CHAPTER ONE
WHEN SHE’D FIRST heard about the plan, Blair Townsend had thought a bachelor auction was a desperate and probably futile scheme to save the financially strapped Lost Springs Ranch for Boys. A bachelor auction? Were they joking? What made these people think they could possibly raise a significant sum of money by parading a group of former ranch residents in front of a bunch of man-hungry women? Selling the guys off like...like prize bulls?
Blair had pessimistically predicted that there would be more men up for auction than there would be women to bid on them. And as for the media coverage they were hoping for...she’d thought they would be lucky to get a mention in the Lightning Creek Leader.
Now, as she gazed in awe at the TV news vans and reporters crowding the ranch grounds, she was perfectly willing to admit that she had been wrong.
She didn’t know how they had done it, but somehow ranch owner Lindsay Duncan and director Rex Trowbridge had pulled off an amazing feat. They had a sizable group of gorgeous bachelors, a stadium full of enthusiastic bidders and a whole herd of reporters there to cover the festivities. The public relations benefits alone should go a long way toward helping Lindsay save her ranch—and the lost young boys who needed it.
Blair groaned at the thought of lost young boys. That particular problem hit just a bit too close to home at the moment. A group of boys dashed past her, shouting, laughing, their destination the peeled-log forts and jungle gyms that made up the recently renovated playground. Though somewhat rowdy, they looked as though they were having a great time. It hadn’t occurred to her that so many youngsters would be in attendance at a charity bachelor auction. Now she wondered why she hadn’t expected it—this was, after all, a boys’ ranch.
Maybe she should have brought Jeffrey. It might have been good for him to socialize with other children today. And yet...did she really want him spending time with the residents of Lost Springs? Wasn’t he difficult and rebellious enough without the influence of this group of troubled boys? She’d spent a lot of time lately worrying that if things didn’t improve soon, Jeffrey was going to be a prime candidate for a residential program for boys who were headed for serious problems.
She put a hand to the back of her neck, squeezing the muscle that had tightened there—something that had been happening with uncomfortable regularity since her ten-year-old nephew had moved in with her six months ago. A familiar burning sensation in her stomach made her reach into the pocket of her cream-colored cardigan for a roll of antacids. She popped a couple in her mouth and chewed grimly. The chalky taste made her grimace.
Wanting something to wash away the residue, she looked toward the crowded pavilion where food and drinks were being sold to an eager throng of customers. The tantalizing, smoky smell of barbecue wafted toward her, making her lick her lips. She had only come to observe the activities today, not to participate in them, but she could at least contribute to the cause by purchasing a soft drink and maybe a hot dog. She would love to indulge in a spicy barbecue sandwich, but she was afraid that would only intensify her heartburn.
Barely thirty, she thought ruefully, and she had to eat like a little old lady. And to think she’d moved to Lightning Creek, Wyoming, to reduce the stress in her life! But that had been before she’d become responsible for Jeffrey.
Several acquaintances greeted her as she approached the barbecue pavilion, people she had met during the year since she’d moved to the area from Chicago to take over her uncle’s law practice. Lindsay Duncan, the ranch owner and one of Blair’s clients, rushed by with a clipboard in her hand and a slightly harried look on her face. She gave Blair a distracted smile; Blair sent her a bracing thumbs-up in return, knowing Lindsay didn’t have time for conversation just then.
Blair really hoped this gamble would pay off. The ranch had been in Lindsay’s family for fifty years. Innumerable boys had been housed here, a significant number of them going on to lead successful, productive lives rather than the bleak, dead-end futures they’d faced prior to being assigned to the Lost Springs Ranch. Some had been orphans, some children whose parents had been unable or unwilling to provide for them, others had been deemed incorrigible and had been sent here as a last resort before reform school or jail, but all had been given the finest of care and the best of opportunities. Many had taken advantage of the education and counseling they’d received to turn their lives around. Blair knew that the owners and staff of the ranch grieved over every boy who could not or would not be helped.
That thought made the back of her neck tighten again. She was determined that her brother’s son would not become one of the sad statistics.
Deciding to forgo the hot dog, she ordered a diet soda from one of the volunteers running the concession booth, a woman whose fairly amiable divorce had been one of Blair’s first cases in Lightning Creek. “There you go, hon,” fifty-something Arnette Gibbs said as she exchanged a cup of soda for Blair’s dollar bill. “Enjoy.”
“Thank you, Arnette. Looks like business is booming.”
The woman’s plump face beamed. “They’re keeping us hopping, that’s for sure. My goodness, would you look at that crowd gathered around Shane Daniels! If he don’t stop signing autographs, he’ll never get to the arena in time for the auction.”
Following the direction of the older woman’s gaze, Blair frowned. “Who is he? A singer? An actor?”
Arnette blinked in surprise that Blair hadn’t recognized the name. “Honey, he’s a rodeo champion. One of the best bull riders the circuit has ever seen.”
“Oh.” Blair’s frown deepened as she studied the outright idolatry on the faces of the boys crowding around the handsome cowboy. A bull rider? Hardly the type of role model she would choose for her nephew.
“The auction’s about to get started,” Arnette announced, pointing toward the rapidly filling arena. “You better get over there before all the good ones are gone.”
Blair’s eyebrows rose. “I didn’t come to buy a man. I’m only here to support the fund-raiser.”