Mile High Madness: Six Colorado Contemporary Romances

by Annabelle Anders

  The driver’s side door opened and long, slim legs emerged. Irritation warred with testosterone induced appreciation. At least she wasn’t wearing heels. No, those delicately manicured feet wore flat little sandals consisting of nothing more than chains and jewels. And was that a ring on her toe? He adjusted his jeans uncomfortably.

  And then the rest of her followed.

  If she intended helping, she was gonna need an entirely different wardrobe.

  Her skirt may have been made of denim but it clung to her bottom as though it was spandex. And her top? A flimsy little lace thing beneath a cropped brown leather jacket. He supposed she considered the outfit ranch wear.

  Even Red seemed a mite suspicious. Instead of welcoming Miss Fairchild happily, as he tended to do with most people, he parked himself on the ground beside Peyton emitting a growl from deep in his throat.

  “Does your dog bite?” At her words, Peyton trailed his gaze upward.

  His mouth went dry.

  Red shiny lips, smooth creamy skin, and her eyes… flashing blue-grey, practically silver. Peyton didn’t care too much for girls who wore all kinds of makeup but dayam, this one pulled it off. Those old photos hadn’t done her justice. Her jet-black hair fell all the way to her waist and when she turned to close the car door, silky strands swung around with her.

  Oh yeah, she looked like trouble all right.

  CHAPTER TWO

  The jacket had seemed like a good idea while driving over in the air-conditioned car. Standing in the heat though, with Peyton Parker glaring her down, it suddenly felt stifling. Her body temperature spiked and she felt a bead of sweat trickle between her breasts.

  Stella ignored her discomfort and eyed the dog warily.

  She’d never had a dog but had heard dogs could sense fear. Hearing the mongrel growl, she clutched her purse against her chest somewhat defensively.

  “Nothing to worry about. Red here wouldn’t hurt a fly.” The owner’s voice drawled lazily.

  Stella shifted her eyes to the tall man blocking the sun. With his face shadowed, she couldn’t quite make out his expression. “Peyton?” She embraced long ingrained manners and stepped forward with one hand outstretched. She held it there all of five seconds before he took it.

  His hand felt warm, and strong and a little dangerous. She wasn’t normally one to dramatize things, but a zing of static shot through her at his touch. Maybe she’d imagined it though. When he loosened his grip, breaking contact, she ignored the desire to check for burns.

  What was her problem? This guy was Corinne’s brother, for God’s sake.

  He stood about six inches taller than her, so he must be right around six feet, but his frame was lean – all sinewy muscle. He wore a button up shirt with the top three buttons undone and a pair of jeans that could have been a hundred years old. As her eyes trailed downward she noticed rugged leather boots planted firmly on the ground. Hmm. So, the men over here really did wear cowboy boots. And the hat, too.

  With her hand once again in her own possession, she wrinkled her nose. Motor oil? Sure enough, he’d left a residue of lubricant on her fingers and palms.

  “You caught me working on one of the tractors. Sorry if I’ve ruined your manicure.” Of course, he’d noticed her – well – noticing.

  Stella shook her head. For Corinne and Misty’s sakes, she would find a way to get along with this Neanderthal. “Just wasn’t expecting it, that’s all. Shall I follow you then?”

  He didn’t answer right away. Instead, just tilted his head. “I don’t suppose you’ve got four-wheel drive on that.” His tone came out sarcastic. But then she considered the ramifications of his question. Her car was her baby.

  “Is the road that bad?”

  He tilted his head again and the sun illuminated one side of his face. A shiver ran through her. Chiseled jaw, sensual mouth. She jerked herself back to reality when he answered. “Not too bad, but that’s a low-profile vehicle. Might bottom out in a few places. You might want to leave her down here, in Jake’s garage.”

  Stella glanced at the building behind them. Sure enough, the sign read Little Store, Gas Station and Barber shop. “Will it be safe?”

  “Oh Sure.” He chuckled and then strode away from her. Presumably to make arrangements with this Jake person.

  By the time her car was parked in what was little more than a shed, Peyton had thrown Stella’s luggage into the bed of the truck and sat out front waiting for her. Reluctant to irritate him further, she rushed over and opened the passenger side door.

  “Gah!” Stella couldn’t halt her startled reaction at the sight of the dog glaring down at her.

  “Hop in the back!” At first, she thought he was talking to her until the menacing creature took a few tentative steps, jumped over the seat back and landed successfully behind Peyton. Not much room back there but the dog looked to have made himself quite comfortable.

  “She sure minds well.” At least the beast behaved his master.

  “He.” Peyton said. “Red’s a boy.”

  Trying not to imagine all the dog hair she would be sitting on, Stella tentatively reached one foot up to the step and attempted to pull herself into the truck. If only her skirt wasn’t so tight.

  She raised her other foot and hitched the denim material up, hoping it would buy her enough room to climb…

  He’d just been sitting there watching her, but in one smooth motion shifted the car into park and pushed open his own door. Before she knew it, those warm, strong, greasy hands were on her waist, lifting her into the seat. “What the hell were you thinking?” His voice grumbled behind her. “Don’t you own a goddamn pair of jeans?”

  She sat on the seat, stunned. Surely now the grease from his hands would have picked up several of the dog hairs and plastered them onto her brand-new blouse. She’d been trying to be nice. For Corinne. For Misty.

  Neither of them said a word as he pulled out of the parking lot and turned onto the main road but Stella was nearly shaking.

  How dare he? By the time he’d turned onto and began maneuvering up a single lane, rutted dirt road, she could contain herself no longer.

  “I’m sorry if I’m not dressed to your standards but your sister needs me. She’s my best friend in the world and when she says she needs me, I’m gonna drop everything and come. I’m so sorry I didn’t stop to consider the appropriateness of my ensemble this morning.” Her voice broke. “It’s just not fair, you know that? It’s not fucking fair.” And then she did what she normally did whenever she got angry.

  She covered her face with her hands and cried. Damnit, why couldn’t she just once not lose it when confronting somebody?

  Peyton stopped the car and shifted it into park. It wasn’t necessary to pull over on this deserted road, they’d not come across another living soul since turning off the highway.

  The only sounds in the cab of the truck were her sniffling hiccups and Red whining in the back. Apparently, her crying agitated the dog.

  And then Peyton Parker’s hand landed on her thigh. Not in a sleazy, creepy sort of way, but in a kind and comforting one.

  “I’m sorry to be such an ass. You don’t deserve it.” He removed his hand, hit the button that rolled down both their windows and then cut the engine. The air felt a little cooler up here. Stella rifled through her purse for a Kleenex while Peyton stared out the window. “She’s my baby sister, you know?”

  Stella hated that he couldn’t stay a jerk long enough for her to just hate him.

  She sniffed and dabbed at her eyes. She likely had makeup smeared all over her face by now.

  “Corinne downplayed it – on the phone – but I know her. It’s bad, isn’t it?”

  He didn’t say anything right away. This seemed to be a thing with him. Delaying whatever he wanted to say by about ten seconds.

  And then he nodded slowly. “It’s already spreading.” His throat worked, as though he had to swallow hard. Inside the truck, he’d removed his hat. His hair was the same color a
s Corinne’s. Dark brown with auburn highlights. It matted down where his hat had sat, and a few dark strands clung to his forehead. His grieving face wore a day-old stubble.

  A few strands of Stella’s hair trailed across her cheeks when a breeze blew through the car. Leaves rustled in the aspen trees along the road and a whistling sound rose from the valley below. Peyton finally turned to look at her. Had he felt her watching him?

  “I’ve known of people who got sick like this. They took the treatments because if they didn’t, they’d feel guilty, like they were letting their family down. Corinne’s gonna subject herself to all kinds of poisons in the slim hope that she can stick around for Misty.” He reached behind him to pet Red’s neck. “And as much as it sickens me to think about her going through all of this, I’d hate it if she gave up.”

  A few crows cawed in the distance as Stella absorbed his words. This wasn’t about her. This wasn’t about him. This was about Corinne and Misty.

  “Okay then.” Stella sat up straight. If Corinne wants to fight it, then that’s what we’re gonna do.”

  And hope.

  He seemed to know what she meant. Wait for it Stella: one, two, three, four, five. There it was, that imperceptible nod of his. “Yep.” He wiped one hand across his face and then pinned her with his gaze. “You okay then?”

  And then one corner of his mouth lifted. Was that supposed to be a smile? “I’m good.” And then she held her hand out towards him for the second time today. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Parker. I’m Stella Fairchild.”

  “Sorry ’bout the oil.” He took her hand again. “And the pleasure’s all mine. None of that Mister business around here. Call me Peyton.”

  “Peyton.” Stella smiled. He might not be so very bad after all. She’d allow that circumstances couldn’t be worse. They needed to stay strong and work together, for there was a very sick woman and an innocent child depending on them.

  Before either could say another word, a vehicle drove up behind them and stopped.

  “Speak of the devil.” Peyton spoke the words slowly as he glanced in the rearview mirror.

  “Corinne?” At the thought of seeing her friend, a gamut of emotions scuttled through Stella. Fear, joy, sorrow… She fumbled with the door handle and then, forgetting for the moment how high up this truck was, stepped right out into… nothing.

  The rocky, dusty road rose up to meet her rudely. As pain from the jolt quickly receded, all she could think to do was laugh. Peyton had rushed around already, this time to kneel on the ground beside her.

  “That step’s a doozie.” He chuckled. “We’ve got to get you out of that ridiculous skirt.”

  Stella’s eyes opened wide but Peyton just shook his head.

  “Stella! Oh, my God! What are you doing?” Corinne had climbed out of her vehicle and run over to join them. It took all of Stella’s self-control not to burst into tears at the wasted figure in front of her.

  Corinne had always been sturdy looking, slim and fit, but the woman standing over her barely weighed one hundred pounds, if that. Dark circles stood out beneath her normally sparkling blue eyes. Corinne looked as though she’d aged ten years.

  Stella allowed Peyton to pull her to her feet before pushing him out of the way to throw her arms around her friend.

  “Oh Corrinne!” And then they both burst into tears. After a minute or two of that, Corinne pulled away and wiped her thumb under Stella’s eyes. “Enough of this nonsense. Look now! You’ve gone and ruined your make up! What’s Misty gonna think if her Aunty Stella isn’t rocking the fashion world?”

  “God, I’m sorry. I know. It’s just, you scared me.” Stella tried to sound normal.

  “You forgot your phone again, Cor.” Peyton handed it over casually. He might have been uncomfortable with all of this but he wasn’t showing it. “I wish you wouldn’t do that. I worry.” He held up one hand. “Even if you weren’t sick, I’d worry so don’t give me any crap for getting on your case.”

  “Bite me.” Corinne grinned cheekily at her brother.

  Stella was an only child. This kind of banter surprised her. And then she glanced around. “Where’s Misty?”

  “She’s at the neighbor’s. Lucky girl. Her best friend doesn’t live on the other side of the state. She punched Stella on the upper arm, weakly.

  Stella pretended to flinch. “Hey, I’m here now, aren’t I?”

  And then another hug. “You are. And I couldn’t be happier.” Corinne took her by the arm and started walking back towards her truck. “Meet you at the house, Peyton!” She hollered over her shoulder. “She’s all mine now!”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Peyton felt like a piece of shit.

  He’d never treated a woman like that before, just been outright rude. Stella Fairchild had driven all the way from Denver, was giving up time to help a friend, and he’d gone off and yelled at her for wearing that Goddamn skirt. Remembering what she’d looked like trying to climb into the truck stopped him short. That tiny piece of denim fabric had ridden to where it just barely covered her. Not only had she been giving him a free-for-all peep show at those legs, but anybody else who might come by. Likely as not, Jake had been watching from inside the garage.

  Corinne had raved about Stella for years and he’d ignored her for the most part. Now, though, he wondered how he would have felt if they’d met under different circumstances. She was probably one of the most beautiful women he’d ever met. – so purely feminine.

  But she was a different species almost. Almost like she’d stepped out of some fashion magazine with the sole purpose of disrupting his world.

  City girls knew squat about ranch life. If she hoped to help out he’d have to teach her an awful lot. And she’d have to get over her fear of Red.

  He had to admit, though, she exhibited more than a little grit. Not grit like Corinne, but something less tangible. She hadn’t turned and run home when he snapped. She hadn’t started bickering with him either. In fact, she’d turned up pretty reasonable about the whole thing.

  Glancing in his mirror, he couldn’t help but notice that the two women were chatting up a storm while Corinne drove. Stella hadn’t expected Corinne’s condition. In fact, when she first laid eyes on his sister, she’d visibly blanched.

  Peyton slammed a fist on the steering wheel. He’d misread all the signs. At first, he thought she was dieting, but then she’d started going to bed earlier, taking naps. Why the hell hadn’t he made her see a doctor sooner?

  Too much to do. Fixing equipment, hauling feed, putting in the new culvert… the list never ended.

  Life sure as hell wasn’t turning out the way he’d thought it would.

  The house was like an oversized log cabin. Decorated with leather and rustic wood furniture, Corinne had accessorized the living room with homemade crafts and patchwork quilts. Everything about it invited Stella to snuggle up with a good book. Throw rugs softened the hardwood floor in front of the fireplace, in the kitchen by the sink, and beneath the dining room table. The open concept layout reflected practicality and comfort.

  Stella wished she’d made this trip years ago, especially now, hearing the excitement in Corinne’s voice. Corinne wanted to show her around, take her on hikes, teach her to ride. All the things they would have done if Stella had come before now.

  Stella wondered if they’d be able to do any of it. Even climbing the stairs winded her friend.

  “And this will be your room.” Corinne spoke breathlessly as she led Stella into one of the coziest rooms she’d ever seen. The entire house charmed her.

  And this bedroom! Stella ran her fingertips along the surface of the antique dresser. It matched both the desk as well as the queen-sized bed. A large window offered a stunning view of the mountain behind the house. “How lucky you were to grow up in such a place. I’m in awe.” Touching the quilt, Stella rubbed her fingers along the hand sewn stitches. “Did you make this yourself?”

  Corinne shook her head, dropping into the chai
r at the desk. “My mom did. I’ve made a few others though – the one on Misty’s bed and one for Peyton.” She picked up a pencil and wrote something on it. “I know you’ll need internet to take care of your accounts. This is the wireless password. I know you’ll still have your work to do but I’m just happy you’re here.”

  Stella turned away in order to regain control of her emotions. Peyton had brought her luggage up and set one suitcase on top of the bed. Stella pretended to fuss with the opening. If she cried this much now… She didn’t even want to think about later.

  “I emptied the dresser for you.” Corinne continued, “in case you want to settle in.” The statement was something of a question. In answer, Stella unstrapped a stack of jeans and began placing her belongings in one of the drawers. She’d make herself at home.

  They chatted about inconsequential matters, reminiscing a little, while Stella emptied her suitcase and set her laptop on the desk. When she glanced at her phone she was surprised to see it was already past five.

  “Supper’s in the slow cooker. Peyton and I started it this morning. Are you hungry?”

  Stella wasn’t. The emotions of the day having robbed her of her appetite. But it would be rude to decline. “I am. And it smells delicious.”

  And then, ironically, with the prospect of a home-cooked meal, her mouth watered. Maybe she was hungry after all.

  Corinne pushed herself up to stand, wincing as she did so. Stella’s heart cracked a little when she saw that. “The guest bathroom’s down the hall on the left. You freshen up then and I’ll help Peyton downstairs.”

  Damn cancer.

  Stella vowed she’d help Corinne through this. First thing tomorrow she’d begin taking over chores – whatever they were. And she’d make sure Corinne ate properly, took her medicines on time – anything to help her heal. Corinne needed rest. She needed to expend her energy on getting better. She shouldn’t have to worry about mundane tasks, not when she could be spending time with Misty.