Six Pack Ranch [5] Rocky Mountain Rebel

by Vivian Arend

  Vicki paused as she examined the alley. Graffiti marred the brickwork in a few places, but mostly there were orderly dumpsters and a few cars parked outside shop rear-exits. The alley wasn’t a dirty mess, but it wasn’t a place of beauty either, and Vicki’s breath caught in her throat.

  This was her. Trapped between two things. She wasn’t a foul mess, but she wasn’t doing what she needed to get the hell out of the hole she’d fallen in.

  Fallen, or been shoved?

  No, she wouldn’t play the blame game. No matter how she’d been treated while growing up, no matter what her family’s reputation, she was an adult and responsible for her own actions.

  Right now? There was no one to blame for being unemployed but herself. She’d love to say it was Eric’s fault, but he wasn’t the one who’d moved his fat head into her fists.

  She shouldered her backpack and headed down the alley, thankful he hadn’t pressed assault charges. He could have, and it would have been nothing more than another round of he said, she said… The town bad girl acting out against the star valedictorian.

  Another round with another loss for her.

  The end of the alley was mere steps away, the sunshine on the sidewalk her goal, when someone stepped around the corner and she jerked to a stop.

  Images of vindictive mob-crews sent by Eric vanished as Joel Coleman blocked her path. She paused, making sure she was in position to run if needed. Not that Joel had ever done anything to threaten her, but being cautious was only smart.

  “What?” If the word came out sharp and defensive, so be it.

  Joel examined her carefully. “You okay?”

  “Just peachy,” she lied, the sarcasm in her voice tinny and bright.

  “Don’t fuck around,” he growled.

  The words rumbled over her, dark and rough, and for once she allowed herself to look him over. To take in the broad width of his shoulders stretching his T-shirt. Massive biceps pushing the sleeves. Narrow waist and well-worn jeans, with a lighter patch right there where her gaze shouldn’t dwell. He shifted his weight, and the impulse to stare a little longer was hard to fight when his thighs and his…

  Vicki dragged her gaze up to the relative safety of his face. Only it wasn’t safe, not by a long shot. Bright blue eyes twinkled at her, a lazy love-em-and-leave-em smirk on his firm lips. His hair long enough she wished she could step in closer and thread her fingers through it to see if it was as soft as it looked.

  Yeah, if it wasn’t the stupidest idea ever, she would love to get a taste of Joel Coleman. Always had wanted one, never would take herself up on the craving.

  She took a deep breath and stared over his shoulder. “Sorry. I’m still riled up.”

  “I figured.” Joel stepped to the side, his body swaying back into her line of vision, and the concern on his face nearly killed her. “I really did want to make sure you were okay.”

  “I’m fine.” Vicki paused. The words stuck in her throat, but he had helped. “And…thanks. I mean, earlier, at the restaurant.”

  “No problem.” He glanced at his watch. “You finish your shift already?”

  No use in lying. He’d find out soon enough she’d been canned. “I’m going to look for a different job. One more suited to my personality. Sorry, no peach pies tomorrow.”

  He nodded. “Sorry to see you go.”

  Vicki needed to get home. Needed to hide, and not have to think for a few minutes. “See you around.”

  She shouldered past him, ignoring his hand that brushed her arm as she walked by. She was at the edge of the alley, stepping into the sunlight, when he spoke again.

  “I heard Orson’s Hardware is hiring stockers.”

  Vicki paused. Glanced over her shoulder. “Thanks. That might be a better place for me. I’ll look into it.”

  “Vicki, if…” His words trickled to a stop, and the strangeness in that alone was enough to pin her feet to the ground.

  She turned to face him, waiting for him to finish. “What?”

  Joel was looking at her. Really looking, as if seeing beyond the tough-girl façade she wore like armor. She tugged her backpack a little closer, hiding behind it.

  “If you ever need, well, someone to talk to. Or a hand. Let me know, okay?”

  She should have responded. Should have blurted out a noncommittal thanks, but his offer knocked all logic from her brain and left her with nothing but emotional turmoil.

  They stood for a moment, nothing said, just a growing sense of disaster looming as Vicki fought the urge to give in. Because giving in would be a bad idea—she was sure of it.

  It seemed like an earnest offer. Maybe. Or maybe more of the same of what she’d been handed over the years. People who appeared to be one way, while only wanting to take advantage of the trusting and the naïve.

  A bad girl desperate to change her spots couldn’t allow the lure of attraction to lead her astray. She lifted her chin and turned without a backward glance, walking away from temptation in the form of one Joel Coleman.

  Because the last thing this rebel needed was to get involved with another rebel.

  Chapter Two

  Vicki spent all Friday dropping off resumes around town, managing—barely—to ignore the snarky comments at a few places. She collapsed onto the couch and stared at the ceiling, flipping through the nasty comebacks she hadn’t voiced.

  Fuck them for being small-minded, small-town bigots.

  From flat on her back, not only the ceiling but the kitchen and the door to the bathroom were visible. Her couch was a daybed she turned into her real bed for the night. The tiny bachelor suite had everything she needed to be independent, but at times, man, did the walls close in.

  It was the best she’d been able to manage when she escaped the family home. Hadn’t been easy. None of it. Which made her current lack of job situation even more annoying. She knew better. She knew she needed to keep her cool.

  The wind rustled the curtains, bringing fall air to swirl around her. The moment’s refreshment helped her refocus, and her breathing calmed.

  Okay. She’d blown it. But it wasn’t the end of the world—not yet. She’d planned and saved and scrimped. She had a couple months’ rent squirreled away, and hopefully Joel’s job lead would play out in her favour.

  Joel.

  She shouldn’t think about him. Shouldn’t imagine his gorgeous eyes focused on her for real. In a time and place she could give in and take a little pleasure.

  Vicki scrambled to her feet. Nope. The option was totally out of the question. Even if the Coleman twins weren’t known as sexual whirlwinds, Joel was in a whole different camp. The kind of kids who back in school wandered the hallways taking up more than their share of space and attention. It wasn’t as if the better-off folks in Rocky wore a lot of designer jeans or fancy duds, but the Colemans and the Hansols were not in the same pecking order, and she knew it.

  Joel might have worn hand-me-downs from his big brothers, but they were always clean and well mended. Vicki had made sure her and her sister Lynn’s stuff was always washed, although it meant learning how to do their own laundry at ten years old, but there were no hand-me-downs she wanted to wear.

  The phone rang, and she grabbed it. “Hello?”

  “Vicki Hansol?”

  “Yes.”

  “Mark Orson at Orson’s Hardware. You put in an application for the position in the stockroom.”

  Vicki straightened, even though the instinctive move was invisible. “Yes, sir. I’m looking for full-time hours. I have a recommendation from my—”

  “Skip it. My manager was in the café yesterday right before you got your walking papers.”

  Shit. Bubbles burst even before the job offer was on the table. “I see. Well, thank you for calling.”

  The man’s laugh broke over the line. “Slow down, girl. I’m not brushing you off. In fact, from what Davis told me about the situation, I like your spunk. If you’re a hard worker, I can use you. It’s minimum wage to start, salary
increases quarterly if things work out. Two-week trial, though, to make sure you fit in with the boys.”

  Vicki clutched the phone in shock. “Really? I mean, that would be fabulous. When do you want me to start?”

  “Come in Monday at seven a.m. I’ll get you to fill in the paperwork, and you can pull a shift.” Mark paused for a minute. “You’ll be working with a full crew of guys. Can you handle that?”

  Since Eric didn’t work there, she figured she’d be okay. “No problem.”

  She crossed her fingers she wasn’t lying through her teeth.

  “I’ll find a spare coverall for you to wear. My daughter used to work in the shop before she moved away, and I think she left a couple around.”

  “Thank you.”

  Vicki hung up somewhat in shock. Only one-day unemployed and back into the swing of things. Stocking shelves was far safer as well. Sherry had been right. Eric was at the café all the time. He’d never pop his head into a hardware and seed shop. Probably had fancy mechanics and other flunkies to do his manual labour.

  The world looked a tiny bit brighter. She slipped to the wall calendar and added a couple notes. October stretched before her, and the happy little image of a cartoon turkey decorating Thanksgiving Day mocked her.

  Should she try to get together with her family, or was that asking for more heartache?

  The thumbtack holding the calendar to the wall nudged loose and everything fell to the floor, the pages flipping like some fancy art shot in a movie, and Vicki stilled. Months spinning past. Her life whirling away, minimum wage and dead-end jobs. Tossing her fists every time someone made a comment about her family.

  Was that all she had to look forward to?

  God, she was an emotional mess today. She hauled open the fridge and grabbed a Coke, plopping down on the edge of the mattress harder than she should. When the creaking settled, she glanced around, shaking her head in frustration.

  Tiny apartment. A small pile of clothing. Her motorbike—so little to show for her life so far. Not even a high school diploma.

  Nothing but her pride, and lately even that kept taking a bruising.

  And yet…

  She’d made a difference when it counted the most. She nabbed the picture frame from beside the bed, the one showcasing her middle sister. Lynn’s innocent smile shone out with unmarred joy.

  You were strong enough to do what’s right. The words whispered through her head.

  She just had to believe it.

  The phone rang, and she snatched it up, panicked for a moment that Mark had changed his mind. “Hello?”

  “Hi, Vicki, it’s Karen Coleman. You got a minute?”

  Well now, this was unexpected. Karen belonged to another of the local Coleman clans—the Whiskey Creek side. The woman had gone to school with Vicki’s oldest sister. Vicki swung to vertical so she was seated comfortably and listened carefully. “No problem. What’s up?”

  “I’ve got a far-out idea, and I want to run it past you. Remember when you helped at that kids’ camp a couple years ago? You were the chef’s assistant, right?”

  A shiver shook Vicki as memories swept in, but somehow she kept her voice steady. “Yeah?”

  “I’m trying to organize something for next summer, and I thought of you. It’s not set in stone yet, but if things work out the way I hope, I’ll be running weeklong camps in the Willmore Wilderness Park. I’m coordinating the horses and wranglers, all that side. My partner has already got a head cook lined up, but he’ll need help. I thought of you.”

  Two job offers in one day? Maybe life was taking a turn for the better.

  “When would it start?”

  “First trips with customers begin the May long weekend. We’d get together early in the month to make sure things are in place, then you’d work in shifts through the summer. I’ve got a friend who has an on-site camp you could move to on your days off. It’s a pretty transient job, but I figured you might enjoy the change of pace. Plus, you get to ride horses to the job site and out—fun stuff.”

  Elation at the idea of getting the hell out of Rocky mixed with instant terror as Vicki heard she would have to ride.

  God, how was it possible to simultaneously feel two conflicting emotions like this? She’d love to move away. She’d love the cooking. The rest of it? Not so much.

  Her mouth had gone dry with fear. “When will you know details?”

  “I hope to have all the contracts in place by early January. I figure that would give you enough warning. And Vicki? The dude ranch I’m coordinating with always seems to need a new full-time assistant-chef come the fall. If they like what they see over the summer, there’s a chance they’d hire you full time for the winter season.”

  The trap caging her in edged open a crack.

  Vicki ignored the potential trouble screaming at her and focused on the good points, allowing herself to hope. “It sounds wonderful. Thank you for thinking of me.”

  “You’re a good kid. Got lots of compliments when you did the camp. I remember hearing that.”

  Karen obviously didn’t hear any of the other details Vicki had fought to keep under wraps, which was a good thing. “Let me know what you need. If I can help out at all beforehand.”

  Karen agreed to stay in touch and left Vicki with her head buzzing with possibilities.

  The future had just changed. A way out of Rocky, and away from harsh memories. Only…trail rides?

  A shiver shook her entire body. Horses. Damn it.

  Why’d she have to be the only girl on the planet who was afraid of the silly beasts?

  Something hard hit his shoulder, dragging Joel’s attention from the saddle he was fixing. “What the hell?”

  Jesse stalked toward him. He kicked aside the dustpan he’d thrown before putting the stiff bristles of a push broom to the floor and raising dust. “You’re in dreamland. Get your act together. I want to leave in the next couple of hours.”

  Ah, damn. He’d forgotten about Jesse’s grand plans. “I’m not going.”

  His twin pulled to a halt in mid-sweep. “You got a better idea?”

  Joel shrugged. “I figured I’d head to Traders.”

  Jesse damn near rolled his eyes. “We can see the family every fucking week if we want. Traders Pub is old and boring. This is new people, new faces…new women.”

  God, he was so not interested. Plus, he wasn’t going to let Jesse get away with that kind of bullshit. “Family is not a problem to hang with, and you know it.”

  “They’re falling like flies, man. I’m not ready to settle down.”

  Joel laughed out loud at the panic in his twin’s voice even as he wondered at the huge leap in logic Jesse had taken.

  “Settle down? Good grief, what are you talking about?” Joel hung up the saddle and turned to his brother. “No one expects you to get hitched.”

  “But look at them all.” Jesse lifted his finger and pointed in a general circle around them. “The three oldest in the family are done for. Daniel’s got the three boys now, and Blake and Jaxi are expecting their third. Matt and Hope are planning a winter wedding. You know Ma’s gonna start plotting things for Travis and us soon. She wants all her boys hooked up and happy.”

  “Doesn’t mean anything.” Joel smacked Jesse on the shoulder. “You seriously think she wants us to get married? Hell, no. The way she carried on when we moved across the road into the trailer was bad enough.”

  Jesse snorted. “Still miss the three square meals a day we got when we lived at home.”

  “Bullshit on that as well,” Joel called over his shoulder as he headed toward the other end of the barn to finish his chores. “You’re mooching at least two meals a day from her, so don’t go trying to sound as if you’re hard done by and starving.”

  Joel measured out oats for each of the horses, taking his time and enjoying their easy movements as they crowded toward the front of their stalls and waited. Comfortable with him, with his step and body language. The newer animals were stabl
ed separately, but these were the family’s usual rides—steady and consistent. Happy to be brought out to check fence lines or wander through the cattle, although with the distances involved on the ranch, often the horses rested while the boys used quads or trucks.

  There was something special about having the horses available, though. Joel bumped his gelding’s head aside with his torso. “Move your fat head out of the way.”

  He’d barely tipped the bucket upright when Trigger retaliated, nose against Joel’s side to push him off his feet.

  Joel laughed as he caught his balance. “Mischief maker.”

  If a horse could grin?

  Trigger snorted before lowering his head and concentrating on more important things like demolishing his dinner.

  Jesse stuck his head around the doorframe. “You serious about not joining us?”

  “Serious as shit.” Joel moved steadily. He was nearly done his to-do list and eager to get to the end of it. “Go on. I bought beer. You can grab the case from my truck. You and Travis have a blast, and tell me about it later.”

  “Your loss.” Jesse paused. “Hey, but thanks for the brewskies. I’ll be back sometime on Sunday if things go well.”

  Joel strolled through his remaining chores, a strange peace hovering over him at having no frantic plans for the weekend. He wandered outside in time to catch his oldest brother Blake parking one of the tractors in the common equipment yard between the two main Six Pack ranch houses.

  Blake nodded as he swung down, closing the door behind him. “You have a good day of it?”

  “As always.”

  Blake took off his cowboy hat and wiped his brow with his sleeve. “Yeah, you pretty much always have a good time, don’t you? You and Jesse coming to Traders tonight?”

  “I’ll be there. Jesse’s got other plans, Travis as well.”

  His oldest brother grinned. “Trouble as usual—that much is also consistent. Make sure those two remember they’re expected to stick around for Thanksgiving next weekend, okay? No wild getaways, just a nice quiet day with the family.”