Читать книгу A Rancher of Her Own - Barbara White Daille - Страница 12

Chapter Two

As a shadow fell across the open doorway of the barn, Pete took one look, lowered the pitchfork he was holding and set it against the wall outside the stall. Frowning, he stared at the woman who stepped into his domain.

Technically, he didn’t own anything on the ranch. Still, even the thought of this particular granddaughter of Jed’s coming near the barn left him feeling possessive. Old habits might die hard, but old memories never left you.

He’d heard from Cole that Jane had arrived at the Hitching Post the night before.

Feet planted wide, he rested his hands on his hips. “Can I help you?” He hoped not. In fact, since his conversation with Jed a couple of days ago, he’d kept his fingers crossed that the boss would change his mind about having him babysit Jane.

From a strap around her neck hung a camera that probably cost more than he spent in a year on clothing for him and the kids. Without answering, she raised the camera and aimed it at him, making him feel like a bug under a microscope. Before he could react, she had fired off a couple of shots.

He raised a brow. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but you can stop doing it right now.”

“Just testing the lighting in case I want a few promo shots.”

“You reckon newlyweds will care about the inside of a barn?”

“Atmosphere,” she said shortly, turning to click off a series of photos down the length of the stalls.

Silently, he watched her. Over the years he’d avoided coming in contact with her, his long-distance eyesight must have begun to fail. He hadn’t realized she looked this good close-up. Tall and slim, she had pale, perfect skin he wouldn’t dare touch with his workman’s hands and straight black hair that glistened in the light, tempting him to run his fingers through it.

Every time he’d seen her, she was dressed head to foot in black, and now was no exception. He didn’t get why anyone would feel an attraction for the color, a stark reminder to him of funerals and the day they’d laid his mama to rest. But he managed to look beyond Jane’s taste in clothes long enough to check her out.

Today she wore a pair of jeans topped by a loose T-shirt. The only color on her—if you could call it that—came from the cold strands of the silver necklace dangling almost to her waist. She looked as out of place in here as he’d have looked at an opera house.

When she focused on the final stall in the row, old Daffodil stuck her head through the open door. Swaybacked, bowlegged and cantankerous when she chose to go that route, the mare lived out her days in comfort thanks to Jed, with Pete’s assistance.

Jane gave a throaty chuckle that yanked his attention back to her. The sound seemed to echo in the cavernous barn...and to rattle something deep inside him.

“C’mon, girl. Let’s see the profile.”

“That’ll be the day when you can get her to pay attention,” he said with a grin, trying to shake off his reaction to her.

“I pity the animals you work with, if that’s your attitude toward them.”

His grin slid away. “And what are you, a horse whisperer?”

“Maybe.”

“Besides, it’s not my attitude.” He wondered why he was bothering to explain. “Daffodil’s as high-spirited as they come, but danged stubborn, too.” The words made a picture in his mind of a teenager giving him back talk. “Does that description remind you of anyone?”

She looked his way again. Even with her back to the sunlight in the doorway, he saw her eyes gleam.

She remembered that summer vacation she’d spent here on the ranch, all right—he’d bet the jar of Buffalo nickels he was saving for his son on that.

“You think you’re going to win old Daffodil over to your side, huh?” he said.

“Yes. With the right incentive.”

As she passed him on her way to the stall, the scents of vanilla and spice drifted toward him, light but noticeable enough to set off a craving for something sweet, and surprising enough to make him blink. She’d never seemed the sweet, vanilla type.

She held out a hand. “What do you say, Daff? Want to be a cover girl?”

At the question, Pete’s shoulders went rigid.

The old mare dipped her head, as if giving Jane a royal nod and permission to do what she liked.

Dang, the woman has a way with a horse, after all.

Then he noticed she held her palm upward. “That’s cheating.”

“All’s fair in love and getting the perfect shot.” Once Daffodil took the sugar cube from her hand, Jane stepped back and began clicking again.

“I doubt any newlyweds will want souvenir photos of an old, past-her-prime mare.”

“These are for me.”

He couldn’t keep his eyebrows from shooting up in surprise. He couldn’t keep from needling her, either, and blamed it on those bygone days when a teenager seven years his junior had made his life a misery. “Gonna put them up on the wall in your New York high-rise?”

“Who’s gonna stop me?”

He narrowed his eyes. Then he noted the rueful twist of her lips. She was baiting him. The idea gave him a rush of pleasure he wasn’t sure how to handle.

“So, you do recall all those times you gave me grief.”

“I might have a faded memory or two,” she admitted.

When she moved toward the door, he remained where he stood, watching her silhouette against the bright sunlight.

She turned. “Way back then,” she said, “I was just a kid asserting my rights.”

You’re sure not a kid anymore. He brushed the thought away. “You were being a pain in my butt.”

She grimaced. “That too, maybe. But you can’t tell me you didn’t deserve some of it, considering your new job had swelled your head to about the size of this barn door.”

She rested her back against the frame. Her stance highlighted unsuspected curves beneath that loose, dark shirt, which instantly made his jeans tight below his belt.

Yeah, he’d called it right about her not being a kid.

He hoped she planned to go away soon—not just from the barn but, once the wedding was over, from the ranch and from Cowboy Creek. He couldn’t blame that thought on memories of the past, his desire to get back to work or even the sight of her gazing regally down her nose at him the way Daffodil had looked at her.

No, he wanted her long gone because she’d turned out to be one fine-looking woman. Because she was making him want things he had no time in his life for now. And because she was still too many years younger than he was and would always be the boss’s granddaughter.

Yeah—think of the boss. “That was my first full-time job,” he told her. “I was trying to make an impression.”

“Oh, you did that, all right. I’m glad you didn’t say ‘a good impression,’ because you didn’t come close to one. I don’t like men—people—who think they can order others around. And you definitely had a case of that back then.”

“I was in charge of the horses—”

“Under my grandpa’s direction.”

“—and watching out for them was part of my job.”

“He’s given you another job now, too, so he tells me.”

“Yeah. Playing nursemaid.”

“Thanks, old man,” she shot back, “but I don’t need that kind of help. An assistant is more like it. What’s the matter? Is the job beneath you?” She shrugged. “If you don’t like the idea, I won’t have a problem getting someone else.”

He’d bet she wouldn’t. As long as she managed to keep that smart yet sexy mouth of hers shut, any of his boys would be happy to assist her. He wouldn’t, but turning down Jed’s order wasn’t an option. “I didn’t say anything against the idea. I’ve got no problem with moving furniture around.”

“Good. Then I’ll meet you in the lobby tomorrow morning at nine.”

To his satisfaction, she didn’t seem to be any happier about the assignment than he did.

* * *

IN THE HOTEL dining room the next morning, Jane joined in on the conversation about the upcoming wedding. The bride and groom made the most happy and genuinely loving couple she’d seen in a while.

She relaxed over a plateful of Paz’s breakfast treats. Or at least, she tried to relax. That hadn’t been an item on her agenda in a while. Working seven days a week kept her mind busy and her body active. Lately, having to sit still made her uneasy and all the more eager to be on the move.

Her meeting in the barn with Pete Brannigan had left her uneasy, too.

The cowboy didn’t scare her. With those amazing hazel-green eyes and all those bulging muscles, he was too darned hot for any woman in her right mind to be frightened away. Still, there was something about him that pushed all her buttons. That had made her jump to a knee-jerk reaction every time he’d opened his mouth. That made her snap to attention...

Of course.

Years ago, she had seen how much he acted like her father, an Army general. Yesterday, Pete’s take-charge attitude at their first meeting in years had strongly reinforced those memories, proving he hadn’t changed a bit. But she would do her job—even if that meant working with the insufferable man.

“Don’t forget, Jane—”

Startled, she returned her attention to Tina.

“—we’ve got to go up to Santa Fe to pick up our gowns. We might as well wait till Andi gets here, and then we can have our final fittings together.”

Jane laughed. “In that case, I’d better stay away from Paz’s apple tarts, or I won’t get the zipper closed on my dress.” She pushed the dessert platter a few inches away from her.

“Ally and I are the ones who should worry about that,” Tina said, referring to her best friend and maid of honor. “You and Andi are so slim.”

“You don’t need to worry a bit,” Cole said to his bride.

They smiled at each other as Cole casually draped his arm across Tina’s shoulders.

A beautiful pre-wedding portrait.

But you’re not on the job right this minute.

Despite the fierce reminder, she wished she hadn’t left her camera on the far side of the dining room.

As if she’d heard the thought, Tina said, “I’m glad you’ll be taking pictures at the rehearsal dinner. But the day of the wedding, you won’t forget you’re a member of the bridal party, will you?”

“Yeah,” Cole said. “We’ve got a photographer lined up, so you’ll have the day off.”

“I don’t know,” she said, only half joking. “Sometimes it feels like those cameras are extensions of my hands. I don’t go anywhere without them.”

“Speaking of going somewhere...” He kissed Tina and rose from his seat. “I’d better hit the road, or I won’t be back before lunch with the supply order.”

“Say hi to Ally when you see her,” Tina said. Her maid of honor worked at the hardware store in town.

Once Cole had left, Tina turned back to Jane. “Maybe we need to take those cameras away from you, so you’ll behave yourself at the wedding,” she teased.

“We can put them in my toy box,” said Robbie.

Jane smiled at her cousin’s four-year-old. “Your toy box?”

He nodded. “In my bedroom. Mama takes my toys away and puts them in the toy box.”

“Oh, I see,” she said, searching for something to add. Her work might require she spend her life around people, including children, but she reserved in-depth interviews only for adults. Either way, she didn’t encourage her subjects to interact with her. She wanted to capture them in natural poses and real-life situations. Often all too real.

“Mama takes the toys when I don’t listen,” Robbie explained.

“Oh. Maybe I should not listen, once in a while, too, and then I won’t work so much.”

As if.

She looked up to find her grandfather eyeing her from the head of the long table. Suddenly, she realized some of her uncertainty came from her current “assignment.”

“You and Pete going to get started this morning?” he asked.

“We are,” she confirmed. “But not for a little while. I’m not rushing through Paz’s great breakfast.”

After the photo shoots she had just completed, with three European trips in the space of a month, she shouldn’t plan to rush through anything this week. She deserved a break. Just not one that involved sitting still.

She loved her grandfather and felt more than happy to help with the hotel revamp. Taking a few photos here and setting up the ranch’s new website would be a piece of cake compared to the Sarajevo shoot and other assignments she’d worked on.

She didn’t mind spending a few extra days at the ranch, either, to get some of Grandpa’s photos out of the way—even if the job came with the drawback of having Pete around.

He’d been right yesterday about the way she had acted years ago, about being a pain whenever she went near him.

Long before that summer, she’d already seen how girls’ hormones made them do silly, stupid things around boys, and she had determined never to be like those girls. As an Army brat who had attended a succession of schools overseas by the time she hit her teens, she hadn’t ever met a boy she’d waste her time crushing on, let alone want to go out with.

Not, of course, that General Garland would ever have allowed his daughter to date at that age.

But the year she turned thirteen, on her summer vacation to Garland Ranch, she had run into Pete Brannigan outside the barn. Instantly, she understood why girls did silly, stupid things around boys. Besides, at twenty, Pete wasn’t a boy but a man.

Unfortunately, only two minutes afterward she discovered he was a younger version of her father. Hormones or no hormones, that was the end of her interest.

It was her thirteenth year all over again yesterday, when her first glance at Pete had given her equally silly though much more grown-up thoughts. Yet their run-in and his crack about being her “nursemaid” proved he had only gotten worse over time. If he thought she would sit back and let him boss her around—the way he’d always done whenever she had come near the barn or corral with Andi—he was in for a big surprise.

* * *

TO PETE’S SURPRISE, after he and Jane met in the hotel lobby, they settled into a routine with her doing the directing and him doing the grunt work. Nothing very strenuous, as they’d started in the sitting room just off the lobby.

His job consisted of shifting tables, couches and chairs and putting them back into place. It involved very little talking and a whole lot of looking, which suited him fine.

“Midmorning will be a good time for us to get the common areas done,” Jane had said yesterday. “The guests will either be sightseeing or taking riding lessons out at the corral.”

Exactly where he should have been, overseeing those lessons. Instead, he’d notified all the hands they could reach him on his cell phone if necessary.

The morning had passed much more quickly and with much less bickering than he had anticipated—probably because once Jane got behind the camera, she stayed there.

He stood leaning against the door frame, watching as she worked her way silently around the area.

“I don’t see much of a difference,” he said finally. “And the room always looks comfortable enough to me.”

“It’s a matter of perspective, especially with a static shot. Of finding the right balance between comfort and space.” She continued moving, her gaze on the camera, the shutter clicking away. “For now, we’re looking at still photos for the website and print promotion, but we might eventually shoot some panoramic video. Grandpa’s going all out with his ideas for the revamp.”

“I can’t see anything wrong with the hotel the way it is.”

“You don’t like change, do you?”

“Not much.”

“How do you feel about weddings?”

“I don’t like them at all.”

“Lovely.” She glanced at him. “Then I’d guess you have no plans to be the life of the party at Tina and Cole’s reception?”

“Not hardly.”

“What are the chances you’ll be able to hide your feelings?”

“I’ll manage.”

Camera lowered, she turned his way. “What happens when the bridal suites are refurbished and the hotel starts booking complete wedding parties?”

“Doesn’t make a difference. The hotel guests are all the same to me, and we entertain the guests, period.”

“You won’t make much of a spokesperson for the Hitching Post.”

“Good thing I’m not looking for the job, then, isn’t it?”

She raised a dark eyebrow but didn’t respond to that. Instead, she looked at her watch. “Why don’t we stop in at the kitchen for something to drink.”

Paz was bustling around the room, and Maria, one of the maids, was assisting her. This close to lunchtime, they were too busy to do much but give him a quick hello. He nodded in return while Jane poured a couple of glasses of iced tea and handed one to him.

They went through the kitchen door onto the back porch. Over at the corral, he could see the stable hand grooming one of the stallions.

He took a long swig of tea and leaned against the porch railing.

He could feel the noonday sun warming his back, spreading heat through him. Better to believe that than admit the truth, even to himself. Not that he had anything to be ashamed of with his reactions. Jane Garland wasn’t his type. Her preference in clothing did nothing for him. He didn’t care for her made-up face or her long nails, and her high-tech toys turned him off. But as he’d already acknowledged to himself, she was a good-looking woman—a sexy, good-looking woman—and standing this close to her would get any man overheated.

He gulped down another mouthful of cold, sweet tea.

“I’ll give you a break till this afternoon,” she said. “I don’t want you telling Grandpa I kept you so busy you couldn’t do the job he pays you for.”

“Excuse the pun, but you really focus on your work, don’t you?”

“I try to.”

“How’d you get to be such a perfectionist?”

She laughed. “You’ve met my father, haven’t you?”

“Yeah, lots of times.” He took another drink and wished he hadn’t brought up the subject. Not if it was going to lead to a discussion about their parents.

He didn’t like talking about his mother, who had passed on when he was in grade school. For other reasons, he avoided talking about his dad, the big-shot lawyer.

“Something wrong with the tea?”

The question made him realize he was scowling. “No, the tea’s fine. What does your dad have to do with your perfectionism?”

She shrugged. At her movement, the necklace she wore shifted across the front of her blouse. Sunlight glinted off the silver links, drawing his attention to her curves. Again.

“He’s an Army general,” she said. “That ought to explain it.” She downed her iced tea and licked the sweetness from her upper lip.

Almost without thinking, he did the same. Then he blinked and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. It wasn’t moisture he was attempting to brush away, but a sudden thought he had no business having.

“I’d better get inside and see if I can help Paz with anything. Are you done with that?”

He nodded and held the empty glass out to her. She moved to reach for it, then froze for a moment, her gaze locked with his. They stood so close, it wouldn’t take but a half step to bring their bodies together. Before he could say yea or nay on giving that a try, she stepped back.

“We’ll meet in the lobby again, around two?”

Her tone was cool as usual, but had her voice wobbled just a bit?

Glad to see her return to the house, he stayed there for a minute, leaning against the rail.

Maybe she’d been right to question his ability to hide his feelings. Which meant he’d better work twice as hard at keeping his thoughts—and his reactions—in line.

What he questioned was the flare of interest in her eyes...and the wisdom of testing if it was real or his imagination.