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“I know her … well, kind of. We met at a seminar the first year I was teaching, and we kept up for a while, then lost touch. I saw her name in the paper a while back, and I tried to contact her, but no answer. The phone number I had wasn’t hers any longer and same with her e-mail.”
“You know what happened?”
“Uh-uh.” Gerri frowned into her empty martini glass. “Not really. But I was surprised about the scandal. It doesn’t make sense. Maris seemed like a real straight arrow. Into her church. Big on her family. She did lose her fiancé in Afghanistan, though, and that could have changed things. She could have flipped.”
“Innocent until proven guilty,” Erin reminded them all as she twisted her wineglass in her fingers and turned to Jules.
“So you’re down because of Shay?” Gerri said skeptically. “It’s not a man thing?”
“Of course not!” Jules shook her head. “Let’s not go there.”
Gerri tapped a fingernail on the lacquer table. “If you ask me, she never got over Cooper.”
“What!” Jules said, nearly choking on a swallow of saki.
“The rodeo guy.” Gerri wrinkled her nose. “He was sexy, but really, he rode Brahman bulls, for God’s sake. What kind of a weird macho thing is that?”
“It’s cool. Sexy. And there’s big money in rodeo if you’re good,” Erin said.
“Yeah, well, there are other ways to earn a living.” Gerri pulled out the small plastic pick and sucked an olive into her mouth.
“You’re just too urban to understand,” Erin said. “The whole cowboy imagery and legend, the loner on his horse, is part of most females’ fantasies.”
“Not this girl,” Gerri said.
Erin lifted a shoulder. “But it is for me, and maybe for Jules—”
“Hey, you don’t have to talk about me as if I’m not here,” Jules cut in. “And I am so done with cowboys. I’m through with anyone remotely associated with the rodeo.”
“Uh-huh, sure. Once a cowboy groupie, always—”
“No way.” Jules shook her head.
“If it’s any consolation, I think Trent gave up the whole bull-riding thing, too.” Erin twirled the stem of her wineglass between her fingers.
Jules looked away, trying like crazy not to express interest when, the truth of the matter was, she still found Cooper Trent a little interesting, still a bit dangerous. There was something about him, a fearlessness that had intrigued her, but she’d tried, oh, God, she’d tried to forget him. To the point that she’d married someone else.
A mistake.
“So he’s not a cowboy anymore. Bully for him.” Gerri smiled at her own little joke as laughter erupted at one of the nearby tables, where two couples were huddled together, each trying to outtalk the others. “So what’s Cooper moved on to? Calf roping? Pig wrestling?”
“Funny,” Erin said, wrinkling her nose. “Last I heard, he finished some training and was hired as a deputy in Colorado somewhere. No, that’s not right. It was Montana, I think. Some little town I never heard of … not Great Falls, but something very similar.” She shrugged. “Grizzly Falls, maybe? Not that it matters.”
“A cop? Trent’s a cop?” Jules said, disbelieving.
“Or was … I’m not sure. I lost touch. I could ask my brother if you’re interested.”
“I’m not!” Jules was firm.
“Then I guess you haven’t talked to him since the two of you broke up?”
“Not once.”
“In five years?” Gerri was surprised. “Why not?”
“No reason.” What she and Trent had shared was ancient history. So why was it that she still had dreams about him? Erotic dreams that left her breathless and sweating—that is, when she wasn’t experiencing the recurring nightmare, that horrid, disturbing dream of her father’s murder.
“She’s moved on,” Gerri said, but Erin didn’t seem convinced.
