Heartbreak Ranch (5 page)

“Where are you going?”

“The state Cattlemen's Association is having their annual bash in Helena tomorrow night. Dinner and a band afterward, I guess.” His voice trailing off to a mutter he added, “Never did figure why they needed some fancy shindig to talk about business.”

She said nothing, just looked at him quizzically.

Uncomfortably, he shifted his weight against the desk. “I'm the president this year.” She didn't have to look so damn amazed, he thought, affronted. He'd been involved in one form or another with raising cattle since he was
twelve. He figured he knew as much about it as most ranchers, more than some.

Her lips curved, and dread spiraled in anticipation of her reaction. It wasn't long coming.

“Well, la-di-da. Jed Sullivan has gone and gotten civilized somewhere along the way. Who'd have thought it?”

He glared at her. “I know cattle.”

She nodded, her amusement still visible. “I realize that. I also know that being elected state president means a lot of other folks around here realize it, too. Congratulations, Jed. I never would have guessed that you'd grow to be this…”

His voice was a dare. “This what?”

Tilting her head, she contemplated the ceiling, clearly enjoying herself. “I guess…
staid
…is the word I'm looking for.”

“Staid?”

Her eyes sparkled with mirth. “I mean that in a positive way, of course.”

“Yeah, right.” The muscle in his jaw tightened as he ground his teeth. “I realize you don't have a great deal of experience with responsibility, but it's a trait most of us try to cultivate as we get older.”

“Well, there you go.” She nodded sagely. “Since you're five years my senior, you've got a head start on being responsible. I'm sure that when I get to be your age I'll be just as decorous.”

He snorted. “And pigs will grow wings.”

Her blinding smile went straight to his gut like a well-honed arrow. It took a moment for his brain to remind his lungs to breathe again. He'd watched Julianne perfect that smile on every male this side of ninety from the time she was seven. Obviously, he wasn't as immune as he'd thought. The realization would have been troubling if he
hadn't decided in the next moment that he much preferred to see that smile on her face than the despair she'd worn earlier. Even if her amusement
was
at his expense.

He folded his arms and crossed his booted feet at the ankle. “Actually, it's exactly the kind of affair you've always liked. It'll be a big crowd. Four or five hundred people.”

If he hadn't been watching her so closely, he might have missed her sudden pallor at his words. “I used to like that kind of affair. Right now I'm more interested in isolating myself at the ranch for a while.”

He went still at the word. “Isolating?”

She gave a careless wave of her hand. “You know what I mean. Resting up. Getting my life in order again.”

He studied her long enough to have her fidgeting in her seat. Her words sounded nothing like the Julianne he knew. She'd always had a boundless store of confidence, of energy for life. He wondered just how deeply the rumors from the scandal had wounded her.

“Maybe,” he said slowly, testing her, “you'd be interested to see firsthand just how…staid…I've become.”

She settled back in the armchair. “Are you selling tickets?”

“Something like that. I can bring a guest to this thing tomorrow night. Why don't I take you along?”

“Me?” His offer dimmed her smile considerably.

“Why not? It will give you a chance to get out and socialize, as well as a perfect opportunity to do what you've always done best.”

“And what might that be?”

“Show off. You must have something in that heap of luggage that would be suitable to wear.”

“Don't be offensive. I can assure you, should I put my mind to it, I could find something that would give those
ranchers plenty to discuss with their cattle for decades to come.”

He sprung the trap neatly. “It's settled then. You'll come along. I know this is still Montana, after all, not Florida high society. But you should find it entertaining enough. You've always liked a party.”

A flicker of something suspiciously close to panic showed in her eyes, and she shook her head. “As much as I enjoy getting dressed up and showing off, I'm going to say no thanks. I just got here, and I'm not ready to leave the ranch just yet.”

All his protective instincts rose to the surface, and he was suddenly, illogically angry. Angry at a turn of events that had the power to sap Julianne of that bold self-assurance that was so much a part of her. Angry at her for letting it happen, and angry at himself for not being able to prevent it. He made sure none of the furious emotion sounded in his voice. “You wouldn't be gone long. I'll fly us to Helena after lunch tomorrow, and we'll return the next day.”

Her tone was lazy. “I don't think so. Maybe another time.”

His eyes narrowed consideringly. Damn, she was good. Her yawn and sleepy smile almost convinced him that all she wanted to do was spend the next month loafing and poking around the ranch. He stared at her, long enough to cause her to shift in her chair, before she rose, announcing her intentions of heading to bed.

The old Julianne would have accepted in a minute. He wasn't being totally sarcastic when he'd said this event would be just the sort of thing she used to like. There was nothing Julianne had enjoyed more than getting all dolled up and making an entrance at a party. And, if memory served correctly, being its focal point while she was there.

His gaze bored a hole in her retreating back.

She was nearing the door. Her hand reached for the knob. He let her open it, move through it, before saying coolly, “Well, this is one for the books. Julianne Buchanan…running scared.”

He could have predicted her reaction time to the second. One instant…two…before she backed through the door again to look at him challengingly.

“Pardon me?”

He let a sardonic grin curl his mouth. The haughty tone was familiar—princess to peasant. It had never failed to get a rise out of him when they were kids. But they weren't kids anymore.

“I said you're running scared.” He shrugged. “You've got a right, God knows. No one would blame you for not wanting to face a ballroom full of people, all the time wondering how much of the Florida scandal had reached here, what they know, what they think they do. If you want to hide out at the ranch awhile longer and lick your wounds in private, hell, you're entitled.”

The look she aimed at him should have singed off a layer of skin, but then she sauntered toward him, slow and nonchalant. He pushed away from the desk, his weight coming to rest on the balls of his feet. Deliberately baiting Julianne could be an unpredictable business, and it was best to be prepared.

She stopped in front of him, a dangerous little smile on her face. Brushing a piece of lint from the shoulder of his denim shirt, she patted his cheek, a little more forcefully than necessary. “Jed. Dear. If this is a pathetic attempt at reverse psychology, you'd better leave it to the pros. You need more practice. The day that I'm afraid to face people is the day they eat lemon Popsicles in hell.”

He caught her wrist in his hand and moved it away,
smiling mockingly. “Sure. Whatever you need to believe, Jules.”

Their gazes clashed for a long moment, her eyes expressing every emotion she was feeling…irritation, disdain, uncertainty. It was the last of those emotions that drew his chest tight, that made him sure he was right.

Then she was tugging her hand free, as cool as you please, and tucking it into her back pocket. She rolled one shoulder in magnificent indifference. “Since it seems so important to you, I'll come along. A night in Helena might be amusing, if only to see you forced to wear a suit.” She turned her back on him and strolled toward the door. Before she exited the room, she looked back and drawled, “Who knows, this might turn out to be fun, after all. If we put our minds to it, we just might give the Montana cattle ranchers something to remember for years to come.”

Her parting shot succeeding in splintering the satisfaction that had formed at her acceptance. With a sense of unease, he thought about the upcoming twenty-four hours and wondered just what he'd managed to get himself into.

O
rdinarily, there was nothing Julianne liked better than a party. Surrounding herself with music, food, dancing and plenty of people was, in an odd way, both relaxing and exhilarating. She was comfortable in a crowd of strangers because she enjoyed people. She liked talking to them, hearing about their lives, and in some instances, making up pasts about them for her own amusement. She wasn't above making up a past for herself just for the sheer entertainment of it. She doubted Jed would approve.

She pursed her lips slightly and outlined them with a lipstick pencil. Not that pleasing Jed was going to be high on her list of priorities tonight. It still rankled that she'd allowed him to buffalo her into attending this evening, but he'd had plenty of years to learn which buttons to push, and he knew she'd never let him call her a coward. Realizing how blatantly she'd been manipulated hadn't changed her response.

He'd been right, damn him, though she'd rather waltz
naked through Yankee Stadium than admit it aloud. Her first reaction when he'd invited her to come with him had been pure, unadulterated panic. The feeling had been totally out of character, not to mention irrational. The people who mattered most to her, like Annie and Gabe, were very forgiving when it came to her mistakes. Jed had never let her get away with much, of course. When it came to support, however, he could always be counted on, whether his help was asked for or not.

Her hand trembled, and she paused in the middle of applying her lipstick. And his help most definitely had not been asked for in Florida. Through the media circus and the endless interrogations, the only shred of pride she'd been left with had come from the knowledge that she was fighting her own battles. When she'd been cleared of suspicion, she'd congratulated herself for standing alone. Others might sneer at the amount of strength that had taken, but it had been a personal victory of sorts for her.

Now she had to share that victory with Jed. She'd never know how much his involvement had helped to clear her, and not knowing robbed the situation of most of the satisfaction she'd gained from it. She finished applying her lipstick and blotted her lips on a tissue. If he'd been down in the middle of that mess, an idea that still had the power to make her shudder, then she'd been lucky that the scene in his office hadn't gotten uglier. Jed didn't have much use for weaknesses; not in anyone. Like a true knight of old, he had very firm notions about right and wrong. She wondered if he'd ever seen the world in shades of gray and uncomfortably decided that he hadn't.

Despite her still-simmering annoyance over the way he'd finessed her agreement to accompany him, the trip to Helena had passed surprisingly quickly. Jed had flown them in his four-seater Cessna, and she'd been fascinated
watching him handle the small plane. She'd kept him busy the entire way, asking him questions about the dials and knobs before him, and by the end of the trip, a resolve had formed in her mind.

She was going to learn to fly. She could already imagine the thrill of being in control of the small aircraft, of making the decisions about altitude, speed and velocity. She smiled smugly and reached for her lipstick. It would serve Jed right if she decided to make him teach her.

The thought was cheering. She wondered if he'd ever recovered from the trauma of teaching her to drive. He'd been a stick-in-the-mud even then, she remembered, insisting she drive around in an old four-door sedan tank until he deemed her ready for something with a little more zip. If he'd had his way, she'd still be driving that old Ford, but Harley had taken the decision out of his hands. He'd called home, flush after a gambling venture, and had acceded to Julianne's demands for a little red sports car. Despite Jed's dire warnings, she'd never once managed to wrap it around a tree or roll it into a ditch. Although she'd collected more than her share of speeding tickets, he'd been a good instructor. She'd never had an accident.

She finished with her makeup and rose to get the dress she'd chosen for this evening. Untying her robe and letting it drop to the floor, she carefully stepped into the royal blue sequined dress. She twisted her arms nearly out of their sockets trying to raise the back zipper. Slipping into her shoes, she went back to the mirror, turning this way and that to check her appearance. The strapless dress might have been a little chancy, given the hotel's penchant for icy air-conditioning, but she was counting on the crush of the crowd to keep the temperature comfortable.

A knock sounded at the door. Throwing a glance at the clock on the dresser, she smiled. If nothing else, Jed was
always prompt. She opened the door and, for a moment, just stood there, staring.

“Well?” he growled, shifting uncomfortably under her silent scrutiny. “Are you going to let me in?”

She stood back silently and let him enter the room, afraid if she opened her mouth she'd trip over her tongue.

He looked…magnificent. She'd always thought denim suited him; a perfect package for rugged angles and hard muscle. She'd forgotten what an impact he made dressed up. The dark, discreetly pin-striped suit jacket seemed to stretch across acres of shoulders, and the light-colored dress shirt made his tan seem darker. She tried to remember the last time she'd seen him in a tie, and then decided it had been at her high school graduation. The one he'd attended, and then afterward held her while she cried out her disappointment over Harley missing it, despite his vows to be there.

She took a deep breath and resisted the urge to press a palm to her jittery stomach.

He was watching her intently, and being the focus of that fierce regard was doing nothing to calm her pulse. His words, when they came, were low and rough, and sent a fast skitter up her spine. “You look good, Buchanan.”

His simple words sent an absurd sense of pleasure shimmering over each and every one of her nerve endings. She forced the air back through her lungs. “I've always admired your way with words, ace.” Turning away, she picked up her purse and headed to the door, concentrating on walking steadily.

He followed her into the hallway, his long strides easily catching up to hers. She entered the elevator ahead of him, sidling to the corner to put some space between his large body and her own.

“You never told me what the program was for tonight. Will people come by to kiss your ring?”

“Very funny.”

The tinge of irritation in his voice made her smile come a little more naturally, and her lungs eased. Maybe she wasn't suffocating, after all. “Sorry. That's the pope, isn't it? Exactly what is proper protocol for addressing the head of the Cattlemen's Association?”

He ignored her banter and said, “The hospitality hour started a few minutes ago. We'll eat at six, there will be a short presentation, and the band begins playing at eight.”

The light indicating their floor winked at them, a discreet bell sounded, and the doors slid open. Jazzed by nerves, she sailed out of the car. “I suppose it would be considered poor taste to tell the waiter I prefer pork?”

He took her elbow in his grasp, his touch sending a sharp electric thrill up her arm, and steered her in the direction of the hospitality room. “Julianne,” he warned in an undertone, “behave yourself tonight.”

Shooting him a sideways glance, she inquired, “What fun would that be?”

 

As it happened, it was more fun than she'd anticipated. She'd deliberately slipped away from Jed's watchful eye soon after their arrival and wandered among the crowd doing what she loved best…mingling. The wine was a very decent chardonnay, but judiciously, she held herself to one glass. She hadn't had lunch, and she really wasn't much of a drinker, anyway. She'd spent too many years watching Andrew try to crawl into a bottle to find the solution to his unhappiness.

As she casually threaded her way through the crowd, she checked on Jed across the room and found him watching her. She raised her free hand to waggle her fingers at
him, but the gesture didn't ease the slight frown he was wearing. She watched as one of the group of men surrounding him snagged his attention, and she decided that he would be fine on his own for a while. Jed had never been a big one for socializing, at least not at anything more formal than a barbecue with neighbors, but as long as he had fellow ranchers to discuss cattle with, she figured he'd be content.

A white-jacketed waiter stopped in front of her with a tray loaded with rich appetizers, and he seemed inordinately pleased to help her make her selections. Now balancing both a plate and a glass, she looked around for a place to set them.

“Just my luck to find the loveliest lady here with her hands full,” a gravelly voice sounded in back of her. “I guess that means I don't get a hug.”

Whirling around, Julianne smiled delightedly. “Walter! Oh, it's wonderful to see you. It's been ages.” She went up on tiptoes to press a kiss to the man's leathery cheek.

Walter Larkin owned the ranch south of the H/B, and when she'd been in school she'd spent as much time at his ranch as at her own. She and his daughter, Shelby, had been inseparable while they were growing up, and partners in a great many more scrapes than they'd ever been caught at.

She eyed the man soberly. “I was sorry to hear about Laura.” Annie had kept her informed about Walter's wife's losing battle with cancer. She'd died the previous winter.

The older man patted her arm. “The flowers you sent were real nice. All Laura's favorites. And your letter was a comfort.”

She smiled up at him. “Do you know how many hours
she spent feeding Shelby and me? Or how often she'd help us experiment with our hair?”

His faded blue eyes twinkled. “Or how many times she kept one of your and Shelby's escapades quiet?”

Simple sincerity laced her voice. “She was the best.” Her eyes went misty at the flood of memories. “I called Shelby last month, but our visit was cut short by the demands of your new grandson.”

A broad smile settled on Walter's creased face. “J.T. He's got a pair of lungs like a howler monkey and a temper to match. You'll get a chance to see for yourself soon enough. Shelby's bringing him for a visit next week. When she finds out that you're home, she'll be over the moon.”

“I'll call her,” Julianne promised.

“Walter, shame on you for monopolizing our long-lost neighbor like this.”

Wincing a little at the instantly recognizable strident tones, Julianne turned around to greet another of the ranch neighbors, Eleanor Pooler. Shifting her plate and glass between them in one smooth movement, she prevented the hug the woman tried to press on her, and smiled brilliantly.

“Eleanor, how have you been? You're looking well.” The flounced dress the woman was wearing was a rather ghastly shade of yellow and did uninspired things to her sallow complexion, but she had made efforts with her hair, which was tightly curled and colored a determined shade of dark brown.

“Oh, my dear Julianne,” Eleanor cooed in a lowered voice. “You can't know how I've worried about you. We all have, haven't we, Walter?”

Walter lifted first an eyebrow and then his glass. “What are you talking about, Eleanor?”

Julianne stifled a grin. Walter's testy manner was barely
held in check. Like most of the neighbors, he genuinely liked the taciturn Jim Pooler, but only tolerated his wife.

The avid interest in Eleanor's raisinlike eyes contrasted with the oozing sympathy in her voice. “Well, my dear, we heard the most awful things about you. I, for one, just couldn't believe what people were saying.”

Balancing her plate on top of her wineglass, Julianne selected a crab-stuffed mushroom. “That's always wise, Eleanor. I've found that people will say quite a bit. The trick is in not repeating it.” She sampled the mushroom and swallowed approvingly. Whoever had been in charge of the appetizers deserved every cent the association paid them. She made a mental note to mention it to Jed.

“There, there, dear, no need to put up a brave front. Not with us.” Her voice lowered conspiratorially. “Is it true you had to spend the night in jail with common criminals? I actually heard you were put in a cell with a ring of prostitutes, but I wouldn't believe anything so outlandish.”

“Eleanor, for heaven's sake!” The outrage in Walter's voice was enough to keep the smile on Julianne's face at least partially sincere.

“What people will believe is really a measure of their gullibility, isn't it? Actually I was never arrested, so I didn't get to spend a night in jail. I can tell you that I was terribly disappointed to miss the adventure of a strip search.”

“Julianne, the head table is beginning to be seated. Hello, Walter, Eleanor.” Jed's voice interrupted them.

Walter returned his greeting with obvious relief, while Eleanor shifted her attention to him. “Jed, how nice to see you. I was just telling Julianne how worried we all were about her.”

“We appreciate her concern, don't we, Jed?” Julianne
offered her plate to him. “Try some of these mushrooms. They're to die for.”

“Oh, Jed,” Eleanor gushed. “Marianne is here. I just know she's going to want to see you. You've met her husband, haven't you? Randall Craig?” In an aside to Julianne she added, “Marianne and her husband have several hundred acres in the eastern part of the state. She was horribly worried when she told me those horrible stories circulating about you. She's just so deliriously happy with her husband, she can't bear for anyone else to be miserable.”

“If I remember correctly, Marianne was delirious most of the time.” The weight of a size-thirteen boot pressed firmly on her toe, and Julianne winced. “Delirious about her friends, I mean.”

“Are you staying for the dance?” Jed asked Eleanor. Barely waiting for the woman's nod, he continued, “Then we'll see you later. Right now Julianne and I need to find our places.” Nodding to Walter, he grasped Julianne's elbow and steered her away.