Barefoot Blue Jean Night

Cole breathed in deeply. “There’s a couple of hundred acres running south of the creek that we haven’t used for years. Tell you the truth, I can’t see it ever being much use to us and …”

Three pairs of wounded eyes stared at him as if he’d just committed high treason. Jesse spoke first, his voice thick with denial. “You’re not saying we should sell McAllister land.”

The door creaked open. They all turned their heads and watched their mother slowly cross the threshold. Her devastated expression erased any doubt that she’d been listening.

“No,” Cole said, the bitter taste of defeat coating the inside of his mouth. “Guess I’m not.” His gaze moved back to Rachel, who had the good grace not to smirk.

2

JAMIE DANIELS PICKED UP the lavender taffeta dress she’d never wear again even if she lived to be a hundred, and carried it to her closet. What had Linda been thinking when she’d chosen the frilly ruffled concoction? And for an August afternoon wedding in Los Angeles? Jamie’s jaw had about hit the floor the day her friend had marshaled her and the other two bridesmaids to the bridal shop to get their opinion.

It wasn’t as if Jamie had held back, she’d been as tactful as she knew how to be considering all three selections had been pretty horrific. Linda had wanted purple and ruffles and there’d been no getting around it. Jill and Kaylee had both tied the knot several months before and had been more zen about the whole thing. Apparently they had the same “perfect wedding” gene, where nothing, not even good taste, was allowed to alter one single piece of the dream.

Sighing, Jamie hung the lavender dress behind the other bridesmaids’ dresses at the far end of her walk-in closet. The blue one she could probably wear again to a fancy cocktail reception, but the other two she’d keep for a respectable length of time and then donate them to a worthy charity to help make some other woman’s silly dream come true.

Good God, when had she become so jaded? Just because she hadn’t given marriage a thought, it didn’t mean the wedding tradition was silly. Besides, she was happy for her two friends and her cousin Kaylee. She was. Really. She just wished she didn’t suddenly feel so damn alone.

She drew in a deep breath, a bit surprised that she’d allowed herself the admission. Of course it didn’t matter, because she’d rebound soon. She always did. She’d learned survival at an early age. Her parents were diplomats. They traveled extensively, which meant she’d traveled, changed schools, changed friends, adopted new languages, adapted to different customs. Her unconventional childhood had turned her into a chameleon.

Ironically, it was during the three years she’d been sent back to the States to live with her aunt Liz, uncle Philip and cousin Kaylee on their Georgia farm that Jamie had had the most trouble adjusting. Mainly because for the first nine years of her life she’d never been separated from her parents for more than a few days. But then the embassy where they’d worked had come under attack and before she knew it she’d been strapped into a seat on a military plane, by herself. And no amount of tears and begging had stopped her parents from sending her away.

She still remembered staring out the window as the plane ascended, watching the gray smoke rise from the city below, convinced she’d never see her mother and father again. Oh, she had seen them all right, a year later … for a mere week before they’d returned to the lion’s den. Though the fighting was over, the tensions had remained high in that part of the world and it was decided she’d stay in Georgia until they were assigned another post.

They’d done their job as parents and protected her from harm. Both of them were crazy smart with Ivy League educations, the works. But they’d failed to see that a child could suffer more than physical damage. They’d chosen their careers over her, and she’d spent three years wondering if they’d found that they preferred being childless. On her twelfth birthday they’d surprised her by showing up at the farm and whisking her away to their new post in Singapore. Two years later she was shipped off to boarding school and her relationship with them had never been the same.

Why in the world was she thinking about all this now? Maybe too much champagne at the wedding reception. She never did care for bubbly, not even the really good stuff, but she’d drunk her share of mimosas because, wow, had it been warm all afternoon.

Pulling her hair off her neck, she moved to the window and stared out at the Los Angeles skyline. She loved her condo smack-dab in the middle of West L.A., even though she wasn’t home much. When she wasn’t gallivanting about the globe, gathering interesting tidbits for her travel blog, she adored holing up for days at a time with a few pints of Häagen-Dazs, leaving only to go for a dip in the rooftop pool or for a workout in the building’s fitness club.

The trouble was, for six years, Linda, Jill and Kaylee had all lived within a five-mile radius of her. One or all three of them would pop over for lunch or lure her out for a last-minute drink at the Beverly Hilton. Now they were all married, relocated to the Valley. Well, Linda hadn’t moved yet, but it was only a matter of time.

Jolted by the sudden ache of loneliness that swept through her, Jamie pressed her forehead to the glass. Her vision blurred a little and she blinked to clear it. Now who was she going to call at one in the morning to complain about a bad date? Or to squeal over a totally hot guy that she’d met at the airport? Who would she take on trips? Sometimes Jill had gone with her to Europe or Canada, while Kaylee had preferred the Asian getaways.

Straightening, Jamie smiled, remembering the Mississippi River houseboat she’d rented for two weeks. She couldn’t recall how she’d talked Linda into that fiasco but, man, had they laughed … so hard sometimes that it hurt. Amazing they’d both survived their ineptness on the water. But in the end they’d agreed they’d had a fabulous time seeing parts of the South they never would’ve seen otherwise, meeting incredible people, eating ridiculously yummy deep-fried food she’d never dreamed would touch her lips.

That particular adventure had elevated her blog to the million-hits level. After that her numbers kept climbing and she’d attracted enough paying advertisers to carve out a nice niche for herself. Only twenty-eight and living the dream. She couldn’t ask for more….

Dammit, she wanted her friends back.

Yeah, she knew she was being a whiny baby, but tough. The girls were more than friends, they’d become her family. Her parents still lived in Europe, and Aunt Liz and Uncle Philip had been great to her, always welcoming her for holidays, or anytime. But her buddies had been her sounding board, the place she’d turned for advice or when she’d needed a shoulder to sob on since freshman year of college. Kaylee was a year younger but she and Jamie had grown so close that she’d followed Jamie to UCLA.

Jamie rubbed her eyes, wishing she were more tired. Sleep would erase some of the edginess. Turning from the window, her gaze went to the handmade mahogany clock she’d picked up in Indonesia last year. Bad enough it was only midnight … she’d been back from Hawaii for three days and hadn’t completely adjusted to the time difference.

Work. That was the escape she needed. Anyway, her blog post was due tomorrow. Unfortunately her next trip wasn’t scheduled for another three weeks. Stupid move on her part. She should’ve foreseen tonight.

Jill had married first, and as soon as the reception was over, Kaylee, Linda and Jamie had headed for the closest bar and gotten tipsy while they retold college dating stories and mourned the passing of their old life. A few months later a former boyfriend of Kaylee’s had shown up. Within weeks he’d shocked everyone by popping the question. Kaylee’s answer had been twice as shocking. Dan had never been on Jamie’s short list of favorite people, or long list for that matter, but she sucked up her disappointment and put on a happy face for her cousin’s sake.

Then it was just Jamie and Linda drinking at the Crown and haggling over where to eat or what movie to see when Jamie was in town.

And now …

She exhaled sharply and quickly flipped open her laptop. She distracted herself by checking comments on her blog, catching up on Twitter and replying to her mother’s perfunctory bi-monthly email. About to tackle tomorrow’s blog post, she noticed the banner ad for the Sundance Dude Ranch in Blackfoot Falls, Montana.

A dude ranch. One of her regular readers had mentioned something about a dude ranch just last week. It wasn’t this ranch, but there was something about the ad that caught Jamie’s attention.

“Huh.”

She clicked on the website link and immediately clear blue sky, gorgeous mountains and tall Douglas firs flooded the screen. In the foreground was a large three-story log-style house with a wraparound porch complete with a swing and rocking chairs. So peaceful and homey-looking. Kind of reminded her of her aunt and uncle’s peanut farm.

Why hadn’t she tried a dude ranch before? It was different from anything she’d done, and she’d never been to Montana, although she’d heard it was beautiful country. Her readers would love it.

Leaning way back in her comfy office chair, she smiled and got busy clicking. She learned that it was a working ranch owned by the McAllister family since the late 1800s, then she checked out pictures of the adjacent national forest and wilderness area and skimmed the list of activities. She already knew how to ride pretty well and she’d gone white-water rafting twice. But there were other things that caught her interest, like rodeos, guided hikes, overnight pack trips, cattle driving and …

And them.

She bolted upright, causing her chair to roll backward on the bamboo floor mat. Grabbing the edge of her desk, she pulled herself in, then peered closer at the rugged-looking, dark-haired cowboys sitting on great big horses. Squinting, she hoped for a better look at their faces. Which was absurd, but it didn’t stop her from trying.

Holy crap, Cole McAllister was friggin’ hot. With his wide shoulders, long lean legs and brooding expression, the man was a wet dream. Jesse McAllister, with his Stetson pulled low, had the smoldering thing down pat. Oh, and she had brother Trace pegged in a flash, despite the lack of detail in the photograph. He was a hottie who knew it, and wasn’t in the market for taming.

Brilliant ad, really. The bad-boys-of-the-West image against the blue sky and snowcapped mountains, so innately gorgeous in those worn jeans and Western shirts they fulfilled every single cowboy fantasy in the book. Jamie would be shocked if the dude ranch wasn’t sold out for the first six months.

But, she was still going to try to get in. The sooner the better. Even though the ranch had been around forever, opening up for guests was a new business for the family. Tomorrow started their second week of operation.

She clicked on the calendar, saw there were two available bookings left, and got out her credit card. Oh, boy, her readers were going to love those cowboys. Hell, she was halfway there herself.

CALM AS COULD BE, Rachel was setting a pitcher of lemonade and a plate of cookies on the porch table as Cole rode up to the house. What in the Sam Hill was she up to? He’d received an urgent text from her while riding the east fence and had ridden hard for nearly twenty minutes to get here.

“Is Mom okay?” he asked, swinging off Tango and jumping to the ground.

“What?” Rachel frowned briefly. “Oh, she’s fine.”

A female guest chose that moment to walk out the front door, and Cole groaned to himself. He’d done everything he could, short of working twenty-four-hour days, to stay away from the place since the first group of guests had arrived twelve days ago. Eight altogether, all of them women. Jesus. The hands were barely getting their chores done.

“Afternoon, ma’am,” he said politely, touching the brim of his hat. She gave him a flirty smile, and he turned back to his sister, not bothering to hide his irritation.

She missed it, too busy showing all her teeth to the guest. “Hi, Kim.” Rachel gestured toward the barn. “Dutchy and the rest of the girls are waiting for you to join them on a trail ride.”

The woman lingered a moment, and Cole could feel her gaze on him, but he’d enter the house with his dusty boots on before he gave her an opening. She finally pushed on, the impractical heels of her city boots clicking down the wooden steps.

He knew the instant he was safe from the blonde but not from his sister.

Rachel lost her smile and glared at him. “You have to start being nicer to these women,” she said in an angry murmur.

“I don’t have to do anything.” He’d given in enough, even helped freshen up the porch with a coat of redwood stain, scraped up enough money to spruce up the barn and kept his mouth shut when Rachel had ordered a wagonload of flowers for the rock beds. “If I wasn’t pleasant enough for you, then don’t drag me back in the middle of the damn afternoon. What did you want, anyway?”

“Do you know how much money we’ve taken in for deposits?”

Yeah, it had barely covered the cost to ready the place. Grunting, he helped himself to a glass and the pitcher of lemonade.

“No, that’s for our guests.” She snatched both out of his hands. “We have six arrivals in the next hour.”

Cole looked up at the ceiling in disgust, noticed a spot he’d missed in his all-fired hurry for the opening day. “Lord, give me patience.”

“You’d do well to pray a little harder.” Rachel offered him a cookie on a small, fancy pink napkin and gave him one of those sneaky smiles that said she wanted something.

He put up his hands, backed away from her. “No.”

“You love oatmeal raisin.”

“No to whatever it is you’re gonna ask me.”

She grabbed his forearm and slapped the cookie onto his palm. “Jamie Daniels is arriving any minute. She’s a very popular travel blogger and we’re damn lucky to have her. If she likes this place, business will boom. I want you here with me to greet her.”

Cole barked out a laugh, shook his head and glanced toward the driveway. No dust coming from the road. He was still safe. Maybe even had enough time to run in for a drink of water and grab a sandwich before he lit out for the north pasture.

“Don’t you dare.”

“What?”

“I know that look. You’re planning your escape.” Rachel’s lower lip jutted out in that annoying sulk. She was his baby sister and sometimes it was hard saying no to her. “I’ve put a lot of time and effort into making this dude ranch work. Can I get a little help here?”

He stared at her, not sure if he was disappointed, surprised or just plain angry. Sighing, he removed his hat and used the back of his sleeve to wipe his forehead.

“Oh, Cole.” Rachel briefly covered her mouth. “What a horrible thing for me to say. You’ve given your whole life to this place. No one has worked harder than you, not even Jesse, and certainly not me or Trace.”

“Enough.” He squinted toward the midafternoon sun. “I’m going inside to wash up a bit, get something to eat. Maybe I’ll still be around when your guest arrives.”

JAMIE HAD OBVIOUSLY made a wrong turn. Odd, because she was good with maps, but she should’ve gotten to the Sundance by now. With a surge of gratitude, she steered the rental car into the gas station that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. Wow, did she have to pee. After that she’d get directions. She had to be close to the ranch but after miles and miles of nothing but blue sky and distant mountains, she wasn’t willing to trust herself, the map or the car’s useless navigation system.

As much as she despised gas-station restrooms—and this one looked like something out of the 1930s—she was in no position to be picky, so she coasted around to the side until she spotted a sign. She hurriedly got out of the car, grabbing her purse and keys.

The bathroom door was locked.

“Dammit.” What the hell … Were they afraid someone would break in and clean it?

She tried not even to breathe as she went around to the front. No sign of life. Two parked trucks, though. Someone had to be around. She couldn’t see through the window or past the ads for jerky and different soft drinks plastered to the glass. The doorknob looked grimy, but she was saved from having to touch it when the door abruptly flew open.

“Looking for this?” A young man, late teens, grinning, held up a hoop with a key dangling from it.

“Thank you,” she said, unceremoniously grabbing it and hurrying back to the restroom.

One stall, unisex, could be cleaner, but she didn’t care at this point. With the tissues she kept in her purse, she covered the seat, did her business, then, while she washed her hands, stared glumly into the cloudy wall mirror barely larger than an index card. She was a mess. Too little sleep the past few nights and then today … getting here had been a nightmare. Two flights, an hour-and-a-half layover, then another hour-plus of driving.

She shook out her wet hands, deciding to use the car mirror to touch up her eye makeup and lip gloss. As soon as she stepped outside, she saw a thin older man wearing dirty coveralls circling the rental car, and appearing far too interested in the luggage she’d thrown on the backseat.

“May I help you?” she asked, hitching her purse strap up securely on her shoulder.

He raised his piercing gaze to her face, his dark brows pulled together in a suspicious frown. “Where you headed?”

She hesitated, tempted to say something about his bad manners. But the lanky young man who’d given her the key rounded the corner of the building just in time.

“Thank you,” she said, returning the key. “Are the pumps self-serve?”

“Pull your car up and I’ll take care of it for you, ma’am.” He smiled, then studiously eyed the other man. “Got your tires ordered, Avery. They should be in next Friday.”

The older man ignored him, his interest still firmly planted on her. “Didn’t catch where you’re headed.”

Jamie sighed and opened the car door. She was going to ask for directions anyway. Besides, the kid knew him. “The Sundance. Do you know where it is?”

He moved his head to the side and spat on the pavement.

She just smiled. If he’d intended to gross her out she had news for him. There were still restaurants on the other side of the world where men used spittoons. “Was that a no?”

“Don’t mind him. I’m Billy,” the teenager said, grinning. “You’re looking for the McAllisters’ new dude ranch.”

“I am.”

“Stay on the road for another five miles. You’ll see a sign for Blackfoot Falls. Take the next left after that. The road’s not so good but you’ll do fine.”

Billy had already started backing toward the pumps so she closed her door, then pulled the compact around the building. She ignored Avery except for a brief glance in the rearview mirror. He followed close behind, but she wasn’t so much afraid as annoyed. The old-timer probably didn’t like tourists. Nothing new there, either. There was always someone fighting the idea of strangers poking around.

She parked and lowered her window. Billy confirmed that she wanted the medium-grade gas, then started topping off her tank, which didn’t require much, but she had used their restroom after all.

“Hey, Billy? Got a question for you.”

He looked up. “Ma’am?”

“My name is Jamie, by the way. Are there any other dude ranches in the area?”

“Nope. This is the first. Only been open a week so we haven’t seen many visitors yet. Heard they’re taking on people clear through the fall, though.”

From behind her, Avery muttered a curse.

Jamie jumped because she hadn’t realized he’d been standing near the compact’s bumper.

“Don’t mind him. He just don’t like strangers.” Billy shot the man a look of disgust. “Pretty sorry thing when I gotta remind my elder to mind his manners.”

“No good is gonna come of that dude ranch business, I tell ya,” Avery grumbled. “This is cattle country. Always was, always will be. We’ve had hard times before and we rode it out. You youngsters are too damn impatient.” He spat again and then ambled toward a dusty dark green pickup.

Shaking his head, Billy pulled the nozzle out of the tank and returned it to the pump. “He’s not the only one upset with the McAllisters.” He took a rag from his back pocket and wiped his hands. “That’ll be nine dollars even.”

“Why?” Jamie passed him a ten, motioned for him to keep the change.

He blinked, not looking eager to volunteer more information. Finally shrugging, he said, “Some folks feel like Avery. They don’t want outsiders poking around. The other half hopes it’ll bring business to the town and no more stores will have to shut down.”

She gave him a reassuring smile. “Everyone is having problems. I travel for a living and it’s not pretty out there.”

“Yeah, I know, but the McAllisters … they’re like … let’s just say everyone was kinda shocked when Cole had to turn away help.” Billy chuckled. “Though not as shocked as when they found out Rachel had talked him into the dude ranch.”

“Rachel … the sister, right?”

Billy’s smile faded, and he flushed. “I shouldn’t be talkin’ about the McAllisters,” he mumbled. “They’re good people. The best.” He backed away. “You have a nice time over there.”

“I will.” She smiled, then pulled back onto the highway.

She found the sign to Blackfoot Falls with no problem and turned onto the road, which after a couple of miles went from rutting pavement to rough gravel. Obviously the dude ranch idea was a recent one or they might have done something about this road. She didn’t care, though, especially when she saw the overhead iron sign strung between two poles, announcing the Sundance.

Jamie turned onto yet another gravel road, and the spectacular view of the Rockies in the background nearly stole her breath. Knowing she was on the right track, she looked her fill. Within minutes she saw a group of buildings, several trucks … As she got closer, she noticed three women, one of them wearing a pink sundress, laughing with a couple of cowboys.

She squinted to see if she recognized any of the brothers, but it was dusty and her gaze got caught on the sprawling house itself. It was beautiful, huge and looked exactly like the pictures in the online brochure. But it was the tall, lean cowboy standing near the porch that had her heart doing a cartwheel.

3

“I THINK IT’S HER because everyone else booked in pairs,” Rachel said, trying to look casual as the small red Ford nosed its way toward the house. She elbowed Cole in the ribs. “So don’t be rude.”

Cole glanced at his sister. “When have you ever known me to be rude?”

“At the harvest dance five years ago when Maggie Johnson pinched your ass.”

“That was self-defense.”

Rachel chuckled. “She thought she was going to marry you.”

“Where the hell did she get that idea?” He tugged down the rim of his hat so he could look without the lady knowing he was eyeing her. No sense her getting any wrong ideas right out of the chute. Only natural he was curious. Quite an assortment of young ladies had been parading around the ranch for the past week. Some real pretty, but most of them kind of silly.

“Mmm, might have been me.”

He turned from watching the Daniels woman park her car and stared at his sister. “You better be joking.”

“We were fourteen when I told her that. She should’ve gotten over it by then and married Paul Haas,” Rachel muttered, and walked toward the car.

Cole stayed where he was, able to get only a vague glimpse of the new guest through her car’s tinted-glass windows. The driver’s door opened, and she climbed out, the sun catching the gold in her tawny hair, which was pulled back into a ponytail.

The open door blocked a good part of his view as she shook hands with Rachel. She matched his sister’s height of about five-five, and he could see the woman had a pleasing profile and the good sense to wear jeans. Boots, too, worn ones—not the impractical high-heeled pointy kind so many of the guests had shown up wearing.