Romancing the Rancher (The Pirelli Brothers)

by Stacy Connelly

  “You have to excuse them.” The most reserved of the group, Kara, explained. “Jarrett Deeks has become something of a mystery around here, and everyone’s dying to get the scoop on him.”

  “And with you living out there,” Debbie reiterated, “it only makes sense that you dish away.”

  “I’m not scooping or dishing—” or kissing “—anyone.” Not that anyone had mentioned kissing—that simply seemed to be where her thoughts went more often than not since the kiss early that morning.

  If you could call it a kiss. Jarrett had barely given her the chance to respond, sauntering off while she stared after him, her lips still tingling from the electric spark. He’d caught her totally off guard. Next time she’d— Wait, she didn’t want a next time. She was keeping her distance, remember?

  “I picked the cabins because I wanted a place that would offer some peace and quiet,” she insisted. “I’m not looking for anything else.”

  The group’s attention turned to the waiter as he arrived with their drinks followed quickly by the mouthwatering combo platter he placed in the center of the table. Though the appetizers—coconut shrimp, calamari rings and potato skins—were the high-fat, high-calorie foods Theresa normally avoided, she’d quickly agreed to share the mix of bar food. The bite-size selections were easy to eat one-handed, allowing her to keep her left arm tucked beneath the table and sparing her—and her friends—the painful embarrassment of watching her struggle to cut up an entrée with a knife and fork.

  After making a toast to the bride’s and groom’s happiness, they divvied up the food, and at the first bite of salty-bacon-and-cheese-sprinkled potato skins, Theresa sighed. Why was it some of the things that were so bad tasted so good?

  As delicious as the food was, it didn’t keep Debbie distracted for long. “You told us you’ve been helping out at the stables,” she said, pointing a fried shrimp in Theresa’s direction. “You and Jarrett must have talked about something.”

  “He’s not exactly an open-up-and-share kind of guy.”

  All the more reason for her to keep her distance. If she was interested in a guy, she wanted him to be the type to be open with his thoughts and feelings. She didn’t want to have to fight to drag out every little bit of emotion, to battle to gain his trust only to lose it in the end, as she had with Michael, knowing she’d never really had it in the first place.

  And even if Jarrett didn’t have emotional roadblocks set up all around, it was ridiculous to even think in terms of a relationship when she’d be going home in just over three weeks. She wasn’t about to start something when the end was already clearly in sight. What would be the point?

  Thoughts of what it would be like if Jarrett really kissed her teased Theresa’s imagination. Three weeks might not be all that long, but it left plenty of time for kissing...and maybe even more if she had the courage to go for it.

  With a quick shake of her head, she reached for her glass of water. What was she thinking? That she was going to have some kind of vacation fling with Jarrett Deeks? She’d never had any kind of fling and to even contemplate having one now when her life was in such shambles... Crazy. That’s all there was to it.

  She was not a fling kind of woman. She’d always taken relationships and intimacy seriously. She and Michael had dated for several months before they slept together and by then, she’d fully expected to marry him someday—and look how that had turned out. All that time planning, all those years of dating, all her certainty in what their future would hold, shattered and broken in one split second.

  Maybe living for the day wasn’t so crazy. Maybe the real insanity was planning for a future that might never come...

  “I know a little bit about his past,” Sophia chimed in almost reluctantly as she wiped her crumb-coated fingers on a napkin. “Just what I could find online.”

  “Oh, good grief!” Kara protested, setting her glass of white wine back on the table with a soft clink. “Did you investigate him?”

  “Sophia Cameron, Mrs. PI,” Darcy joked.

  Sophia raised her hands in an innocent gesture. “I did not investigate him, and I didn’t do anything other than find what’s public record on the internet.”

  “But why would you even bother?” Theresa asked.

  “Well...” Her cousin shot a glance at her soon-to-be sister-in-law. “There was a time when Darcy and I thought Jarrett might be the right guy for Debbie, and I wanted to find out more about him.”

  “Oh.” Pinpricks of envy stabbed Theresa as she glanced over at the outgoing and curvaceous blonde. “So you and Jarrett—”

  After swallowing a sip of her margarita, Debbie shook her head. “Never even went on a date. You don’t have to worry. Your cousin pretty much tried to set me up with every single guy in town.”

  “Not every guy,” Sophia protested.

  “Not with Drew,” Darcy teased as she popped a calamari ring into her mouth. Sophia had been somewhat relentless in trying to set her friend up, not knowing Debbie and her brother were secretly dating.

  “I’m not worried,” Theresa argued, turning the conversation back toward Debbie’s comment. “And I’m not interested in whatever you found online.”

  “I am!” Debbie and Darcy said in unison.

  Theresa opened her mouth to protest but knew it would do no good. The other women would override her unless she was willing to explain how she felt. How she wanted Jarrett to be the one to open up to her.

  She felt as if she was cheating. She wanted to earn the silent, solitary rancher’s trust. If Jarrett chose to tell her about his past, it would mean...well, a lot more than hearing from Sophia whatever she’d discovered on the internet.

  “It’s not much,” her cousin confessed with an apologetic glance Theresa’s way, almost as if Sophia knew what she was thinking. “And since I don’t know anything about the rodeo, I’m not sure I even understood all I read. I do know that he was a bull rider, and a good one, too. He was pretty popular.”

  “Popular?” Kara questioned.

  “He had some big-name endorsements before he got hurt.”

  “What happened?” Drawn into the conversation despite her best attempts to stay out of it, Theresa’s heart thudded in her chest at the thought of Jarrett suffering an injury. Instant empathy pulled at her and not, she feared, in a professional nurse-patient capacity.

  “He was thrown from a bull.” The other women made sympathetic noises, but Sophia shook her head. “That wasn’t the worst part. Evidently, getting thrown is a normal part of riding. But when he hit the ground, he couldn’t get out of the way in time, and the bull landed on him.”

  Theresa might not know bulls, but she’d ridden horses long enough to imagine the damage an animal of that size could cause. Broken bones, torn muscles, internal bleeding—not so different from the devastation of a car accident. “How badly was he hurt?”

  “I don’t know. There were all kinds of stories about his injuries—everything from how he’d only gotten banged up to rumors that he’d never ride again.”

  “So that was the end of his career?” Theresa couldn’t help thinking about the day at the stables when Jarrett had talked about Duke and how the animal had found new life and a new purpose. She’d been so sure he’d been talking about her, telling her she would find work in something other than the career she loved. And she’d snapped at him, certain that he didn’t have any idea what it was like to have his whole world pulled out from beneath him.

  “You’d think so, right? I mean, who would even consider getting on the back of a bull after that, but he did. He competed in a few more rodeos before hanging up his spurs and moving here about a year ago.”

  “That’s it?” Darcy asked, disbelief and disappointment pulling at her eyebrows as she sank back against the padded booth. “What about his personal life? Ex-girlfriends, ex-wives, anything?�
��

  “No ex-wives that I could find and no real mention of family.”

  He had a half sister, Theresa knew that much, but she wasn’t about to share. And Sophia’s internet search had left her with more questions than answers.

  “Well, at least we know he’s single,” Darcy surmised as if that was the most important piece of information she’d gleaned from Sophia’s research, “so there’s no reason for you not to go after him.”

  “No reason other than that I’m only here for another three weeks.”

  “That’s plenty of time! Give us married and soon-to-be-married women a thrill by letting us live vicariously through your whirlwind romance.”

  “Darcy!”

  The other woman laughed at Theresa’s embarrassed protest. “What can a little fantasizing hurt?”

  “That’s what I thought, too,” Debbie added, “until Drew overheard me at your bachelorette party.”

  “And look how that turned out!” Darcy offered a smug smile as if taking credit for the love match. “Just goes to show what can happen if you open your mind to the possibility.”

  * * *

  The lights were on in the small rental office, Theresa noticed as she drove by. Or make that light—a solitary glow shone out from a front window, seeming to speak more of isolation than welcome. It was late, past midnight, and she wondered if that was the only opportunity Jarrett had to handle mundane tasks like paperwork. During the day, the horses and the stables required his attention. In the short time she’d been at the ranch, she didn’t think she’d seen him slow down or take a break for more time than it took to drain a bottle of water.

  Of course, he was a grown man. Certainly, he was capable of taking care of himself and didn’t need her looking out for him. But knowing that didn’t stop Theresa from slowing the car and parking in front of the small cabin.

  She’d just go in and say good-night. Maybe ask what was on schedule for the morning and see if it was something she and Chloe could handle. It would be no different than a dozen or so conversations they’d had over the past few days. Just because it was after midnight and she felt jazzed from a second wind that came from staying up too late, laughing and hanging out with her friends, that didn’t mean anything would happen between her and Jarrett.

  She’d jumped to the wrong conclusion that first day at the barn. She’d thought for sure Jarrett had been making comparisons about her life, about how she should move on from her career as an ER nurse, when perhaps he’d been talking about his own experience. Either way, he had a better idea of how she was feeling than...well, just about anyone. Her family could sympathize. They could offer their love and support, but they couldn’t understand the pain and loss of having such a big part of her life ripped away.

  Jarrett would.

  And yet—he seemed so at home on the ranch, working with the horses. He fit into this rugged landscape as if he’d been born to it and had never called another place home. But quiet, little Clearville was a world away from the excitement and energy of the rodeo, and she couldn’t help wondering how he’d done it. How he’d made the adjustment. How he’d found the strength to start over with something new...

  Be open to the possibilities.

  Darcy’s words echoed in her thoughts, but Theresa dismissed them. That wasn’t what she was doing. She wasn’t open, and there were no possibilities. But neither of those facts were enough to make her put the car in Drive. Instead, she cut the engine and climbed out into the chilly night.

  Jarrett opened the door almost the instant she knocked, making Theresa wonder if he’d heard the car pull up. If he’d been waiting inside while she debated stopping or driving on. Her cheeks heated a bit and then a little more when he asked, “Everything all right?”

  Logical question considering midnight wasn’t exactly a typical time for social calls. “It’s, um, fine. I just came back from town and saw the light on... Kind of late to be working.”

  “Kind of late for a night on the town.”

  “Not really,” she protested as he opened the door wider for her to step inside.

  “By local standards.”

  “Okay, that’s true.” Most shops rolled up around seven even on weekends, which had made going into Redfield and The High Tide not just the best choice but about the only one for the bachelorette party. Debbie hadn’t seemed to mind as she declared her wild party days over. Not that Theresa believed her. The outgoing, fun-loving woman was bound to keep Drew Pirelli on his toes—married or not.

  “So...you must have had a good time to stay out so late.”

  “Oh, yeah. We...”

  Her voice trailed off as she noticed Jarrett’s gaze travel from the top of her head down to the tips of her toes. She’d pulled her hair into a low side ponytail—about as fancy as she could manage—and had worn makeup for the first time since she’d arrived.

  She’d ditched her jeans and sweatshirts, too, for one of the nicer outfits she’d had the foresight to bring. A tunic-style red sweater that came to midthigh over a pair of black leggings and ankle boots were fancier than typical dress code at the local bar, but she hadn’t felt out of place as the other women had also dressed up for the night. And she was glad now that she’d made the effort. Glad that she could have a conversation with the gorgeous rancher without worrying that she had hay in her hair or that she smelled like horses.

  “We went out for Debbie’s bachelorette party.”

  Jarrett nodded but didn’t comment. He stepped back as she entered the small space, circling around to the desk, where he’d obviously been sitting before she arrived.

  An image flashed in her mind. Jarrett working with one of the horses, keeping his distance and giving the animal room to roam without making it feel cornered or threatened. Was that how he saw her then? Theresa swallowed hard. As broken and damaged as one of his mistreated horses?

  Maybe she’d been wrong before. Maybe Jarrett did see rescuing her as part of his job description and she’d completely misread the interest in his eyes.

  “I should go,” she said abruptly, not caring what he would think about her sudden appearance and equally sudden disappearance.

  She didn’t expect him to stop her, so she was surprised when his voice reached out, halting her as effectively as a hand against the door. “Running away, Theresa?”

  Her back straightened at the accusation, but she didn’t turn around. “Away from what?”

  “Whatever brought you here in the first place.”

  His words were laconic and easy, almost as if he didn’t care one way or the other whether she walked out, as if he did care what had brought her to his door so late at night. But they were also spoken much closer. She might not have heard him move, but she could feel him over her shoulder. No longer keeping the length of the room between them, but not crowding her, either.

  Stay or go... His distance seemed to be telling her. It’s your choice.

  Ever since the accident, so much of her world had been out of her control. The rate of her recuperation, the possibility of her returning to work, her relationship with Michael and her chance to see Natalie and help the little girl with her own recovery. And the harder she tried to cling to the pieces of her life—pieces shattered and broken by the crash—the more they slipped through her hands. She didn’t know how much of it she’d ever be able to put back together, not when so much was missing from what had been before.

  She took a deep breath, poised between flight and, well, not fight exactly, though she wasn’t sure what would happen if she stayed. She started to turn back toward Jarrett when a photo hanging beside the door caught her eye.

  A bull rider captured in midride. Or more like midflight as at least two feet of air separated him from the bull. He seemed tethered only by the rope in his hand. By some miracle, his cowboy hat was still on, pulled low over hi
s forehead, shielding his face, but Theresa knew. Looking at the picture, she felt the same breathlessness, the same excitement, the same connection she’d felt watching Jarrett ride Silver. If she closed her eyes, she was sure she’d hear the roar of the crowd, smell the earthy scent of the animals, feel the tremor in the ground as the massive bull came back to the hard-packed dirt on all four hooves.

  She reached out, halfway toward tracing a fingertip over Jarrett’s picture, before she caught herself, covering the telling motion by straightening the already-square frame.

  “How did you do it?” she asked softly. “How did you just...walk away?”

  “Didn’t. I was carried off on a stretcher,” he answered wryly.

  “But then you—” Theresa bit her lip but too late to pretend she didn’t know what she did. Sighing, she turned to face him. “I heard that you competed again after the injury.”

  “You heard, huh?”

  “Small town.” She shrugged. “You’ve been here long enough to know there aren’t many secrets.”

  Jarrett scowled a little at the thought, but he didn’t appear angry that she’d listened to gossip about his life. She was still surprised, though, when he told her, “At the time I thought it was important that I leave on my own terms.”

  “And now?”

  “Now I pretty much think I was a stubborn ass and as lucky as hell that I could walk away considering what the doctors told me might happen if I got thrown again.” Shadows lingered in his gaze, deep and dark enough to make Theresa wonder about that fall and the extent of his injuries. “Truth is, I went back because I didn’t know what else to do. Didn’t think there was anything else I could do. Rodeo was my life, and if I couldn’t ride...” He gave a half shrug that was anything but casual as he brushed off the loss of his career.

  “So how did you get here? Owning a ranch and running the rescue?”