More Than a Rancher

by Claire McEwen

  “I have to believe that society has progressed,” Jenna said softly into his ear. “Just in the last ten years so much has changed about how people think and what people accept. I have to hope that it won’t be nearly as hard for Paul as it was for you.”

  He clung to her words as closely as he held on to her body. When the music ended, the last few notes of Ella’s voice dripping like honey through the stillness, they slowed to a stop and stood for a moment with their arms around each other. Jenna didn’t step away and Sandro didn’t want her to, relishing the feel of her petite frame wrapped in his arms. And then she looked up at him and he saw the want in her eyes and the full curve of her lip.... He knew that what little self-control he’d been hanging on to had drifted off with the last few notes of music and been replaced with a need to kiss her again that was not going to be denied.

  His fingers moved almost of their own accord and wove through her bright red curls and he brought his mouth down on hers and felt the softness of her lips give beneath him. And then he was ravenous for the taste of her, for the cinnamon and flowers, and when a tiny moan escaped her, he pulled her closer and deepened the kiss further.

  The music finally broke the spell as the first bars of a classic disco song filled the dance floor around them with laughing, jostling people. His mouth left hers and she opened her eyes and smiled up at him, a little dazed, a little uncertain. He tucked her under his arm and led her off the floor, only one purpose in mind.

  There was a large potted lemon tree on the terrace near the penthouse wall. He made a beeline for it and pulled Jenna with him when he stepped behind it. He moved her to face him and felt her uneven breath skitter across his lips just before he kissed her, pulling her against him, one hand behind her neck and the other hand finally doing what he’d wanted to all evening—roaming freely down the exposed skin of her back, feeling her soft skin and her muscle, the silken strength of her under his hands.

  Her response to his caress fueled the insane need he was wrestling with inside. Pressing herself against him, her small hands easily found the skin of his back beneath his untucked shirt and trailed along the waistband of his jeans, and he knew his desire had won the battle with his common sense.

  “Damn, Jenna. I want you,” he whispered. Her breath was coming in shudders when she looked up at him and he leaned down to take her lower lip in his teeth and tug, just gently, and then to kiss her one more time.

  “I want you, too,” she murmured against him when he pulled back.

  “Jenna?” A voice called from the doors between the apartment and the terrace.

  “It’s Marlene!” Jenna gasped. “And I’m making out behind a tree at her party!” She started giggling then, leaning against him and shaking with laughter until Sandro couldn’t help but laugh, too. The image of the two of them emerging guiltily from behind a tree was so ridiculous, so adolescent.

  Apparently their shrubbery disguise was working, because Marlene gave up and went back inside.

  “I have to go do the tarot cards,” Jenna said, wiping the tears of laughter out from under her eyes.

  “What?” For a moment he had no idea what she meant.

  “Remember? I promised Marlene I’d read tarot cards.”

  He’d forgotten. He’d forgotten pretty much everything during that dance and that kiss.

  “Why don’t you let me read yours?” she asked with a saucy smile. All he wanted was to kiss that smile, to feel the shape of her teasing humor under his tongue.

  He should take a break, maybe go for a walk, get some distance between them before he made a fool of himself and started begging her for more than she could give right now. He’d forgotten, when he’d pulled her behind the tree, that she was at a work event and not free to act on the heat between them. “No, thanks, Red. I’m pretty sure I know my future. It involves a restaurant in Benson and a ranch with a whole lotta sheep.”

  “Try it—” Jenna gave him a gentle nudge with her elbow “—before you write it off. Sometimes it can be strangely accurate. And it’s not really about the future. It’s about accessing our higher self and gaining information about who we really are and what we really want. Who knows? You might learn something, cowboy.”

  “Nah, I don’t think my higher self really needs any more information. I’m pretty sure it’s on overload.”

  “Are you scared?” Jenna leaned on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. “I promise it won’t hurt,” she whispered into his ear, and his resolve evaporated with the feel of her warm breath.

  “No, I’m not scared,” he spluttered. “It’s just...”

  She took his hand. “Come on. You can be my first victim.” She led him back through the kitchen and dining room and down a hallway to a bedroom. The view out the window had been covered with a colorful tie-dyed banner with a single human eye, wide-open and staring, painted on it in black. The lights were off and scattered candles flickered. A rainbow of scarves had been draped over the furniture so that the entire place looked like some sort of hallucinogenic cave. Sandro looked at Jenna incredulously and she laughed.

  “I set this up earlier. A little ambiance never hurt!”

  “It’s original,” he conceded. “Gypsy caravan meets the hippie shops on Haight Street.”

  “Well, yes, I took advantage of San Francisco’s grooviest neighborhood for a fair amount of my decor.” She grinned. “But it was cheap and it lends a certain mystical air, I think!” She sat behind a card table and gestured to the seat opposite. “Now, sit down and let me read your future. If it’s really nothing but sheep, we’ll soon find out.”

  He sat, and she lit the candle next to her and he watched her dainty hands, with the red polished nails, hold the flame to the wick. How had he ended up in this psychedelic room, at this chaotic party, with this wild dancer, who, he was pretty sure, actually believed in the power of the tarot? Part of him wanted to just laugh and part of him wanted to run back to Benson as fast as he could. How had his life taken this crazy turn just when he’d been trying so hard to stay on the straight and narrow?

  “Relax,” Jenna told him, completely serious now. “Close your eyes. Take a deep breath, slowly, in and out. Take another. As you breathe in, allow the peace of this room—”

  Sandro opened one eye. “Peace? Really? I feel like I’m being indoctrinated into some kind of rainbow cult.”

  She giggled. “Shh! Fine. Close your eyes, don’t think about rainbows, and find inner peace. That’s an order! Think of a place where you feel really peaceful. Riding the range, maybe?”

  Sandro grinned at that but decided to humor her, as it was obvious she wasn’t going to let him escape without a reading. He shut his eyes and tried to imagine one of his favorite places, a big boulder that jutted over his parents’ ranch. It ran alongside a small stream and you could sit up there and hear the water running and look down over the ranch as it spread out from the foothills to the valley floor.

  He took a deep breath, realizing all of a sudden just how tense he’d been lately and how nice it actually was to sit in this scarf-draped room with Jenna.

  Sandro let the breath out and took another, picturing the way the sunrise looked from the boulder, lighting up the floor of the valley in an incandescent march of gold and pink. He imagined Jenna sitting next to him, his arm over her shoulders, her nestled underneath, where, he’d already discovered, she fit so perfectly.

  Jenna’s voice quietly disrupted his thoughts. “Now I’m going to give you the cards. You need to be the one to shuffle them. While you do, think of a question. Not a yes-or-no question. Just something in your life that’s been troubling you or something you’ve been wondering a lot about lately.”

  Sandro couldn’t help it. He thought of her. He should have been wondering about the restaurant—would he be able to make a success of it? Or about Paul—would he be okay now that he was dancing? But no, t
he question that dominated his thoughts was about Jenna. What should he do about how much he wanted her?

  Sandro took the cards and shuffled them awkwardly. They were bigger than your average deck of cards, and a little thicker. The images on them caught his eye. Swords, people in medieval garb, goblets—everything looked mystical and archaic.

  Jenna took the cards from under his hand, where he’d left them after he shuffled, and he could hear her start to deal. “When you are done with your question, when you are ready to receive the wisdom of the tarot, open your eyes.”

  “The wisdom of the tarot, huh?” He couldn’t help teasing her as he opened his eyes, the peace he’d felt picturing the ranch, and her there with him, leaving him calm and happy.

  “I’m very proud of that phrase.” Jenna grinned at him over the cards. “I’ve been working this party, and a few others, for several years now. I think it sounds kind of deep.”

  He laughed at that and loved the way she smiled up at him, shyly but a little defiantly, too, defending her outlandish hobby. Her eyes held such a sweetness that he wanted to spend his tarot time just basking in their light.

  “But seriously, if you’re open to it, the cards can teach things or offer information about how you might really feel about something you’re going through. They’re not meant to give an exact answer, just to guide.” She quickly dealt the cards in a pattern, four on the corners of a diamond shape, one in the center. “There are a lot of ways to lay out the cards, but for these readings I use a five-card spread. One of the simplest.”

  She was looking down, concentrating on the cards she’d dealt, her lower lip caught between her teeth, her pale skin glowing in the candlelight. With her long auburn curls trailing around her, she reminded him of a gypsy woman from long ago. Then she looked up at him, eyes wide. “You’ve got a lot going on here, Sandro.”

  Of course she’d say that. She knew he was opening a restaurant, helping out on the family ranch, teaching cooking and ferrying his brother to her ballroom every weekend. Yeah, safe to say he was busy.

  “Do you see the center card?”

  “You mean the upside-down naked lady? Yup, I see her.”

  Jenna laughed. “She isn’t completely naked. Her lower bits are covered! Anyway, that card is called the World and since it’s upside-down, we say it’s reversed. Cards take on sort of an inverse meaning when they’re upside-down. And placed in the center like this, it’s the overall theme of the reading. It symbolizes your present state.”

  “So...my present state is an upside-down half-naked woman?”

  “Elevate your mind, Sandro,” she teased. “It symbolizes frustration or a fear of change. It can mean that things are in the process of change.”

  “So I’m in transition.”

  “Well, yes. And possibly stuck there.”

  Well, he had to give it to the cards—they were right about that.

  “And over here on the left is the card that represents past influences that are still having an effect. You have the Tower here.”

  Sandro stood up and walked around to stand behind Jenna so he could see the cards the same way she did. The Tower looked pretty formidable. There were people falling off it headfirst and flames shooting out the top. “That doesn’t look good,” he said, shoving down a twinge of anxiety. She was good at this. She was even sucking him in.

  “Don’t worry.” Jenna glanced up at him, and he was actually glad to see that she was smiling. It didn’t matter if he knew this was all nonsense—that tower was creepy. “It looks worse than it is. It means you’ve been through some kind of enormous change, like getting a new job or moving, and you’ve done both of those, right?”

  “Yup.” This was weird. How could these cards be hitting so close to home? Jenna was most likely reading into them what she already knew about him.

  She pointed to the lowest card. Another upside-down naked woman—this one poured a jug of water into a pool. “This card also relates to your past, to the reasons behind the changes you made. It usually symbolizes self-doubt, stubbornness and an inability to express yourself.”

  “This is a pretty grim reading, Red. Wasn’t this supposed to be fun?” A shiver went over his skin and he abruptly left her side and went back to the seat across the desk.

  “Cheer up! You have to understand, these cards are just information about your past, about things that might be getting in your way. The next two cards deal with the future.”

  Sandro looked at the last two cards. One had two more naked people—that looked promising. But the other had a man dressed in black, riding a horse with the word Death written underneath. Fabulous.

  Jenna pointed to the Death card. “Don’t freak out. It doesn’t really mean death. In fact, upright like this it means the opposite. It means rebirth. The end of an old phase of life that’s served its purpose and the beginning of a new one. It’s the symbol of a major change.”

  He hated that he felt relieved. That she’d somehow enticed him so far into her hocus-pocus that the Death card had truly worried him for a moment there. “And the last one?” he asked.

  Even in the candlelight he could tell that she was blushing. Her voice came out soft. “This card is called the Lovers. Its position in the overall pattern of the spread signifies the potential inside whatever situation you are in.”

  His heart sped up. “So you’re saying...?”

  “It doesn’t necessarily mean that you’ll fall in love,” Jenna said hurriedly. “It depends on what you asked, really. Mainly, it means you need to trust your intuition during all of this change. Don’t just listen to your intellect. It means you’ve got difficult decisions ahead and you’ll have a struggle choosing between two different paths.”

  Sandro felt a little sick. He’d agreed to this reading to humor her and to have more time with her. He’d had no idea it would all feel so real. That last card was the worst. He’d already chosen his path. He’d chosen Benson, talked Jack into a business partnership, and started fixing up his aunt and uncle’s old restaurant. He’d made his choice. The last thing he wanted was more choices down the road, but these cards were all forecasting exactly that.

  Why was he even taking this seriously? They were just cards. It was just a party game.

  Jenna was still staring at the cards, her brow furrowed in either concentration or concern. He didn’t want her concern. “Well, you said it was a guide, right? So I guess I’m just supposed to be ready to make some decisions. It all sounds pretty normal to me.”

  “Sure,” she said quietly, and when she looked up, he saw all kinds of questions in her eyes. Questions he had no interest in hearing or answering.

  Thankfully, a couple was waiting out in the hall. Sandro stood up and motioned toward them with his hand. “These folks have been waiting awhile. Let’s give them a turn. You can peer at me through your crystal ball anytime.”

  She laughed at that and he was glad he could tease away whatever had been bothering her. “I’ll catch up with you when you’re done here.”

  She nodded and he left the room, wondering if he could risk another beer. Just the thought sent a pang of anxiety through his gut. He’d wondered after New York if he needed to go to rehab or AA meetings or something. But it hadn’t been too hard to quit drinking and drugs. He was just glad to be rid of them. And in Benson he’d never craved them or needed them. So he’d opted to skip rehab and just focus on building a new life. But here at his first big-city party since then, he was already thinking of drowning his discomfort in alcohol.

  The living room was packed and the buzz of conversation was deafening. Sandro made a point of walking right by the bar as he went back out to the terrace. He leaned on the railing, taking in the lights and the skyline, unease trickling through him. He didn’t belong here. Yet he couldn’t stay away from Jenna. He’d said yes to everything she’d asked—Paul
’s dance lessons, the competition, this party, the tarot reading—and yet he knew deep down that it was all a bad idea.

  When this cooking gig came to an end in a few weeks, one or both of them were going to get hurt. Maybe that was the meaning of that Lovers card. They were on separate roads. Their paths were crossing right now because he was working in San Francisco, but in a few weeks, when his classes here were done, they’d go their own ways.

  He glanced over and saw Tess, Jenna’s propositioning friend, across the dance floor, listening intently to what some tall, clean-cut guy had to say. A year ago he would have taken her up on her offer and not thought twice about it, even if it had hurt Jenna’s feelings. Now he hated that guy from a year ago. He’d kick his ass if he met him. He’d had a tiny glimpse of him tonight when that part of him, the part that could rarely say no back in New York, had flickered to life for just an instant when Tess had whispered her proposition. Self-loathing burned like acid in his gut.

  “Dude.” Sandro turned toward the voice at his side. A tall, thin young man moved in front of him, blocking his view of the dance floor. He had a goatee and dyed black hair and a long coat, as if he’d just come out of the Australian outback or something. “Wanna smoke some pot?”

  Without any discernible thought, Sandro hit him. Not too hard, just enough to see the surprise in the guy’s eyes as Sandro’s fist connected with his jaw, and the dismay that followed as he toppled backward almost in slow motion and sat down heavily.

  Anger fired through Sandro’s veins and heated his lungs until if felt as if he couldn’t breathe. Not anger at this poor pothead but at himself for the hurt he’d caused. For the way he’d already blown apart his own career once because he couldn’t keep his hands off drugs or women. For the fact that here at this party, he was being given way too many opportunities to blow it all again.

  Faces passed by him in a blur as he stormed through the penthouse, his eyes fixed on the door, the way out of this place of temptations. This party was proof of why he needed to get all thoughts of Jenna out of his head, regardless of how much that pissed him off.