by Jane Porter
Colton gave each of the horses attention, rubbing noses, and giving pats. He glanced at Jenny, who had hung back.
“You don’t like horses?” he asked.
“I don’t dislike them. I just haven’t been around them much.”
“Fair enough.” He gestured for her to follow him. “Brock should be in the back, with the bulls.”
They tramped across gravel to dirt, and on into the barn, fragrant with hay, leather, dung, and warm animals.
Jenny’s nose wrinkled. It was a peculiar smell. Not bad. But… different.
Colton struggled not to laugh. “Is this your first time in a barn?”
“No. In school we went on a field trip to a ranch. To Sage Carrigan’s ranch. I think it’s around here someplace.”
“The Carrigans’ ranch, Circle C, is further back in Paradise Valley. We passed the MacCreadies’ place already, and the Douglases’. If we had kept going on the main road, we would have reached Brock’s dad’s place, and then the Circle C Ranch butts up against the Sheenans’.”
“Why didn’t Brock want to work his family’s ranch?”
“Brock wanted to be his own boss, do his own thing, and here he can.”
“You can’t grow a lot of crops up this high, can you?”
“No. This is grazing land, ranching land, and it’s not easy in winter. Brock’s got his work cut out for him here.”
A gray and white dog raced into the far end of the barn, barking wildly, and then another dog joined the first, barking too.
A big black-haired man followed the dogs into the barn and called a curt command. Both dogs instantly stopped barking and sat down, tongues hanging from their mouths.
“Colt,” the man said, walking towards them hand outstretched. “Good to see you.” He shook Colton’s hand. “It’s been a long time.”
“Couple years at least,” Colton agreed. He turned to Jenny and introduced her. “Brock, this is my friend Jenny Wright. We grew up together on Chance.”
Jenny shook Brock’s hand. He was tall and she had to tip her head back to see him. He had dark brown eyes that looked almost black in the barn’s natural light. “Nice to meet you, Brock,” she said.
After the handshake, Brock’s hands went to his hips and he frowned as he tried to place her name. “How do you spell your last name?” he asked her. “W-r-i-g-h-t?”
Jenny nodded.
“I know your name. Why?” he asked.
“I went to school with Dillon. He was a couple years older, but we were both at Marietta High at the same time.”
He shook his head. “That’s not it.” He kept studying her and then he snapped his fingers. “Your dad isn’t Tom, is he?”
Jenny’s eyes widened. She nodded.
“He worked at the high school,” Brock said. “When I was there. Didn’t he?”
Jenny’s mouth had dried. She nodded once. Yes. Her dad had worked at the school. He’d been the janitor for four years before losing his job due to his problems with alcohol.
“I thought so,” Brock said, smiling for the first time. “Nice guy. Really nice guy. Is he still alive?”
Jenny nodded again.
“Good. Glad to hear it. Will you give him my best?”
Jenny felt a lump form in her throat. She was grateful for Brock’s kindness. “I will.”
After that the conversation turned to two of Brock’s bulls, the younger bull the son of the older, and how Brock thought they might be good bucking bulls for the rodeo circuit, which is why he wanted Colton’s perspective.
Jenny followed the men through to the outside paddock. The two bulls were in separate areas, but even then, they stood back from each other on either side of the fence in a faceoff.
They were huge animals, with big heads and horns and massive shoulders.
“You really ride those?” Jenny asked Colton, during a pause in Colton and Brock’s discussion.
He smiled at her. “Crazy, huh?”
“Yes.”
“My mom thinks so, too.”
“Why do you do it then?”
“I like the rush. The money isn’t bad. And I happen to be good at it.”
She watched one of the big dark brown bulls paw the ground, and toss his head. “But it’s dangerous.”
Colton shrugged. “Life’s dangerous. But you can’t let that stop you.”
After a bit, the three of them headed inside Brock’s house to warm up with some hot coffee and fresh cinnamon bread made by his housekeeper, an older woman who silently came and went as they sat at the dining room table talking.
Except for Brock and his housekeeper, his big log cabin was quiet and no lights were on upstairs. The dining room, even with the lights on, had a vaguely empty air, as if it was seldom used. It certainly lacked decorative touches that could be called feminine touches, like curtains at the window, art on the wall, a centerpiece for the big oak table. No, it was very much a man’s house, a bachelor house, just as Brock struck Jenny as a confirmed bachelor too.
She wasn’t sure why she’d decided he was a bachelor. He was mid to late thirties and fit, with the taut, honed muscles of one who worked hard for a living. He had excellent manners, too, and could channel warmth when required, so she wondered if it was his grooming that made him appear a little unsettled, perhaps even a little less civilized, as he wore his thick black hair rather long and shaggy, and his jaw had so much black stubble it could pass as a beard. Thus it was a shock to Jenny when Colton asked about Brock’s kids.
“How are the twins?” Colton asked.
“They’re good. Getting big,” Brock said, stirring restlessly in his chair. “Eleven now.”
“Pre-teens,” Jenny said.
Brock nodded. “They don’t live here now, not during the school terms. They’re both at a prep school on the East Coast. It was hard to see them go, but they needed to be pushed, and they needed the structure. They were starting to get into trouble here, and lag academically, and I couldn’t have that. I promised Amy they’d go to college. Do all the things she and I didn’t do, so they’re off in Connecticut now. But they should be home for Christmas.” He rose abruptly, gestured to their empty coffee cups. “Would you like a refill?”
Colton shook his head and stood, too. “No. We should go. I’ve promised to take my mom shopping later today. I ought to get on the road.”
Brock walked them to Colton’s rusty orange red truck, and he stood in the gravel driveway, seeing them off, his two Australian shepherds flanking him as he watched the truck drive away.
It took them almost fifteen minutes of traveling the steep winding mountain lane to get back on the main road. Brock’s Copper Mountain Ranch would definitely see snow sooner than low-lying ranches. Jenny couldn’t imagine being trapped up there after one of the big storms. A heavy snow fall would keep you there for days, if not weeks.
“I liked him,” Jenny said. “But he’s different, isn’t he? Strikes me as reclusive.”
“He’s always been a bit of a loner, but he’s become even more isolated in the past few years. I’m not sure him sending the kids to boarding school was the best idea. The kids kept him connected to the world and active in the community. It was good for him. The kids were good for him,” Colton answered.
“Where’s their mom?”
“She died eleven years ago, was killed in a car accident just after the twins were born.” Colton braked at the highway, gauging traffic before merging. “The accident took place just a quarter mile from here. A drunk driver took her out. Brock’s raised the kids ever since.”
“Now that you mention it, I think I remember hearing news about the accident. It happened right around the holidays. She was young, too.”
Colton nodded. “They were both pretty young. They’d been high school sweethearts. Married right out of school. He worked the ranch but she’d make the drive into Marietta where she worked at the bank on Main Street. She was a teller. She hated leaving the babies to go work but they needed her paycheck.
” Colton fell silent. “It was terrible. The funeral. It was terrible for years after. Brock’s not had an easy life, and those kids have needed a mother.” He glanced at Jenny, a smile lurking in his eyes. “Apparently, things are looking up for him, though. I stay in touch with his brother Trey and Trey said Brock’s dating. It might even be serious. We’re all hoping it is. He deserves a good woman, and the twins need a loving mom.”
Colton shot her another quick glance a few moments later. “You’ve gone all quiet.”
“Just thinking about everything you said. Brock does seem awfully alone.”
“Then let’s hope this new woman in his life is the right one and maybe soon we will have a wedding—” he broke off, grimacing. “Sorry. That’s got to still sting.”
She shrugged. “The shock’s wearing off. Acceptance is setting in. Which is good,” she added quickly. “I can see now that marrying Charles would have been a mistake. I think I had to come home to see it. In Chicago I could pretend to be someone else, but here in Marietta it’s hard to escape facts. Hard not to see me for who I am, and to realize that I’ve spent years trying to change myself to win approval. I don’t want to do that anymore.”
He nodded approvingly. “Good. You shouldn’t have to.”
*
They stopped a few minutes later for a quick lunch at a little barbecue place in Emigrant Gulch on their way back to town.
The barbecue place wasn’t much bigger than a double-wide trailer surrounded by gravel, but the smell of slow-roasted pork and beef wafting from the open front door made Jenny’s mouth water. She hadn’t thought she was hungry until now.
They sat down at one of the long picnic tables in the center of the room, and studied the menu. It all looked good to Jenny. “Order for me,” she said, tossing the menu back onto the table.
He closed his menu, and leaned towards her, big arms braced on the table. “No preferences?”
“It all sounds good.”
“Even the barbecued testicles?”
“What?” she cried, reaching for the menu to have a second look.
“Just kidding,” he answered, closing his menu with a grin. “They don’t have them. Here.” His eyes gleamed at her. “Want anything else, darlin’?”
Her pulse jumped. Her insides did a wild flip.
Did she want anything else? Oh yes… yes she did.
She touched the tip of her tongue to her upper lip, her mouth suddenly very dry. “Like…?”
He stared into her eyes, searching them, letting her see the heat in his own. The heat made her melt and her mouth just grew drier. She sucked in her bottom lip, feeling parched.
He cocked an eyebrow, his expression wicked. “I could get you whatever you like.”
For a moment she couldn’t breathe, much less think. Her imagination went into overdrive, fueled by possibilities.
What would she like?
Everything…
He laughed softly and reached out to tap the tip of her nose. “Soda, iced tea, water. They might even have lemonade.”
Oh. That’s what he meant. A drink. Beverages. She nodded, blushing. “Yes. I’m super thirsty. Water would be great.”
Still grinning, he got to his feet. “Water coming right up.”
She watched him walk to the counter to place their lunch order. She knew she was staring at him as he walked, but it was impossible not to admire his neat hips, his long legs, and the way the denim wrapped his muscle, hugging it.
It was even more impossible to forget how he’d felt against her, last night. His body was hard and warm. Beautifully warm, incredibly, seductively solid.
That kiss, there, next to his truck, had blown her mind.
That kiss made her want to take risks, giant risks, and for the next few days at least, just live.
The girl working at the counter was eying Colton with open appreciation. She was a tall, slender redhead, a very pretty redhead, and when she said something to Colton that made him smile, Jenny felt a strange sharp pain in her chest. The pain grew worse when Colton answered the girl, and made her laugh.
Jenny closed her eyes, stunned by the stab of jealousy.
She’d never felt jealous before—
No, not true. She’d been jealous of every girlfriend Colton had ever had back when she was in junior high. It hadn’t mattered that Colton didn’t even know she existed. It still hurt to think of him out with girls, talking with them, flirting, making out in some parked car.
She wanted to be his girl.
And from the sharp pang she felt now as the redhead flirted with Colton, Jenny knew a part of her still wanted to be Colton’s girl.
Silly Jenny. Always wanting what she couldn’t have.
Colton returned to the table with two bottles of water. “Lunch will be just a few minutes,” he said, twisting off the cap from one water bottle before handing it to her.
This time, he didn’t sit on the opposite side of the table, he sat down next to her at the picnic table, facing out, his back resting against the table, his shoulder practically touching hers.
Jenny turned on the bench, too, to make it easier to see him. They’d sat close in the truck but this somehow felt different. “The girl behind the counter,” Jenny said. “Did she know you?”
“No. Why?”
“She just seemed….really friendly.”
“Oh, she was. Very friendly.” He looked at her, expression shuttered. “Did that bother you?”
“No.”
His eyebrow lifted.
“No.” She frowned at her water. “No, it didn’t bother me, but it seemed strange. She knows you’re here with me but she was so flirty.”
He shot her an amused glance. “Maybe she thought we were just friends.”
“Well, we are just friends.”
“Maybe she thought we were brother and sister,” he added.
“Could be,” Jenny muttered, hating him right then, as well as the sexy redhead behind the counter.
Colton’s soft laugh was a rumble in his chest.
She’d lifted her chin in silent protest, when Colton suddenly leaned towards her, closing the distance to murmur. “Maybe we need to make sure we’re not brother and sister…”
And then he covered her mouth with his, in a slow, warm searching kiss that quickly went from sweet and tentative to explosive heat.
Her mouth opened beneath the pressure of his lips, and she welcomed the stab of his tongue, his tongue stroking hers, teasing hers, stirring her senses and nerves so that she felt hot and molten, as if some of Sage’s dark rich chocolate melted down to the warmest, sweetest liquid.
She felt liquid by the time Colton ended the kiss. Astonished she stared into his eyes after he lifted his head.
“You should warn a girl when you do something like that,” she whispered, breathless. “Maybe call the fire department. Get a paramedic. ’Cause you are dangerous.”
He laughed, a deep sexy laugh before kissing her lightly on the mouth, his breath and lips warm against hers, his skin smelling of soap and shaving cream and a hint of spice.
Her breath caught in her throat and she struggled to control her wildly beating heart.
Colton Thorpe was quickly turning her world inside out.
Chapter Nine
‡
Lunch arrived—two beef brisket sandwiches—with potato salad and coleslaw, but Jenny couldn’t see straight to eat.
She couldn’t think clearly, either. Quite frankly, she couldn’t think at all.
She stared at Colton, dazed, not just by the intensity of her emotions, but by the hot, fierce rush of lust. Lust. Jenny, who had found it shockingly easy to remain a virgin into her twenties, now felt positively wanton around Colton.
“Yes, princess?” he asked, a crooked smile curving his beautiful mouth, pushing aside his plate to focus on her.
“Did I say something?” she asked huskily.
He reached out to strum his thumb over her quivering lips. “No, but maybe you should,
because it’d be so easy to haul you out to my truck and pull you down onto my lap and kiss you the way I want to kiss you.”
She blinked, very much liking the sound of it. “Okay.”
He laughed quietly, his blue eyes sparking at her. “Okay.” Laughing again, he reached for his sandwich, but his gaze continued to rest on her.
It wasn’t until they were driving home that Jenny found the nerve to ask him about his love life. “Are you a romantic, Colton?”
She’d caught him off guard and he turned his head and gave her a sharp look. “What?”
“You asked me yesterday if I’d ever been madly, passionately in love, and I was wondering, have you?”
He turned his gaze back to the road but his brow was furrowed and he didn’t look happy about her question. “I believe in love, yeah.”
But Jenny wasn’t satisfied with his answer. She wanted more than that and she tugged on her sleeve, pulling the soft fuzzy knit down over her wrist, hiding her hand. “So you’ve felt like you’d die without someone? That losing her would break your heart?”
Colton drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. “Yeah.”
Jenny glanced at him. “So you don’t think romantic love is an illusion?”
*
Colton sighed inwardly, and shifted on the seat, and then drummed his fingers again, hating the turn their conversation had taken. He did not want to talk about his love life, or his past, not with Jenny, not with anyone. “No,” he said brusquely.
Her head lifted and she looked at him with those wide brown eyes of hers, her gaze searching. But from her expression Jenny wasn’t ready to drop the subject. “Was it as wonderful as they say?” she asked.
He stifled another sigh, telling himself he owed Jenny something. He’d certainly asked a lot of questions of her last night at dinner. “Falling in love is great,” he said shortly. “Falling out of love…not so great. In fact, it’s pretty damn awful.”
“Did you want to marry her?”
He laughed once, low and rough. “I did marry her.”