Big Sky Country: Montana (The Americana Series Book 26)

by Janet Dailey

  He was dressed as she had first seen him, in snug-fitting faded denims, a white shirt, dusty now, accenting his muscular chest, and cowboy boots, the sunlight catching the shiny glint of a spur.

  One leather glove was off and he was pulling impatiently at the other. It was nearly off when Riordan stopped, halting fluidly almost in midstride. The jet-dark head raised, tipped slightly to the side as his gaze focused unswervingly on the window where Jill stood.

  Startled, she started to step back, then realized he couldn't possibly see her at that angle and distance. The glove was slowly removed and folded in the other hand with its mate. Riordan's mouth quirked at the corner as he continued to stare at the window.

  A blush of self-anger at her own stupidity roughed her cheeks. He couldn't see her, but he could see the curtain lifted aside. This was his home. He knew which room the window belonged to and he undoubtedly knew which room had been given to Jill.

  Hastily she released the curtain and saw the amused upward curl of his mouth deepen. Then he was striding toward the house again, the leather gloves tapping the side of his leg in satisfaction.

  Irritated by her own schoolgirlish reaction, Jill pivoted impatiently away from the window. She should have outstared him. She couldn't afford to let him have the slightest edge in any meeting. She wouldn't back down again.

  "What are you wearing, Jill?" Kerry was standing in the open doorway of the bathroom, concentrating on tying the sash of her robe, so she missed the look of anger on her friend's face.

  "The, er, rose crêpe," Jill replied, breathing in deeply to chase away any traces of temper. "It's summerish but not too dressy."

  "I thought I'd wear my yellow flowered dress. What do you think?"

  "It would be perfect." Her smile was taut and unnatural, but Kerry didn't notice it.

  "I'll go and get dressed. Come into my room whenever you're ready," she announced, and turned toward her own room.

  Jill walked to the walnut vanity mirror above the table. A few expert flicks of the brush achieved the windswept style of her hair, tousled like a wispy cloud trailing away from her face in shimmering waves of dusty amber. The pale tan of her complexion needed no makeup, a moisturizing cream provided a subdued glow. A very light application of eye shadow gave a hint of blue to intensify the color of her eyes.

  "Applying warpaint," her reflection teased wickedly. "Yes," Jill smiled, reaching for the mascara.

  At half-past-six, she was ready and helping Kerry with the stubborn zipper of her dress.

  "Do you think we should go down now? It isn't seven yet," Kerry asked, standing quietly while Jill hooked the fastener.

  "I don't see why not. It'll give us time to see more of the house before dinner."

  Kerry hesitated as Jill walked to the hall door. "Do I look all right?"

  "Like a mountain-flower," she grinned in a lighthearted response to ease her friend's attack of nerves. "Come on!"

  They were three steps into the hallway leading to the stairs when Jill heard the approach of footsteps behind them, and her muscles stiffened automatically. It had to be Riordan. She hadn't heard him pass her room, but with his cat-soft way of walking, it was possible she wouldn't. Besides, it was only logical to assume he would shower and change after working all day.

  The desire was there to pretend she didn't hear the firm strides of the man walking behind them. She might have ignored them if she hadn't seen Kerry glancing over her shoulder. There was no choice except for Jill to do the same.

  No silver gray eyes met the sparkling challenge of hers. Instead she saw the darker softness of Todd's gazing warmly at the now halted Kerry. Relief shuddered through her. It wasn't a welcome reaction. She wanted to be more poised and in command than this when she met Riordan face to face.

  Todd's hands were reaching out for Kerry's "You look beautiful, honey."

  "Do you think so?" She gazed rapturously into his eyes. The radiant glow of love chased away all her plainness, making her as beautiful as Todd declared she was.

  Feeling superfluous, Jill said, "I'll see you two downstairs."

  Ostensibly her presence in the house was as a chaperone and companion to Kerry, but Jill didn't intend to turn into her friend's shadow. She and Todd were entitled to be alone once in a while, and Jill was going to make sure it was often.

  At the base of the stairs, Jill hesitated. Glancing to the rear of the carved banister, she caught a glimpse of white-covered table through an open door. Guessing it was the dining room, she walked toward it.

  The open door ahead of it led into the living room. She gave it a cursory glance of identification as she walked by, believing she was more likely to find her hostess in the dining room.

  The oval table, covered by an intricately crocheted cloth, was set with fragile, flowered china and gleaming crystal. A chandelier hung from the crossbeamed ceiling to illuminate the table. A silken fabric covered the walls above the wainscoting, its white-on-white design alleviating the heavy darkness of the furniture and panelling. But the room was empty and Jill was not inclined to wait in there for the others.

  Retracing her steps, she wandered into living room. Her gaze was drawn immediately to the painting hanging above the mantel of the marble-faced fireplace.

  It was a portrait of a woman, a very beautiful woman with copper hair and sparkling hazel eyes. The peach-tinted lips were curved in a breathless smile that embraced life. Yet, despite all the vitality flowing in every slender line, there was a definite air of fragility and innocence.

  "My mother," a male voice said.

  Jill whirled away from the portrait, to face the corner of the room from which Riordan's voice had come. Gray eyes mocked the wary look in her expression as he rose from a wing-backed chair, a glass in one hand.

  He had changed from the dusty denims to tailored slacks of camel tan. The long-sleeved silk shirt, predominantly white with a design in green and tan, molded the breadth of his shoulders and tapered to his comparatively slim waist. The top buttons were undone, revealing dark, curling hairs on his chest. The black thickness of his hair glistened as if still damp from a shower.

  Her rapid noting of his dress was being echoed by Riordan, although his slow appraisal of her was more insolent as he inspected the way the clinging material of her loose-fitting dress revealed her full curves without being blatantly suggestive.

  His aloof gaze was stripping. Jill felt the heat of betrayal warming her face. But she refused to look away even when his mocking eyes stopped at her mouth, as if reminding her of the time he had punishingly possessed her lips.

  "I've heard of pink elephants, Miss Randall, but pink butterflies?" His mouth quirked with cynical amusement. Unwillingly Jill protectively touched the rose-colored material of her dress. "Would you like a drink?"

  "No," she snapped, and regretted her sharpness as a dark brow raised suggestively in her direction. She added more quietly, "Thank you anyway."

  It wouldn't do to lose her temper so early in the evening, and on her first night in his house, too.

  "I must apologize for not being here to greet you and Miss Adams." His low derisive voice was not the least bit apologetic. "I hope you weren't at your window watching for me any extended length of time."

  "I wasn't watching for you," Jill declared coldly. "I was enjoying the view of the mountains from my window."

  Satisfaction glittered in his eyes. He had deliberately trapped her into admitting she had seen him and she had foolishly risen to the bait. She turned away, angry with herself for not being better prepared for this encounter.

  An older woman was pausing in the doorway, wearing a dress of blue gingham with an apron in a matching blue tied around her large-boned frame. Short blue black hair was dulled by a suggestion of gray, but nothing dimmed the alertness of her nearly black eyes shining out of a strongly structured-face as she glanced from Jill to Riordan. This was obviously the housekeeper, Jill decided.

  "Mrs. Benton sent me in with this tray of nuts and oliv
es," the woman explained, walking into the room. "She said you'd be having drinks in here before coming to the table."

  "Miss Randall, this is my housekeeper, Mary Rivers," Riordan confirmed Jill's deduction. "She's a full-blooded Crow Indian, the granddaughter of a war-chief. This is Jill Randall, a friend of the young lady Todd brought home."

  "I'm pleased to meet you." Jill's smile came naturally, prompted by the friendliness in the woman's expression.

  An answering smile crinkled the corners of the intelligent dark eyes. The lines had become ingrained from much use.

  "I hope you enjoy your stay here, Miss Randall." The words of welcome were spoken sincerely—the first Jill had heard. "Despite my ancestry, I seldom 80 on the warpath! After thirty years in this house, it takes a lot to provoke me."

  Jill darted a swift glance at Riordan's impassive face. Mary Rivers had obviously overheard his needling remarks and had offered a discreet word of advice—a suggestion easier said than done.

  "May I help you with anything in the kitchen?" Jill offered.

  "It's nearly all ready," the woman refused, still maintaining her warm smile. "And besides, too many cooks…"

  Her voice trailed away, leaving Jill with the impression that the housekeeper believed Sheena Benton already made it one-too-many cooks. The thought brought a smile she was forced to hide as the chestnut-haired woman entered the room, bestowing a dazzling smile on Riordan.

  "I'd best get back to the kitchen," the housekeeper murmured, and withdrew.

  The cat-flecked eyes of Sheena Benton weren't quite so warm as they blinked at Jill. "Have you been down long, Miss Randall? I'm afraid I was in the kitchen."

  "Only a few minutes," Jill acknowledged. Silently and partly grudgingly, she admired the gold dress that matched the woman's eyes and sensuously hugged her curves.

  Riordan's eyes were watching her above the rim of the glass he held to his mouth. He probably knew his tiger mistress did not like pink butterflies, either, and was waiting for an excuse to claw the fragile wings.

  When his gaze slid to the doorway, Jill followed it, seeing Todd return a lipstick-stained handkerchief to his pocket as he ushered a flushed and radiant Kerry into the room.

  Chapter Five

  THE ODD NUMBER of people had placed Jill alone on one side of the oval table opposite Todd and Kerry with Riordan and Sheena as host and hostess at the ends of the table. Sheena had dominated the conversation with witty anecdotes of ranch life.

  In the main, she had related stories that involved either Riordan or Todd, always subtly pointing out her closeness to the host and silently reminding Jill and Kerry that they were outsiders—Jill more so than Kerry.

  Jill's ostracism hadn't ended in the dining room. She should have known Sheena couldn't have cut her out of the group without Riordan's approval. In the living room, Sheena as acting hostess naturally sat on the sofa in front of the silver coffee service and Riordan joined her.

  Todd and Kerry took the two chairs opposite the sofa, which left Jill with only two choices. One was out of the question since it meant sitting on the sofa beside Riordan. Accepting the china cup and saucer from Sheena, Jill sat in the chair which placed her outside their circle.

  Seething inwardly, Jill maintained an outward air of calm and composure. She was not going to try to force her way into the conversation or draw attention to herself in any way. It would be what Riordan expected her to do. Instead she sat in apparent acceptance of her exile from the group and listened.

  There was satisfaction in discovering that Kerry was no longer being excluded as Sheena offered a series of polite questions about her childhood, college life and studies. Kerry's replies were soft as they always were with strangers, but she answered without hesitation, a fact that Jill silently applauded, knowing the courage it required from her shy friend.

  "Todd, you'll have to show Kerry the beaver pool," Sheena declared, glancing at the brunette after she had given the command. "It isn't far from the house, a nice walk and it's a perfect swimming pool. The water is a bit chilly since it's snow drainage from the mountains, but the setting is idyllic. It'll be something for you to do while Todd is working. You do swim, don't you?"

  "Well, actually, I don't know how," Kerry replied self-consciously. "I never had the opportunity to learn while I was growing up."

  "What about horseback riding? I'm sure Riordan could find you a suitably gentle mount. You'll enjoy an afternoon canter over the open meadow—that is, if you ride?" A feline brow arched inquiringly.

  A hand nervously crept to a dark curl as Kerry darted a sideways glace at Todd. "I have ridden a couple of times, but I'm not very good."

  Sheena smiled faintly. At Jill's angle she couldn't tell if the smile was motivated by satisfaction or polite understanding. The latter seemed, very unlikely. Riordan was leaning against the sofa back, apparently content to let Sheena suggest activities to occupy the free daylight hours.

  "In any event—" Sheena shrugged away Kerry's lack of enthusiasm for horseback riding "—I know there'll be times when you'll simply want to get away from the ranch. I want you to feel free to come to my home anytime. I've extravagantly installed a tennis court in my backyard—it's a passion of mine. If I should happen to be gone, you're more than welcome to use it anyway."

  A reddening pink crept into Kerry's cheeks as she lowered her gaze to the china cup in her lap. "It's very kind of you to offer, but I'm afraid I don't know how to play tennis. You see, I'm really not athletically inclined."

  Jill's lips parted slightly in dawning discovery. How could she have been so blind? Riordan hadn't really been interested in separating Jill from the group to make her feel unwelcome. He had wanted her away from Kerry while he subtly pointed to Todd how little he and Kerry had in common.

  "Good lord, Kerry!" Sheena exclaimed with cutting laughter. "You don't know how to swim or play tennis. You don't like riding. What are you going to do here for a month? You'll go stark raving mad if you spend every day sitting around the house by yourself!"

  "You've forgotten Kerry isn't alone." The cup clattered noisily in its saucer as Jill set it on the small table near her chair. Her blue eyes clashed openly with Riordan's metal gray, letting him know she had seen through his ruse and did not intend to sit silently any longer. "I'm sure we'll find plenty to do to occupy the daytime hours."

  "And I'm more than willing to entertain Kerry in the evenings," Todd inserted, his previously uncertain expression changing into a smile. "Tomorrow morning I'll show you around the ranch so you won't get disoriented if you go for a walk. I'll persuade Mary to fix a picnic basket for the afternoon. The beaver pool would be a perfect place to have it."

  "I'd like that," Kerry murmured, hesitantly returning his warm smile.

  Riordan leaned forward and took a cigarette from the pack on the table. "I'm afraid it won't be possible," he said calmly. His bland expression was directed at the match flame he carried to the cigarette. "I'm shorthanded right now, so I won't be able to let you have a couple of days to unwind from the end of term, Todd. You'll have to be up and out bright and early in the morning."

  "What?" A startled frown crossed the youthfully handsome face. "Why are you shorthanded? Who isn't here?"

  "Tom Manson. I fired him last week for drinking."

  "Tom's been nipping at the bottle for years and we both know it." Todd's hazel eyes darkened with suspicion. "After turning a blind eye to it all this time, why did you suddenly fire him for it?"

  "He was drunk last week and nearly set the barn on fire. I wasn't about to give him a second chance to succeed." The level gray eyes dared Todd to challenge his decision. Except for a slight tightening of his mouth in resignation, Todd made no reply as he turned toward Kerry.

  "I'm sorry, honey. I guess that takes care of that."

  "It's all right," Kerry assured him, her hand finally stopping its nervous twisting of her hair. "We'll do it another day."

  "Speaking of other days—" Sheena glanced at the sle
nder gold watch on her wrist "—it isn't too long until tomorrow and I still, unfortunately, have to drive home. I'll get my clothes and other things from the bedroom."

  Whose bedroom? Jill wondered cattily as the woman rose lazily to her feet. Accidentally her gaze met Riordan's. Something of her dislike of Sheena Benton must have been in her expression, because amusement twitched the corners of his hard mouth.

  Todd unconsciously broke their vaguely challenging exchange of glances by asking what the agenda would be for the following day. The discussion between the two men stayed on ranch business until Sheena reappeared in the doorway.

  "Good night, everybody." Her purring smile swept over all the occupants of the room, stopping on Kerry. "Remember, if you feel lonesome, be sure to call me or come over. It's been a pleasure meeting you. And you, too, Miss Randall." It was added as a deliberate afterthought. Jill's fingers curled. Sheena's catlike actions seemed to be contagious!

  "It was kind of you to be here to welcome us, Mrs. Benton," she answered insincerely.

  Sheena's gaze narrowed for a fleeting second. "It was my pleasure. Riordan—" a winging brow arched toward him "—will you walk me to my car?"

  He didn't reply but rose to his feet. The suffocating tension that had enveloped Jill seemed to leave the room with him. She hadn't realized how stiffly she had been holding herself until she drew a free breath.

  A certain aura of confinement remained, probably brought on by inactivity. Jill knew Todd and Kerry wouldn't object if she left them alone. In fact, they'd welcome it.

  "I think I'll take the coffee service into the kitchen," she announced without receiving any objections in response.

  The kitchen was large and spacious with an old breakfast table and Windsor chairs in the center. Despite the modern appliances, the room retained the old-fashioned charm of the rest of the house.

  Mary Rivers waved aside Jill's offer to help clean up the few cups and saucers, insisting that it wouldn't require two pairs of hands. Jill stayed for a few minutes anyway. They talked without saying anything.