More Than a Rancher

by Claire McEwen

  Jenna couldn’t help it. His words were so unexpected she started to laugh. “I’m sorry.... It’s just not what I expected! You watch dancing? Ballroom dancing?”

  “Yeah! I watch all the shows. I try to learn stuff off of the internet, too.”

  The excitement in his voice was palpable and Jenna was amazed. She would never have pegged this boy, who looked so at home in this rugged country, to be a fan of television dance programs. “Do you study dance?” she asked.

  He shook his head regretfully. “We have line dancing, Western dancing, that kind of stuff. But no dance school around here.” He glanced around as if worried someone might hear him. “Even if there was, I probably wouldn’t be allowed to take classes.”

  “Why not?”

  “My family doesn’t exactly approve of boys—” he made quotation marks in the air in front of him “—waltzing around in tights.”

  “Oh, it’s like that, huh?” Jenna asked softly, studying the teen’s profile. His focus was back on the tire but his mouth was a grim, frustrated line. “If it’s any consolation, my family’s still trying to get me to go to law school.” She truly felt for him.

  “Really?” His expression brightened at that. “Are you gonna go?”

  “No,” she answered. “I’m a dancer, even if they don’t see it.”

  “That’s how I feel!” He had the spare on now and was staring at her, eyes wide. Jenna realized she was probably the first person he’d ever met who understood that. She wished there were something she could do for him. If he lived in San Francisco, she’d give him her card and encourage him to come to the ballroom for lessons. But out here? Somewhere beyond the tiny town of Benson? There wasn’t much she could do.

  She moved her bags to the backseat and the boy loaded the flat tire into her trunk.

  “I can’t thank you enough,” she told him. The flat tire had been just one more bad event in a terrible day, but right now she was almost glad it had happened. She liked this kid.

  He blushed and looked away. “It’s no big deal,” he said.

  “I never got your name.”

  “Paul.”

  “Paul, I’m Jenna. I wish there was more I could do to help you get started dancing, but I’m only here for the weekend. But when you’re looking at videos, make sure they show real technique, not just where to put your feet. The instructor should show you exactly how to place your arms and legs, your torso, your head. They should talk about the shape of your hands—even what part of your foot hits the floor first. Go slow and pay attention to all that.”

  Paul nodded, his face serious. He was obviously taking in every word. “I’ll do that. Thanks, Jenna.”

  He stuck out his hand and she shook it awkwardly. “Do you know where you’re going from here?” he asked. “Want me to set you in the right direction?”

  “That would be great. It’s Jack Baron’s place? It’s off of...” Jenna tried to picture the name of the street, scrawled on a piece of paper in her car.

  “I know it,” Paul said. “He’s a friend of my brother’s. Head back to the highway and go south about a mile and a half before making a right turn. The road will take you back behind the town, then out toward the mountains. There’s a driveway off to the right that heads uphill. Take the left fork on that driveway and you’re there.”

  “I’m lucky you came along.” More than lucky—profoundly relieved. “Good luck, Paul. And thank you again for the rescue.”

  “Glad to help.” He tipped his hat in her direction and went to get his horse. Jenna watched him go. Kids were her soft spot. Especially teenagers. Maybe when she finally got her own dance studio, she’d create some kind of program for kids like Paul, living out in the country with no support for their dreams. They could train with her for the summer and stay with host families. Kind of like foreign exchange students but an exchange from rural to urban.

  She looked around at the landscape that in some places looked more like a moonscape. The sun was getting high and a dry heat was building, baking the sagebrush and filling the air with its spicy scent. If this was Paul’s home, then a chilly summer in San Francisco really would be like a stay in a foreign country. And as for her, a city girl, this rocky pasture felt even stranger than that. An alien world, Jenna decided as she got into the driver’s seat and started the engine. And she was ready to get back to nice familiar planet Earth.

  She turned the car around and started back on the rutted dirt road she’d somehow thought would lead her to Samantha’s ranch. Knowing now what it could do to her tires, she crept along, heart pounding. Watching Paul had given her some idea of what to do if she had another blowout, but she was already riding on her spare.

  Gratefully, Jenna saw the highway getting closer. Motion in her rearview mirror had her glancing back. Paul was riding behind her, a little ways off the track to avoid the dust her wheels kicked up. She smiled. What a good guy—making sure she got back to the main road safely. This was why she loved working with young people. No matter how murky or dismal the future might seem, they always gave her hope.

  Meeting an aspiring dancer out here was such an odd coincidence. Jenna remembered the way Paul’s face had lit up when he talked about dance. Maybe she’d ended up in the middle of nowhere for a reason—to encourage him in his dream. If that was the case, then she’d been wrong about the meaning of that exploding smoothie. Maybe today was somehow meant to be.

  CHAPTER TWO

  “WHERE WERE YOU?” Samantha came rushing out of the beautiful log-and-glass house and down the stone steps. “I was thinking about calling the sheriff!”

  “Sorry to worry you,” Jenna apologized, getting out of the Mini and giving her friend a huge hug. “I had a small mishap on the way, but everything’s fine.”

  Jenna held her friend at arm’s length, admiring her glossy black hair and the way the mountain sun had sprayed tiny freckles across her porcelain skin. Samantha was wearing green to match her eyes—eyes that looked happier and more relaxed than Jenna had ever seen them when her friend had lived in San Francisco. “You look wonderful!” Jenna exclaimed. “Being engaged suits you!”

  Samantha laughed and waved her hand with the huge emerald ring on it. “Can you believe it? In three months I’ll be married. Who would have thought?”

  “I would.” A deep voice, ringing with its customary humor, had both women turning to where Samantha’s fiancé, Jack, was approaching from the barn, two border collies trotting at his heels.

  “Jack!” Jenna smiled in delight.

  “Red!” Jack grinned, teasing her with the nickname he’d given her in honor of her hair. It was amazing how fast, how perfectly, Jack had fit in with his fiancée’s best friends. Jack wrapped her in a hug and squeezed her so hard he lifted her off the ground. “Thanks for coming out here and entertaining Sam for a few days. I hope you’re up for a lot of bridal magazines and seating charts.”

  Jenna realized she hadn’t thought this through. How was she supposed to muster any enthusiasm for weddings when she’d just been so royally betrayed? She plastered a smile on her face. “I’m not surprised about the charts!” Jenna forced out a playful wink, but it must have come out more like a grimace, because Samantha looked momentarily alarmed. “What else would we expect from Miss Organization?”

  Samantha shrugged sheepishly and Jack went over to put his arm around his future wife, kissing the top of her head. The love in his expression was so vivid that jealousy bit its sharp teeth into Jenna’s heart. How incredible to have a man look at you as if you were the only thing that really mattered. Would anyone ever feel that way about her? At this moment, it seemed pretty unlikely.

  Shaking off that dream, she pasted on another smile. “We can’t just sit around reading wedding magazines! I have a competition in a month and you promised me lots of exercise!”

  “Excellent.
We’ll exercise and talk about weddings.”

  Jenna hoped she could. Knowing how much heartache she was carrying around right now, she’d probably burst into tears the first time she opened one of Samantha’s magazines.

  “I’m just glad you’re here, Jenna,” Jack said. “As much as I can’t wait to marry this woman, I could use a break from debating the merits of lace versus tulle!” Jack hugged Samantha even closer as he teased her. “I’ll be hiding in the barn this weekend. Doing manly things.”

  Samantha looked up at Jack with a radiant smile and then turned and held out her hand to Jenna. “Come see the house.” She pulled her friend close and put an arm around her. “Jack, if you’re so into manly things, would you mind bringing Jenna’s bags in?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Jack tipped his hat to his wife in mock subservience.

  Jenna loved Jack. He was more of a big brother than her own would ever be. Maybe she was a little jealous of Samantha and Jack’s love, but she was genuinely happy for her friend. That happiness was what she needed to somehow keep her focus on this weekend. Her woes and heartache would have to wait until she got back to San Francisco on Sunday.

  She followed Samantha up the steps and walked across the planks of the broad porch. It was furnished with wooden rockers and a porch swing. “This place is beautiful!” It really was. Another thing to focus on besides Jeff. “Look at the views!” Pine trees and mountain meadows rolled out to one side of the house. Pasture unfolded on the other. And the granite crags of the Sierra Nevada gave a majestic backdrop to all that beauty.

  “I promise, it was Jack I fell in love with.” Samantha gave her a wink as she pushed open the heavy front door. “But I have to admit, I really like his house, too.”

  Jenna gasped when they walked inside. “I can see why!”

  A massive great room with a slate floor opened in front of them, surrounded by floor-to-ceiling arched windows that let in the light and framed the spectacular scenery outside. A river-rock fireplace rose on one wall.

  Samantha led the way upstairs and Jenna tried not to envy the bedrooms filled with light and huge four-poster beds, the bathrooms Zen-like with limestone and more slate. When she saw the fitness room, bigger than her entire studio apartment in San Francisco, Jenna did a few pirouettes across the floor and stopped in front of the large mirror on the wall. “I think I’m in heaven! I may never leave!”

  Her friend grinned. “I’d like that very much. Stay forever. There’s certainly room.”

  She looked at Samantha in the mirror they were both facing. “You know me—I could never leave San Francisco.”

  “And how is San Francisco?” Samantha asked.

  “Still the same amazing city by the bay.” But even Jenna could hear the sarcasm in her voice.

  “That good?” Samantha asked gently.

  Jenna had promised herself she’d be cheerful for her friend, no matter what was going wrong in her own life. Samantha deserved a supportive, happy maid of honor. “Oh, you know, when is life perfect, anyway?”

  Jenna turned away from the mirror, picked up a five-pound weight from the rack and did a few biceps curls. Glancing at Samantha, who was leaning against the wall watching her with a concerned expression, Jenna lifted the little barbell and pointed to her biceps with her free hand. “Look at those guns!”

  Samantha smiled at the joke but Jenna’s attempt at diversion didn’t work. “Stop pretending everything’s fine. You always do this.”

  “Do what?” Jenna switched the weight to her other hand. “What do I do?”

  “Pretend you’re happy when I can tell from a mile away that you’re not.”

  “I don’t want to bring you down,” Jenna admitted. “This should be a joyful time for you. You’re getting married.”

  “Let me guess. Jeff?”

  “Now known as He Who Cheats with Groupies.”

  Samantha’s hand went to her heart. “You’re kidding.”

  “Nope. Wish I was.” Jenna did a few more curls to distract her from the knots in her stomach—the knots that had been there for a week now.

  “What happened?”

  “I went to his show last weekend. I thought I’d surprise him backstage with a cake for his birthday. But someone had beat me to it—and her gift wasn’t cake.”

  “He didn’t...” Samantha paused, eyes wide. “They weren’t...”

  “Let’s just say her present didn’t involve clothing.” Jenna set the weight back on the rack.

  “No.” Samantha crossed the floor in a few quick steps, pulling Jenna into a hug. “That is so unfair. Awful. I am so sorry, Jen.”

  Jenna’s voice came out muffled against her friend’s shoulder. “I finally talked to him today. He called while I was driving out here. It turns out that wasn’t the only time he’s cheated.” The comfort in the hug was going to make her cry again and she didn’t want to. She stepped back.

  “Unbelievable.” Outrage had Samantha pacing the room. “First my idiot ex, and now yours? What is wrong with these men?”

  “I don’t know. But until I figure it out, I’m going to avoid them.” She couldn’t believe she’d missed so many signs with Jeff. If she’d been paying attention, she might have thought more carefully about what he might be doing all those nights on the road.

  “But if you just avoid them, then you’ll never meet a good one.” Samantha paused, a dreamy expression flitting across her face. Jenna knew she was thinking about Jack. “And some of them are really great.”

  “I’m starting to think you got the only good one.” Jenna hoped her words weren’t actually true, but at this point, post-Jeff, it seemed like a distinct possibility.

  “You’ll find someone.” Samantha put a hand on her arm. “You’re beautiful. Look at you!” She turned Jenna gently until they were facing the mirror again and picked up a lock of her hair. “Long red curls, huge blue eyes, amazing figure. You look like a miniature Rita Hayworth!”

  Jenna laughed. “Emphasis on miniature.” Samantha was about five foot eight. Next to her and four inches shorter, Jenna felt dwarfed.

  “Stop that! It will work out, I promise.”

  “Not until my radar gets better, it won’t. I choose these guys who cheat. Jeff always had other women hanging around after shows, but I just figured it was part of him being a musician. And when Brent and I dated, he didn’t technically cheat, but only because I broke up with him right before he was about to.”

  “And has Brent started circling yet? Now that he knows you’re single?”

  Jenna smiled. “You mean with his ‘I made the biggest mistake of my life letting you go’ speech? Not quite yet, but knowing my luck, he will soon.”

  “What would happen if you ever dated him again? I mean, it was sweet and romantic when you were in love and dance partners....” The dreamy look was back. Now that Samantha was engaged, she wanted everyone to have their own happily-ever-after.

  “He’d probably last about two weeks before he started looking over my shoulder for his next conquest. He just likes the chase. He isn’t and never was in love with me. Maybe I’m his backup plan for when he’s done playing the field.”

  “Well, either way, he’s an idiot, too,” Samantha declared.

  “It’s okay. He’s a good dance partner. And I’m not in love with him, either, anymore.” But she had been—very much so. The decision to keep working with him after he’d broken her heart was one of the hardest she’d ever made, but the smartest for her career. They really were good together and had two national championships to prove it.

  A deep weariness hit Jenna in a crushing wave. She didn’t want to talk about Jeff or Brent or any other guy who’d left her. “Let’s get outside so you can show me this ranch of yours. Can I see your grandmother’s house? Where it all began?” Samantha had inherited her grandparents’ ra
nch last year, which was how she’d met Jack and fallen in love, leaving San Francisco to be with him.

  Samantha giggled. “Where it all began. I like that. Maybe we should apply to make it a historical landmark.”

  Jenna felt relieved that her subject change had worked. “It should be! The site where the extremely urban Samantha Rylant fell in love with mountains and a cowboy. It is kind of historic!”

  They headed downstairs. Once outside, they walked down a narrow, rocky path that took them to the old ranch house. Its weathered white paint and sagging porch made it the complete opposite of Jack’s stone-and-glass modern home. Samantha took out a key. “We’re using it as my office and a guest house for friends and family.” She showed Jenna through the old rooms with their high ceilings and quaint wainscoting. Her office was so perfectly organized that it looked like one of those catalog photos of a home office, complete with neatly labeled baskets.

  Jenna had never understood how Samantha had been able to live out here in the old, empty farmhouse by herself for days at a time. It seemed spooky to be alone in a house that had been closed up for years and was situated so far from everything. But now she got it. There was a cozy, comfortable feeling in the old home, such an air of happy history that Jenna couldn’t imagine not wanting to stay there.

  Samantha locked the front door behind them and they started back up the path. Maybe the clean alpine air was exactly what Jenna needed. She inhaled huge lungfuls as they wandered through the ranch, trying to take in the purity of it and exhale all her anger. She just didn’t want to feel it anymore. Beyond the barn, they passed a few smaller corrals and started up a gravel road to the upper pastures, closer to the mountains.

  Without a flat tire to worry about, the weathered ranch buildings and quiet pastures inspired serenity. The age-old mountains with their miles and miles of wilderness put her soap-opera troubles into perspective.

  Samantha stopped by the wooden pasture fence. “Maybe we just need to set up some guidelines. You know, parameters to make sure you weed out the bad ones.”