Heartbreak Ranch

by Kylie Brant

  Absently, she let one arm drop to her side and plucked at the blades of grass with her fingers. The trip home from Helena had been the most awkward in her life. The only words Jed had spoken had been to snap out orders. She could have understood embarrassment; she ping-ponged between that and total amazement herself. But Jed hadn’t seemed embarrassed. He’d seemed…angry. No doubt he was beating himself up for not being in control for once in his life. She couldn’t deny that she’d been grateful for the silence, even if it had made the trip seem interminable.

  She wasn’t up to being casual about the kiss. An insect hovered, and she waved it away with a languid lift of her hand. Maybe later, after her memory stopped supplying her with instant replays of the sudden firestorm that had raged through her system. Then they could go on as usual.

  To give them some necessary distance, she’d made sure she hadn’t come downstairs until long after the usual time Jed began his day. Avoiding him might be considered cowardly. She preferred to think of it as cautious.

  After all, it wasn’t as if she didn’t have other things to occupy her mind. The mess in Florida no longer seemed like a dark cloud of doom hovering overhead, but she did have some thinking to do. She was twenty-eight years old, and divorced from a very wealthy man who had every available asset tied up by the drug enforcement agencies, the IRS or a trust. It was a tiny sliver of irony that Marianne Craig had been correct about one thing; Julianne had come home with little more than her clothes, some jewelry and a few other personal belongings.

  She hadn’t planned very far ahead while she’d been in Florida. She’d spent years reacting to each new crisis of Andrew’s. But now she was home, and the details of the scandal were beginning to seem very far away. It was time to decide what she was going to do with the rest of her life. The one thing she was certain about at this point was that Jed wasn’t going to factor into those plans.

  She took a deep breath and released it, a little of her tension easing away. She hadn’t gotten a great deal of sleep last night. And the rest she had gotten had been filled with hard gray eyes, a clever mouth and strong arms. But here she felt more at peace than in the strange hotel room. The air was filled with a bounty of freshness that couldn’t be found anywhere else. The sweet smell of the new grass and the lazy, droning sounds of the insects mingled with the sense of security she always had on the ranch. She let herself drift. Her last coherent thought was that she absolutely refused to dream of Jed Sullivan.

  The pickup jolted over a hidden rut in the field with bone-jarring force. The bumpy journey did little to improve Jed’s disposition. When he’d checked on the men, they’d laughingly mentioned that Julianne had bolted by on the back of a horse. The mere mention of her name had been enough to signal the return of the dull headache that had been riding him for the past twenty-four hours. Common sense dictated that he turn around and head in exactly the opposite direction from the one she’d taken.

  Common sense had been in short supply recently. Certainly it had been completely absent a couple of nights ago. There had been no logic present when he’d covered her lips with his and discovered for himself the intoxicating flavor of that sweet, sassy mouth. And there had certainly been no sense in the desire that had knifed through him once he’d had her in his arms. The feel of that soft body pressed against his had ignited a fire in him that had yet to subside. Which was making sleep elusive, and his temper uncertain.

  Knowing her as he did, he could imagine too easily the speed with which she was riding. Jumping the stream, for God’s sake. She wouldn’t consider the fact that she hadn’t ridden in years. His mouth flattened. No, she was acting in typical Julianne fashion. Spoiled, reckless, headstrong. There was a time when he’d tried to save her from those kinds of behaviors. Had tried to convince her to think before she acted. The way he remembered it, she’d never thanked him for his efforts. Deliberately he drove east, to check on several other hands who were working fence. He did his best to push her from his mind. She’d been lodged there for far too long already.

  The sun read close to two o’clock when he headed back toward the buildings. He hadn’t gone more than a mile when he caught sight of a mare, contentedly cropping at grass. His gaze swept the area, and when he caught sight of Julianne’s body sprawled out on the ground, the blood in his veins congealed. He threw the pickup into park with a speed that had the transmission grinding, and was out of the truck and by her side in one swift movement.

  “Julianne!” In contrast to the urgency in his voice, the hand on her shoulder was a bare whisper of movement. Already his gaze was sweeping her form, trying to detect any injuries.

  Then her eyes were flickering open, and the dazed, drugged look in them was so similar to the way she’d looked after their kiss that his stomach drew up in a tight, painful knot.

  “I thought I told you to stay out of my dreams.” Her voice was slightly slurred, a little petulant.

  “Are you hurt?”

  She blinked a couple of times, then rubbed both hands over her face and sat up. “No, why would I be?”

  Relief fired through his system and unleashed his temper.

  “Maybe because fate decided to pay you back for tempting it all your life. When I saw you lying here, I figured you’d finally taken the fall you’ve always been begging for and broke something.”

  She yawned and worked her shoulders lazily. “I think fate intervening with another nasty surprise at this point would be a little redundant, don’t you?”

  “Why, because you’ve had a few disappointments lately?” He knew his tone was hard but made no effort to soften it. Recent experience had taught him what to expect when he allowed himself to soften toward Julianne. “Grow up and deal with it.”

  She was wide awake now, and spitting mad. “You’re going to lecture me about life? That’s rich. It’s easy to be an expert when you rarely leave the confines of the ranch. When your biggest challenge is having to get up in front of a bunch of ranchers and make a two-minute speech.”

  He simply stared at her, grateful that she’d never know about the biggest challenge he’d ever faced. And just how horribly he’d failed. “We’re not talking about me. It’s time you grew up, Jules. If it took some bad things in Florida to convince you of that, maybe they were worth it.”

  Her lips tightened and she looked away. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I know you. I figure that at least some of the trouble you found yourself in was due to your own recklessness. You don’t seem to have a hint of self-preservation. You dive in to save people without thinking about what the cost to you might be. At the very least, people like your ex will only end up draining you. At the worst they’ll drag you down with them. Like Andrew almost did.”

  She didn’t turn around, but he could see the muscles in her back go tense. “Fascinating analysis. Unfortunately, I’ve heard it all before, ad nauseam, from you.”

  He frowned and reached for a cigarette. Lighting it, he blew a stream of smoke in her direction and narrowed his eyes. “Too bad you never listened. But you’ll listen now.”

  She turned and shot him a look sharp enough to draw blood.

  Imperturbably he continued. “You’re impulsive. You always have been. And not thinking things through can land you in a mess of trouble. Hitching up with Andrew Richfield is a prime example.”

  “You’ll have to excuse me if I find marital advice from you to be a little hard to swallow,” she said caustically.

  “What’s your definition of a long-term relationship, three weeks?”

  He’d had plenty of practice over the years ignoring her barbs. He did so now. “You’re also spoiled, willful and careless.” He drew in a deep breath of smoke consideringly. “I guess that’s natural, given the way you were raised, always trying to get Harley’s attention. But you’re not a kid anymore, Jules. It’s time you used your better qualities and made some changes in your life.”

  The look on her face was deadly enough to mak
e him glad there was nothing nearby she could throw at him. “Better qualities? Don’t tell me you think I have some.”

  He gazed at her through the narrow haze of smoke trailing from his cigarette and wondered with a sense of unease when he had started letting her twist up his insides. “You’ve got a few. Your heart’s as big as all Montana, even though it’s too soft sometimes. You’re loyal and determined to a fault. When you set your mind to something, there’s no stopping you.” He brought the cigarette to his lips and drew in thoughtfully. “You’ve got a good mind, use it. So life jumped up and slapped you in the face. Slap back.”

  “Don’t tempt me,” she muttered meaningfully.

  “You returned to the ranch to regroup. Use that time to make a mature decision about what you want. Make sure you have a plan before you take off again.”

  She cocked her head challengingly. “What makes you think I plan to leave?”

  He said nothing for a moment, just brought the cigarette to his lips and watched her. Of course she’d leave. He ignored the quick churn in his gut at the certainty. Everybody did, eventually. Just as Kimberley had left. His birth mother hadn’t exactly left him, she’d just given him away, when he’d been little more than a mass of burnt flesh and sullen bruises. Life had taught him it was infinitely easier to be the one to do the leaving. Since that wasn’t always possible, the next best thing was not to give a damn.

  He dropped the stub of the cigarette and ground it out carefully. “You’ll leave,” he said with certainty. “But this time you’ll be wiser, more careful. Think before you act. That’s all I’m telling you.”

  She raised her chin. “You don’t know me half as well as you think you do. I’m a hell of a lot more than a half-brained idiot chasing after my impulses.”

  “Good. I’m glad you realize that.”

  “You know something, Jed?” she said, taking a step toward him. “I’m not ashamed of marrying Andrew. I may not have been the best judge of character, but I tried to do the right thing. I don’t have to apologize to anyone for that. Maybe it wasn’t the right choice to stay with him as long as I did, hoping he’d change. Maybe it wasn’t the safe one. But at least I tried. I took a risk. Haven’t you ever gambled on anything? Haven’t you ever played the odds, taken a risk that just maybe wasn’t the smartest, the safest?”

  He watched her unblinkingly. “Sure. The most recent time was the other night on the terrace.”

  He had the satisfaction of seeing the response on her face, her eyes widening slightly, her cheeks blooming with a fascinating shade of pink. And then she brushed carefully at the blades of grass clinging to her jeans. The act seemed to require an inordinate amount of concentration.

  “Oh, that. Well, as risks go, a kiss isn’t exactly dare-devil material. Especially with someone who’s almost your sister.”

  “You’re not my sister,” he said flatly, and studied the renewed burst of color in her face with intense interest.

  “I’m not lying to myself about it. Why should you? I kissed you because I wanted to, even though I knew it was a bad idea. The worst.”

  His words had her eyes shooting sparks, and he paused for a moment, prepared to see her get a great deal more irritated. “I’m used to regarding you as a pest, a worry and a sometimes major pain in the butt. Wanting you was a shock. And it’s not a habit I’m going to allow myself to get into.”

  Her mouth opened, then closed again. He could see the confusion, amazement and fury work over her face. If the emotions hadn’t mirrored so closely the ones he’d experienced in the hours since he’d followed that particular impulse, he would have been amused. But he was dead serious.

  Her voice, when she found it, was lethally dangerous. “Kissing you didn’t exactly make the top ten of my personal billboard chart of smart moves, either.”

  The statement almost made him smile. Julianne in a snit could do that. “I just don’t want you reading more into it than was there.”

  She sighed gustily. “How will I ever get over the disappointment of not bearing your children?”

  “I don’t want you getting sidetracked while you’re here. You’ve got a lot of thinking to do, and that’s where you need to focus your concentration. To keep a clear mind you need to avoid complications.”

  “All those profundities, and still no bubble gum,” she marveled. “You want to be careful, Jed. It’s starting to sound an awful lot like you can’t wait for me to leave.”

  Pulling out his pack of cigarettes again had less to do with a craving than for a sudden need to keep his hands busy. “I’m not pushing you on your way, if that’s what you mean.”

  She surveyed him thoughtfully. “I wonder how I can make you understand. Remember when you changed your name from Templeton to Sullivan? How old were you then, eighteen?”

  He lit the cigarette he’d placed between his lips and puffed. “Nineteen. So what?”

  “I couldn’t understand why you felt you needed to take your birth name back, and you told me…”

  “Because it was mine,” he confirmed flatly. “I wasn’t adopted as a baby, you know.”

  She nodded. “I remember. You were…what? Three?”

  “I was four when I was taken away from my mother, six when I was adopted.” He lifted a shoulder negligibly. “When I was eighteen I asked Kimberley for a copy of the adoption papers. After a few months of putting me off, she finally sent them. I don’t remember much about my life before I went to live with the Templetons.” The statement was not quite a lie. He spent more time than he cared to think about locking away the few memories he had. But that didn’t change the fact that when he’d taken his birth name back he’d taken back a piece of that life. A piece that belonged to him.

  “It was yours,” she said, satisfaction lacing her voice, as if she’d just discovered some deep, dark secret. “You wanted it because it represented a part of yourself.”

  Because she was reading his motives a little more clearly than was comfortable, he feigned disinterest. “So?”

  “So the way you felt about your name is the way I feel about the ranch. I wanted to return to it because it’s mine.” She waved a dismissive hand, as if she noticed a protest on his lips. “Oh, I know it still has Harley’s name on the papers, but my soul is here. I don’t know whether I’ll ever leave it again.”

  Her words struck both gladness and terror in his heart. The last thing he wanted to do was to let her see either of the emotions. “That will be your decision,” he said, not looking at her. “Take your time.”

  It wasn’t until she’d remounted and ridden off that he lifted his eyes. He didn’t deny himself the pleasure of watching her ride away. Her hair flowed like gold behind her where the wind caught it, and she moved as though she were one with the horse she was riding.

  She’d be sore tomorrow. There was nothing like horseback riding to awaken muscles that had been unused for years. He made a mental note to have Annie put some liniment out for her. An image of him rubbing lotion warmed from his palms into Julianne’s taut, screaming muscles flitted across his mind and refused to be banished.

  She’d been right when she’d said he wasn’t a risk-taker. Life had been too full of events over which he’d had no control for him to enjoy giving up that control easily, to situations or to people. And wanting Julianne constituted the biggest risk he’d ever faced.

  By the time she was a speck in the distance, the cigarette had burned down in his fingers. He ground it out absently. The feeling in her voice when she spoke of the ranch still rang in his ears. It shouldn’t have surprised him. He’d always known what the ranch meant to her. It represented just as strong a pull for him, if for different reasons.

  He gazed into the distance and wondered miserably how he’d forgive himself if he was responsible for driving Julianne off the ranch for good.

  Chapter 7

  Julianne braced one foot against the rim of the tub and soaped it indolently. The water was as hot as she could stand it, frothing with bubb
les, and deep enough to reach her chin when she slid down in it. She’d piled her hair haphazardly on top of her head to keep it dry, but already strands had loosened from the careless knot and were trailing in the water. She didn’t care. It felt too darn good to soak like this. She had every intention of staying in the tub until dinnertime.

  She held the washcloth over her leg and dribbled water over it. After a week, her muscles were slowly becoming accustomed to riding again, but they still protested at the end of the day, and loudly. She’d never mentioned it to Annie, but a bottle of liniment had magically appeared on her dresser the first day she’d gone riding, and Julianne had been using it ever since.

  Lowering her leg, she slipped down in the water, resting her head against the back of the tub. The water lapping above her shoulders, she closed her eyes and tried to recall the last time she’d felt this contented, this peaceful.

  She’d been right to return to the ranch, right about the healing effect of being home with people who loved her. She’d divided her time almost equally between Annie and Gabe. For the first time in her life she was actually taking an interest in learning to cook; an interest, that is, aside from the obvious end result. Annie was teaching her, and their lessons ranged from hair-raising to hysterical.

  For a couple of hours a day she followed Gabe around, taking a simultaneous joy and sadness in their time together. Jed had been right. The older man was slowing down. He appeared healthy enough, aside from the arthritis he stubbornly refused to admit to. But Julianne was struck by an awareness of how many years had passed since she’d dogged his tracks as a child. She’d learned a lot since those days, and wasn’t taking for granted one minute of the time she had with him.