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.
4
“I’M GOING OUT THERE to work. It won’t be a pleasure ride,” Cole said, looking to Rachel for help. He wasn’t about to let Jamie go with him. Not only did he truly mean to replace those pipes that had been leaking, but he didn’t need the distraction.
His sister thought for a moment. “How perfect,” she said, giving him one of those determined looks that meant nothing but trouble. “That way we can expect you back at a decent hour.”
Cole glared at the traitor, then realized Jamie was staring at him. He rolled his shoulder to ease the sudden kink of tension cramping his neck. “I think you’d be better off with Shane, one of our wranglers. He’s been giving the guests riding lessons and—”
“I already know how to ride.” Jamie met his eyes straight-on, giving not so much as a hint of what was going on in her head. She’d be a good poker player.
“Take Gypsy.” Rachel ignored the pointed warning he sent her with the set of his mouth, and with sheer cussedness turned to Jamie. “She’s that sweet bay mare in the first stall we passed.”
Sighing, Cole took off his hat and plowed a hand through his hair, then rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t mean to be contrary, but I’ll say it plain. This isn’t a good idea.”
Her lips parted a little, her expression startled as if he’d splashed her with cold creek water, and then her long thick lashes swept the tops of her slightly flushed cheeks. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I have no business pushing myself on you.”
“You’re not being pushy. It’s just that you’ve got plenty of time for riding, and you haven’t had a tour of the place yet.”
Jamie smiled, moved a slim shoulder. “You’re right, of course.”
Ah, hell. Better that she would’ve played coy … that he could’ve ignored. But she seemed genuinely embarrassed, which made him feel like cow manure. “Hey, if you want a ride, I’ll go saddle Gypsy for you,” he murmured, and settled his hat back on his head.
“No, Cole, really …” Jamie caught his arm.
He froze, glanced down at the slim unadorned fingers curled around his forearm. A sudden warmth flooded his chest. The reaction puzzled him. A whole passel of females had been traipsing around the ranch for the past two weeks, a lot of them prettier than her.
She slowly withdrew her hand.
“Rachel, get her a hat to protect her face and eyes.”
“I’m wearing sunscreen,” Jamie said, already starting to back up. “I have a ball cap in the room. Won’t take me but a minute to get it.”
Something about her appealed to him. Or at least she didn’t make him feel like hightailing it to the broken-down east line shack and holing up for the next week. Maybe it was her wide generous smile which seemed to come easily, or the fact that she had strong hands and sensible nails. He was a practical man. He appreciated those simple attributes in a woman.
He saw the soft heave of her high round breasts, looked into her clear hazel eyes and felt a smile tug at his mouth. She blinked, and he darted a look at his sister, who was staring at him as if he’d belched out loud in church. “What?”
As usual, Rachel wasn’t fazed by his abruptness. “Nothing.” She pressed her lips together, but that didn’t stop the corners from twitching. “I have a hat for you, Jamie. Right over here.”
Cole walked past them, his head down, wondering why the devil he’d given in. He wouldn’t get any work done because he had every intention of taking Jamie for a short ride to the foothills and then turning around in time for her to drink her margarita and eat supper with the rest of the guests. Then he’d ride back out and finish his chores. And just maybe he’d bunk in the line shack after all.
“I’VE NEVER BEEN to Montana before. It’s beautiful country.” They’d reached the edge of the high mountain meadow dotted with orange and yellow wildflowers, and Jamie wished they could stop, just for a few minutes while she soaked in the beauty of the verdant landscape.
Cole didn’t say a word. She hadn’t expected him to, nor did she expect him to stop riding. He regretted letting her come with him—that much was clear from his stony silence during the twenty-five minutes they’d been riding.
“I checked out a map before I came. The western part of the state is flat. I don’t think I’d like that much.” She glanced over at him. “Is this all McAllister land?”
“Until the other side of the meadow.”
She tugged down the borrowed brown hat, hoping to shade her eyes from the sinking sun, then squinted at the dense grove of pines climbing the mountainside. Any minute she was going to have to swallow her pride and ask him to stop. She wasn’t a bad rider but it had been a while since she’d climbed on a horse, and ogling while staying in the saddle was becoming a bit too much. Plus she was getting stiff.
A minute later he reined in his beautiful chestnut gelding, and she wanted to throw her arms around him in gratitude. But then he’d probably send her back to the ranch. She figured the best way to show her appreciation for letting her tag along was to let him have his silence. So she listened to the wind rustle the aspen leaves and inhaled the crisp air, so fresh and clean it seemed almost unnatural.
“Your nose is pink.”
“Oh.” She touched the tip, momentarily self-conscious, unaware he’d been looking at her. “That always happens, even with sunscreen. Better than freckles, I suppose.”
Their eyes met, briefly, before he found something on the side of the mountain to stare at, basically anything that wasn’t her, while he lapsed again into silence. Fine. Maybe he’d already met his word quota for the day.
She seized the chance to study his profile, guessing that he was in his early thirties. She wasn’t good at judging age to begin with, and the lines at the corners of his eyes, the groove in his cheek, all could be the result of working outdoors. Though whatever had conspired to create that face got two thumbs up from her. She liked what she saw, no doubt about that.
She
