Barefoot Blue Jean Night. Debbi Rawlins
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That particular adventure had elevated her blog to the million-hits level. After that her numbers kept climbing and she’d attracted enough paying advertisers to carve out a nice niche for herself. Only twenty-eight and living the dream. She couldn’t ask for more….
Dammit, she wanted her friends back.
Yeah, she knew she was being a whiny baby, but tough. The girls were more than friends, they’d become her family. Her parents still lived in Europe, and Aunt Liz and Uncle Philip had been great to her, always welcoming her for holidays, or anytime. But her buddies had been her sounding board, the place she’d turned for advice or when she’d needed a shoulder to sob on since freshman year of college. Kaylee was a year younger but she and Jamie had grown so close that she’d followed Jamie to UCLA.
Jamie rubbed her eyes, wishing she were more tired. Sleep would erase some of the edginess. Turning from the window, her gaze went to the handmade mahogany clock she’d picked up in Indonesia last year. Bad enough it was only midnight … she’d been back from Hawaii for three days and hadn’t completely adjusted to the time difference.
Work. That was the escape she needed. Anyway, her blog post was due tomorrow. Unfortunately her next trip wasn’t scheduled for another three weeks. Stupid move on her part. She should’ve foreseen tonight.
Jill had married first, and as soon as the reception was over, Kaylee, Linda and Jamie had headed for the closest bar and gotten tipsy while they retold college dating stories and mourned the passing of their old life. A few months later a former boyfriend of Kaylee’s had shown up. Within weeks he’d shocked everyone by popping the question. Kaylee’s answer had been twice as shocking. Dan had never been on Jamie’s short list of favorite people, or long list for that matter, but she sucked up her disappointment and put on a happy face for her cousin’s sake.
Then it was just Jamie and Linda drinking at the Crown and haggling over where to eat or what movie to see when Jamie was in town.
And now …
She exhaled sharply and quickly flipped open her laptop. She distracted herself by checking comments on her blog, catching up on Twitter and replying to her mother’s perfunctory bi-monthly email. About to tackle tomorrow’s blog post, she noticed the banner ad for the Sundance Dude Ranch in Blackfoot Falls, Montana.
A dude ranch. One of her regular readers had mentioned something about a dude ranch just last week. It wasn’t this ranch, but there was something about the ad that caught Jamie’s attention.
“Huh.”
She clicked on the website link and immediately clear blue sky, gorgeous mountains and tall Douglas firs flooded the screen. In the foreground was a large three-story log-style house with a wraparound porch complete with a swing and rocking chairs. So peaceful and homey-looking. Kind of reminded her of her aunt and uncle’s peanut farm.
Why hadn’t she tried a dude ranch before? It was different from anything she’d done, and she’d never been to Montana, although she’d heard it was beautiful country. Her readers would love it.
Leaning way back in her comfy office chair, she smiled and got busy clicking. She learned that it was a working ranch owned by the McAllister family since the late 1800s, then she checked out pictures of the adjacent national forest and wilderness area and skimmed the list of activities. She already knew how to ride pretty well and she’d gone white-water rafting twice. But there were other things that caught her interest, like rodeos, guided hikes, overnight pack trips, cattle driving and …
And them.
She bolted upright, causing her chair to roll backward on the bamboo floor mat. Grabbing the edge of her desk, she pulled herself in, then peered closer at the rugged-looking, dark-haired cowboys sitting on great big horses. Squinting, she hoped for a better look at their faces. Which was absurd, but it didn’t stop her from trying.
Holy crap, Cole McAllister was friggin’ hot. With his wide shoulders, long lean legs and brooding expression, the man was a wet dream. Jesse McAllister, with his Stetson pulled low, had the smoldering thing down pat. Oh, and she had brother Trace pegged in a flash, despite the lack of detail in the photograph. He was a hottie who knew it, and wasn’t in the market for taming.
Brilliant ad, really. The bad-boys-of-the-West image against the blue sky and snowcapped mountains, so innately gorgeous in those worn jeans and Western shirts they fulfilled every single cowboy fantasy in the book. Jamie would be shocked if the dude ranch wasn’t sold out for the first six months.
But, she was still going to try to get in. The sooner the better. Even though the ranch had been around forever, opening up for guests was a new business for the family. Tomorrow started their second week of operation.
She clicked on the calendar, saw there were two available bookings left, and got out her credit card. Oh, boy, her readers were going to love those cowboys. Hell, she was halfway there herself.
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,