Barefoot Blue Jean Night Page 14
She suddenly realized that he was wearing all-dark clothes, probably to enable him to move freely without being seen. While the jeans she wore were appropriate, she glanced down in dismay at her pale pink top.
“Should I change?” She brought her head up and caught movement out of the corner of her eye.
She shot a look in that direction and wondered if the looming shadows had been playing tricks on her. Then she saw them, a pair of gold glowing eyes. She covered her mouth to stifle a scream, but jumped a good two feet.
“What’s wrong?”
“I saw something—someone’s in there.” She pointed, her arm shaking. “Or something.”
Cole pulled a flashlight out of his back pocket and shone the beam at the far end of the barn. A big charcoal-gray cat walked lazily along the top of the railing that ran under the hayloft, its bushy tail twitching.
“Oh, hell, that’s just Luther.”
At the sound of his name, the cat peered over his shoulder at them, and then dismissively swished his tail before leaping onto a hay bale.
“He’s huge.” Jamie’s laugh was high, nervous and annoying to her own ears. “Sorry for the false alarm.”
“Not as big as his brother.” Cole swept the beam of light from floor to ceiling. “Blue’s around somewhere. They stick close to the barn. Antisocial little devils, but they’re both good mousers.”
“You mean, they catch and eat mice.”
“That’s their job.”
“Eew.”
He smiled. “You’d rather have a bunch of field mice scurrying over your feet?”
She groaned, peering uneasily down at the floor and imagining all things creepy-crawly slithering across the toes of her boots. “Thank you for that,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
He chuckled. “Every critter has a job on this ranch. Now make yourself useful and pour us some coffee.”
“Oh, how far we’ve come,” she muttered, sitting on the chair and clamping the thermos between her thighs while she unscrewed the cap. “I’m surprised you don’t have a couple of guard dogs.”
“We did. Not a guard dog. We’ve never had a problem with thefts around here before. Buster was a pet, part border collie, part shepherd. We had him for fourteen years. He’s buried behind the house under that grove of aspens. His favorite shady spot on a hot afternoon.”
“I’m sorry.”
“That’s the way of things,” he said, shrugging, and took the cup she offered him. “We’ll end up getting another dog, but it’s only been seven months. I don’t think either Rachel or Trace is quite ready to take in a replacement.” He sipped the coffee and gazed idly toward the door.
Not for a second did she believe he’d been less affected than his siblings over the loss of their pet. He could put up the toughest front he wanted, but she sensed his grief. Even heard the sadness in his voice and saw it in the slump of his shoulders. Fourteen years was a long time to love someone or something and have it taken away.
“I always wanted to have a dog, or even a cat. Mostly a dog, though, a medium-size one would’ve been nice so she could sleep with me but still go for long walks.” She glanced toward the back. “No offense, Luther and Blue.”
“Arrogant beasts. They wouldn’t give a damn even if they did understand you.” He moved to pass the thermos cup back to her. “Sorry, you want some?”
She shook her head. “Not yet, I just had decaf with your mom and Rachel. You missed some awesome peach cobbler.”
“There better be leftovers.”
“Nope. I polished it off. You missed dinner, so too bad.”
Cole smiled at her. Time seemed to freeze as they looked into each other’s eyes. He lifted his hand, and for a second she thought he was going to touch her. But then he plowed his fingers through his dark hair and turned to study something outside the barn doors.
After a stretch of silence, he asked, “Why didn’t you have a pet?”
“Actually, I did. Two goldfish. Oh, and a turtle when I was about five. Want me to top off your coffee?”
He shook his head. “I meant real pets.”
“Hey, they had names. They were real.” She set the thermos aside and got to her feet. He was studying her now, his intense dark eyes almost daring her to be flip. “We moved a lot. A dog or cat would’ve been too much of a hassle.”
“What about later? When you were on your own?”
“Same problem. I travel an average of two weeks out of the month. It wouldn’t be fair.” She turned away when he kept looking at her as if she’d skimped on the answer. “Maybe someday when I get tired of writing the blog I’ll find an animal shelter and fall madly in love.” Self-conscious, she laughed. “I meant with an animal…you know…that I found at the shelter.”
“Don’t even walk into one of those places until you’re ready. Hard to leave empty-handed.”
“I know.” Jamie sighed. “I’ll have to make sure someone goes with me, armed with handcuffs and duct tape.”
“Duct tape?”
She gave him her best smile. “I can be very persuasive.”
He rubbed the back of his neck, a grin threatening the corners of his mouth. “That’s a fact.”
Delighted with his boyish expression, Jamie laughed. “You are so lucky we’re in the middle of a truce, or I’d eat you up.”
Cole snorted, a stunned look giving way to a groan. “You are truly something else.”
“I like to think so.”
He tossed the last few drops of his coffee onto the floor and then crouched to pick up the thermos. “Any ideas what else you’d do after the blog?”
“Frankly, I haven’t thought that far ahead. The blog has been ridiculously profitable.” She watched him screw the top on, his hands in the perfect spot to catch the muted light. If she didn’t know about the scars they might not have been noticeable.
She wished he’d been the one to tell her the details of that long-ago day. Unfortunately she couldn’t think of a way to bring it up without betraying Rachel and Barbara’s confidence.
“I reckon you never get tired of traveling, so no reason to look for something else.”
“Oh, I get plenty tired at times.” She stretched her arms over her head, arching her back, surprised at the tension she was holding. “Airport security can be aggravating as hell, and then no matter how well I research a hotel beforehand, sometimes I get there and want to pull my hair out. I never mind roughing it, but I want to know ahead of time.” She sighed. “Naturally in my blog I make everything sound like an adventure or make it funny. But that gets old, too.”
She hesitated. “I like your mom. We had a nice chat over coffee before I came out here.” Jamie cleared her throat, hoped she wasn’t about to make a huge mistake. Without being too obvious, she slid a peek his way. “She even invited me to come back for the holidays.”
“She did?”
“She knows my parents live abroad and I don’t have siblings,” Jamie added quickly. “So she figured I might be on my own. Which I’m not usually, and if I am I don’t care…. Holidays have never been that big a deal….” She sighed at the stricken look on his face. Why hadn’t she kept her big mouth shut? He probably figured next she’d suggest she move into his room, and they hadn’t even had sex yet. She hoped she hadn’t just squashed her chance.
He didn’t say a word, just stared. And okay, maybe he hadn’t looked stricken exactly, more surprised. Whatever he’d been feeling, he recovered. No way to guess what he was thinking now. His face was a perfect blank, which further grated on her nerves.
“I’d never impose… Holidays are for family….” Her throat seemed to be blocked again and she fiercely worked at trying to clear it. “I just thought it was nice of her to offer,” she finished lamely.
“You wouldn’t be an imposition. I know my mother, and that invitation wasn’t extended lightly.”
“That’s sort of what Rachel said. Still, I seriously doubt I would take her up on it.” A thought occu
rred to her. “Are you guys going to be open during Christmas?”
“Hell, I hope not.” He clearly realized that might not have been the appropriate response and winced. “We haven’t talked about it. I say no, but I reckon Rachel will get her way.”
“I was just wondering. If you wanted the business, I wouldn’t mind pimping the place on my blog.”
“Pimping?”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s a common term.”
“In the city, maybe.”
“Everywhere.”
A wry resignation touched the corners of his mouth, and he checked his watch. “Time to lie low and keep our ears open.”
Stuffing her hands in her pockets, she hunched her shoulders. “Are you really expecting trouble?”
“It’s unlikely they’d hit the same ranch twice. Noah and I agree on that, but, like he says, if they’re slick and experienced, they might anticipate our expectation and do otherwise.”
“Noah used to be a city cop, right?”
“Yep. In Chicago.”
“But he came back,” she said quietly, mostly to herself. “Just like Rachel.”
“So far.”
She turned and stared. “You don’t think she’ll stay?”
“No telling. Not much here for a bright young woman.” He felt his back pocket as if to assure himself he still had his flashlight and then fiddled with the switch near the door, dimming the already muted flat lights installed where the ceiling met the walls. “Be sure to stay back from the light coming from the house.”
In the past few minutes he’d grown restless, pacing to each of the six windows and squinting into the darkness. She wished she could see his face better because there had been an odd quality to his voice she didn’t understand. Had there been a message for her in his words? Or was she being too self-absorbed? Most likely he’d been talking strictly about his sister and hadn’t given Jamie a thought.
“I wouldn’t mind it if that storm cut loose,” he said, looking out the back window toward the mountains.
“Oh, God, why?”
“We could use the rain.”
“But not the thunder and lightning.”
“Not the lightning,” he agreed. “We’ve had enough wildfires this month. The BLM people are still monitoring one of the burns. It’s already cleared out over three hundred acres. I understand why. Still makes me nervous.”
“BLM,” she repeated. “I should know what that means.”
“Bureau of Land Management.”
“Okay, so maybe I didn’t know what that meant. Not much government land in the city.”
“No, I expect not.” He cocked his head. “Hear that?”
“What?”
“Thunder. Not close. Over toward Big Belt Mountains.”
Jamie wrapped her arms around herself, glad she hadn’t heard the boom, and wishing he hadn’t pointed it out. No, it was better to be prepared.
“You cold?” He came to her, taking her by the shoulders and then skimming his palms down her warm skin.
She drew in a deep breath. “I hate thunder.”
He smiled at her as if she were a frightened child. “Thunder won’t hurt you.”
“I know that,” she snapped, then felt appalled that she’d nearly taken his head off. “Sorry. It’s one of those irrational fears,” she muttered.
He frowned, not angry, but concerned. “Maybe you should go back to the house.”
“No, that’s silly. I’m fine.” She pulled away, and rubbed her hands down the front of her jeans.
Lightning flashed, momentarily lighting up the inside of the barn. One of the cats took a startled leap from a bale of hay onto the dirt floor and darted for cover.
Jamie gasped, knew the clap of thunder was seconds away.
The warning didn’t help at all. When the earth-shattering boom split the silence, she covered her ears. It didn’t make a bit of difference. She was already shaking. No amount of reasoning with herself ever erased that long-ago day.
13
COLE SIMPLY STARED at Jamie. At first he’d thought she’d been teasing him about being afraid of the thunder. But when he saw that she was trying hard, but unsuccessfully, to calm herself, he slid his arms around her.
She started to fight him but he refused to release her. He pulled her trembling body against his chest and rubbed her back. He didn’t say anything, because hell if he knew what to say. Instead he kissed the top of her head and hugged her tighter when she buried her face against his shoulder.
Another bolt of lightning flashed close, and he knew the whole damn barn was about to shake. He hunched over her, hoping he could block out some of the sound but of course it was useless. The loud rumble roared over them like a stampede of panicked mustangs.
Jamie went so still it actually scared him. Then she whimpered. That was it. He was taking her inside the house and giving her a shot of whiskey to calm her nerves. After that…shit, he didn’t know, but he wouldn’t leave her alone. Not like this.
She moved, and this time when he tried to hold her tighter, she struggled to free herself. Abruptly she stumbled backward and caught his biceps. He didn’t try to pull her back in, just made sure she had a firm grip of his arm.
“I’m okay,” she said breathlessly. “Mortified, but I’ll survive.”
“No reason to be embarrassed.”
With a nervous laugh, she released him and shoved the tangled hair away from her face. Except the strands clung stubbornly to her pale cheeks, and he noticed then they were damp with tears. “You have some doozies out here.” Her wary gaze went toward the window. “How long do these storms normally last?”
“Hard to say.”
She gave him a wan smile. “You could’ve lied.”
“Come here.” A slight tug of her hand and she was back in his arms. “We’re all afraid of something,” he whispered against her hair. “No need to feel ashamed.”
“It’s not that I’m afraid,” she said, then sighed heavily. “The first sound is the worst. I have a physical reaction I can’t seem to control, then I settle down fairly quickly. I’m pretty sure it’s some weird psychosomatic crap left over from childhood.”
He shouldn’t be enjoying the feel of her slim body pressed against his. Not when he felt the thrum of a slight tremor down her spine. Though oddly she did seem calmer, even when another thunder clap echoed from the distance. “Has it always been like this?”
“No.” She hesitated, and he got the feeling that she understood the trigger for her reaction. But he wouldn’t press. Everyone had secrets they kept close to the vest.
He rested his chin on top of her head, content to feel her heartbeat strong and steady against his chest. “How about we go in the house?”
She pulled back and stared up at him. “No. You’re on watch.”
He shrugged. “This kind of weather…I doubt anyone has it in their head to go prowling tonight.”
“Why not? The storm is the perfect distraction.”
“People are more alert. Not tucked in their beds asleep.”
“Well, I suppose that makes sense, but we’re not going in on my account.”
Cole smiled at the obstinate lift of her chin. The next loud roar might wring some of the starch out of her. He touched that stubborn chin, then let his fingers trail over her throat, down the front of her shirt. “Inside could be far more interesting.”
She shivered, then laughed. “That wasn’t from the thunder,” she said.
Lightning flashed again. Their gazes met and locked. They both knew what came next. No need to point it out. He opened his arms, and she pressed her body against his just as the sky exploded like a bomb.
He briefly closed his eyes and held her tighter. It was kind of eerie how well she fit, how right she felt snuggled against him. He wasn’t the type who easily let someone close. He was friendly enough, as hospitable as the next man, but in a small community like Blackfoot Falls, a person had to be careful if they valued their reputation.
He’d sooner have a shotgun put to his ribs than admit it, but his ideals were too old-fashioned to appreciate most of the city women who were guests at the ranch. They bewildered him, and sometimes left him downright cold. Maybe his attitude had to do with Bella and how much she’d changed after leaving Blackfoot Falls to make her mark in the world. Every time she returned, it seemed they had less to talk about and the sex wasn’t as good.
Hell, not that he’d turned her down even once. He had needs. She always seemed to have an itch. And for the week or two that she was home, it worked out okay for both of them.
But when it came to Jamie, it wasn’t just Cole…even his mother knew she was different. Inviting her to share the holidays with them was a monumental gesture. As generous a woman as Barbara McAllister was, she could be out-and-out stingy when it came to preserving private family traditions. Rachel had never missed a Thanksgiving or Christmas, and when Jesse had been deployed for those two years, the holidays had been too somber.
It finally occurred to him that Jamie wasn’t shaking so much. He loosened his hold, and she looked up at him. Her face wasn’t as pale as before but the sparkle in her eyes wasn’t back yet.
He lowered his head and lightly kissed her soft lips. “You okay?”
“Much better.” She smiled. “Kissing always makes it better.”
Keeping a straight face, he narrowed his eyes. “Was this whole thing an act?”
“I wish.” She sniffed. “It’s not just thunder, I hate any loud noise I’m not expecting.” After a long thoughtful moment, she said, “When I was nine, the embassy in Bosnia where my parents worked was attacked. The violence was unexpected, and when the bombs went off, everyone went nuts. It was utter chaos.”