Читать книгу Harlequin Superromance September 2017 Box Set - Jeannie Watt, Janet Lee Nye - Страница 22
ОглавлениеTAYLOR HEADED BACK to the bunkhouse, taking care not to walk too fast. Not to look too affected.
Holy smoke, but that guy could kiss.
This is no big deal. Get your breath. How many times had she kissed a guy and they’d gone their separate ways, no harm, no foul?
Many.
How many times had she done it when she’d had to interact with the guy on a daily basis? None. She’d taken the maxim about not getting involved with coworkers seriously, so maybe that was why this felt different.
He isn’t a coworker.
But still…
A one-time deal. That was all this was. Shake it off. If he thought it was more…well, she’d set him straight.
She let herself into the bunkhouse and settled at the computer, checked her email, researched possible contacts, noted that the market was tightening even more, damn her luck.
There was a text from Carolyn waiting on her phone—a selfie of her and her new beau with a glacier behind them. Carolyn looked happy, and Taylor smiled at the photo. Carolyn sought out relationships the same way that Taylor had avoided them. Depend on yourself, her mother had told her at least five or six times a week as she was growing up. Depend on yourself and you’ll be happier and more secure than if you depend on others.
Cecilia had lived her life that way. She’d been in a relationship with her artist husband, Jess, for almost a decade, but it was on her terms. He was the one who adjusted when compromise was necessary. In Taylor’s mind, it didn’t seem like a healthy way to run a relationship, but they seemed happy, at least on the surface. Surely Jess had to be going a little crazy, always bending and giving?
When Taylor was in a relationship—and usually she was not—she did fine in the beginning, but when it came to adapting and changing, the fear factor kicked in. What if she changed, gave up what was important to her, and then the deal crumbled? Where would she be then?
What if she couldn’t get back what she’d given up, or if she lost a piece of herself?
Getting through the divorce, and her father’s death, and now being fired, she felt as if she’d lost enough of herself.
So where did that leave her with Cole?
Excellent question. The pooling of sensual warmth in her midsection at the thought of that crazy-hot kiss was probably not a good sign—especially when she couldn’t say she didn’t want more. Sure, it was threatening, but it was also heady, and she wasn’t about to run or hide.
Taylor got to her feet and went to the small window over the sink, studied the house where Cole was now…what? Analyzing what had just happened? Or had he pushed it out of his mind?
If he could do that, he was tougher than she was.
And he wasn’t.
Taylor pushed off the sink, rolling her shoulders, which had stiffened up. So she’d kissed him. Whatever.
And, with that, she was right back to where she’d been when she’d crossed the drive from the house to the bunkhouse. And that was exactly where she was going to stay.
No. Big. Deal.
She had an interview to prepare for, and she needed to tidy up and get her equilibrium back. Act as if a big bump hadn’t appeared in the road in front of her.
* * *
AND THAT WAS one decent interview.
Taylor leaned back in the kitchen chair and stretched after the video call had ended. She’d done well, considering the fact that she’d still been off-kilter—thank you, Cole—when the call had connected. But she’d managed to get her hair and makeup done before the call, and had slipped into a dark suit jacket, so all in all she’d been prepared.
And if she got the job…maybe she and Cole could have a last hurrah. Pursue this matter between them.
Taylor pushed her chair back. Not wise. Not when he was living in her grandfather’s place.
Half an hour later she heard the barn door roll open and looked out the window. Cole was feeding the calves without her. Because of the kiss, or because he knew she had an interview?
The latter. It had to be. He probably wanted to move on as much as she did. No sense making things more uncomfortable than they needed to be while they were stuck together. The best thing to do would be to forget the kiss had ever happened.
When she met up with Cole at the barn a few minutes later, he seemed to be on board. There was nothing self-conscious in the way he greeted her or handed her the grain bucket. Together they walked to the calf pen, and if Taylor was more aware of him than usual, tuned into his every move, that was biology in action. Fortunately, she had a brain able to overcome the pitfalls of primal biological responses. She was in control of this situation, not her lady parts.
“How was the interview?”
“I think it went well. It’s a company in Ellensburg, Washington. Close to home.”
“Ah.”
The calves mobbed them, and Cole helped create a space for her to feed first one calf, then the next, without getting knocked down by the hungry trio. When the last bottle was empty and all the calves were picking at hay in the feeder, Cole opened the gate and stood back for her to pass. She was barely through when he said, “So. That kiss.”
Her startled gaze met his. “What about it?” She stepped back so that he could come through and lock the gate. “It happened. We don’t need to dissect it.”
An odd expression crossed his face. “Wait…the queen of analysis doesn’t want to analyze?”
“Maybe that is the result of my analysis.”
“You don’t want input from your research assistant?” There was no humor in his voice.
“What could you possibly say that I don’t already know, or haven’t already concluded?”
He leaned his shoulder on the fence post next to him, studying her with those green eyes until she felt like shifting her weight, folding her arms. Moving. She didn’t. But it wasn’t easy. Why wasn’t he instantly agreeing with her to move on?
Suddenly the situation, which she’d hoped to blow off, was once again edging into threatening territory, and she wasn’t going to have that.
“I analyzed,” she said finally. “And came to the conclusion that, yes, there’s chemistry. But we would be foolish to act on it. Not when we’re living as we are. You were right, we don’t want to complicate our lives.”
He considered her words and then gave a slow nod. “Fair enough.”
“It makes sense. Besides—” she nudged a rock with her toe before looking back up at him “—I’m getting to the point where I don’t want to do you bodily harm on general principles, and why mess with that?”
“I see your point.”
She pushed her hands into her pockets. “Surely you see things the same way?” She hadn’t intended for the pleading note in her voice to be there.
“I…don’t want to screw up my lease,” he admitted.
“Right.” She felt a small measure of relief. “There is that potential.”
He cocked his head. “Doesn’t stop me from wanting to kiss you again.”
Taylor’s breath went shallow. The images that flooded her brain were unsettling. “I…don’t think that would be wise.”
“Because you’re feeling it, too?”
She gave him an impatient look. “Would I have kissed you back if I hadn’t ‘felt it’?”
He hooked his thumbs in his pockets, drawing her eyes down to…there. She casually swept her gaze on over the gravel to her running shoes.
Dear heavens.
“So the next step is no step.”
Taylor let out a relieved breath. “Yes. Exactly.”
* * *
COLE WAS GOOD with the next step being no step. It wasn’t as if he had a lot of choice. The lady had spoken, and it would make their lives less complicated if they continued as they were.
But what were they?
More than acquaintances, but not quite friends. Friends felt comfortable together. When he was with Taylor, he was on edge. But he liked her.
His mouth tightened as he headed for his tractor, and he reflected that things would be a lot easier if he didn’t, but somehow the prickly princess had turned out to be a real person. One who called him on his bullshit. One who honestly did work her butt off when asked.
He’d read her wrong…or maybe she’d lightened up. Whatever the reason, this new Taylor was a double threat.
Double threats were never good.
A streak of white headed across the yard just as he got on the tractor, and with a low groan he climbed back off again. Chucky disappeared through the windbreak separating Karl’s place from the Clovendales’ pastures.
He pulled his phone from his pocket and called Mrs. Clovendale, who explained that her sister was no longer able to get around like she used to and Chucky was now a permanent resident of Clovendale Farms. But she’d certainly ask her husband to fix the hole that Chucky had escaped through.
Cole agreed that was a great idea and then dropped the phone back into his pocket. If his biggest concerns were a renegade poodle and Taylor, then his life was good.
Miranda was a potential concern, too, but she’d been quiet and as far as he knew hadn’t messed with Jancey lately. And he decided he should be grateful for that.
Why was Miranda so quiet?
He started the tractor and headed out to the fields, wishing he could just let things go. He didn’t trust Miranda. Taylor had probably worked with nutso people like his step-aunt. There had to be tons of egos and power maneuvers in the business world. When things smoothed out between them, when he didn’t feel the urge to touch her every time she got close to him, maybe he’d ask for insights…without going into a whole lot of detail about his ranch.
It was not only demoralizing, it was embarrassing.
Which was probably how Taylor had felt after losing her job when she’d made it the primary focus of her life.
But he wasn’t going to think about Taylor. Or Miranda. He was going to focus on weed control and seeing about getting water to the corners of his fields. At least that was a part of his life he could control.
* * *
THE NEXT MORNING after the calf feeding, Cole told Taylor that he had work to do in the fields, then asked if she would mind clearing out the old tack room in the barn.
“I want to store seed in there, but it’s loaded with old tools and stuff. Most of it needs to be hauled away.”
“Sure.” She’d discovered that the work she hadn’t wanted to do made the days go by and kept her from obsessing over her job search. She missed dealing with numbers, plotting strategies and keeping her finger on the pulse of business operations, but found that she didn’t mind physical labor. It left her with a sense of satisfaction and beat staring at her computer or the four bunkhouse walls.
“It’s a dirty job, so if you want use of the tub—” he looked vaguely self-conscious “—just let me know.”
Use of the tub? Words she’d never thought she’d hear him say. Taylor frowned at him. “What brought this on?”
He rubbed his cheek. “Too many hours in the tractor.”
“Excuse me?”
He dropped his hand. “I was being a jerk about things when you first got here. There’s no reason you shouldn’t have access to the tub if you want.”
As if she could relax naked in hot water with him on the other side of the door.
“Thank you,” she said slowly. “I, uh, might take you up on it. If I had the house to myself.”
“I’m not moving into the bunkhouse.”
“I wasn’t talking permanently. I was only thinking that I’d have a better shot at relaxation if I was alone as opposed to hogging the bathroom.” Because Karl’s old house had only the one.
“Okay. The next time I have a night out, I’ll let you know.”
She allowed herself a smile. “I’m trying hard not to do a happy dance right now.”
“Tomorrow is poker night. I’ll be gone for a while.” He opened the barn door and set the grain bucket inside, then reached out to take the bottle bucket from Taylor.
“You have a poker night?”
“Karl’s friends. I’m taking his place. In return, they take my money.” He gave her a mock-innocent look. “Something wrong with that?”
“No…just that it seems to be at odds with your hermit persona.”
He rolled the barn door shut again with his good hand. “For the record, I’m not a hermit. I just like to choose when I spend time with people. For the past four years I haven’t been able to do that. I’ve not only had to spend time with them, I’ve had to pretend I’m happy doing it.”
“What exactly did you do?”
“I saddled horses, answered questions, refrained from rolling my eyes at the dumb ones.” He gave her a pointed look. “And for the record, there are dumb questions. I liked most of the guests, but…mostly I just wanted to disappear onto my part of the ranch and raise cows and hay.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“The technicalities of a handshake agreement.”
Taylor frowned.
“I’ll explain it sometime.”
“Yeah?”
He stopped walking at the place where they would part ways. “Yeah.”
That was…surprising. She wasn’t certain she believed him, but the odd thing was that she wanted to believe him. “What’s stopping you from explaining right now?”
His gaze met hers. “I don’t know. Lack of whiskey, maybe?”
“That bad?”
He gave a short laugh. “No. It’s just…family business and I’m not a great sharer.”
Taylor slipped her thumbs into her back pockets and rocked back on her heels. “When I first met you, I had you pegged as working in the hospitality field.”
He looked almost insulted. “No kidding.”
“You were smooth and I could tell you’d worked with people. I would have guessed that you were a really good sharer. But as I get to know you better, you get rougher around the edges.” She cocked her head. “How does that work?”
“Public me. Real me.”
“You’re good at hiding ‘real you.’”
“Years of practice.”
“But you weren’t ‘public you’ with me for very long.”
“I found you threatening at first. On a number of fronts.”
Taylor lifted her eyebrows. “I find you threatening, too.”
“Yeah?” He easily followed the shift in the subject of conversation. “Still?”
“Things like this don’t dissipate overnight.” This being an attraction that could easily veer out of control. “It’s not that I’m not interested…but damn it, Cole, the timing is all wrong.”
“And you’re all about schedules.”
“At this juncture of my life, I’m all about caution and control. You’re screwing with both of those.”
* * *
TAYLOR HAD TO give Cole points for not messing with her caution and control over the next two days. In fact, she barely saw him. When she got up on Tuesday morning, ready to hit the boneyard, he was out in the field on his tractor. She found a note tacked to her door that read “No work today or tomorrow.”
It felt like a snow day. No farmwork, no temptation. Did it get any better than that?
Taylor parked herself in front of her computer and spent the morning drinking coffee and networking, sending out résumés and touching base with her contacts. Applying for everything she could possibly apply for. When she was done, she went for a run, stopping to admire the new calves playing in the fields across the road from her grandfather’s farm.
The next day she did the same, and when she was done with her run, she went to what was left of her grandmother’s vegetable garden and started thinking about what it would take to put it right again. Cole might be a farmer, but he hadn’t touched the garden. Maybe she should?
Taylor abruptly turned and headed back to the bunkhouse. What was she thinking? Gardens? She had a black thumb, and gardening had never been her thing…but she had enjoyed picking peas and digging carrots—even when she’d become too cool for the farm. There was no reason that she shouldn’t enjoy gardening again—except for the fact that she had no idea how long she was going to be there.
It would take less than six months to plant and harvest…
Great. Just what she needed. A farmer voice whispering in her ear.
To counteract it, Taylor sent a few more emails, accepted an offer for a phone interview the following week, then sent a text to Carolyn. She’d just set down her phone when a knock on the door brought her to her feet.
When she opened the door, Cole was standing a few feet away, covered in powdery dirt. “What happened?”
He looked down at his dusty jeans and T-shirt, then gave a few half-hearted slaps that raised the dust a little. “Chucky got out again. Chased the tractor, tried to go down an old badger hole. I had to lie on my stomach to get him out.”
“And he’s…”
“Back home. Mrs. Clovendale saw he was gone and came out across the field.”
“Sorry to have missed that.”
“Oh, yeah. Chucky’s a lot of fun. I just wanted to remind you that it’s poker night.”
Taylor couldn’t stop the smile that spread across her face. “I know.”
“You should have at least two hours of privacy. The old guys let me and Dylan win for a while to kind of stretch things out before annihilating us.”
“Could you maybe call before you come back?”
“I could do that.”
“Sometimes I fall asleep in the tub.”
He frowned at her. “No way.”
She smiled dreamily. “I do love my baths.”
Cole blew out a breath and gave her a smile that said, “O-k-a-a-y…” before adding, “I’ll be gone in about an hour.”
“Thanks, Cole.” And she meant that from the bottom of her heart.
Exactly one hour later, before the dust had settled behind Cole’s truck, Taylor started the tub running. While it filled, she went to the kitchen, opened the wine she’d brought and poured a healthy amount into a tumbler. The thieves had made off with her wineglasses, but somehow drinking wine out of a milk glass while soaking in an old pink bathtub seemed appropriate. Her life wasn’t the same as it once was. Eventually she’d be home again, fighting deadlines and drinking wine out of crystal stemware, but in the meantime, a glass her grandmother had pulled out of a detergent box forty or fifty years ago worked.
The water was dangerously high by the time Taylor slipped out of her clothes and eased into the tub. It lapped at the edge but didn’t spill over. She slid deeper, closing her eyes as the excess water gurgled into the overflow. The wine and the book could wait. Right now she was just going to—
A bang on the door brought her upright.
Another bang and she stood up, water sheeting off her and splashing onto the floor as she grabbed her towel. She heard the kitchen door open and cursed under her breath. So much for warning phone calls…
“Hello?”
Taylor froze.
That was not Cole. Far from it. The voice was feminine.
“Cole?”
Cole had a woman in his life. That solved the problem of what to do about the kiss. Taylor hitched the towel up a little higher. She’d never been the other woman. Hell, she wasn’t the other woman now. She cracked open the door. “Hi?”
The footsteps that had passed by the bathroom stopped dead and then came back toward her. “Who are you?”
Taylor closed the door again—just in case this woman was the volatile kind. “I live next door. I don’t have a tub. Cole let me use his while he’s gone.” And it’s really my grandfather’s tub.
“There is no next door.”
“The bunkhouse. I live in the bunkhouse.”
“No one lives in the bunkhouse. I’d know.”
Guess again, honey.
“Look,” the woman continued, “if you’re hooking up with my brother, I don’t—”
Taylor opened the door. “Your brother?”
The woman, who was younger than Taylor had assumed, looked so much like Cole it was spooky. Definitely telling the truth about the relationship.
Taylor wrapped her towel a little tighter. “I’m Karl Evans’s granddaughter, Taylor.”
Cole’s sister gave her a skeptical look. “If you’re living here, then why didn’t my brother tell me?”
“Because he’s the most closemouthed individual I know?”
The sister gave a considering nod. “You might be right.” She glanced down the hall, then back at Taylor. “This is kind of embarrassing.”
“Was Cole expecting you?” The girl’s mouth tightened, and that was when Taylor noted the blotchiness around her beautiful eyes. She’d either been crying or trying hard not to cry.
“No.” She gave a small shrug. “I’m Jancey, by the way.”
“Nice name.”
“Norwegian uncle. Only his name was pronounced Yancey. I’m glad they went with ‘J.’”
“Ah.”
The girl glanced down at her very worn Western boots as if debating a course of action. “I kind of expected Cole to be here.”
“He’ll be back tonight. You could call him.”
She shook her head. “Not a phone matter.”
Taylor shivered. The house was cold. “I need to get dressed. Give me a second?” Because she didn’t want this girl, who was obviously upset, to disappear into the night.
“Sure. Maybe I’ll raid the fridge.”
“Good plan.”
Taylor pulled the door closed, dropped the towel and reached into the still deliciously warm water to pull the plug. Goodbye, first bath in forever…
She dressed in a hurry, grabbed the wine bottle, the glass and her book, and headed out into the kitchen, where Jancey was sitting at the empty table with no food in sight.
“Is the fridge empty?”
“I guess I’m really not hungry.” She folded her arms across her midsection. “I didn’t know Karl had a granddaughter. I’ve only been here a couple times. I came with Cole when they made the farming deal.”
“I used to spend summers—well, parts of summers—here. My dad grew up here.” Brought my mother here and ruined her life. Anyway, that was how Cecilia told the story.
“Why are you back?”
“I got laid off and couldn’t find a job where I lived. I needed a place to stay while I look for another job.”
“And Cole let you stay here?”
Taylor barely kept from giving a derisive snort. “We…came to an agreement.”
“Cole came here to get away from things.”
“So I gather.”
Jancey looked past Taylor to the darkened window behind her. “I might be staying here, too.”
“The more the merrier,” Taylor said lamely. Whatever the girl’s reason for moving in, Taylor didn’t think it was a happy one.
“Yeah.” Jancey attempted a smile, but it fell flat.
“If I cooked something, would you eat it?”
The girl raised her eyes. “You don’t have to do that.”
“Except that I’m starving and the stove in the bunkhouse is really old and doesn’t work very well.”
“You should get a microwave.”
“I had one, but it got stolen. And I don’t think the wiring could take it.”
“I’m surprised you’re living there. You must have fixed it up.”
“Patched a hole in the floor.” Taylor went to the cupboard to see what Cole had on hand. As she’d hoped, he had spaghetti and sauce. In her experience, pasta made everything better.
She put water on to boil, adding oil and salt. Everything was exactly where it had been when she’d stayed with her grandfather years ago. Cole had made no changes or additions to the kitchen, and Karl had barely taken anything with him.
“Are you in school?” Taylor asked as she opened the spaghetti sauce.
“I start college in the fall. I graduated high school almost a year ago and decided to work for a year so that I didn’t have to borrow as much money.”
“Great plan,” Taylor said. “I’m still haunted by loans.” And would be for some time to come.
“It was a great plan. Now…not so much.”
She spoke in a way that didn’t invite questions, so Taylor focused on cooking. “I wish I had hamburger to make a meat sauce.”
“I like plain old red sauce. Our cook does a great Bolognese, but I don’t need meat with my pasta.”
“You have a cook?”
“The ranch does.”
“You work on the guest ranch?”
Jancey’s expression closed off, and Taylor turned back to the stove. All righty, then. “Shouldn’t be too long.” She almost wished aloud for bread but didn’t want to remind Jancey of the cook again.
The phone rang, and Jancey answered. “I wanted to talk to you,” she said after hello. “I’d rather wait until you get here. Okay. See you soon.”
She hung up then smiled a little. “My brother says that you should get out of the tub.”
“Will do.” Taylor leaned back against the counter, feeling oddly nervous now that she knew Cole was on his way home. “What do you plan to study?”
“I thought about majoring in ag econ, like Cole, but my heart is set on veterinary science.”
“Cole’s degree is in…aggiecon?” Whatever that was. Taylor was surprised to hear that Cole had a degree at all, which drove home the point that she’d been as judgmental about him as he’d been about her.
“Agricultural economics.”
Ag. Econ. Ah. “That wasn’t a course of study at my university,” Taylor said with a smile.
“He was working on an MBA, too, before he left the ranch. Online.”
“No kidding.”
“Cole’s a smart guy.”
Taylor considered why he’d kept working at the guest ranch he hated, but she had a feeling that the answer was sitting in front of her.
Once the pasta was ready, Taylor strained it and dumped it into a pan on the stove. She added the pasta sauce and a little Parmesan cheese, warming everything through before getting a plate and a plastic container out of the cupboard. “You don’t care if I take mine with me, do you? I have some stuff to catch up on.”
“Are you kidding? I’m thrilled you stayed long enough to cook for me.” Her expression softened. “Thanks. I kind of needed a pick-me-up.”
Taylor loaded the wine and damp towel into the tote she’d brought. “Trust me. I totally get it.” She headed for the door just as the lights swung into the driveway. She didn’t want to look as if she were running, but for reasons she didn’t quite have a handle on, she didn’t want to be there when Cole got home.
* * *
COLE’S STOMACH WAS in a knot by the time he parked next to the house. Taylor was just leaving as he pulled into the drive. She raised a hand and scurried toward the bunkhouse. Well, at least Jancey’d had some company while she waited for him.
He pushed open the kitchen door and stepped into the heavenly scent of fresh spaghetti sauce.
“You cooked?”
Jancey snorted. “Right.”
“Taylor cooked.”
“She felt sorry for me.”
“Dare I ask why?”
“From the way she was looking at me, I’d say she’d guessed I’d been crying.” And was about to start again, which disturbed him, since Jancey wasn’t by nature a teary person.
He pulled out a chair and sat on the other side of the table. “What happened?”
“She who shall not be named.”
“That goes without saying. What did she do?” Because he was going to hurt her if she hurt his sister.
She drew in a shaky breath then exhaled. “She threatened me.”
Instant blood pressure spike. “Threatened you how?”
“She invited me to this private lunch, and we had this…dainty food…and she tried to make me feel all special. Then she said that she knew I was going to have some difficulty paying for college and that she could help me from getting too deeply into debt.”
Cole pressed his fingers to his forehead. Miranda made people feel special only when she needed something. Her minions felt special all the time, which was why they were loyal to her.
“She asked me to sell my part of the ranch to her. She told me that since I was eighteen, I could do as I wanted, according to the trust, and that you weren’t that interested in keeping the ranch—if you were, then you wouldn’t be farming fifty miles away.”
“You know that’s not true.” He hoped.
She cleared her throat. “She said you were only hanging on to your share to make her angry and if I asked you, you’d tell me to hang on for the same reason. She said it was selfish of you, when the money could help me through college.”
“I’m hanging on because it’s ours.”
Jancey gave a jerky nod as she worried the amethyst ring she wore.
“That’s not really a threat, Jancey. She tried to scam you—”
His sister’s eyes came up. “She said that if I didn’t sell, that she’d talk to people at my college. Tell them…stuff, I guess. I thought she was blowing smoke, and then I got a call from my high school counselor. College admissions called her because they were concerned I’d had someone else write my entrance essay. They sent it to her. Asked her whether it reflected my abilities.”
Cole stared at her, stunned. “I thought this just happened.”
Jancey shook her head. “It happened a couple weeks ago.”
“And you didn’t tell me.”
“I…thought I could handle it. Right up…” Her voice cracked. “Right up until I got the call from Mrs. Chavez.”
“Your counselor.”
“Yeah.”
Cole leaned back in his chair, carefully unclenching his fists. She should have told him sooner, but he needed to deal with it now. He scraped his chair back and Jancey reached out to touch his hand.
“Don’t go to the ranch.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m afraid of what she’ll do.”
Cole gave a choked laugh. It was more of a question of what he would do. Mess with him, fine. Mess with his baby sister…
Cole did his best to look reassuring as he said, “There’s nothing she can do, Jancey. She wants you to think she can.”
“Look what she did to Jordan.”
“Tried to do. There’s a difference.” She’d done her best to take control of his hideaway ranch, but ultimately, Jordan had prevailed.
“She did do it to me,” his sister said darkly.
True. And she wasn’t getting away with it.
* * *
TAYLOR CLOSED HER LAPTOP, taking care not to slam it down, and got to her feet. Three, count ’em, three, rejections. Two of them were for jobs that she didn’t want, but the third rejection stung, having come after that lengthy, hope-inspiring late-afternoon Skype interview. She’d wanted that job. She stopped in front of the mirror and glared at herself.
“Three? Really?”
Max raised his head as she spun around, then laid it back on his paws, keeping his green gaze on her as she took a turn around the room, trying to get control of both her disappointment and her fears for the future.
“You may end up mousing for a living,” she told the cat, “because I think we may be stuck here forever.” Which clearly wasn’t an option, but after receiving three rejections—bam, bam, bam—the doubts started rolling in.
She didn’t want to live here forever. She had things to do, professional dragons to slay.
She had a goal list, for Pete’s sake, and “stay on the farm forever” wasn’t a line item there.
She started to shrug out of her shirt when she stopped moving. Was that…?
Oh, yeah. She could hear the now-familiar sounds of the calves stampeding around their pen and glanced at the clock. A little after ten, just as it’d been the first time Chucky had come to call. Was the Curly Terror back?
If so, at least she knew the magic words to get him out from under the grain shed. Unlike the last time that she encountered the poodle-in-the-night, Taylor didn’t feel the least bit cautious as she headed out the door. She was glad to have something else to focus on.
She strode across the gravel toward the barn with a no-nonsense stride. The calves were milling nervously around in their pen, but she didn’t see any flashes of white. She didn’t see anything threatening in the bluish light cast by the light attached to the barn, but there was a movement in the shadows.
Taylor stopped dead. What if, instead of a poodle, it was a coyote or a wolf this time? Hanging in the shadows, waiting for the right moment to spring—
“Are you okay?”
Taylor gave a small shriek as the voice came out of nowhere, then pressed a hand to her chest as she recognized Cole’s voice. Beneath her palm, her heart hammered.
“You scared the crap out of me.” She took a couple of deep breaths, willing her heart to slow down. “I thought Chucky was back.”
“Sorry about that. I startled the calves when I came out of the machine shop, so I thought I’d hang until they settled.”
She let out one last breath, then reached down to zip her sweatshirt, doing her best to regain her equilibrium during the simple act. Once zipped, she asked, “How was poker?”
“I lost.” It was a simple statement of fact. “Thanks for taking care of my sister. Feeding her, I mean.”
“She’s cute,” Taylor said, taking a few steps closer. “And she seemed upset. I didn’t want to leave her alone.”
“I appreciate that.” He fell silent as Taylor came to a stop a few feet away from him. The wind gently lifted her hair, and she pulled a hand out of her pocket to brush it away from her face.
“Do you want to be alone?” There had to be a reason he was out here when his little sister was in the house.
He breathed deeply, then raised his gaze to the dark horizon past the house. “No,” he said simply.
Amazing how one small word could mean so much.
“Me either.”
He turned his head. “Why’s that?”
“I got three rejection emails tonight. What happened to you?”
“A bully messed with my sister.”
“You’re kidding.” She felt a sudden welling of protectiveness toward a girl she didn’t even know. Jancey seemed like an okay kid. “Who?”
“Our step-aunt. The one who has control of our ranch.”
“The handshake deal.”
“Followed by a lot of paperwork.”
Taylor looked down at the clumped-up dirt in the dimly lit pen. The calves had settled, and the night was quiet. She focused on Cole, who was still staring out across the dark fields. “What did she do?”
Cole shook his head.
Taylor moved forward to rest her forearms on the rail next to him, keeping her gaze on him. “Do you know why I’m the perfect person to talk to?”
He glanced over at her. “Why?”
“Sometimes an outsider sees things in a different way. And I don’t know anyone to gossip to. Win.”
He let out a short breath. “There’s pretty much only one way to see this.” He dropped his gaze and shook his head. When he looked up again, he met her eyes in a way that made her insides tumble. “But I will confess to having thought about getting your take on this.”
“Why didn’t you?” Neither had moved, but it felt as if he were closer.
“Just wasn’t there yet.”
“You know,” she said softly, “I’m pretty sure I’d rather have three job rejections than find out someone had messed with my sister. The rejections are about me. The bullying…”
“Makes me want to punch Miranda’s face in.”
“That’s your step-aunt?”
“That’s her. She messed with Jancey’s college application. Did her some damage credibility-wise.”
Taylor’s mouth fell open. “Will you be able to straighten out the matter?”
“We hope.”
Taylor thought about how devastated she would have been had someone messed with her applications. The journey to success started in high school and segued into college. That had been hammered into her for so long that, even now, it shocked her to think of someone messing with another person’s educational future. “What exactly did she do to Jancey?”
“Suggested that her entry essay was written by someone else.”
Taylor shook her head. “That’s low. Very low.”
“Welcome to Miranda World.”
“Which college?”
“Danner.”
Taylor was familiar with the school. Small but prestigious. Located near Boise. She’d worked with at least one person who’d graduated from there. “If there’s anything I can do—”
Cole reached out and covered her hand with his. Shock at the unexpected contact was quickly followed by warmth, and Taylor found that she no longer had a whole lot to say. Cole squeezed her fingers, then slid his hand away. A silent bit of communication from a guy who didn’t share easily. He hadn’t exactly spilled his secrets, but he was opening up to her, little by little. And even if things proved to be complicated, she wouldn’t give back this moment.
He jerked his head toward his house. “Jancey’s still up. Want to watch a Rodney movie?”
She blinked at him, surprised by the question, then smiled. “Yes. I would.”
“I thought so.” He pushed off the fence, and even though he didn’t offer his hand again, they walked to the house, close enough that every now and again their shoulders bumped, and Taylor realized that she felt more at peace, more centered than she’d felt in a long, long time.
The only problem was that it was happening in a place where she didn’t belong.
* * *
JANCEY WAS NOT much of a chaperone. They’d barely gotten twenty minutes into the movie when she fell asleep curled up in Karl’s big chair with her fist tucked under her chin. She looked so vulnerable and emotionally spent that Cole’s anger welled.
He must have been telegraphing because Taylor leaned into him during a particularly raucous part of the movie. “I know it’s tough,” she murmured. “Better to hurt yourself than see someone you love hurting.”
He was so damned glad she didn’t say something along the lines of “it’ll be all right.” It may well be, but they didn’t know for sure.
“This is how Miranda works. She gets people so stirred up that they make stupid mistakes while she stays cool and collected. She feeds off this stuff.”
“Lovely woman.”
“Jancey’s tough,” he said. His little sister stirred in her sleep at the sound of her name, then settled again. “But…”
His voice trailed off as Taylor took his hand, very much as he’d taken hers earlier, and laced her fingers with his. It could have been the gesture of a good friend…or something else.
He was too wound up to properly evaluate, so instead he went with his gut, shifted on the sofa and brought his hand up to touch her face, lightly cupping her cheek. She held his gaze, raised her eyebrows, her lips curving into a soft I’m-game-if-you-are smile.
Hell, why not?
His lips met hers in a butterfly kiss. Barely a touch, but electric all the same. Her mouth opened, inviting him in. He accepted as he pushed his hand into her silky hair, twisting the strands gently as the kiss deepened.
Had his sister not been there, he would have pressed Taylor back onto the sofa and gotten serious about this. An explosion on the television screen yanked them back to the here and now, and he shot a look over at Jancey to see if she was still asleep. Thankfully she was. Taylor pulled back a little.
“You’re distracting me from Rodney,” she whispered.
“Who?”
She let out a soft laugh, her warm breath feathering over his lips. Her fingers splayed wide over the side of his face, the connection between them feeling so real. So good.
“I hate to miss the end of the movie, but perhaps I should go?”
Cole let out a breath. He didn’t want her to go. And wasn’t that just nuts?
“Yeah. Maybe so.” He took her lips again in a kiss that promised more. Much more. Later.
Surely there’d be a later?
With Taylor, with their odd situation, there was no telling.
* * *
WHEN TAYLOR HEADED out to feed the calves the following morning, Jancey was already there, cooing and loving the little animals as she fed them.
“I take it these were your babies?” Taylor said as she approached.
“They are.” There were still signs of stress in the girl’s face, but she looked better than she had the night before, making Taylor wonder how Cole looked this morning. He’d been smoldering while they’d watched the movie. Before she’d distracted him, that is. Distracted him, distracted herself.
It was crazy how right it had felt.
Jancey finished the last calf and dropped the bottle in the bucket. “The heifer that tried to take out my brother is mine, too. I’m selling her, and he was supposed to deliver.”
“Yeah. That didn’t work out so well.”
“Got to check your ground before working. He knows that.” She climbed out of the pen. “I have to clean up. Job hunting today.”
“Good luck.” Taylor did her best to keep the irony out of her voice.
“Thanks. I guess I should be grateful that Miranda made me wait tables last summer.”
Taylor smiled as if she didn’t know who Miranda was, then headed back to the bunkhouse to do the networking she didn’t feel like doing. Seattle seemed very far away today.
An hour later, a movement outside the window caught Taylor’s attention, and she looked up in time to catch sight of Jancey getting into her car. Cole followed, leaning down to say a few words through the open window, then he headed for the machine shop after his sister drove away.
Taylor grabbed her jacket and let herself out of the bunkhouse. When she walked into the machine shed, Cole was standing in front of the long workbench staring at nothing in particular. He turned, scowling.
“Nice stay-away face.” Taylor leaned a shoulder against the door.
“Not intended for you.” He rubbed his hands over his cheeks and then dropped them again. “Still working through stuff.”
She couldn’t help but wonder if some of that stuff involved her…and how she felt about that. But for now, she wasn’t thinking, plotting or planning. She was doing.
“How would you feel about taking a drive with me today?”
“To…?”
“The ranch.”
Taylor pushed off from the door and moved a couple of steps closer. Jancey had been bullied by their step-aunt, and now Cole was going to the ranch. How could she say no? She wanted to see this ranch and meet Miranda. She wanted to make certain Cole didn’t do anything he’d be sorry for later. The guy was starting to matter to her in ways she’d never dreamed of.
She gave an overly casual shrug. “When do you want to leave?”
