Barefoot Blue Jean Night

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Barefoot Blue Jean Night Page 7

by Debbi Rawlins

“I think Mr. Gunderson could use a ride home,” Cole said quietly. “If you boys don’t mind.”

  From the dread expression on their faces they minded plenty. The man had no fans clear to the Canadian border, but Josh shrugged, shook his head. “Nah, no problem, boss.”

  “I ain’t ready to leave yet.” Gunderson’s words were even more slurred than they had been minutes ago. “Got my own damn truck, anyway.”

  “You either accept a ride from the boys here, or you can wait while I call the sheriff,” Cole said, unable to resist a small smile, his threat clear. “I’m pretty sure Noah wouldn’t mind giving you a lift to town where you can sleep it off.”

  Gunderson swayed back and forth, his fists clenching. “You’re nothing but a goddamn smart-ass, McAllister. Cut from the same cloth as your hardheaded old man.”

  “Come on, Mr. Gunderson. Lucas can follow us in your truck.” Josh approached the older man, easily ducking when Gunderson took a sloppy swing at him.

  The effort nearly sent Gunderson sprawling face-forward in the dirt, but Josh, a tall, husky ex-high-school linebacker, smoothly caught the man around the waist and hoisted him over his shoulder.

  Gunderson let out a string of profanities but settled down after a quiet warning from Josh—who was a good kid, but he’d never been known to back down from a fight.

  Cole picked up the whiskey bottle that had landed perilously close to Jamie’s feet, a fact that made him want to throw a punch himself. “Make sure he gets in the house, then hide his truck keys. He can call and find out where they are tomorrow.”

  “You got it, boss.” Josh effortlessly carried the limp drunk toward his truck.

  Cole was pretty sure Gunderson had passed out and hoped so for the boys’ sake, or he was likely to give them a hard time for the twenty-minute ride to his place. Reluctant to face Jamie, Cole silently watched until both trucks pulled onto the driveway.

  The humiliation of Gunderson’s accusation still burning in his belly, he heaved a defeated sigh. “Sorry you had to witness that.”

  “I’m sorry you have such an ass for a neighbor.” She paused. “Are you mad at me?”

  He turned to look at her. “Of course not.”

  “You’d have every right. I shouldn’t have butted in, but I didn’t want him ruining our evening.”

  He looked away. She wanted him to tell her everything was all right, they could act as if nothing had happened. He wished it were that easy. What Gunderson had said…what Jamie had seen and heard… Hell, Cole might as well have been stripped naked and paraded down Main Street. “I’ll walk you back.”

  “Why? It’s early.”

  “Jamie, I’m sorry.”

  She laid a hand on his arm. “He was drunk,” she said, then quickly added, “Though I’m in no way defending him. What I’m doing a bad job of saying is that I haven’t given what he said a second thought…if that’s the problem.”

  Cole breathed in deeply and stared at the sky. Funny how only fifteen minutes ago there seemed to have been a whole different moon up there. And the stars…not so bright anymore. “I’ve gotta get up early tomorrow. If you wanna keep walking, stick to the area near the corral fence, around the barn and the house. You’ll be safe. You might hear coyotes but they won’t come down this close.”

  “Coyotes?” She withdrew her hand. “Maybe one of the men in the bunkhouse wouldn’t mind escorting me around the property,” she said sweetly.

  His instant aversion to the idea of one those young bucks strolling with Jamie in the moonlight shocked him. Everything from the way his gut clenched to the tightness of his chest worsened his mood. “I suspect any number of them would be happy to oblige.”

  She let out an unladylike snort. “I don’t want anyone else. I want you.”

  He scrubbed a hand over his face. If he couldn’t admit to himself that he was pleased by her words he’d be a liar. Didn’t change anything though. What Gunderson had said cut too deep. McAllisters were ranchers, not hotelmen or anything else. But to accuse him of whoring himself out. Shit.

  “You’re really going to ditch me, aren’t you?”

  Cole said nothing.

  “This isn’t fair.”

  “Nope,” he said quietly. “I don’t expect it is.”

  “You don’t even know what I’m talking about.”

  He almost smiled, despite the fact he suddenly felt so damn drained, as if he hadn’t slept for a week. Come to think of it, when was his last decent night’s sleep? “Take your pick. Every part of tonight qualifies.”

  “Fine. Go hide in the house. Let the bastard win.” She gasped softly. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

  Cole squinted in the direction of the driveway. Both trucks were long gone. But the sour echo of Gunderson’s words lingered heavily in the air, dimming the magical glow of the moon. He didn’t particularly want to disappoint her. In another life, she’d be someone he’d want to know well, but it was neither the time nor the place. “Good night, Jamie. Use the liniment. You’ll feel better tomorrow.”

  She’d waited until he’d made it a few yards, and asked, “Will I see you?”

  He knew what she meant, but the answer she got was, “You’re here for another six days. I reckon you will.”

  * * *

  “HOLD IT.” RACHEL SHUFFLED into the kitchen just as Cole was headed for the back door, a to-go mug of steaming black coffee in hand.

  Dammit. He’d figured he’d be halfway to Pine Meadow before anyone stirred. “What are you doing up this early?”

  She covered a yawn, then cinched the belt of her robe. “Trying to catch you before you sneak out.”

  “Sneak out? You’ve been living in the city too long,” he said irritably. “Work starts at sunup.”

  She grunted, yawning again as she opened the upper oak cupboard and got a mug. “Sit with me for a minute.”

  He considered making up an excuse because he was pretty sure he knew this was about Jamie and last night, but no sense delaying the inevitable. While she dumped sugar and cream into her coffee, he pulled out a chair at the kitchen table, sat down and glanced at the round wall clock. He’d give her five minutes.

  With his booted foot, he pushed out the chair across from him, and Rachel sat down. “I’ll get right to it. Jamie wants to hang out with you.”

  Cole sipped. They needn’t have bothered sitting down. “No.”

  “No?” She narrowed her gaze. “Just like that. No?”

  “What did I tell you from the beginning?”

  “Oh, God, you’re as bullheaded as Pop was.” She took a long sip of coffee and sighed. “I thought you got on okay with her, that maybe you even liked her a little.”

  “I like her fine.”

  “So what’s the big deal?” She glanced at the door, then lowered her voice. “She isn’t like some of those other women. She doesn’t giggle and she knows which end of a horse to feed. I think she’s genuinely interested in the workings of a ranch. And I’m not kidding about how much great advertising we’d get if she has a good time.”

  Puzzled, he stared at his sister. It wasn’t like her not to bring up the incident with Gunderson right off the top. “When did Jamie ask you about this?”

  “Last night.” She shrugged. “Right before bedtime. She’d been out for a walk.”

  “I know.” He smiled to himself. So she hadn’t said anything to Rachel about what had happened. “She was with me.”

  Rachel’s eyes widened. “Tell me.”

  “Tell you what?”

  “Everything.”

  Cole laughed and shook his head. Right now she looked just like she had when she was twelve. “Jamie was stiff from riding and I told her she’d be better off walking and stretching those sore muscles…. What?”

  Rachel was smiling so hard he thought her face might break.

  “I gotta get moving.” He pushed back from the table, thought twice about taking the time to refill his coffee. But then, what the hell—he needed the caffeine a
nd he had nothing to hide. She could grin as much as she damn wanted.

  He poured more of the strong dark brew that he’d made to his liking. “By the way, I take it she didn’t say anything about Gunderson.”

  Rachel lost her smile. “Wallace Gunderson?” Her brows dipped. “Why would she? How would she know him?”

  “He was here last night.”

  “Oh, my God. I hope none of the guests… Was he drunk?”

  “He’d been tipping the bottle all right.”

  “What happened?” Rachel asked, the dread in her voice as thick as Hilda’s country gravy.

  Cole slid a gaze to the window. It was already light, but he figured he might as well say something before the hands started talking. “Same as always. He still wants that creek land. Guess he was hoping we were finally desperate enough to take his cash.”

  “So he’s pissed about us opening the dude ranch….” She rubbed her right temple. “All of it in front of Jamie. Dammit. Do I want to know the specifics?”

  “No point in it.” Thinking about Gunderson and last night’s scene made his blood boil all over again. “Jamie got in her two cents, though—handed him a good dressing-down for interrupting our walk.”

  Rachel gave him a measuring look long enough to make him itch to leave. “I hate that she had to hear a single word out of that vile man’s mouth, but I hate it even more that it happened in front of you.”

  He shrugged. “At least I didn’t punch the old bastard. I sure as hell wanted to.”

  She nodded absently. “Jamie didn’t say a word. Pretty classy. Still, I’ll apologize to her.”

  “I’d leave it be.” He wished he could. Replaying the incident had kept him up a good two hours longer than he’d liked. “Gunderson will be calling later to find out where Josh and Lucas hid his keys. They drove him home.”

  Rachel winced. “That drunk, huh? Wait, don’t go yet.”

  He reluctantly stopped at the door. “Nothing left to talk about.”

  “The Jamie issue?”

  “I gave you my answer.”

  “Look, now that I know about last night, I understand why you’re embarrassed but—”

  “That’s got nothing to do with why I’m not letting her follow me around. I’m too busy getting ready for the Missoula auction and fall roundup. You know that.”

  “Sure.” She sniffed. “No one can ever accuse me of not doing my part to keep this ranch afloat.”

  “That’s a fact,” he said, ignoring her taunt and then made it out the kitchen door before her glare burned a hole in his back.

  * * *

  WALKING INTO ABE’S VARIETY STORE gave Cole little reprieve from the heat. Though when he saw the door propped open he knew beforehand that the fans would be going instead of the air-conditioning. No one complained about Abe wanting to save a few bucks. His customers were glad he’d managed to stay open this long and continue to offer his dusty merchandise.

  “I had two of ’em stop at the diner. Real nice gals, except they tried to order some strange sandwich I never heard of. Something with alfalfa sprouts. I told ’em we feed those things to the horses.” Marge laughed along with Louise, who owned the fabric shop next door.

  Abe shook his head, a smile on his ruddy face as he rang up Marge’s purchase. “I hope they all start coming to town more. I sold a few tubes of lip balm and they wiped me out of my sunblock, but I’m thinking of ordering some souvenir items from Glacier Falls.”

  “One of them came into my place and asked if I sold ready-made Western shirts,” Louise said, her normally rusty voice sounding excited. “Told her I could sew one up before she left, but she seemed disappointed. Said she’d let me know later. I figured I’d talk to Barbara, see how many more guests they’re expecting this year before I bring in some ready-mades.”

  Abe passed Marge her package and spotted Cole. “There’s the man to ask.”

  The two older women turned and gave him friendly smiles. He’d known Marge since he was old enough to walk. Her hair had always been big, only now it was gray, and he was fairly certain she even slept with her lips painted that bright red.

  “What about it, handsome?” Marge asked. “You all booked up through fall out there at the Sundance?”

  “You’ll have to talk to Rachel. I’m staying out of that side of things.” He would’ve avoided Blackfoot Falls if he could, at least for another couple of weeks until the excitement and gossip died down, but he’d agreed to attend the last-minute town meeting that had been called to discuss some issues on water rights.

  “You heard about Mrs. Clements’s missing four-wheeler?” Abe asked.

  “’Course I did.” Cole scooped a pound bag of rope licorice from a basket sitting at the end of the counter. “Anybody in the county not hear about it?”

  Abe chuckled. “Good point.”

  “That damn-fool woman.” Louise clucked her tongue. “Both her and Avery. Trying to make folks believe your guests had something to do with it. Like they don’t have everything provided for them at the Sundance.”

  Marge glanced over her shoulder. “Keep your voice down. We don’t want those girls showing up and overhearing. To my way of thinking, we’re lucky to have their business.”

  “Amen.” Louise nodded solemnly. “Just last month Sylvie and me were considering it might be smart to close up shop for a while. Now with tourists coming to town, maybe we can actually come out a few pennies ahead.”

  “Don’t let Avery hear that kind of talk.” Abe’s mouth twitched with amusement. He’d never minded stirring up a little trouble now and again. “He’s been on the warpath over this dude ranch business. No offense to you and yours,” he said, glancing at Cole.

  “The hell with that old coot,” Marge said. “Fine for him to be shooting his mouth off. Both him and Mrs. Clements have enough money squirreled under their mattresses to carry them through a hundred-year drought.”

  “Bite your tongue, woman.” Abe frowned. Drought was a curse word around Salinas County.

  Anxious to be on his way and avoid talk of the Sundance, Cole laid the licorice on the counter, added a package of breath mints, then dug in his jeans pocket for some cash.

  While Abe rang up his purchase on a register that was older than Cole, Marge picked up the mints and studied the package as if she didn’t know what they were. Then she grinned at him. “Guess one of them gals picked you out of the lineup. Can’t say I’m surprised.”

  Leave it to Marge to try and make a connection between breath mints and a woman. Hell, it wasn’t as if he’d never bought them before. Even when Bella wasn’t in town.

  Louise muffled a coarse chuckle. “That sister of yours is a very smart girl. Maybe I should ask her to do me up one of those fancy websites.”

  “Except you don’t have any young handsome brothers to use as bait.” Marge handed him the mints and winked.

  He wondered what the hell they were talking about, but he knew better than to ask. “Abe, ladies…” He nodded. “I’ll see you all later.”

  “I hope so.” Marge raised her voice so that it followed him to the door. “Don’t you McAllister boys go hogging those women. We could use their business.”

  The words had barely left Marge’s mouth when Cole came face to face with Jamie. She’d come from out of nowhere, through the open door as he tried to escape. His arms automatically went up, and he caught her by her shoulders to avoid a collision.

  “Cole.” She pressed her palms lightly to his chest and reared her head, her eyes wide. “What are you doing here?”

  Behind her was another Sundance guest, a blonde he recognized but not by name. She smiled at him, gave Jamie a startled look, then swung her curious gaze back to Cole.

  He released Jamie’s shoulders and stepped back. “I’m in town for a meeting.”

  “Ah.” She slid her hands down to his belly, her fingers grazing his belt buckle before breaking contact. He did everything in his power to keep from reacting like a horny fifteen-year-old boy.
“I thought you rode out early to avoid me,” she said, her pretty pink lips tilting up at the corners.

  “I did.” He moved to the side so they could enter the store. “Ride out early.” Hell, he could practically feel Marge’s nosy breath on the back of his neck. “How’s the stiffness?”

  “Better. You were right about me staying in motion. The walk last night helped.”

  “I’m Brenda, by the way.” The blonde stuck out her hand. “I know you’re Cole. I saw you a couple times at the Sundance, but we’ve never met.”

  “Ma’am.” He touched the brim of his hat, but she was intent on shaking hands, so he obliged her, then abruptly pulled back when he saw the frank challenge sparkling in her blue eyes. These city women were really something. At least they didn’t keep a man guessing. “Got to get going. Can’t be late for the meeting.”

  “Can we talk later?” Jamie asked in a rush when she clearly realized that he meant business about leaving. “When you get back to the ranch.”

  To answer truthfully would get him in more trouble than he wanted, what with Louise and Marge’s ears perked up like wolfhounds. “Sure. Don’t know what time that’ll be, though.”

  “Anytime is fine. I’m not doing much today.”

  “See you when I get back, then.” This time he hurried off with purpose, cringing when he overheard Brenda call him cute, followed by Marge’s cackling laugh.

  7

  ON HER WAY TO THE DEN to join the other guests, Jamie glanced out the window and saw the dust, about half a mile down the driveway. Seconds later a black pickup emerged, headed toward the house, and she knew it was Cole. Finally.

  She’d returned from town at about two-thirty and until giving up an hour ago, she’d been keeping an eye out for him. Had he made it in time for margaritas and beer on the porch, she would’ve been shocked. He didn’t like mingling with the guests, and though Rachel had said nothing, Jamie guessed he’d shot down the idea of her tagging along with him for the rest of the week.

  After dinner, Rachel had tried to talk her into signing up for a white-water rafting trip tomorrow. Trace and Liam, a cute young wrangler with sandy-blond hair and a shy smile, were organizing the outing and the women had been all abuzz about the seven-hour excursion. The rest of the group were going hiking in Glacier National Park. They’d be escorted by an off-duty park ranger, a friend of the McAllister family, who’d visited the Sundance the day before Jamie had arrived.

 

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