The guy laughed. “It’s just a scratch. Only…”
“What?”
“I’m assuming she doesn’t have rabies.”
Calum shuddered. “I hope not. I’ve had her since she was a pup.”
“Australian cattle dog.”
Calum gave a surprised laugh. “Yeah, she is. And she’s usually docile with most people—maybe she sensed you’re afraid of dogs.”
“I’m not scared of dogs,” Jasper snapped and then sighed. “She was being protective. It’s fine.”
He closed his eyes and rested his head against the window. Almost before Calum had pulled out of the airport, soft snores were coming from his passenger.
What the fuck had made Bessie nip him? Calum gave a little smile because he was kind of jealous. Biting this uptight dude sounded like fun. Then he frowned. He wasn’t supposed to be thinking that way. In any case, what would a polished guy like Jasper see in a rough cowboy like him? Calum didn’t own a pair of pants that weren’t jeans. His natural odor was horse sweat and…dirt, not the fragrant kind. He didn’t manage to keep a shirt clean longer than an hour and his body was scarred and battered.
Calum glanced at Jasper again. He could have come straight from the office. A tie, for Christ’s sake? But that shadow of stubble on his chin and cheeks, those soft-looking lips, the dark hair, the thick black eyelashes that were longer than any he’d ever seen, and those fucking huge brown eyes—this guy had Calum swallowing hard.
Jasper’s hands lay across his crotch. His fingers were long and slender. Clean, neat nails. Large unblemished hands. Office worker’s hands. He’d wreck them if he didn’t wear gloves. Even holding the reins would give him calluses. Seemed a shame. Calum sighed. That wasn’t what he was really thinking. He was imagining those hands stroking him, soft fingers trailing down his spine, sweeping over his hips to wrap around his cock, long fingers sliding into his asshole. Christ, now I’ve got a boner. Good thing the guy was asleep.
Jasper hoped he was managing a realistic impression of a guy asleep. He kept his hands relaxed on top of his cock, willing it to stay flaccid. Mind over matter, but it was a struggle. As often as he might tell himself the purpose of this holiday was to unwind into a guy who could enjoy life, the thought that he might meet a cowboy he could unwind into, one he could get down and dirty with, had been there as well.
That bloody dog knew what he was thinking. Australian cattle dogs weren’t an aggressive breed, but very protective of their owners. They nipped at the heels of cattle to herd them. So in nipping at Jasper, Bessie was establishing both her ownership of Calum and the pecking order in any potential relationship.
The message was clear. Hands off. He’s mine.
Yeah, well Jasper didn’t even know whether Calum was gay, straight or bi. Not that it mattered. He’d do what he always did, fall in lust with someone who was either unobtainable or uninterested, and jack off while he thought about them.
Jasper jolted awake when the SUV came to a stop. What had started as pretence had turned into him sleeping for—he checked his watch—over an hour. Fuck, I hope I didn’t snore for real. Or dribble. He stretched his legs and blinked.
“Reckon you needed that,” Calum said.
Jasper yawned. “I’ve been traveling for over twenty-four hours.” His ears still rang with fatigue.
“It’s a long way to come. Hope you enjoy your stay. Just join the others up at the ranch for the welcome.”
Calum climbed out, opened the back door for Bessie to jump out and walked off.
Well fuck you too. Jasper tore his gaze from Calum’s tight backside and exited the vehicle. On that side of the SUV, a line of mountains stretched as far as he could see, snow dusting the peaks, the rocks below running though a kaleidoscope of colors down to smoky green foothills and a river. The sky was the most intense blue Jasper had ever seen, rather like Calum’s ocean eyes. No washed-out English gray overhead, but miles of bright sky and not a cloud in sight. He took a deep breath and sighed. Mountain air would do him good. Lusting after a guy he couldn’t—shouldn’t—have would do him no good at all.
Jasper turned in a circle. Mountains rose on either side, with the ranch nestling in a long undulating valley between. The main building was a sprawling wooden structure with a wraparound porch that looked like an overgrown alpine chalet, and Jasper felt a pang of disappointment it wasn’t some beaten-up shack with creaking shutters and a hitching post. Then he smiled at the thought of his reaction if it had been. He already knew this place had a gym, a pool and a hot tub. He intended to use all three. Jasper took another deep breath. Maybe he wouldn’t even need his inhaler. The air smelt fresh and clean with the tangy scent of pine and sage.
When he heard snuffling around his feet, Jasper looked down to see Bessie tentatively wagging her tail.
“So you’re sorry now?” He bent and extended his hand. “I know he’s yours, but a guy can look, can’t he?”
The dog allowed him to tickle her behind the ears and a moment later lay on her back so he could stroke her belly. Jasper smiled. Animals were easy in comparison to humans.
“Hey! Got time to join us?”
Suspecting that had been aimed at him, Jasper turned to see the rest of the guests milling at the bottom of the steps leading up to the ranch. A tall, gray-haired guy in his mid-fifties stood at the top. He frowned as he beckoned to Jasper. Great, I’m in trouble already.
Jasper reached for his luggage and tagged on at the back of the group, Bessie at his heels, wagging her tail hard enough to raise bruises. Jasper wished he knew what she was thinking. What had happened on the way to the ranch? Had Calum told her that he fancied—for fuck’s sake.
“Welcome to the Neilson Ranch,” said the guy on the steps. “My name’s Erik Neilson. You already met my son Calum and my ranch manager Pete at the airport. But these two beauties by my side are the heart of this operation. My wife Vera and our lovely daughter Angie.”
One step below Erik, a pretty girl in her early twenties with long blonde hair thrust her arm in the air and waved. A woman with a kind smile stood at her side. There was something not right about the girl, though Jasper wasn’t sure what.
“In a moment you’ll be shown to your rooms. Only a few rules. First, no wandering off the ranch on your own without telling someone. Easy to get lost around here and there are wild animals always on the lookout for an easy meal. Including bears and mountain lions. Second, remember this is a working ranch so the needs of our cattle and horses come first, but if there’s something particular you want to do, tell me. If I can make it happen, I will. This is your vacation and we aim to please. We want you to forget your troubles and enjoy yourself.”
Jasper found his gaze wandering toward Calum, and when the guy quickly looked away, he wondered if Calum had been looking at him. Could he be gay? That was the problem with not fancying guys who were obviously that way inclined. It was much harder to trust his gaydar. Jasper tuned back in.
Erik’s gaze seemed directed at him and Jasper shuffled in discomfort. Shit, did I miss anything important? Or had Erik seen him staring at his son?
“When you’ve settled, we have drinks and snacks ready in the lounge. Dinner is at seven. One final thing. Our horses don’t spook at gunfire, but they sure don’t like to hear cell phones playing some crazy tune. It your phone rings while you’re out on a ride, expect to eat some dust. These are working stock horses and not particular about their manners. If you persist in talking on your cell phone while you’re riding, you might find one of the wranglers will shoot it out of your hand. Better hope you don’t have it pressed against your ear at the time.” He flashed a toothy smile.
Everyone laughed, but when Erik’s gaze locked on him again, Jasper had the feeling he wasn’t joking.
Note to self: Don’t take phone when I go riding.
Chapter Two
Calum walked into the dining room to see Angie and Vera serving drinks to guests who chatted and milled about in front of the roa
ring fire. It took a lot of heat to warm a room with a cathedral ceiling. The room was impressive but their family lounge was much more cozy—well, when his father wasn’t being an ass. Temperatures were already falling under clear skies. This time of year the days were warm but the nights cold. Snow wasn’t impossible. Calum scanned the room for Jasper and didn’t see him. Disappointment tussled with relief and neither won. In any case, Calum wasn’t sure he could have made polite conversation. What did he have in common with an uptight English guy? He didn’t even know if Jasper was gay.
“He’s not here,” Calum’s father said at his ear.
“Who?” Calum hadn’t been able to help jumping. He swore sometimes his father could read his mind, but Calum put as much indifference into his voice as he could. “What are you talking about?”
“You know damn well who I’m talking about. You maneuvered your way into bringing him here in the SUV when you could have transported luggage instead. I saw the way you watched him outside. I saw him looking at you.”
Oh fuck. Calum made sure his face showed nothing, though he knew it was a waste of time. His father didn’t trust him. Pointless explaining that Pete had loaded the luggage and that Pete had told him to take Jasper in the SUV. As far as his father was concerned, Pete was a fucking god who could do no wrong, which was why he was ranch foreman and not Calum.
“Keep away from the English guy,” his father muttered.
Calum bit his lip before he snapped something he’d regret. It hurt that his father assumed he wanted to leap on every good-looking guy who came to the ranch. Would he have reacted the same if Calum was straight?
“Chat with those pretty girls and be nice,” his father said.
Probably not.
Calum did as he was told. Gradually the long table in the dining area began to fill. Pete and the other wranglers sat down, and Ring, Pete’s son, took the seat between Melissa and Janie. That guy only had to open his mouth to annoy Calum. Often he didn’t even have to do that. Just looking at Ring put Calum in a bad mood. The slimy, sneaky, sarcastic son of a bitch took every opportunity to make trouble for him.
Vera and Angie joined them at the table. His father insisted the family and ranch hands dine with the guests. He insisted they smile about it too, and Calum tried to look happy. The kitchen help began to bring out platters of steaming roast beef, and Calum wondered what was keeping Jasper. Any moment his father would notice he was still missing and get annoyed. Staying under the radar was the best response to Erik Neilson. Not turning up for a meal or turning up late would just plain piss him off.
“Anyone seen the English guy?” asked Calum’s father in a loud voice.
Here we go. His father looked straight at him. Calum tried to stare him down, but felt his gaze drift away. Fuck it, and I haven’t even done anything wrong.
“I hope the damn fool’s not gone wandering off,” Pete muttered.
Calum’s stomach lurched. Might Jasper have done that, even after the warning? Had he been listening? It was all too easy for arrogant city slickers to underestimate the danger of the Wyoming wilderness, particularly when they were in search of a photo. They’d had more guests injured because they weren’t looking at what they were doing than through any other means.
But it was dark. Couldn’t take photos in the dark.
His father sighed and turned to Vera. “Which room’s he in?”
“Seven.”
Angie stood. “Want me to check on him?”
“Let Calum go,” Vera said.
Calum didn’t miss the look his father shot Vera. There was an awkward pause before his father said, “Fine.”
Calum pushed back his chair and made his way to the guest wing. As far as his father was concerned, Calum trod a line of respectability so thin it was almost invisible, which was probably why Calum kept slipping off it. He didn’t like being treated as if he were the biggest disappointment of his father’s life. He worked hard without complaining. He’d stayed there on the ranch when he could have left. What more did the man want?
Yeah, well, Calum knew the answer to that, but it was one thing he couldn’t do even if he wanted to, and he didn’t. He ran his fingers through his hair and then rapped at Jasper’s door. When there was no answer, he knocked harder.
“Jasper? You in there?”
Nothing. Christ. Now what was he supposed to do? What if the English guy had wandered off and gotten lost as night fell? Or fallen and injured himself? Been bitten by an annoyed snake? Mauled by a bear?
Calum tried the door and it clicked open. The light from the hallway shone on Jasper who lay on his back, fast asleep, still in the clothes he’d arrived in, tie included, though it was loosened. Calum’s breath caught in his throat. Something about watching guys sleeping that calmed him. No matter what they were really like, you could make them what you wanted them to be while they slept. Calum smiled, closed the door and returned to the dining room.
“He’s sleeping,” he told his father and sat. “Long journey, I guess.”
His father tsked.
“Angie, when you’ve done eating, put a note under his door telling him we’ve left him snack in the fridge,” Vera said. “Then make sure you remember to leave him one.”
“Okay. I’ll make him my favorite sandwich.”
“Not peanut butter and chocolate spread, sweetheart,” Vera said. “Beef would be good or there’s some chicken.”
Angie was twenty years old and a mite slow, but she had the sweetest nature. She’d come to the ranch, age eight, when her mother had married Calum’s father, and had been Calum’s shadow ever since. It hurt that his father seemed to love her more than he’d ever loved his son, but Calum couldn’t begrudge Angie that affection. Shouldn’t.
“So folks,” his father said, addressing the table. “Looks like our English guy’s tuckered out already and he hasn’t even been on a horse yet.”
There was a burst of laughter and Calum prickled with annoyance. Jasper had been travelling for over a day and Jackson Hole was seven hours behind London time, which meant it was two in the morning as far as the guy’s body clock was concerned.
“How about we stand up and introduce ourselves,” his father said. “You already know who I am, but I’ll start us off. Erik Nielson. Owner of the Neilson Ranch. This spread belonged to my father and my grandfather before him and one day it will be Calum and Angie’s.”
And why did that feel like a noose around his neck? Calum had known since he was a small boy that this was his life, all mapped out for him, but as much as the place was in his blood, he wanted staying here to be his decision, not his father’s. There was a world out there he’d never seen and he resented the fact that his father didn’t care.
The wranglers stood up one after the other, mumbled their names and sat down again. The first of the guests to speak was the newly married guy. He had one of those faces that always seemed to be smiling. “I’m Brad Olsen and this is my wife, Nita. We’re from LA. We’ve been married for seven weeks, one day and,” he checked his watch, “three hours. I’m a lawyer and Nita’s a realtor, so if you need a house in California, talk to us.”
The husband of the other couple stood. “Sam West and my wife, Judy. From Tucson. I run a greenhouse business. Judy doesn’t work.” He sat down.
“We have three kids,” Judy hissed. “That’s work.”
“You make it work,” he snapped back.
Oh God. Calum hoped he didn’t have to take this pair out tomorrow.
“How about the two beauties at the end of the table?” his father asked.
“I’m Melissa Saxon. This is my best friend Janie Dunmore. We’re from LA too. We don’t have jobs yet, but we do have wealthy daddies.” She giggled.
The wranglers were going to love them. Spoiled rich girls with more money than sense. The grin on Ring’s face widened.
“I paint,” Janie said.
Calum perked up. She might want to spend an afternoon painting. He could take her to the p
lace he liked to draw.
Melissa snorted. “Squares and circles. You haven’t sold anything yet.”
Calum swallowed his sigh. More bickering.
“Better not get any ideas about not working, Angie,” his father said. “If you don’t do your chores, you don’t get paid.”
Angie’s pretence of pouting made Calum’s heart ache.
“I’m Matt Taylor from New York. I own an air-conditioning company. Married, two kids.”
“Paul Kenyon. I run a modeling agency in New York. Divorced, no kids.”
Calum chuckled to himself as Melissa and Janie straightened up and smiled in Paul’s direction with perfect white teeth. The grin had fallen off Ring’s face. He wasn’t going to be much competition for a guy who ran a modeling agency.
“Our absent guest’s name is Jasper Randolph,” said Calum’s father. “He’s from London, England. You’ll have to ask him what he does for a living when he’s not lazing around in bed.”
“He saved my life on the plane.”
In the silence that followed Melissa’s announcement, Calum’s jaw dropped along with several others.
“She was choking,” Janie said. “Coughing and coughing. She couldn’t breathe. It was so frightening.”
Melissa glared at her. “My story.” She milked the moment as everyone looked at her. “I couldn’t get air into my lungs. Jasper did the Hind…lick maneuver and out popped the yogurt-coated cranberry and I breathed again.”
“Good for him.” Calum’s father struggled to keep a straight face. The guys from New York and a couple of the wranglers didn’t even try.
“Have any of you ridden before?” Vera asked in a loud voice and glared at the sniggering ranch hands.
Apparently, they all had, though Calum knew they’d have to go through an assessment tomorrow. No way would the horses be put at risk through hotshot riding. A know-it-all attitude would get guests a week on an old horse for beginners. Calum wondered what sort of a rider the Englishman was.
Cowboys Down Page 2
