The Rancher

by Julia Justiss

  She smiled. “I’m no professional, but I’m always ready to talk about wine.”

  “Come in anytime.”

  “Thanks. Once the calving season is over, maybe I will.”

  As the proprietor walked away, Harrison turned to him, smiling. “Hope you weren’t too bored. But it’s your own fault. That’s what happens when you get two wine fanatics together.”

  “Enjoy talking with Buddy?”

  “Oh, yes. And thank you for more or less forcing me to come. You were right. The place is light and lively—and fun.”

  It warmed his heart, after all the sadness she’d experienced, to see her eyes sparkle and her face bright with enthusiasm. “So you like Buddy’s then?”

  “Very much! You’re enjoying it too, aren’t you? I understand the draft beers are top-notch.”

  “The beer’s fine. I’ve switched over to water, so go ahead and explore the wine list. But I won’t really enjoy Buddy’s until you dance with me.”

  As if on cue, the band struck up a lively tune. Holding out his hand to her, he said, “I think this is our dance.”

  Her happy look faded. “I really don’t know how to dance to this.”

  “You’ll pick it up quickly. You’re a math person, right? Perfect. This is a two-step.”

  Before she could protest further, he grabbed her hand and pulled her onto the floor. As he’d suspected, it didn’t take her long to pick up the rhythm and the simple moves of the dance. As he watched, her initial wariness changed from understanding, to enjoyment, to a delight that had her clapping enthusiastically when the song ended.

  Her enthusiasm kicked his pleasure up a notch. He enjoyed dancing. But he enjoyed even more seeing her enjoy it too.

  But when he claimed her hand to pull her into another, she pulled away. “Let’s sit this one out. I need some water too.”

  “Okay. But only if you promise you’ll come dance with me again when they play a slow song.”

  She looked up at him from under her lashes. “A slow song? Like one where you’ll wrap your arms around me and pull me close, your chin resting on my head while we sway together to the music?”

  The picture she painted and the sexy timbre of her voice spurred a jolt of desire that hardened him instantly. Followed, when his brain caught up, by the delighted realization that she was flirting with him.

  “You bet, Cowgirl,” he said, squeezing the hand he held as he led her across the floor back to the bar. “Exactly that kind of dance.”

  This time, he stood behind her as she perched on the stool, her back leaning against his chest as she sipped the water he ordered, his arm touching hers as he reached around her to pick up and set down his water. His nostrils filled with the sweet scent of her—lavender and vanilla, and warm, sexy woman. Though desire pulsed in his veins and buzzed in every nerve, he was content for now just to know she was willing to allow him that close. Every rock-hard part of his body promised that each slow step closer to intimacy would be worth the wait.

  Her water finished, she swiveled on the stool to face the dance floor, smiling as she sipped her wine and swayed to the music. He shifted to stand beside her, one arm propped casually on the bar behind her, his side pressing against hers.

  Exhilarated by the contact, oblivious to anything but the warm, soft pressure of her body against his, he didn’t realize that she’d asked him something until she tapped on his arm. “What?” he asked, startled out of his sensual reverie.

  “There’s a woman over there who keeps waving to you,” she said, indicating the far side of the room with her wineglass.

  Looking in the direction she pointed, he gazed across the room and stiffened.

  Julie Ann was paying one of her periodic visits to Whiskey River.

  Before he could look away, she made eye contact and smiled, then beckoned him with a curled finger.

  “I think she wants to talk to you,” Harrison said.

  “She’s an old friend I went to high school with,” Duncan said. He nodded to her, but she continued to wave at him, obviously wanting him to come over. Knowing Julie Ann, trying to ignore her wouldn’t work. Better to just see what she wanted before she sashayed over to join them.

  More than a little annoyed, he said, “Sorry, do you mind if I go talk with her for a minute?”

  “Far be it for me to keep you from obeying the summons of a blonde goddess,” Harrison said acidly.

  “Let me get rid of the insistent blonde goddess and I’ll be right back, Cowgirl. Don’t go off two-stepping with anyone else.”

  “I’ll try to restrain myself.”

  Sighing with resignation, Duncan made his way across the crowded room and halted beside his former fiancée. As usual, she was dressed to impress in expensive boots, skintight jeans, and a tight sweater cut low to reveal the tops of her full breasts.

  Once upon a time merely standing beside her as she gazed up at him, batting her thick-lashed eyes seductively, would have been enough to reduce him to hopeless, tongue-tied need. Funny how having his love and devotion and dreams ground into the dirt under her high-heeled boots could extinguish the lust and starry-eyed love he’d once felt for her.

  “Slumming, Julie Ann?” he asked as he reached her. “Must be a pretty boring weekend in Dallas if you’ve come back here.”

  “Now, Duncan, don’t exaggerate. I may prefer living in the city, but you know I still love Whiskey River.”

  “If you say so. What did you need to see me about?”

  “Can’t an old friend just want to say ‘hello’ and find out how you’re doing?”

  “Hello, and I’m doing fine. Was there anything else?”

  She pursed her full lips—lips that used to drive him frantic with desire—into a pout. “You didn’t used to be so impatient with me, darling.”

  “No, as I recall, I was as patient as Job. Didn’t do me much good, so I gave up the effort. Have a nice visit with your family, Julie Ann.”

  He turned to go, but she caught his sleeve. “Don’t be mad, Duncan. In your heart of hearts, you know I was right to call things off between us. That doesn’t mean we can’t be friends. We share a lot of history.”

  She had a point. “I’m not mad—not anymore. I honestly do wish you well.”

  At that moment, the band began another mournful country tune. “Come on, dance with me. For old times’ sake. You always were the best dancer in Whiskey River.”

  He didn’t really want to dance with her. But Julie Ann was used to having her way with men and quite capable of arguing if she didn’t get it. The fastest way to get rid of her was to just give her the dance she wanted and be done with it.

  She’d angled her head up, brushing against him and twisting her torso so he had the best view down the vee of her sweater to the swell of her breasts—a move that once would have had him too immobilized by lust to do anything but blindly agree to whatever she wanted.

  Now, all he saw was the calculation behind every turn, every pout, every artful pose of her body, each little touch and movement designed to bend a man to her will. Since she’d made it clear some time ago that she didn’t envision a future with him, he wondered why she bothered to try to keep him dangling.

  To reassure herself of her power over men, even one she no longer wanted?

  With something like surprise, he realized it didn’t matter. Julie Ann had ceased to be a product he had any interest in buying.

  “One dance,” he agreed, and followed her onto the floor.

  It was another two-step, which unfortunately meant he had to hold her hand and put his arm around her waist. Telling himself to pretend she was someone else—anyone else—he took the position and as the music started, swung her into the motion of the dance.

  Since the bargain hadn’t included further conversation, he didn’t attempt any. But after a few minutes of silence, she leaned closer to ask, “Isn’t that Harrison Scott you were talking with? The girl with her Daddy’s first name, the rancher who recently died?”
/>   He wasn’t about to be drawn into talking about Harrison. “Yes,” he said shortly.

  Julie Ann shook her head. “Poor girl. To lose her Daddy so soon after her humiliation in Dallas. My friend Brandy knows her ex-boyfriend Parker. My, what a gorgeous, foxy girl he’s with now! Can’t really blame him for preferring a sexy blonde to—well, Harrison’s attractive in her own way, I suppose, but a girl like her couldn’t hope to compete with a beauty like Madison Taylor. And then, after Parker decided to break up their partnership, having all their clients prefer to remain with him . . . No wonder she came running to her Daddy in Whiskey River.”

  My partnership has been dissolved.

  Shocked, Duncan listened in stunned disbelief. Julie Ann might be self-centered and driven to prove the power of her allure, but she was honest and not malicious. She generally told the truth as she knew it.

  “It’s nice of you to be kind to her, Duncan,” she was saying. “But then, you always did have a soft spot for waifs and strays. I imagine she’s really grateful to get some attention from a handsome devil like you.” She gave him another of those studied smiles, accompanied by a batting of her heavily mascaraed eyelashes.

  Appalled by what he’d just heard, all he wanted was to get back to Harrison. But he couldn’t walk off and leave Julie Ann alone in the middle of the dance floor without creating a scene that would lead to endless speculation among the onlookers, most of whom were longtime residents of Whiskey River well aware of the history between the two of them. So, remaining grimly silent, Duncan continued to dance with her, counting the measures until the song ended.

  At last, the music stopped. After walking his partner back to her table, he said, “Thanks for the dance. I’ll see you around.”

  Julie Ann gave him a satisfied smile. “Yes, go back to your latest charity project. See you around, Duncan.”

  One look at the expression on Harrison’s face as he reached her had him cursing under his breath. Gone was the excitement and the joy that had animated her on the dance floor, leaving the closed, shuttered look he remembered from the time he’d met her and her Daddy on the ridge.

  “Sorry that took so long. She insisted on a dance.”

  “No problem. I think I’m ready to leave now. So dance as many with her as you like.”

  She stood up, and he caught her arm. “Don’t go, Harrison. Yes, there used to be something between us, but that was over long ago. She was my high school sweetheart, the girl I once thought I would marry. But in the end, Julie Ann decided she preferred life in the big city and working as a corporate lawyer in a swanky Dallas law firm to ear-tagging calves, mending fences, and clearing brush on a Hill Country ranch.”

  “To each her own—” she began before halting abruptly. “Julie Ann?” she repeated. “Julie Ann what?”

  “Her last name, you mean? Keller.”

  Her face went white, then flushed. “Wonderful. Have a nice life, Duncan.”

  Pulling free of his grasp, she walked rapidly through the crowd and out the door. Another dance had begun, impeding his progress as he tried to go after her. By the time he caught up to her, she was striding across the parking lot, almost to her car.

  He sprinted to reach her, grabbing her shoulder before she could get in and drive away. “Are you mad that I danced with Julie Ann? I didn’t really have much choice, unless I wanted to be outright rude.”

  “No, of course not. Dance with whomever you choose. But Julie Ann Keller belongs to the group of young professionals Parker used to hang out with. I never met her, but I recognize the name. I can only imagine what she must have been telling you.”

  For a millisecond, he considered denying she’d said anything before realizing Harrison was too intelligent to believe it.

  “Was it true?” he asked after a moment.

  She gave a humorless laugh. “What did she say?”

  “That it was Parker’s idea to end the partnership, for one.”

  “Very true. He also moved in with the intern he hired, took all our clients, and most of the firm’s money. Now that my humiliation is complete, you can go back to your beautiful ex-girlfriend. I’m going h-home.” Her voice broke, and though she’d turned her face away, in the light from the streetlamp, he could see the tears sliding down her cheeks.

  Over the last two weeks, he’d come to know her and admire her drive, her intensity, her compulsion to get things right. To appreciate her self-deprecating humor and genuine concern for people.

  How could her former boyfriend have been bastard enough to betray her?

  Furious for her, aching for her, he pulled her into his arms. “I’m so sorry, Cowgirl.”

  For an instant, she tried to push him away. Then she succumbed, burrowing into him as he cradled her in his arms and tucked her head under his chin, muffled sobs shaking her body.

  All too soon, she pushed at his chest. Reluctantly, he let her go.

  “Sorry,” she said, swiping at the tears with an impatient hand as she straightened.

  “No need to be. I can hardly believe someone you cared for and trusted could have done that to you.”

  “Well, believe it,” she said with a shrug.

  “What a stupid, ignorant a—” he cut himself off. “If Dallas weren’t so far away, I’d go there this minute, flush him out, and beat him up.”

  She gave a watery chuckle. “You sound like Daddy. Turned out he was right about Parker all along. I guess I was just too snowed by his charm to let myself doubt the love I thought we shared. What a loser, right?”

  “It’s not being a loser to believe in the people you love and trust that they will be honest with you. If they aren’t, that’s on them, not you.”

  He wanted so much to make her feel better. To bury the memory of that awful experience by keeping her safe in his arms.

  “Buddy kept you talking about wine so long, I didn’t get the dances I wanted. It’s not too late to rectify that.”

  She shook her head. “I can’t go back in. I just can’t. By now, half the people in the bar will have heard the story. I’ll have to deal with the stares and the whispers-behind-hands the next time I go into town, but I can’t handle it tonight.”

  “Let me take you home then.”

  “No, stay and dance. Your boss works you hard. You deserve some fun.”

  “But I want to have fun with you.”

  She shook her head, tears still sheening her eyes. “Didn’t I warn you? I don’t do fun.”

  “Don’t sell yourself short. I know what it’s like to be blindsided by someone you love. Julie Ann did that to me.”

  She’d been looking off into the distance, but at that, she snapped her gaze back to him. “To you?” she echoed, her tone incredulous. “She must have been crazy.”

  “Sounds like we both got mixed up with some crazy people. On second thought, let me drive you home. We can pick up your car tomorrow.”

  “Thank you, but I’m quite capable of driving myself.”

  “I know you are. I’m just . . . worried about you.”

  She laughed shortly. “Don’t be. I’m not going to let the prospect of a little more embarrassment push me into doing something stupid. I’m made of sterner stuff than that. There will be gossip and some sniggering, probably. Soon enough, though, there will be another juicy new scandal to gossip over and people will move on.”

  She was tough, he’d give her that. She had to have been tough to survive the heartache and betrayal that had ruined her business and sent her running from Dallas. His respect for her rose even as his heart ached for her pain.

  “Okay, drive yourself. But I’d feel better if you’d let me follow you and make sure you get home okay.”

  She looked back at him then, a soft sadness on her face. “Ever the gentleman. Okay, if it would make you feel better, you can follow me home.”

  “It would, and thank you.”

  With that, he walked her the rest of the way to her car, opened the door for her, then trotted back to his truck an
d drove off after her.

  Chapter Eight

  She knew the true story behind her leaving Dallas would surface eventually, Harrison told herself stoically as she drove home, the headlights of Duncan’s truck bright in her rearview mirror.

  Duncan, who’d been so kind. Her eyes teared again at the memory, even as she castigated herself for breaking down like an idiot.

  But . . . Julia Ann was a dashing beauty, just like Madison, the woman Parker had preferred. Seeing Duncan dancing with her had been bad enough, but when he’d returned and she’d discovered exactly who his partner was, the echo of the situation’s similarity to what had happened to her in Dallas had overcome her still-tenuous hold over her emotions.

  It had been cowardly to run. She should have done as he suggested—gone back into the bar and danced with him, chin up and head held high, regardless of the stories that would inevitably be circulating about her.

  And she would face up to them . . . soon. Tonight, she was just too heart-sore and weary.

  Ten minutes later, she drove down the gravel drive to the house and parked her car back in the shed. By the time Duncan pulled his truck up at the fence separating the drive from the front yard garden, she’d walked over to meet him.

  Though she’d intended to just tap on his window, thank him, and bid him good night, he opened the truck door and climbed down. “I’ll walk you in.”

  “No need. As you can see, I’m fine. No melodramatic urges to drive myself off a cliff.”

  “I hope not. Sounds like he wasn’t worth it.”

  “Not in the end, I suppose. By the way, there’s still plenty of time for you to return to Buddy’s.”

  He shook his head. “Not in the mood any longer.”

  “Not in the mood for fun? What about lightening up, taking some time off to kick back and enjoy life? I bet that band has a few sets left you could two-step to.”

  “Probably. But I kinda prefer to stay with my partner from the first dance.”