Killer Cowboy Charm. Vicki Thompson Lewis

truth she did have a real crush on cowboy types. Her dad had tuned in everything Western on TV, from reruns of Gunsmoke to all the Clint Eastwood spaghetti Westerns, and with only one TV set in the house, she’d watched with him. The heroes had seemed exotic and so removed from her life that they’d become a secret fantasy.

      “Unfortunately, turns out this cowboy was gay.”

      “You see? See what I mean? Taken or gay. At least that’s the way it seems in New York.” Meg decided to ad-lib. “Maybe I need to go out West and find myself a rope-twirling, spur-jingling, heterosexual-to-the-core cowboy.”

      Mel shook his perfectly coifed head. “No such thing anymore. That’s all Hollywood stuff.”

      “I don’t believe it. I’ll bet the West is still chock-full of sexy cowboys, swaggering around in snug denim with their thumbs hooked through their belt loops. Yum.”

      “I’m afraid that dream cowboy is a myth,” Mel said. “But speaking of myths and cowboys, we have the perfect guest today. Lord of the Rings and Hidalgo star Viggo Mortensen is here to talk about his next project. Now there’s a fantasy cowboy for you, Meg. I assume you saw Viggo in Hidalgo?”

      “Six times.”

      “Thought so. We also have Snoop Dogg paying us a long-overdue visit, plus we’ve discovered a magician who’s performing street shows all over town. If you haven’t seen him yet, he’ll truly astound you. We’ll be back, right after this.”

      The moment the commercial break started, Sharon hurried over clutching her earphones to her head as if she couldn’t believe the info coming through them. “You guys, the phones are lighting up! Everyone wants to see Meg go out West and look for her cowboy!”

      Meg laughed. “Oh, sure, that’s gonna happen. It was just a joke. I’ve never been out West, and I have no intention of—”

      “Think again,” Sharon said. “We need a shot in the arm, and this could be it!”

      “You know, it’s not a bad idea,” Mel said. “Not bad at all.”

      “It’s a great idea!” Sharon glowed with excitement. “How about this—we call it the search for the Hottest Cowboy in the West.”

      Mel nodded. “I like it already.”

      Meg wasn’t liking it at all. Leaving the studio was a bad idea. Temporary replacements could become permanent fixtures if you left. “I don’t know about this, Sharon. I think we should consider it more carefully.”

      “We’ll iron out the details when we have more time, but I’m getting goose bumps, which means this is a dynamite concept. I can see you going remote with Jamie. You’ll find candidates, and then we bring them on the show and the audience votes for the winner. We’ll have a big cash prize and tons of promo. Is that awesome, or what?”

      Meg didn’t hear much besides the phrase going remote. “But I can’t leave the show to run around looking for cowboys.”

      “Sure you can,” Mel said. “For a few days. Shar’s right. This could be exactly what we need to boost the ratings.”

      “But who would you get to co-host while I’m gone?” But she already knew. Mona Swift. She’d been the runner-up for the job a year ago, and she was hovering like a vulture waiting for Meg to fail. Mona even had the right first initial to slide right into the co-host’s chair. Before Meg could blink, it would be Mona and Mel in the Morning.

      “We’d get Mona,” Shar said. “I’m sure she’d be happy to fill in for a little while.”

      No kidding. She’d be shickled titless to take my job away permanently. “Listen, this will cost way too much money. Food, lodging—”

      “No, it won’t,” Mel said. “We’ll get ranches to donate space to hold the competition. If we set it up alphabetically, we could even start with George’s ranch in Arizona. He’d love the publicity.”

      Meg made one last appeal, focusing desperately on Mel. “It’ll really shake up the routine. You know how you hate change.”

      “Yeah, I hate change, but I hate sagging ratings worse. The fact is, I agree totally with Sharon on this. You need to go out there, Meg.”

      And that, Meg knew, was the end of that. Mel had spoken.

      “ME AND MY big freakin’ mouth!” Meg stared out the window of the communications van she and Jamie had rented from an affiliate in Phoenix. They were now somewhere south of Tucson, going to George’s ranch. George, multi-millionaire and poker buddy of Mel, had bought the place as an investment and was sitting on it waiting for prices to go up. He rarely visited. Meg could understand why.

      Jamie sighed and shook his head. “Are you gonna bitch for the entire two weeks? Because I can match you bitch for bitch. Alison and I are in a very tricky stage of our relationship. Anything could happen while I’m gone.”

      “I know, I know. But which is more important, Alison giving in to the temptation to date somebody else, or Mona taking permanent possession of my co-host chair? I mean, you could make a play to get Alison back. I’m sure you could get Alison back.” She thought Jamie, short and wiry, was perfect for Alison, who was short and plump. They both had the same kind of curly dark hair and they’d produce adorable children someday.

      “Thanks for assuming I’ll have to try and get her back. Thanks a hell of a lot. And for the record, I don’t think Mona can steal your job. You have a solid fan base. Besides, I predict the camera’s going to pick up on her insincerity. You’ve made it because you’re sincere.”

      “Correction, I haven’t made it. Ratings are down. But I can tell you that I sincerely hate being here.” She waved a hand at the scenery. “Will you look at this countryside? There is nothing out here. No Bloomie’s, no Saks. Just mountains, hills and windmills.”

      “Cowboy country.”

      “Will you stop saying that? I like my cowboys in the middle of Madison Square Garden, not in the middle of nowhere. I’m never ad-libbing on the show again. Never. It was supposed to be a joke—me, the ultimate city girl, combing the boonies for a date.”

      “It is a joke. That’s why it’s such a great idea. I just wish they’d assigned Dave or Wayne to this gig instead of me.”

      Meg glanced at him, taking pity on the poor guy. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad they sent you. I don’t get along with Dave or Wayne anything like I do with you.”

      “Hey, you’re all right, too, but I’m at risk of losing Alison while we trot around God’s country. Sharon might have fired me if I’d refused, though, so here I am.”

      “Yeah, where are we, anyway?” Meg picked up the map from the floor of the van.

      “We’re coming up on the bustling metropolis of Sonoita.”

      “Where is it?” Meg squinted through the windshield as the late-afternoon sun cast a melon-colored glow over a crossroads with no stoplight. “There’re, like, five or six buildings at this intersection.”

      “Behold Sonoita.”

      “You’re kidding, right? There’s more to it down the road.”

      “I don’t think so, Meg. This looks about the way they described it to me in Phoenix. At the intersection we go left about two miles, hang a right, and we’ll be at the Circle W.”

      Meg let out a wail. “There’s no downtown! There’s not even a mall! Where am I supposed to get my lattes? I’m on the damned set of Gunsmoke!”

      Jamie grinned. “Wish I had that on tape. The viewers would love it.”

      Meg blew out a breath and flopped back against the seat. “The viewers are so not going to have the satisfaction of seeing me whine, Jamie Cranston, so forget about it.” She laid her head back. “But I would kill for a steaming