Barefoot Blue Jean Night Page 3

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 fightin
g 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.

  Rachel indicated the parking area on the east side of the barn, and the woman lifted her hand to shade her eyes. No flash of some god-awful color on her fingernails. Already she’d risen in his esteem, but that didn’t mean he’d offer more than this meet-and-greet. He’d made it clear from the get-go. The dude ranch was Rachel’s baby. He had better things to do.

  Stepping away from the car, Rachel waved him over. His reluctance ebbed when she motioned to the trunk and he realized she wanted his help carrying in luggage. Adjusting his hat, he strolled over, wishing he’d changed his dusty blue work shirt. He almost stumbled at the errant thought. Hell, he’d insisted Rachel advertise the place as a working ranch and since he seemed to be the only person at the Sundance paying more attention to the cattle than the females, he wasn’t about to put on airs.

  “Jamie, this is my brother, Cole. He’s the oldest, a bit ornery and stubborn, but a real nice guy when you get to know him.”

  Cole tightened his jaw, did his fair best not to react. But he and sis needed to have another little talk. Though Rachel’s light laugh said she already knew she’d irritated him.

  Their new guest laughed, too. “I don’t have any brothers but I’m guessing you just earned yourself an earful.” She offered him her hand just as she had done with Rachel. “I’m Jamie Daniels, and I’m looking forward to getting to know you, Cole McAllister.”

  That wouldn’t happen. “Pleased to meet you, ma’am.” He touched the brim of his hat, then pressed his palm to hers, which was soft and small while his was rough and callused.

  She held on a few seconds longer than he expected. “Did you know that in ancient times men shook hands to show they weren’t hiding a weapon?” Her hazel eyes sparkled with mischief. She let go, lifted her hands, palms out, and glanced down at herself. “Not carrying, promise, no need to call me ma’am.”

  Cole blinked; that was the best he could do to keep from staring at the tempting swell of her breasts, the small waist, flat belly, the way her hips curved out enough to fill a man’s hands when he took her…

  “Sure…” He silently cleared his dry throat, moved a cautious step away. “Jamie, uh, you wanna pop the trunk?”

  “Everything I brought is right here.” She opened the back door, then leaned in to grab a duffel-style leather bag.

  His gaze went straight to her shapely backside. It wasn’t as if he’d had a choice. The way she was bending over, her hind end angled up…and he was a man, after all. The sudden feeling that he was being watched made him glance over to see Rachel standing by the hood, regarding him with wide-eyed curiosity.

  He sent her a warning look, then shifted his attention back to getting her guest inside so he could be on his way. “Let me get that,” he said, and received a shock all the way to his toes when unthinkingly he nearly grabbed Jamie by the hips to move her aside.

  Christ almighty.

&n
bsp; He jumped back, waited for her to get clear. “Maybe you wouldn’t mind moving the car while I take your bag inside,” he murmured, and out of the corner of his eye caught her smile.

  “Will do. Thanks.”

  “You know which room?” Rachel asked as he lifted the bag from the backseat.

  He didn’t like the devilish tone of her voice. “No, you’d better come show me.”

  “After I move the car,” Jamie said, “I’ll meet you inside, if that’s all right?”

  “Perfect.” Rachel hitched a thumb over her shoulder. “There’s cold lemonade and cookies on the porch. Help yourself, then come on in.”

  Cole hefted the bag and closed the car door. Rachel trailed him inside, and when he headed for the kitchen stairs that their housekeeper, Hilda, and the guests used, Rachel stopped him.

  “I gave Jamie the room next to yours,” she said, then breezily passed him as if the change of plans didn’t matter.

  “You hold on there.” He stood stubbornly in the big foyer, and waited for her to face him.

  She’d already made it partway up the main staircase but she turned, her expression all innocence.

  “You’re already reneging on our deal?”

  “What deal?”

  “Dammit, Rachel.” He set down the bag, exhaled sharply. “We agreed no guests in the main part of the house.”

  “Yes, we did. But number one, we’re full, and number two, this is Jamie Daniels we’re talking about.” Rachel’s gaze drifted to the window, and then, in a muted voice, she added, “We can’t talk about this now.”

  “And you had the nerve to call me ornery? You sneaky little cuss. If you think you’re gonna bushwhack me like this—”

  “What’s going on?” Hilda pushed through the swinging doors between the dining room and kitchen.

  Barbara McAllister was right behind her. “You two hush up. We have guests.”

  “A fact about which I’m painfully aware.” Cole dialed down his tone but continued to glare at Rachel. “This little pipsqueak has taken it in her mind to give up the family’s privacy.”

  After a short silence, his mother sniffed and quietly said, “It is Jamie Daniels, after all.”