Читать книгу Barefoot Blue Jean Night - Debbi Rawlins, Debbi Rawlins - Страница 9

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“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.

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.”

Hilda added her agreement.

Cole shifted his disbelieving gaze to the two older conspirators, who gave him small guilty smiles.

Rachel said, “You didn’t seem to mind her too much when she was bending across her backseat.”

He turned back to glare at his sister, but damned if he could think of anything to say. So he pulled his gloves out of his rear pocket and started pulling one on. “You can take this bag up yourself.”

“Wait,” Rachel called after him as he headed for the swinging doors. “Mom, tell him not to leave yet.”

He brushed past Hilda and his mother, ignoring their soft pleas, determined to escape through the kitchen door. “Women,” he muttered, and refused to look back.

JAMIE DIDN’T WASTE much time unpacking. With all the traveling she did, she was an expert at hauling only what she needed. Besides, she was pretty anxious to see that cowboy again.

Cole was even better-looking in person with those bedroom brown eyes and sexy mouth. His dark hair was a bit too long, but she suspected it was more due to indifference than anything else. She sure looked forward to seeing him without the hat, although when he’d casually touched the brim in greeting, her silly heart had done a little curtsy.

Her guess was he’d shaved early this morning, but already stubble had shadowed his strong jaw. At first she’d thought he had a cleft in his chin but then she’d realized it was a small scar—which totally worked for her. The man was the real thing, all right. The kind of cowboy who might star in a fantasy or two. She wondered if a roll in the hay was as uncomfortable as it sounded.

Rachel had invited her to go on a tour as soon as Jamie had settled in, all the more reason she’d hurried stuffing her underwear, sleep shirts and jeans into the antique oak dresser, then hung up her blouses and sundress to loosen any wrinkles.

She glanced back at the neat homey room with the queen bed, hand-carved oak headboard, and blue-and-white patchwork quilt. Nice. She wondered how long the furniture had been in the family. Pulling the door closed, she counted five more rooms besides the two she knew were bathrooms. It was kind of weird to be staying on the same floor with the family. Rachel had explained that the rooms over the kitchen had been added to the house during the last renovation and were the designated guest areas but they were full and she hoped Jamie didn’t mind.

Jamie didn’t, not really. In fact it had to be harder for the McAllisters to have a stranger in their midst. Didn’t stop her from wondering which room belonged to Cole. She was even more curious about his role in the dude ranch. She’d gotten a feeling from Billy at the gas station that this was Rachel’s brainchild and her enthusiasm might not extend to the rest of the family.

At the top of the stairs, Jamie paused, unprepared for the breathtaking view of the Rocky Mountains. How had she not noticed the two-story vertical window? It didn’t particularly suit the log-cabin style and yet it did because not to showcase the view would’ve been criminal.

“You’re quick.”

Jamie recognized Rachel’s voice and looked down to see her approaching from the dining-room area.

“Yeah, I travel so much I kind of have to be.” She took another step down, her attention divided between Rachel and the view. Against the distant clear blue sky an eagle soared.

“Amazing, isn’t it?” Rachel had turned to the window.

“Do you ever take it for granted?”

“Nope. While I was away at school I’d come back for the summer and holidays and every time I’d be in total awe.” She smiled. “My sorority sisters’ reaction to the pictures on my laptop gave me the idea for the dude ranch. In fact, two of them are coming next month.”

“Was it the pictures of the countryside or your brothers that got their attention?”

Rachel let out a surprised laugh, and Jamie truly wished she hadn’t been quite so frank. Especially when an older woman came through the swinging doors with a knowing smile on her face. She had to be Rachel’s mother. Same auburn hair, friendly green eyes, slight build.

Maybe she hadn’t overheard.

“So which one of my brothers hooked you in?” Rachel asked, still grinning.

Jamie sighed. “I was just saying …” She left the last step and smiled sheepishly at the older woman. “Hi. You have to be Rachel’s mom.”

“It’s Barbara.” She set the vase of giant sunflowers on the foyer table and wiped her palms on the front of her jeans. “Yes, I’m the mother of the whole brood.” She had a firm handshake and warm smile. “Dinner isn’t for a couple of hours. May we get you a snack to hold you over?”

“Thanks, but I already had a couple of the oatmeal cookies. My compliments to whoever made them. Wow.”

“I’ll be sure to tell Cole,” Rachel said.

Jamie blinked. “Seriously?”

Barbara made a tsking sound and gave her daughter an admonishing look.

Jamie chuckled, mostly at herself. What the hell, she’d already stuck her foot in it. “You got me all excited. I was ready to ask for his hand.”

“You have my blessing,” Barbara said, then laughed. “But I wouldn’t count on it.” She darted a look at Rachel. “I can’t seem to get rid of any of them.”

Rachel rolled her eyes. “Love you, Mom, but you’re full of beans. What would you do without us?” She gave Barbara a quick kiss on the cheek. “Ready for the tour, Jamie?”

“Ready,” she confirmed, the affection between mother and daughter tugging at her heart. She couldn’t imagine her mom teasing her that way. They didn’t have that kind of relationship. Sadly, they barely had one at all. “Rachel, if you’re busy, I don’t mind wandering around on my own.”

“Nope, you’re getting a tour. Otherwise, I’d have to help with dinner preparation.”

“See you two later.” With an indulgent smile, Barbara left through the swinging doors.

Rachel pointed out the kitchen and the large room with an impressive stone fireplace where guests tended to linger after dinner. At six, beer and margaritas would be served on the porch, dinner at seven in the dining room—with the exception of Saturday nights when Chester, the bunkhouse cook, fired up the smokers and the evening meal was served family-style on the picnic tables outside.

On their way to the stables, Jamie kept an eye out for Cole. A dark-haired man riding a bay horse left the barn and galloped north but it wasn’t him. Even from the back Jamie would’ve known.

“The bunkhouse?” she asked, casting a glance at the two men leaving a long rectangular building across the yard. With the door open, a strong whiff of coffee drifted through the warm air and stirred an old memory. The men who worked her uncle’s peanut farm always had a pot of acrid brew going, no matter how hot or humid the weather.

“It is, but I promised the hands we’d keep the place off-limits to guests. Believe me, you don’t want to go in there anyway.”

The men saw them and each lifted a hand in a half-hearted wave. Jamie smiled and nodded. “Must be hard for these guys to have a bunch of tourists underfoot.”

“No, not at all,” Rachel said quickly, then eyed the taller, more taciturn-looking man in his mid-sixties as the pair of cowhands moved closer. “Some of the old-timers are a little slow to adjust, but I promise it won’t affect your stay here.”

“I get it.” Jamie shrugged. “It’s a working ranch, and frankly, that’s part of the appeal.”

“I hope you’re right,” Rachel murmured, then as if regretting the remark, glanced at Jamie. “Everything is still new for us. I kind of wish you’d wanted to come later.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it.” She smiled at Rachel, whom she’d decided she really liked. Had they met in college, Jamie suspected they would’ve been friends. “Look,” she said, nudging her chin toward two giggly young women dressed inappropriately in heeled sandals, brief shorts and halter tops, watching a tall cowboy demonstrate a lassoing technique. “They seem to be having a good time.”

“Oh, yeah. So is he, apparently. That’s my brother Trace.”

At Rachel’s dry tone, Jamie grinned and got a better look at the guy’s face. She could see now that he was one of the brothers. He was kind of young and good-looking but not in the same league as Cole … who she really wanted to see again. But she didn’t dare ask, not after making that glib remark in front of his mother and sister.

“How do I sign up for activities?” she asked as they reached the stables.

“What specifically are you interested in?”

“As many things as I can fit into this week.”

“Good for you. How about we go over the schedule after dinner?”

“Sure, and by the way, I’m not afraid of getting my hands dirty.”

Rachel gave her a long speculative look, then absently nodded, a slow smile lifting her mouth. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

The stable was cool and dim after walking a few minutes in the blazing August sun. Horses stopped munching hay to curiously study the newcomer. Only a small paint seemed put off at the intrusion and tossed its mane, nickering loudly.

“Be quiet, Bubblegum.” Rachel stopped at the stall and stroked the horse’s neck. “Mind your manners.”

Unexpectedly overcome by the familiar smells of fresh straw, leather and saddle soap, Jamie hesitated, reliving that moment nearly twenty years ago on her first day in Georgia. Feeling utterly alone, she’d run from the strange family she’d never known and hidden in an empty stall. They’d found her, coaxed her out, hugged her, soothed her, loved her.

She shivered.

Rachel touched her arm. “You okay?”

“Fine.” She shrugged. “My aunt and uncle used to have a peanut farm in Georgia before they retired. Their stable was only half this size, though.”

Muffled voices carried from the back where it was dark and shadowed. Jamie couldn’t see anyone but she immediately recognized Cole’s quiet husky drawl.

“I thought he’d left,” Rachel said absently.

“Who?”

“Cole. He’s supposed to be working on the irrigation system in the north pasture.” Rachel picked up her pace. “Cole? Jesse?”

“Back here with Jezebel.”

“Is she okay?” Rachel asked anxiously. “She’s not due yet.”

“She’s fine … still pregnant.”

The two men stepped out into the dappled sunlight sneaking in through a gap in the wall. Seeing Jamie, they lapsed into a brief uncomfortable silence.

She slowed behind Rachel. The brothers were of similar height and build, both had dark hair, but Cole’s was longer. Still, they looked remarkably alike.

Rachel introduced Jesse, who was so cute he even took off his hat before he shook Jamie’s hand.

“Nice to meet you, ma’am, but you’ll have to excuse me,” he said in a deep rumbling voice, and glanced at his sister. “I’ve got to make a run to the border to pick up a goat.”

That startled a laugh out of Jamie.

“His date.” Rachel grinned, and watched her brother shake his head as he headed out. “He works part-time as an animal rescue pilot.”

“Wow.” Jamie turned to watch him go. “How interesting.”

Cole noisily cleared his throat. “I gotta be going, too.”

Rachel caught his arm. “I thought you’d already left.”

“I got sidetracked.”

“Are you sure Jezebel’s all right?”

He briefly glanced at Jamie, and she thought she saw a glint of guilt in his eyes. Maybe the brothers had been looking for a private place to talk. “Go see for yourself.”

“Stay,” Rachel said. “It’s getting close to suppertime. Have a beer on the porch with our guests.”

He frowned. “I got four hours of daylight left. I’ll grab a sandwich when I get back.”

“Come on, Cole, you work too hard.”

Jamie couldn’t see his face, but she could just imagine the glare he gave his sister as he strolled purposefully past her. “Mind if I go with you?” The words were out of Jamie’s mouth before she considered them.

Even Rachel looked a bit stunned.

Jamie shrugged. “I’ve been cooped up in a plane or car all day. I wouldn’t mind the fresh air.”

Cole stared at her, looking as if he’d been cornered by a rattlesnake.

Barefoot Blue Jean Night

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