Heartbreak Ranch (11 page)

He tried the horse barn first. Julianne's favorite mount was accounted for. He stood still for a moment, thinking. The baby foals and calves were all pastured with their mothers, or he wouldn't have had to think twice about where to find her. She'd always loved to spend time with the young animals.

The memory sparked another, from earlier this evening. He'd looked up and seen her holding J.T., and the sight had impacted him like a brick to the chest. Her hair had curtained her face as she'd looked down at the infant, but there had been no missing the tenderness with which she'd held him, touched him. He'd been struck by how natural she'd looked, how gut-wrenchingly intimate it had seemed to watch her with the baby. He knew better than most that maternal instincts weren't guaranteed in all females. His
mother and adoptive mother had been prime examples of that.

He exited the building and went to the truck parked nearby. The edginess that had ridden him all evening had grown teeth. There was no telling how long his search would take him, and damned if he was willing to tromp all over the ranch looking for the woman.

The truck roared to life and he headed toward the cattle barn. Noticing lights winking in the distance, he let up on the accelerator. There was still someone up in the bunkhouse, and he paused, considering. Years ago he'd had a cluster of small homes built nearby for some of the hands with families, and the more senior men, like Gabe. Most of the other hands still resided in the bunkhouse, though.

Giving a mental shrug, he turned the wheel and headed toward the bunkhouse. Maybe someone there had seen her. If not, he'd go back to the house and see if she had turned up there yet. A tinge of concern traced through him. Wandering around a ranch in the wilds of Montana wasn't a bright move at any time. In the middle of the night it could be downright dangerous. He just hoped he wasn't going to have to rouse the men to form a search party before the night was over.

He pulled up to the bunkhouse and walked rapidly to the door. Giving a cursory knock he pushed it open. He heard Julianne before he saw her, and relief quickly gave way to the irritation she caused so effortlessly.

“Watch and learn, gentlemen. The game's five card draw, nothing wild but your fantasies.”

Jed pushed the door closed and leaned against it. Julianne was seated at the round dining table surrounded by—he counted automatically—eight men. Even as he watched, she finished dealing the cards and set the deck in front of her. She picked up her hand in one smooth
motion and fanned the cards out. Even from this distance, he could read them and tell that she didn't have a jack.

“Dealer starts the bidding at twenty.”

“Dammit, Julianne, either you have the devil's own luck or you're bluffing again.” Zeke, a hand who'd worked for them since Julianne was a teen, spoke. He flicked a glance at Jed. “If you came to get in on the game, Jed, you can take my place.” He threw his cards down in disgust. “Lady Luck has been ignoring me all night.”

“Now, if you were Lady Luck, who would you rather smile down on, a grizzled old coot or the prettiest woman in the county?” asked Blair Ramsey, aiming his famed lady-killer smile in Julianne's direction. “I'm in for twenty, darlin', and I'll be taking two cards.”

Jed's eyes narrowed and he sauntered to the table. Ramsey had been with them for two years and had quickly established a reputation for having a soft touch with horses and smooth moves with women. Jed had never held the latter against him. He didn't care what a man did in his free time if it didn't affect his work or reflect poorly on the ranch. But he was suddenly reconsidering his open-mindedness.

Drawing even with the table, he could see the bottle of tequila sitting in front of Julianne, right next to a wad of cash. She had a wicked-looking cigar clenched between her teeth. Shooting him a sideways look, she grinned, reaching up to take the stogie out of her mouth. “Deal you in, cowboy?”

He leaned on the back of Gabe's chair and shook his head. “No, I think I'll just stand here and take bets on how long it will take you to puke tonight.” The men chuckled.

Julianne raised a brow. Around the cigar she'd replaced
in her mouth, she said, “It'll be the first time you've ever taken the long odds.” Laughter broke out again.

She turned her attention back to the game and finished dealing the cards, taking no hits for herself. “No guts, no glory, guys. I'm betting fifty. Put up or shut up.”

“I've lost my limit, Julianne.” Tyler, the youngest hand there, folded his cards and pushed back his chair. “But I sure did appreciate the chance to make your acquaintance.”

Jed watched as she took the cigar from her mouth and beamed at the boy, reducing the kid to a quaking mass of hormones. “I enjoyed meeting you, Tyler. And I'll be taking you up on that offer to teach me the latest line dances, too.”

Tyler clenched the brim of his hat in both hands as a look of stunned pride crossed his face. “I surely do look forward to that, ma'am.” He backed away from the table slowly, turning only after he tripped over a chair. Then he met Jed's gaze, flushed and hurried from the room.

“We used to have us friendly games,” one of the men mumbled, tossing his cards in.

Another jeered, “Yeah, right. This is the first one in a month that didn't end in a fistfight.”

“The night's young,” Julianne observed blandly, and the men broke up again.

Jed sat back to watch her in action. Ramsey was the only one who held out until the end. The bidding and counterbidding finally depleted the store of cash before him.

“C'mon, Gabe, loan me a hundred until payday,” he wheedled. “I've got me a sure thing here.”

The older man shook his head. “Can't do that, Blair. I make it a point never to bet against Julianne unless I have a clear view of her cards.”

Ramsey appealed to all the other men at the table and, when each refused, threw his cards down faceup. “A full house! I had to waste my best hand all night.” He cocked a wry grin at Julianne, who was busily scooping up her winnings. “Let's see what you had, sweetheart.”

She aimed an easy smile back at him. “You didn't pay to see my cards, Blair.”

His grin disappeared and his voice turned hard. “Hell, sweet thing, you cleaned me out. The least you owe me is a look at the hand I lost to.” He reached out for the cards she'd laid facedown on the table beside her.

Jed's hand snaked to the man's wrist, holding it immobile. “You heard the lady. Game's over, Ramsey.” He exchanged a hard stare with the hired man, and the room went silent.

Blair tugged at his wrist. It wasn't until he muttered, “Sure thing, boss,” that it was freed. His gaze cut back to Julianne. “Another time, sweet thing. You can show me…whatever you want.”

Chairs scraped as the men pushed back from the table. Some headed for their homes, and the others ambled to their beds. Julianne folded her stack of cash and stood up, tucking it in the pocket of her jeans. Her gaze clashed with Jed's.

“Have I told you recently how tedious your knight-in-shining-armor routine is?” she inquired.

“Have I told you recently what a pain in the ass you are?” he returned caustically. “Next time you feel like a night out with the boys, leave a note or something. Annie woke up and missed you. She was worried.”

Her eyes flickered. Gabe rose laboriously and put her jacket over her shoulders. “You'd better go on in with Jed, Julie girl. But I had a real fine time tonight. Just like the old days.”

She gave the older man a quick hug. “I'll come back after payday,” she teased, and he chuckled.

“You do that.”

Jed reached over and ground the cigar out in the ashtray. He caught Julianne's gaze on him and asked, “You didn't want to save this for later, did you?” She stalked toward the door.

Gabe clapped him on the shoulder. “Now, son, don't be too hard on the girl. She let them fellas win most of the night.”

“Trying to soften them up?” He watched, unwillingly captivated by the gentle sway of rounded hips encased in soft, worn denim.

“You ask her why she threw away three ladies earlier and let Tommy Milford have the pot,” the man advised. Shuffling away, he shook his head at the memory. “Never seen the likes of that girl. Nope, I never have.”

Neither, Jed thought sourly as he walked toward the truck where Julianne was waiting, had he.

He climbed into the truck silently and started it, driving the short distance to the house.

“You know, I'm not sixteen anymore.” Julianne's voice came in the darkness, smooth and coolly amused. “You're going to have to get used to that fact.”

“And you're going to have to get used to the fact that you've got folks who worry about you,” he countered. And then, because the question wouldn't quit nagging at him, he said, “Why'd you throw away a perfectly good hand tonight for Tommy Milford?”

“Maybe I was just priming him for the next time.”

“The truth, Jules.” He parked the truck several yards from the house and turned it off but made no move to open the door.

After a long moment she answered. “I met his son a couple of days ago. Do you know Ricky?”

“Bright red hair, freckles and the orneriest little s—cuss on the ranch,” he amended. “Yeah, I know him. So what?”

“Well, he said it's his birthday next week, and the thing he wants more than anything else in the world is the black bike in the window of Wilson's hardware store.” He could hear the satisfaction in her voice when she added, “That was a sizable pot I lost. Tommy ought to be able to afford that bike for Ricky for sure.” She laughed softly. “Now the kid will really be hell on wheels.”

Her words struck him hard in the chest, and he stared at her in the darkness. She looked smug and sleepy-eyed, and so damn pleased with herself. There had always been that softness in Julianne, that genuine goodness that was so at odds with her smart mouth and careless manner. It never failed to sneak up on him unaware, uncurling something inside him that he didn't even recognize. Didn't want to identify.

His hand shot out without his conscious permission and caught her hair, dragged her laughing mouth to his. He swallowed her gasp and claimed her lips for his own.

Dark flavors swirled, banked, unleashed by a rising fury of emotion. She slid closer and fisted her fingers tightly in his hair to bring him nearer. He complied willingly, turning her and pulling her onto his lap in one smooth movement. He felt her start of surprise but never released her mouth. He couldn't. The energy crackling between them was that strong. That hot.

He let the sharp-edged wave of desire wash over him, swallow him whole. Her tongue touched his, a long velvet glide and need burst quickly, fanned by her answering hunger. He'd thought he'd imagined it. The dim thought
shifted across his mind. Surely no woman could taste that sweet, feel that devastating. Logic couldn't fade that quickly, control disappear that fast. But he was being proved wrong all over again.

He changed the angle of the kiss, wanting more of her, demanding it. She caught his bottom lip between her teeth and scored it lightly, then soothed it with her tongue. Tearing his mouth from hers, he pressed his lips to her throat in a desperate quest for her scent. He satisfied his need for the taste of her flesh at the same time his hand found her breast.

Her gasp was a faint sound in the air, and her fingers curled tightly into his shoulders. He could feel her nails biting lightly through his shirt and wanted more. Her nipple stabbed at his palm through the layers of her clothing, and he wanted to close his mouth over it, tease it with his teeth and tongue. He wanted to lay her down on the seat and unwrap her clothes until she was gleaming naked in the moonlight. And then he wanted to taste all her sweet hidden secrets and make them his.

His mouth returned to twist across hers, desperation pummeling from the inside with wicked, jagged fists. He squeezed her breast lightly, felt the firm flesh shape to his touch and wanted to howl. He'd wondered how she could topple his control so easily, dominate his senses so completely. He was no closer to the answer but damn close to giving in to every sensation she caused in him.

He kissed her once more, hard, then pulled away. It was maddening to recognize the whipping of his pulse, the sawing of his breath. And because frustration wasn't his favorite sport, his voice when he spoke was little more than a snarl.

“For someone who doesn't need complications in her life, baby, you're working on a whale of one.”

There was just enough moonlight slanting into the truck to see her eyes flutter open, dazed and drugged. Then comprehension followed, and she sat up suddenly. Her swift movement brought her into jarring contact with his masculinity, and he winced.

“Me? I'm not the one doing a caveman imitation of Fred Flintstone.” She scrambled off his lap, sending her elbow into his ribs in what was surely no accident. Safely ensconced once again on the other side of the truck, she pushed her hair back with one hand and glared at him.

“And I thought you were the one who said you had no intentions of following up on this…this…thing between us.”

He leaned forward and went in search of a cigarette, finding half a pack in the ashtray. He lit it with the lighter on the dash and drew in a desperately needed puff. “That was what I said, and I meant it. Then.” He narrowed his eyes at her through the stream of smoke drifting between them. “But I'm changing my mind. Fast.”

“You ass. Like I don't have a say in this?” The words came fast and furious, and curiously, lightened his mood.

“I might have a little more taste than to get involved with an insufferable baboon.”

“I'm giving you a say. I'm also giving you a hell of a lot of responsibility. I'm about through fighting this attraction between us. If you don't want the two of us to end up in bed, you'd better stay a good distance away from me.”