Rancher of Her Own (9781460384848)

by Daille, Barbara White

  Long before that summer, she’d already seen how girls’ hormones made them do silly, stupid things around boys, and she had determined never to be like those girls. As an Army brat who had attended a succession of schools overseas by the time she hit her teens, she hadn’t ever met a boy she’d waste her time crushing on, let alone want to go out with.

  Not, of course, that General Garland would ever have allowed his daughter to date at that age.

  But the year she turned thirteen, on her summer vacation to Garland Ranch, she had run into Pete Brannigan outside the barn. Instantly, she understood why girls did silly, stupid things around boys. Besides, at twenty, Pete wasn’t a boy but a man.

  Unfortunately, only two minutes afterward she discovered he was a younger version of her father. Hormones or no hormones, that was the end of her interest.

  It was her thirteenth year all over again yesterday, when her first glance at Pete had given her equally silly though much more grown-up thoughts. Yet their run-in and his crack about being her “nursemaid” proved he had only gotten worse over time. If he thought she would sit back and let him boss her around—the way he’d always done whenever she had come near the barn or corral with Andi—he was in for a big surprise.

  * * *

  TO PETE’S SURPRISE, after he and Jane met in the hotel lobby, they settled into a routine with her doing the directing and him doing the grunt work. Nothing very strenuous, as they’d started in the sitting room just off the lobby.

  His job consisted of shifting tables, couches and chairs and putting them back into place. It involved very little talking and a whole lot of looking, which suited him fine.

  “Midmorning will be a good time for us to get the common areas done,” Jane had said yesterday. “The guests will either be sightseeing or taking riding lessons out at the corral.”

  Exactly where he should have been, overseeing those lessons. Instead, he’d notified all the hands they could reach him on his cell phone if necessary.

  The morning had passed much more quickly and with much less bickering than he had anticipated—probably because once Jane got behind the camera, she stayed there.

  He stood leaning against the door frame, watching as she worked her way silently around the area.

  “I don’t see much of a difference,” he said finally. “And the room always looks comfortable enough to me.”

  “It’s a matter of perspective, especially with a static shot. Of finding the right balance between comfort and space.” She continued moving, her gaze on the camera, the shutter clicking away. “For now, we’re looking at still photos for the website and print promotion, but we might eventually shoot some panoramic video. Grandpa’s going all out with his ideas for the revamp.”

  “I can’t see anything wrong with the hotel the way it is.”

  “You don’t like change, do you?”

  “Not much.”

  “How do you feel about weddings?”

  “I don’t like them at all.”

  “Lovely.” She glanced at him. “Then I’d guess you have no plans to be the life of the party at Tina and Cole’s reception?”

  “Not hardly.”

  “What are the chances you’ll be able to hide your feelings?”

  “I’ll manage.”

  Camera lowered, she turned his way. “What happens when the bridal suites are refurbished and the hotel starts booking complete wedding parties?”

  “Doesn’t make a difference. The hotel guests are all the same to me, and we entertain the guests, period.”

  “You won’t make much of a spokesperson for the Hitching Post.”

  “Good thing I’m not looking for the job, then, isn’t it?”

  She raised a dark eyebrow but didn’t respond to that. Instead, she looked at her watch. “Why don’t we stop in at the kitchen for something to drink.”

  Paz was bustling around the room, and Maria, one of the maids, was assisting her. This close to lunchtime, they were too busy to do much but give him a quick hello. He nodded in return while Jane poured a couple of glasses of iced tea and handed one to him.

  They went through the kitchen door onto the back porch. Over at the corral, he could see the stable hand grooming one of the stallions.

  He took a long swig of tea and leaned against the porch railing.

  He could feel the noonday sun warming his back, spreading heat through him. Better to believe that than admit the truth, even to himself. Not that he had anything to be ashamed of with his reactions. Jane Garland wasn’t his type. Her preference in clothing did nothing for him. He didn’t care for her made-up face or her long nails, and her high-tech toys turned him off. But as he’d already acknowledged to himself, she was a good-looking woman—a sexy, good-looking woman—and standing this close to her would get any man overheated.

  He gulped down another mouthful of cold, sweet tea.

  “I’ll give you a break till this afternoon,” she said. “I don’t want you telling Grandpa I kept you so busy you couldn’t do the job he pays you for.”

  “Excuse the pun, but you really focus on your work, don’t you?”

  “I try to.”

  “How’d you get to be such a perfectionist?”

  She laughed. “You’ve met my father, haven’t you?”

  “Yeah, lots of times.” He took another drink and wished he hadn’t brought up the subject. Not if it was going to lead to a discussion about their parents.

  He didn’t like talking about his mother, who had passed on when he was in grade school. For other reasons, he avoided talking about his dad, the big-shot lawyer.

  “Something wrong with the tea?”

  The question made him realize he was scowling. “No, the tea’s fine. What does your dad have to do with your perfectionism?”

  She shrugged. At her movement, the necklace she wore shifted across the front of her blouse. Sunlight glinted off the silver links, drawing his attention to her curves. Again.

  “He’s an Army general,” she said. “That ought to explain it.” She downed her iced tea and licked the sweetness from her upper lip.

  Almost without thinking, he did the same. Then he blinked and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. It wasn’t moisture he was attempting to brush away, but a sudden thought he had no business having.

  “I’d better get inside and see if I can help Paz with anything. Are you done with that?”

  He nodded and held the empty glass out to her. She moved to reach for it, then froze for a moment, her gaze locked with his. They stood so close, it wouldn’t take but a half step to bring their bodies together. Before he could say yea or nay on giving that a try, she stepped back.

  “We’ll meet in the lobby again, around two?”

  Her tone was cool as usual, but had her voice wobbled just a bit?

  Glad to see her return to the house, he stayed there for a minute, leaning against the rail.

  Maybe she’d been right to question his ability to hide his feelings. Which meant he’d better work twice as hard at keeping his thoughts—and his reactions—in line.

  What he questioned was the flare of interest in her eyes...and the wisdom of testing if it was real or his imagination.

  Chapter Three

  Not long after the start of their afternoon session at the Hitching Post, Pete’s memories of the smart-mouthed teen Jane had once been came rushing back full force. A very good thing, as it made him forget the crazy questions that had plagued him since they’d parted that morning.

  She had gone all out with the rearrangement of one of the hotel suites “to catch the right slant of the sun,” and her never-ending orders rubbed him the wrong way.

  He set the stepladder she had requested next to the claw-foot tub in the suite’s bathroom.

  She ran
plenty of hot water and added several squirts of a liquid soap into the flow, creating a cloud of fluffy white suds that rose well above the edges of the tub. The amount of bubbles would have satisfied even his daughter.

  Arms crossed, he leaned against the door frame and watched Jane go up the ladder. “You do realize that sticker on the step you just breezed past says not to climb any higher, right?”

  “I need to find the best angle.” She sat astride the top of the ladder, one foot braced on the paint tray.

  While he could and did admire the view, he didn’t think much at all of her position. “I’ll tell you what you’ll find if you’re not careful—your head cracked open after you fall into that tub.”

  “Not your problem.”

  “No. Not until I have to explain the situation to Jed.”

  “Don’t worry—Grandpa won’t sue you. And if you’re that concerned, I’ll sign a waiver.” After a few clicks with her camera, she frowned and glanced toward the window near the head of the tub. “Can you move that curtain to one side?”

  “It’s bright as day in here already.”

  “The sun’s going down, though, and I want to catch the light streaming in across the bubbles.”

  He’d called it right about her liking things just so. He flipped up the bottom of the curtain to loop it over the rod.

  Again, she frowned. “Not exactly the effect I was looking for. As I said the first time, could you hold the curtain aside?”

  “You really are a perfectionist, aren’t you?”

  For a moment, her lips pressed into a tight, straight line. Then she smiled. “You ought to see my hospital corners when I make a bed.”

  “Was that an offer?” The words slipped out of his mouth before he had a chance to think about the consequences. What was it about Jane that scrambled his brain?

  She gave him a slow smile. “Cowboy, if I made you an offer, it would be perfectionistically clear.”

  The image that brought to mind left him breathless. He turned and shoved the fabric across the rod, then stood looking through the window. One way or another, he needed to forget these thoughts he was having about her. Or find out if he actually had seen that spark of interest earlier.

  “You know, if you’d really rather not do this,” she said mildly, “you could send someone else to take your place.”

  No, he couldn’t, thanks to Jed.

  Damn. He owed the boss so much, yet here he was, having inappropriate thoughts about the man’s granddaughter.

  He turned and looked up at her on the stepladder. “Just looking out for your safety.”

  “Thanks, but that’s not necessary. I’ve been in much riskier places than on a ladder in a hotel room.”

  “Name two.”

  “At the scene of a government overthrow. And undercover in a drug lord’s headquarters.”

  She’d made the statements so matter-of-factly, he couldn’t question the truth of them. Her blank expression told him not to pursue this part of their conversation.

  He’d heard Jed complain often enough about his granddaughter’s job as a photojournalist. Till now, he’d had no idea of the level of danger involved. He suspected Jed didn’t, either.

  “And you’ve gone from that to this?”

  She laughed, low and husky, setting off that rattling sensation inside him again. “When Grandpa speaks, I listen.”

  He thought of what she had said about her father, another topic she didn’t seem inclined to discuss. “And when your dad speaks, you pay attention, too?”

  “Something like that.” She swung her leg over the top of the ladder and clambered down the steps, one hand held in front of her to protect the camera on its strap. “I think we’re done here.”

  He glanced at the tub. “That’s a waste of hot water. And not to mention all the fun we’d miss out on with the bubbles.”

  “Is it your turn to make me an offer?”

  “Something like that.” He hadn’t deliberately echoed her words, but they were out before he could stop himself.

  “You’re right. Why waste all those bubbles? Why don’t you feel free to jump in—” she raised the camera “—and give me a big smile.”

  He stepped forward, reaching out to cover the lens. It put him close enough to see the pure silver gray of her eyes surrounded by lashes as dark as her hair. “I’ll pass on that offer, too.”

  “Why? Are you camera-shy?”

  The real answer would take too long and tell her much more than he wanted her to know. “Let’s make things perfectly clear, the way you like ’em.” He tugged gently on her silver chain and watched her eyes darken. “Honey, I’m not shy about anything.”

  * * *

  IGNORING PETE’S BOOTS clomping behind her, Jane walked down the hotel’s stairs to the first floor on legs that weren’t quite as steady as normal.

  In the suite upstairs, his teasing hadn’t meant a thing; it had just been his way of yanking her chain. Of trying to get the upper hand, the way he had always done—though years ago, he’d certainly never attempted that by moving in close enough for a kiss. To her shock, his nearness had made her pulse pick up. Now the idea of kissing him made it spike.

  She needed to get a grip on more than her camera.

  As they reached the lobby, Tina came out from her office behind the registration desk. “There you are. Pete, Rachel’s in the dining room.”

  Jane noticed Pete shoot a glance toward her before looking back at Tina. “The kids are home already? I didn’t realize it was that late.”

  “They were just dropped off a few minutes ago.”

  “I’ll check in and say hello.”

  Before he could turn to go down the hallway to the dining room, they heard footsteps approaching from that direction. She hadn’t seen Pete’s daughter for quite a while, but she recognized the small, blond-haired girl dressed in a red T-shirt and denim shorts who entered the lobby, followed by Jed.

  To her surprise, the girl gave her a big grin.

  “Hi, Jane!” she shrieked. “I knew you would come back because you have to be in the wedding. And we have to try on our dresses. Mine’s soooo pretty. Like your dress and Andi’s and Ally’s—well, but mine’s smaller. Ally’s is different because she’s the best maid and—”

  “Maid of honor,” Pete put in.

  “—maid of honor and she gets to be special. But I get to be special, too, because I’m going to carry flowers. Nobody else gets to carry flowers like mine—did you know that? And nobody else gets to drop them on the floor. Only me, right, Daddy?”

  “Right,” Pete said.

  “So that makes me extra-special!” She twirled, her backpack swinging wide, her shoulder-length blond hair fanning out behind.

  Jane’s fingers involuntarily tightened on her camera.

  “You’re extra-special every day, sweetheart.”

  Now Jane’s chest tightened, as if her heart had swelled just a bit. A man who loved his daughter couldn’t be all bad. Could he?

  Rachel laughed and turned to Jane again. “Miss Loring said it’s good to practice for very special things. Can you come and help me practice with the flowers?”

  It took Jane a moment to respond. “Uh...well, yes. We could do that.”

  “Today?”

  “Well...today or tomorrow.”

  “Promise?”

  “Yes, I promise.”

  “Good!” Rachel grinned at Jane again, then tugged on Pete’s hand. “I got the invitations, Daddy.”

  “She sure did,” said Jed, holding up a small yellow envelope. “In fact, I’m the first to receive one. Isn’t that right, Rachel?”

  “Yep. I gave one to Grandpa Jed first, Daddy. Is that okay?”

  “Fine by me,” Pete said.

  Rachel
dug into her backpack. “Here’s one for you. And one for Tina. And one for Jane.” She handed them each an envelope. “And now I have to give one to Paz.”

  “She might be busy getting supper ready,” Pete told her.

  “But she told me she wants her invitation right away.”

  “Did she?”

  As he looked down at his daughter, Pete’s half smile softened his features. His dark eyelashes highlighted his hazel eyes. Jane’s fingers tightened on the camera again. It took a conscious effort to relax her grip.

  “C’mon, Rachel,” Jed said. “Let’s go see Paz.”

  “I’ll go with you.” Tina stepped from behind the registration desk. “Robbie ran right into the kitchen to talk to Abuela when he and Rachel came home.”

  Before Jane could blink, she found herself alone in the lobby with Pete, who stood watching his daughter skip down the hallway. In profile, his eyelashes looked long and thick, his lips firm, his jaw solid and beginning to darken with stubble.

  She wondered what she would have done if he had taken her up on the suggestion to climb into the bubble bath.

  But of course, she would have gone for the best angle—while hoping her shaking hands wouldn’t destroy the results.

  At photo shoots, she sometimes saw people—female and male—wearing nothing but scraps of clothing. She was used to that. She saw what the camera showed her, filtered through the lens. Yet simply the thought of seeing Pete Brannigan undressed seemed to be a whole other story.

  Maybe it was that sexy shadow on his jaw...or the light brown hair that turned golden in sunlight... Or maybe it was his broad shoulders and muscular chest...his sculpted arms and flat abs... Whatever it was, the man had what it took to grace the cover of any magazine.

  He turned his head and caught her looking at him.

  Normally, that wouldn’t have bothered her, but after their close encounter and his attempt to rattle her in the suite, she felt the need to say something. “It’s only an occupational hazard.”

  “Staring at me?”

  “In your dreams, cowboy. No, not you. Not even men specifically. Faces. Male or female. Cats, dogs, you name it.”