? It would be refreshing to see the blue ribbons at the Proffit County Fair on something she didn’t make.”

“Cathy Sue beats out your peach cobbler?”

Maggie nodded. “Every damn year.”

Sidonie patted Maggie on the shoulder. “All right. Here’s the plan. We’ll shoot her. Where does this Cathy Sue person live?”

Maggie giggled. “That’s going too far, even for us. And I have to admit, the talk about him and Cathy Sue is pure speculation. And that’s only one story. Some folks think he’s back to get even with J.D., the theory being that if J.D. hadn’t snapped Cathy Sue up so fast, she would have waited for Rafe. Other people think Rafe wants to ruin Emmet.”

“Why would he want to do that?”

“All kinds of reasons, most of which are kind of vague. He’s a real mystery.”

“Well, someone else can solve him. I’ve got other things to do. Like hug my goddaughter. Where is she?”

“Elizabeth’s at school of course. She’s so excited about you coming home. She’s discovered ballet on the learning channel and she wants dance lessons.”