Barefoot Blue Jean Night

by Debbi Rawlins

  Hilda added her agreement.

  Cole shifted his disbelieving gaze to the two older conspirators, who gave him small guilty smiles.

  Rachel said, “You didn’t seem to mind her too much when she was bending across her backseat.”

  He turned back to glare at his sister, but damned if he could think of anything to say. So he pulled his gloves out of his rear pocket and started pulling one on. “You can take this bag up yourself.”

  “Wait,” Rachel called after him as he headed for the swinging doors. “Mom, tell him not to leave yet.”

  He brushed past Hilda and his mother, ignoring their soft pleas, determined to escape through the kitchen door. “Women,” he muttered, and refused to look back.

  * * *

  JAMIE DIDN’T WASTE much time unpacking. With all the traveling she did, she was an expert at hauling only what she needed. Besides, she was pretty anxious to see that cowboy again.

  Cole was even better-looking in person with those bedroom brown eyes and sexy mouth. His dark hair was a bit too long, but she suspected it was more due to indifference than anything else. She sure looked forward to seeing him without the hat, although when he’d casually touched the brim in greeting, her silly heart had done a little curtsy.

  Her guess was he’d shaved early this morning, but already stubble had shadowed his strong jaw. At first she’d thought he had a cleft in his chin but then she’d realized it was a small scar—which totally worked for her. The man was the real thing, all right. The kind of cowboy who might star in a fantasy or two. She wondered if a roll in the hay was as uncomfortable as it sounded.

  Rachel had invited her to go on a tour as soon as Jamie had settled in, all the more reason she’d hurried stuffing her underwear, sleep shirts and jeans into the antique oak dresser, then hung up her blouses and sundress to loosen any wrinkles.

  She glanced back at the neat homey room with the queen bed, hand-carved oak headboard, and blue-and-white patchwork quilt. Nice. She wondered how long the furniture had been in the family. Pulling the door closed, she counted five more rooms besides the two she knew were bathrooms. It was kind of weird to be staying on the same floor with the family. Rachel had explained that the rooms over the kitchen had been added to the house during the last renovation and were the designated guest areas but they were full and she hoped Jamie didn’t mind.

  Jamie didn’t, not really. In fact it had to be harder for the McAllisters to have a stranger in their midst. Didn’t stop her from wondering which room belonged to Cole. She was even more curious about his role in the dude ranch. She’d gotten a feeling from Billy at the gas station that this was Rachel’s brainchild and her enthusiasm might not extend to the rest of the family.

  At the top of the stairs, Jamie paused, unprepared for the breathtaking view of the Rocky Mountains. How had she not noticed the two-story vertical window? It didn’t particularly suit the log-cabin style and yet it did because not to showcase the view would’ve been criminal.

  “You’re quick.”

  Jamie recognized Rachel’s voice and looked down to see her approaching from the dining-room area.

  “Yeah, I travel so much I kind of have to be.” She took another step down, her attention divided between Rachel and the view. Against the distant clear blue sky an eagle soared.

  “Amazing, isn’t it?” Rachel had turned to the window.

  “Do you ever take it for granted?”

  “Nope. While I was away at school I’d come back for the summer and holidays and every time I’d be in total awe.” She smiled. “My sorority sisters’ reaction to the pictures on my laptop gave me the idea for the dude ranch. In fact, two of them are coming next month.”

  “Was it the pictures of the countryside or your brothers that got their attention?”

  Rachel let out a surprised laugh, and Jamie truly wished she hadn’t been quite so frank. Especially when an older woman came through the swinging doors with a knowing smile on her face. She had to be Rachel’s mother. Same auburn hair, friendly green eyes, slight build.

  Maybe she hadn’t overheard.

  “So which one of my brothers hooked you in?” Rachel asked, still grinning.

  Jamie sighed. “I was just saying…” She left the last step and smiled sheepishly at the older woman. “Hi. You have to be Rachel’s mom.”

  “It’s Barbara.” She set the vase of giant sunflowers on the foyer table and wiped her palms on the front of her jeans. “Yes, I’m the mother of the whole brood.” She had a firm handshake and warm smile. “Dinner isn’t for a couple of hours. May we get you a snack to hold you over?”

  “Thanks, but I already had a couple of the oatmeal cookies. My compliments to whoever made them. Wow.”

  “I’ll be sure to tell Cole,” Rachel said.

  Jamie blinked. “Seriously?”

  Barbara made a tsking sound and gave her daughter an admonishing look.

  Jamie chuckled, mostly at herself. What the hell, she’d already stuck her foot in it. “You got me all excited. I was ready to ask for his hand.”

  “You have my blessing,” Barbara said, then laughed. “But I wouldn’t count on it.” She darted a look at Rachel. “I can’t seem to get rid of any of them.”

  Rachel rolled her eyes. “Love you, Mom, but you’re full of beans. What would you do without us?” She gave Barbara a quick kiss on the cheek. “Ready for the tour, Jamie?”

  “Ready,” she confirmed, the affection between mother and daughter tugging at her heart. She couldn’t imagine her mom teasing her that way. They didn’t have that kind of relationship. Sadly, they barely had one at all. “Rachel, if you’re busy, I don’t mind wandering around on my own.”

  “Nope, you’re getting a tour. Otherwise, I’d have to help with dinner preparation.”

  “See you two later.” With an indulgent smile, Barbara left through the swinging doors.

  Rachel pointed out the kitchen and the large room with an impressive stone fireplace where guests tended to linger after dinner. At six, beer and margaritas would be served on the porch, dinner at seven in the dining room—with the exception of Saturday nights when Chester, the bunkhouse cook, fired up the smokers and the evening meal was served family-style on the picnic tables outside.

  On their way to the stables, Jamie kept an eye out for Cole. A dark-haired man riding a bay horse left the barn and galloped north but it wasn’t him. Even from the back Jamie would’ve known.

  “The bunkhouse?” she asked, casting a glance at the two men leaving a long rectangular building across the yard. With the door open, a strong whiff of coffee drifted through the warm air and stirred an old memory. The men who worked her uncle’s peanut farm always had a pot of acrid brew going, no matter how hot or humid the weather.

  “It is, but I promised the hands we’d keep the place off-limits to guests. Believe me, you don’t want to go in there anyway.”

  The men saw them and each lifted a hand in a half-hearted wave. Jamie smiled and nodded. “Must be hard for these guys to have a bunch of tourists underfoot.”

  “No, not at all,” Rachel said quickly, then eyed the taller, more taciturn-looking man in his mid-sixties as the pair of cowhands moved closer. “Some of the old-timers are a little slow to adjust, but I promise it won’t affect your stay here.”

  “I get it.” Jamie shrugged. “It’s a working ranch, and frankly, that’s part of the appeal.”

  “I hope you’re right,” Rachel murmured, then as if regretting the remark, glanced at Jamie. “Everything is still new for us. I kind of wish you’d wanted to come later.”

  “Hey, don’t worry about it.” She smiled at Rachel, whom she’d decided she really liked. Had they met in college, Jamie suspected they would’ve been friends. “Look,” she said, nudging her chin toward two giggly young women dressed inappropriately in heeled sandals, brief shorts and halter tops, watching a tall cowboy demonstrate a lassoing technique. “They seem to be having a good time.”

  “Oh, yeah. S
o is he, apparently. That’s my brother Trace.”

  At Rachel’s dry tone, Jamie grinned and got a better look at the guy’s face. She could see now that he was one of the brothers. He was kind of young and good-looking but not in the same league as Cole…who she really wanted to see again. But she didn’t dare ask, not after making that glib remark in front of his mother and sister.

  “How do I sign up for activities?” she asked as they reached the stables.

  “What specifically are you interested in?”

  “As many things as I can fit into this week.”

  “Good for you. How about we go over the schedule after dinner?”

  “Sure, and by the way, I’m not afraid of getting my hands dirty.”

  Rachel gave her a long speculative look, then absently nodded, a slow smile lifting her mouth. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  The stable was cool and dim after walking a few minutes in the blazing August sun. Horses stopped munching hay to curiously study the newcomer. Only a small paint seemed put off at the intrusion and tossed its mane, nickering loudly.

  “Be quiet, Bubblegum.” Rachel stopped at the stall and stroked the horse’s neck. “Mind your manners.”

  Unexpectedly overcome by the familiar smells of fresh straw, leather and saddle soap, Jamie hesitated, reliving that moment nearly twenty years ago on her first day in Georgia. Feeling utterly alone, she’d run from the strange family she’d never known and hidden in an empty stall. They’d found her, coaxed her out, hugged her, soothed her, loved her.

  She shivered.

  Rachel touched her arm. “You okay?”

  “Fine.” She shrugged. “My aunt and uncle used to have a peanut farm in Georgia before they retired. Their stable was only half this size, though.”

  Muffled voices carried from the back where it was dark and shadowed. Jamie couldn’t see anyone but she immediately recognized Cole’s quiet husky drawl.

  “I thought he’d left,” Rachel said absently.

  “Who?”

  “Cole. He’s supposed to be working on the irrigation system in the north pasture.” Rachel picked up her pace. “Cole? Jesse?”

  “Back here with Jezebel.”

  “Is she okay?” Rachel asked anxiously. “She’s not due yet.”

  “She’s fine…still pregnant.”

  The two men stepped out into the dappled sunlight sneaking in through a gap in the wall. Seeing Jamie, they lapsed into a brief uncomfortable silence.

  She slowed behind Rachel. The brothers were of similar height and build, both had dark hair, but Cole’s was longer. Still, they looked remarkably alike.

  Rachel introduced Jesse, who was so cute he even took off his hat before he shook Jamie’s hand.

  “Nice to meet you, ma’am, but you’ll have to excuse me,” he said in a deep rumbling voice, and glanced at his sister. “I’ve got to make a run to the border to pick up a goat.”

  That startled a laugh out of Jamie.

  “His date.” Rachel grinned, and watched her brother shake his head as he headed out. “He works part-time as an animal rescue pilot.”

  “Wow.” Jamie turned to watch him go. “How interesting.”

  Cole noisily cleared his throat. “I gotta be going, too.”

  Rachel caught his arm. “I thought you’d already left.”

  “I got sidetracked.”

  “Are you sure Jezebel’s all right?”

  He briefly glanced at Jamie, and she thought she saw a glint of guilt in his eyes. Maybe the brothers had been looking for a private place to talk. “Go see for yourself.”

  “Stay,” Rachel said. “It’s getting close to suppertime. Have a beer on the porch with our guests.”

  He frowned. “I got four hours of daylight left. I’ll grab a sandwich when I get back.”

  “Come on, Cole, you work too hard.”

  Jamie couldn’t see his face, but she could just imagine the glare he gave his sister as he strolled purposefully past her. “Mind if I go with you?” The words were out of Jamie’s mouth before she considered them.

  Even Rachel looked a bit stunned.

  Jamie shrugged. “I’ve been cooped up in a plane or car all day. I wouldn’t mind the fresh air.”

  Cole stared at her, looking as if he’d been cornered by a rattlesnake.

  4

  “I’M GOING OUT THERE to work. It won’t be a pleasure ride,” Cole said, looking to Rachel for help. He wasn’t about to let Jamie go with him. Not only did he truly mean to replace those pipes that had been leaking, but he didn’t need the distraction.

  His sister thought for a moment. “How perfect,” she said, giving him one of those determined looks that meant nothing but trouble. “That way we can expect you back at a decent hour.”

  Cole glared at the traitor, then realized Jamie was staring at him. He rolled his shoulder to ease the sudden kink of tension cramping his neck. “I think you’d be better off with Shane, one of our wranglers. He’s been giving the guests riding lessons and—”

  “I already know how to ride.” Jamie met his eyes straight-on, giving not so much as a hint of what was going on in her head. She’d be a good poker player.

  “Take Gypsy.” Rachel ignored the pointed warning he sent her with the set of his mouth, and with sheer cussedness turned to Jamie. “She’s that sweet bay mare in the first stall we passed.”

  Sighing, Cole took off his hat and plowed a hand through his hair, then rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t mean to be contrary, but I’ll say it plain. This isn’t a good idea.”

  Her lips parted a little, her expression startled as if he’d splashed her with cold creek water, and then her long thick lashes swept the tops of her slightly flushed cheeks. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I have no business pushing myself on you.”

  “You’re not being pushy. It’s just that you’ve got plenty of time for riding, and you haven’t had a tour of the place yet.”

  Jamie smiled, moved a slim shoulder. “You’re right, of course.”

  Ah, hell. Better that she would’ve played coy…that he could’ve ignored. But she seemed genuinely embarrassed, which made him feel like cow manure. “Hey, if you want a ride, I’ll go saddle Gypsy for you,” he murmured, and settled his hat back on his head.

  “No, Cole, really…” Jamie caught his arm.

  He froze, glanced down at the slim unadorned fingers curled around his forearm. A sudden warmth flooded his chest. The reaction puzzled him. A whole passel of females had been traipsing around the ranch for the past two weeks, a lot of them prettier than her.

  She slowly withdrew her hand.

  “Rachel, get her a hat to protect her face and eyes.”

  “I’m wearing sunscreen,” Jamie said, already starting to back up. “I have a ball cap in the room. Won’t take me but a minute to get it.”

  Something about her appealed to him. Or at least she didn’t make him feel like hightailing it to the broken-down east line shack and holing up for the next week. Maybe it was her wide generous smile which seemed to come easily, or the fact that she had strong hands and sensible nails. He was a practical man. He appreciated those simple attributes in a woman.

  He saw the soft heave of her high round breasts, looked into her clear hazel eyes and felt a smile tug at his mouth. She blinked, and he darted a look at his sister, who was staring at him as if he’d belched out loud in church. “What?”

  As usual, Rachel wasn’t fazed by his abruptness. “Nothing.” She pressed her lips together, but that didn’t stop the corners from twitching. “I have a hat for you, Jamie. Right over here.”

  Cole walked past them, his head down, wondering why the devil he’d given in. He wouldn’t get any work done because he had every intention of taking Jamie for a short ride to the foothills and then turning around in time for her to drink her margarita and eat supper with the rest of the guests. Then he’d ride back out and finish his chores. And just maybe he’d bunk in the line shack after all.

 
* * *

  “I’VE NEVER BEEN to Montana before. It’s beautiful country.” They’d reached the edge of the high mountain meadow dotted with orange and yellow wildflowers, and Jamie wished they could stop, just for a few minutes while she soaked in the beauty of the verdant landscape.

  Cole didn’t say a word. She hadn’t expected him to, nor did she expect him to stop riding. He regretted letting her come with him—that much was clear from his stony silence during the twenty-five minutes they’d been riding.

  “I checked out a map before I came. The western part of the state is flat. I don’t think I’d like that much.” She glanced over at him. “Is this all McAllister land?”

  “Until the other side of the meadow.”

  She tugged down the borrowed brown hat, hoping to shade her eyes from the sinking sun, then squinted at the dense grove of pines climbing the mountainside. Any minute she was going to have to swallow her pride and ask him to stop. She wasn’t a bad rider but it had been a while since she’d climbed on a horse, and ogling while staying in the saddle was becoming a bit too much. Plus she was getting stiff.

  A minute later he reined in his beautiful chestnut gelding, and she wanted to throw her arms around him in gratitude. But then he’d probably send her back to the ranch. She figured the best way to show her appreciation for letting her tag along was to let him have his silence. So she listened to the wind rustle the aspen leaves and inhaled the crisp air, so fresh and clean it seemed almost unnatural.

  “Your nose is pink.”

  “Oh.” She touched the tip, momentarily self-conscious, unaware he’d been looking at her. “That always happens, even with sunscreen. Better than freckles, I suppose.”

  Their eyes met, briefly, before he found something on the side of the mountain to stare at, basically anything that wasn’t her, while he lapsed again into silence. Fine. Maybe he’d already met his word quota for the day.

  She seized the chance to study his profile, guessing that he was in his early thirties. She wasn’t good at judging age to begin with, and the lines at the corners of his eyes, the groove in his cheek, all could be the result of working outdoors. Though whatever had conspired to create that face got two thumbs up from her. She liked what she saw, no doubt about that.