The Rancher--A snowbound Western romance

by Joanne Rock

  Raising his hands, his expression impassive, he said, “At the bar would be fine, if you have just a minute. I’m still on the clock.”

  Her gaze skipped to her table, and seconds ago she’d anticipated resting her bones in that well-worn seat. Now some of her exhaustion had lifted.

  “I can move them if you want me to,” he offered quietly. “After I’ve explained.”

  She had no interest in conversing with him, being drawn to him in any way. Familiarity worried her, yet curiosity won out. To cover her caution, she offered a casual shrug and indicated he should lead the way.

  No way did she want him at her back.

  He gifted her with that brief smile again.

  Such a nice mouth, she couldn’t help noticing. Not that she cared. Nice or not, she refused involvement.

  He turned and headed for the bar.

  Drawing in a bracing breath, she followed. Nice back, too. And forearms. And his backside in those jeans...

  Sterling frowned at herself and vowed none of it mattered.

  No one else sat at the far end of the scarred, polished wood counter, and once she’d taken the last stool, he circled around.

  “Coffee? Cola?”

  “Coke is fine.”

  “I can throw you together a sandwich if you want.”

  In most cases, she refused food when offered to her, but here, from him, it seemed okay—especially with her stomach grumbling. “Sure, thanks.”

  He went through a half door that led to the kitchen behind the bar and returned a minute later with a ham and cheese sandwich and chips. After setting the food before her, he filled a glass with ice and poured her a Coke.

  Sterling realized he must have coordinated this little meet and greet, because one of his workers took over filling orders without being asked.

  Obviously he was up to something—but what?

  Watching her a little too closely, he leaned a hip against the bar. “You don’t miss much, do you?”

  Her gaze shot to his. She had a mouthful and had to chew and swallow before she could answer. “Should I?”

  “No, but few people are as aware as you are.” He opened his own cola, drinking straight from the bottle. “My name is Cade McKenzie, by the way.”

  “I didn’t ask.”

  “I know. But I thought if you knew more about me, you’d—”

  “What?” Panic, maybe anger, sharpened her tone. “Loosen up? Like you more? Get friendly?”

  “Stop distrusting me.”

  Had her wariness been so noticeable? Apparently. “I’m eating your sandwich. What is that if not trust?”

  Her reasoning made him grin, showing straight white teeth, and good God, when he did that, he was too damn gorgeous. The amusement softened his granite edge, made him feel approachable.

  And damn it, it sparked something deep inside her.

  She concentrated on her sandwich.

  “My brother owns a gym in town,” he continued. “You’ve probably noticed him in here a few times.”

  Of course she had. The family resemblance was unmistakable. “He’s younger, different-colored eyes.”

  Nodding at this additional sign of her awareness, he explained, “Different mothers, but we were raised together. I have a sister, too. She’s the baby at twenty-six.”

  “Does she look like you, as well?” She hadn’t seen any women at the bar that she’d have pegged as a relation.

  “Similar features, only more feminine. Same-colored eyes as my brother, but her hair is lighter than ours.”

  It struck Sterling that she was chatting. Casually, easily. When had she last done that? The shock of it put her on edge. “I didn’t ask for a family rundown.”

  “I know. Other than your usual table and an occasional drink, all you ask for is to be left alone.”

  “Yet here we are.” Not that she could entirely blame him for that. She’d chosen to accept the food, the conversation. Nothing would come of it, though. Not more familiarity. Not friendship.

  Definitely nothing beyond that.

  He leveled that electric-blue stare on her. “I wanted to show you that I have roots here, that I’m not a threat in any way.”

  Refusing to lower her guard, she asked, “But why?” She didn’t trust goodwill. A motive generally followed close behind.

  “Because you’re a good customer, a regular, and I get that you want your space—no problem with that—but I thought I could help.”

  Slowly, she ate another bite of the sandwich while considering him. The urge to walk away was strong.

  Oddly enough, an equally compelling urge had her asking, “Help how?” Then she thought to add, “With what?”

  He propped his elbows on the bar, leaning toward her as he eased into his topic. “So your table... I can keep it open for you if that’s what you want. That isn’t a problem. But since you usually catch a nap, I wanted to offer my office.”

  One of the chips caught in her throat, making her cough.

  Thankfully, he didn’t reach around to pat her on the back. He seemed to know touching her would be a very bad move.

  Instead, he nudged her glass toward her.

  It took three gulps before she could catch her breath, then she gasped, “Your office?”

  A big old no to that. Not in a million years.

  “It locks from the inside, so you wouldn’t have to worry about customers stumbling in on you.”

  Would she have to worry about him?

  “I have a key,” he said, using his uncanny mind-reading superpower. “But you could hold on to it while you’re in there.”

  The offer so surprised her that she couldn’t find the right words to refuse him. She settled on shaking her head. “No thanks.” She preferred to be out in the open. Not that the public option always equaled safety—she’d learned that the hard way. But at least this space was familiar to her. She’d memorized it in detail and knew the exits, the number of tables to the door, that the big front window was tempered glass and that Cade McKenzie kept a few weapons behind the bar—but generally wouldn’t need them to restore order if it came to that.

  That line of thinking took her attention to his hands. Big hands. Hands that would feel like sledgehammers if he made a fist.

  No, he didn’t need a weapon. He was a weapon.

  Not deterred by her refusal, he continued explaining. “I only use the office before we open and after we close. Besides my desk and chair, there’s a love seat, a few throw pillows. A private landline.” His gaze searched hers. “You’d be more comfortable.”

  Suddenly, it struck Sterling as funny. Here they were tiptoeing around the obvious: she knew he wasn’t just a bartender. And somehow he knew she wasn’t just a trucker.

  Grinning, she sat back and studied him.

  “That’s nice,” he said.

  Taken off guard, she asked, “What?”

  “Your smile.”

  Stymied by that, it took her a second to regroup. “Look, I haven’t even given you my name.”

  “I’m aware.”

  “But you know it anyway, don’t you?” She expected him to lie, and when he did, she’d have solid reason not to trust him. She’d pay for her food, walk out and drive away—never to return.

  Doing his own thorough study, he let his gaze move over her face as if cataloging each feature...and liking what he saw. “I can’t go into details, or explain, but yes, I know your name.”

  Her heart skipped a beat. He’d admitted it! What did that mean for their association? Part of her shivered with alarm, but another part, a part she’d like to deny, suffered the strangest sort of...relief.

  If someone actually knew her, then she was no longer alone. She existed. She mattered.

  Sterling shook her head. Maybe he wasn’t as good as she assumed.

&nbs
p; Caught between conflicting emotions, she narrowed her eyes. “Fine. Let’s hear it.”

  Straightening, Cade did a quick check to ensure no one listened to them, then casually dropped his research bombshell. “Sterling Parson, but you used to go by Star. You’re twenty-nine, got your commercial driver’s license when you were barely twenty-two, worked for Brown Transportation for a while, then bought your own rig when you were twenty-six.”

  Her jaw literally dropped. Dear God, he knew so much. Too much. She’d been right to fear him—no, damn it. Not fear. Just good old caution, the same caution she used with everyone. The caution that kept her alive. He wasn’t different, wasn’t special, and she couldn’t—

  “My sister,” he offered with grave seriousness, interrupting her private castigation. “She’s a research whiz, and I was curious.”

  “About me?”

  “About you,” he concurred.

  No apology, but an explanation? “You had no right,” she whispered through stiff lips.

  For a moment he looked away while using one long, blunt finger to trace a bead of condensation on his cola bottle. “You can call it second nature.” He rolled a thick shoulder. “Or instinct.” Tension ratcheted up when he looked into her eyes, making them both a little breathless. His voice sounded like a soft growl when he added, “I felt it was important to know.”

  Dazed, confused and, damn him, disappointed, Sterling shook her head. “Now I have to find a new place to go.”

  His focus never wavered from hers. “Whatever you’re up to, Star, you’ll be safer here. Give yourself a minute to think before you react, and you’ll admit it.”

  “What?” she asked with a sneer. “You don’t know what I’m doing? You don’t know why? How...incomplete of you.”

  “I tried not to overstep too much.”

  That made her laugh, but not with any humor.

  “You’re drawing attention when I assume you’d rather not. No,” he said when alarm stiffened her neck, “not from anyone dangerous. Actually, all the customers have been curious about you at one time or another. I don’t think any of us have ever heard you laugh.”

  “You can’t know who’s dangerous and who isn’t.” More than most, she’d learned that it was sometimes impossible to tell.

  Softly, he insisted, “Yes, I can. I know everyone who comes here. You can trust me on that.”

  She snorted. She wouldn’t trust anyone ever again.

  “Right now there are only locals, a few truckers and a few vacationers, but it’s still better not to be noticed, right? In case anyone comes around asking questions?”

  Regret froze her to the spot, leaving her a little sick to her stomach, full of angst. And yearning.

  God, she had so much yearning.

  This bar had begun to feel like...home? How absurd. It wasn’t in any way special, and it wasn’t even in a good part of town. It was just a place where she could relax, and she hated to lose it.

  The location was ideal for her, being only thirty minutes from I-25 with plenty of places to hide in between, and closer still to other venues known for seedier practices.

  She didn’t want to give it up, but what choice did she have now?

  Cade made a small sound of frustration, there and gone. “Your table is empty now,” he pointed out.

  Yes, she was aware of that. Standing, she pulled out some cash to toss on the counter, but Cade stopped her with a shake of his head.

  “This one was on the house. Go get some rest—and think about my offer.”

  She really didn’t feel like leaving yet. Now that she’d eaten, lethargy gripped her. Finally she nodded. “All right, I’ll think about it.”

  “Thanks, Star. I appreciate it.”

  “As you pointed out, I used to go by that name. Now I’m more comfortable with Sterling.”

  “I don’t think you’re ever really comfortable, so let’s not nitpick on the name yet.”

  Teasing again? The man had a dimple. How unfair! He was always so attractive, but now with satisfaction in his gaze and his sexy mouth curved? Devastating.

  She didn’t understand him. She didn’t understand herself with him, either. Rather than let him see her confusion, she headed to the table, ignoring the curious glances from the regulars who knew it was unusual for her to chat up anyone.

  Despite her new caution, the feeling of security remained. Within minutes of sitting down, she dozed off.

  * * *

  CADE KNEW THE second she nodded off. She sat facing the rest of the bar, her long legs stretched out to the chair opposite her, her arms folded over her chest. Uncaring what anyone thought, she slumped in the seat, more reclining than otherwise, let her head rest back against the wall and closed her eyes. Long lashes sent feathery shadows over her cheekbones.

  He admired her nose, narrow with the slightest arch in the bridge; he considered it perfect for her face. Not too cute, not too big or small. Like her attitude, each feature of her face and body was unique.

  Her breathing deepened and slowed, but she didn’t snore. Didn’t go completely lax, either. Hell, he doubted she ever did.

  So much churning wariness probably kept her constantly on edge. He knew it affected him that way. He rarely slept soundly, but then, he didn’t need much sleep.

  With any luck, she’d doze right up until closing time at midnight. Since being a bartender wasn’t really his vocation, he didn’t keep usual hours for the bar. Most in the area were open until 2:00 a.m., but he shut down at midnight and didn’t open again until 4:00 p.m. That gave him plenty of time for other pursuits, and when the two overlapped, he had reliable staff to cover for him at the bar.

  They were only an hour from closing when two strangers entered. The frisson of awareness that settled in his gut told him they were about to have problems.

  Instinctively, his gaze shifted to Star.

  He found her sitting upright, alert, her eyes narrowed dangerously. Well, hell.

  He’d never known a woman so acutely aware of her surroundings. In that, she matched him.

  Didn’t mean he wanted her getting elbow deep in danger, especially not when that danger just walked into his bar.

  Subtly, he drifted his gaze between her and the men—hoping she’d ignore them, that she’d go back to sleep.

  Should have known better.

  While he watched in frustration, she pulled the tie from her hair and let it tumble down over one shoulder.

  Fuck me sideways.

  He’d always known the difference a woman’s hair could make to her appearance. But on Star? This softer look had a near-physical impact on him. The woman had gorgeous hair. Longer than he’d realized, and a rich brown streaked with gold by the sun. He watched as she tunneled her fingers in close to her scalp and fluffed it.

  He would have liked to do that for her. Hands curled loosely, he could almost feel that silky mass.

  When her slender fingers flicked open three buttons on her shirt, he locked his jaw—not that she noticed. Keeping her focus on the newcomers, she parted the shirt until a fair amount of cleavage showed, then tied the shirttails at her waist.

  It took her less than thirty seconds to go from plain and reserved to a total bombshell. The “hands off” signals were gone, and instead her demeanor screamed “up for grabs.”

  Why? What the hell was she planning?

  When she stood, he cursed silently, reading her intent.

  She didn’t spare him a glance. No, she’d forgotten all about him, and that nettled, because she’d been his first thought when he saw the two men.

  The second she stood, she caught their attention. Wearing a flirty smile, she sauntered toward them.

  Cade seriously wanted to demolish them both simply for the way they looked at her.

  When she reached the bigger of the two men, she asked, “Got a ciga
rette?”

  The guy sized her up in an insultingly thorough way, then pulled the pack from his front T-shirt pocket, shook one loose and offered it to her.

  Maintaining eye contact, she leaned down and slowly slipped a cigarette free.

  Both men looked down her shirt.

  The second guy asked, “Light?”

  “I have my own outside, but thank you.” She sashayed out the door, and it wasn’t just the two new guys watching her. Every man in the place had his fascinated gaze glued to her ass.

  Shit. Cade quickly, but casually, directed others to cover the bar. Pretending he needed a break, he went down the hall and into the private office he’d offered for her use. After relocking the door, he went to the single window in the room, opened it and hoisted himself up and out. It was an awkward fit for a man his size, but he’d practiced before, ensuring he had multiple exits if it ever became necessary.

  He considered watching Star’s back very necessary.

  Circling around the bar on silent feet, he listened. Her boots crunched on the gravel, guiding him. She didn’t go to her rig, but then, maybe she didn’t want them to know which truck was hers.

  Smart—except that they could ask anyone in the bar about her, and that would be one of the first things they learned.

  Cade leaned around the corner, still hidden by shadows but able to see her. She hadn’t lit the cigarette, but she kept it dangling between her lips.

  What are you up to?

  She glanced several times at the entrance, and when the doors finally opened, she made a show of frustration.

  The one who’d offered a light smiled. “Couldn’t find your lighter after all?”

  She shook her head, sending that wealth of thick hair to move around her breasts. Wearing a sexy pout, she asked, “Did you bring one out with you?”

  He produced the lighter, then teased her with, “Say please.”

  Taking the cigarette from her lips, she gave him a tight smile. “Really? Because there are twenty men inside who would be glad to give me a light—without stipulations.”

  “Seems to me you don’t like them, or you’d have gone to them for the cigarette.”

  Her lips curled. “You think you know what I like?”