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Oblivious to their conversation, Tara continued her study of the portrait. “Do you realize, Laura, that if your hair was styled like hers, you would look identical?”
“You know, you could be right.” Boone’s voice intruded as he
moved to Laura’s side.
As if prompted by Tara’s remark, he tunneled a hand under her hair and lifted its loose length up and away from her face, holding it in a rough semblance of the ringletted style worn by the woman in the painting.
“You really could be her double, Laura,” Boone stated.
“I could, couldn’t I?” Her chin came up a little higher, echoing the proud tilt the artist had captured on canvas.
Max Rutledge rolled his chair forward to join them. “How much is that painting worth, Sebastian?”
His shoulders lifted in a vague shrug. “The work is by an obscure artist, so its value is mainly sentimental.”
“Name your price and I’ll pay it,” Max stated, making it clear he was accustomed to getting what he wanted.
Sebastian deflected the offer with a smooth smile. “That is extremely generous of you, but as I said, its value is sentimental. I wouldn’t consider taking advantage of a guest in such a manner.”
“I’m not going to try to talk you into it. But the offer stands if you should change your mind in the future,” Max replied, choosing not to make an issue of it, for the time being at least. Instead he shifted his attention to Boone and Laura. “I rather fancy the idea of that painting hanging above the fireplace in our living room back home, don’t you, Boone? ’Course I’d gladly settle for having the real McCoy instead.”
Laura shook her head at him in mock exasperation. “Max, I know you are used to controlling everything. But you remind me of a trick horse in those old western movies, always nudging the cowboy into the girl’s arms. Stop nudging.”
“What’s wrong with helping things along a little?” Max argued. “After all, you’re the one who claimed Boone was your hero.”
“He is my hero.” Laura slanted Boone a look that was half-teasing and half-serious.
“Your hero?” Sebastian’s eyebrow arched in sharp challenge.
His reaction briefly startled her, then realization dawned. “Of course, you don’t know anything about the incident last night,” she said and proceeded to tell both Sebastian and his sister about the attempted theft of her casino winnings that Boone had thwarted.
When she finished, Helen gazed at Boone with frank admiration. “How astute of you to notice what was going on and catch the man in the act. He must have been desperate to escape, yet you managed to subdue him. How very brave of you.”
“I didn’t do anything that someone else wouldn’t have done in my place,” Boone stated with an easy modesty.
“I disagree,” Helen protested with vigor. “Most of the men I know would never have observed the theft in process. And the few who might have noticed would likely have shouted an alarm. I can’t think of any who would have actually struggled with the thief, let alone come out the victor. Have you had training for such situations? In the armed forces, perhaps?”
“Most men raised in Texas have found themselves in a fight or two somewhere along the line. That’s just the way it is.” His big shoulders lifted in a dismissive shrug.
“That’s one thing I could always say about Boone—he’s handy with his fists,” Max declared, rearing back his head to gaze up at his son with approval. “He wasn’t much more than fifteen when one of the ranch hands started hazing him. Boone didn’t take it too kindly and proceeded to make his feelings known. Needless to say, that cowboy got his walking papers—along with a busted nose and a black eye. You didn’t suffer anything worse than a cut lip, did you, Boone?”
“That and a bruise or two,” Boone replied. “But that was a long time ago.”
“How fascinating,” Helen murmured, all her attention centered on Boone. “Do forgive me for being so curious, but I can’t help wondering what prompted you to be suspicious. Casinos are often crowded. It isn’t at all uncommon to be jostled by another patron.”
Watching her, Sebastian couldn’t help smiling to himself. Rare was the person who didn’t enjoy talking about himself, and his sister had a natural flair for encouraging an individual to do just that.
With Boone otherwise occupied by Helen, his way was now clear with Laura. He took advantage of it. “I am relieved to learn that you are none the worse for your adventurous evening.” He kept his voice low, strictly for Laura’s hearing, to avoid attracting the attention of others to their conversation.
“Thanks to my knight coming to my rescue,” Laura replied easily, her glance centering on Boone.
Sebastian flicked a glance at his rival. “I can’t say that his armor is all that shiny.”
She laughed softly. “I don’t know of many cowboys who are polished.”
“The son of Max Rutledge is a bit more than a cowboy,” he corrected dryly.
“They’re both cut from the same cloth, and it’s a rough one,” Laura stated with the certainty of one who had been born and raised with their kind.
