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“I know you were. You are, I mean. I saw you ride at the rodeo queen competition, remember?”
She smiled. “That’s right. Judy let me use her horse. She was a beauty. But anyway, the money was good. I can’t lie.”
“Yes, I’m sure it was.”
She shifted her shoulders, hoping he’d believe what she was going to say. “But I swear, Harper, I never did any of that other stuff. I only stripped.”
“I believe you.” He took her hand and caressed her palm. “What happened with your mom? Why did she kick you out?”
“She was a drunk. She couldn’t afford both me and her booze. The booze won.”
“And your father?”
“Never knew him. He’s supposedly a bronc buster named Morgan Cross. His name’s on my birth certificate, but I’ve never met him. He wasn’t part of my life. I’m not sure my mother ever told him about me. In fact, I’ve wondered on more than one occasion if she just made the name up.”
Harper’s eyes widened. “I don’t think she made up that name.”
“Why do you say that?” A warm ray of hope shot through her veins. “Do you know him? I never could find anything on the net about him.”
“Not by that name, you wouldn’t. But I assure you he does exist. He goes by the name Thunder Morgan. He retired a few years ago.”
“Well, he must have brown eyes then. My mother’s are ice blue. She’s got the typical Scandinavian coloring. So do I, except for these darn eyes.”
“I think he has brown eyes, but I never really paid much attention. His hair’s a sandy blond. He and my father were friends. He’d come by the ranch every so often, usually during the rodeo. He hasn’t been around for a few years, but he showed up at my father’s memorial service.”
“I was at your father’s service!”
“I know. Freaky, huh? He was only at the church though. He didn’t come back to the house. He’s a good man, Amber. I doubt he knew he had a daughter. If he had, he would have been a part of your life.”
“Is he married?”
“Nope. Never married that I know of. He was on the rodeo circuit forever. Not much of a life for a family.”
“A better life than living with a drunk, I’d bet.”
“Yeah, maybe. Hey, that’s why you never drink more than two drinks, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, pretty much. I’ve had a few bad experiences with alcohol, so now I keep to my limit. I figure alcoholism is in my genes. I’m not giving it any help.”
He smiled and twirled one finger through a lock of her hair. “That’s smart.”
“Even when I was at Rachel’s, I never did the booze or drugs like the other girls did.”
“You’re very strong.”
She squirmed, embarrassed by his near reverence. She was so not worthy of it. “Don’t put any halos on me. It’s not like I never got drunk before. I did. Twice to be exact. The first time I blacked out and lost several hours. Scared the hell out of me. You’d think it would have scared me enough never to do it again, but I was young and stupid.”
“We all are, baby. There’s not a one of us who doesn’t do something stupid when we’re eighteen.”
She smiled. What a nice guy he was. “The second time I ended up in bed with a stranger. Thank goodness he turned out to be a nice guy. That’s when I got scared straight and decided not to tempt fate. No more than two drinks at a time. Like I said, alcoholism is probably in my genes.”
“I still say you’re strong.”
“Not strong enough. If I were, I’d never have ended up at Rachel’s.”
Tears filmed over her eyes. Why in hell was she talking to Harper Bay about this stuff? And how did he know her father? Crazy. Just crazy.
“I’m sure you did the best you could. Stripping may not be the classiest job out there, but it’s an honest living. As long as there are men in the world, there will be a market for beautiful women to take their clothes off.”
