Barefoot Blue Jean Night. Debbi Rawlins

She wasn’t good at judging age to begin with, and the lines at the corners of his eyes, the groove in his cheek, all could be the result of working outdoors. Though whatever had conspired to create that face got two thumbs up from her. She liked what she saw, no doubt about that.

      She didn’t even mind that he wasn’t talkative. He reminded her of the heroes in the old Westerns that she’d watched with her father. That her dad had been a sucker for a John Wayne or Gary Cooper yarn was the most human thing about him. Her mother would roll her eyes on that rare free night when he’d fix his martini, pop one of his beloved Westerns in the VHS player, and Jamie would cuddle with him on the couch, watching until she couldn’t keep her eyes open.

      Yeah, she liked thinking about Cole as one of those Western heroes. Tall, dark, quiet. He was perfect, sitting there looking sexy with that Stetson brim pulled low. All he needed was a gun belt and a rifle to complete the picture.

      Nah, she wasn’t fond of guns. Or God help her, the violent explosion of gunfire.

      She closed her eyes, regretting that she’d invited the memory of that horrifying day so long ago, and lifted her face to the sun focusing on her breathing. While it had been too hot earlier, the warmth felt good now, especially with the slight breeze.

      “You’re a good rider.”

      She opened her eyes and looked at him. “Why the surprise?”

      His lips moved a little, probably as close to a smile as she was going to get. “Most of the guests have been beginners.”

      “That has to be frustrating.”

      “They’re my brother Trace’s problem.”

      Jamie grinned.

      “I didn’t mean that like it sounded,” he muttered, and squinted in the other direction.

      She changed her mind. She didn’t want him retreating into silence again. Distraction was better. “It’s okay. I kind of get that the dude ranch thing was Rachel’s idea.” She paused. “I understand that some people around here aren’t happy about the new business.”

      He turned his head sharply toward her. “Where did you hear that?”

      “The gas station.”

      “Billy?” he asked, frowning.

      “He was trying to explain Avery’s attitude.”

      “Avery Phelps.” Cole sighed and shook his head. “Nice welcome wagon.”

      “Billy was adorable. Avery not so much.”

      “What did the old man say to you?”

      She shrugged. “I’m used to people like him. I make my living traveling. Wherever there are tourists, there will be Averys who don’t want to share.”

      “It’s not about sharing. It’s about change. This is cattle country. Most folks around here want to keep it that way.”

      “What about you?”

      His jaw tightened. “Just trying to make a living and take care of my family.”

      “You aren’t married,” she said too quickly, her gaze going to his hand even though she already knew he wore no ring.

      “Nope.”

      “Ever been?”

      His brown eyes warmed with amusement. “Why?”

      She should’ve been embarrassed. She wasn’t normally that blatantly inquisitive about a man. “I’m nosy.”

      “That could get you in trouble.”

      “Oh, it already has. Many times, actually. I haven’t learned my lesson.”

      “I see that.”

      She liked that she’d almost made him smile. “So?”

      “What?”

      “Ever married? Or come close?”

      He hesitated. “No.”

      Interesting that he’d had to think about it.

      “What about you?”

      She blinked, unprepared for him to turn the question around. “Not me,” she said emphatically.

      “Too busy traveling?”

      She shrugged a shoulder and gave him a cheeky smile. “Nobody would have me.”

      “Right.” Between his murmured drawl and the lingering gaze that slowly slid away from her body, a shiver raced down her spine.

      She wondered if he was aware of the message he’d just sent. She hadn’t imagined it. No way that heated look had been wishful thinking on her part. She breathed in deeply, then tried to swallow but her mouth was too dry.

      “Ready to head back?” he asked.

      “I thought you had work to do.”

      “Not up here,” he said, lifting one brow in obvious amusement. “We irrigate the pasture when necessary.”

      “Then what are we doing here?”

      “Thought you’d enjoy the view.”

      Damn the man. Here she’d thought they were making a little headway. “You figured I couldn’t make the ride uphill and I’d beg you to take me back.”

      He lifted his Stetson then resettled it on his head, his gaze trained on the horizon. “You have a mighty suspicious mind.”

      She didn’t trust the slow easy smile that curved his mouth. Sure, they’d go back to the Sundance, because she was about ready to kill for a beer or margarita, but he wasn’t getting rid of her. Not this easily.

      COLE DIDN’T KNOW what to make of Jamie. They hadn’t spoken much on the ride back, and he liked that she was more comfortable with silence than any woman he’d ever met. She was different in other ways, too. Nothing he could pinpoint, because he didn’t know her that well yet.

      Hell, he wasn’t planning on getting to know her better. No point in it. He wasn’t that interested, and in six days she’d be gone, anyway. He’d made that mistake with his old girlfriend Bella after fooling himself into believing he knew her as well as a man could know a woman. The only thing positive he could say about the outcome was that he’d learned his lesson well. Luckily, he and Bella had worked out a comfortable arrangement and when she occasionally blew back into town for a couple of weeks, the sex was decent with no promises or expectations on either side.

      So why was he thinking about Jamie Daniels at all? Why was he hanging around the west barn, catching glimpses of her mingling with the other guests, drinking margaritas and nibbling Hilda’s homemade tortilla chips and salsa?

      By the time he’d brushed down and watered Gypsy, he’d told himself it was too late to return to work. A damn lie for sure. With another two and a half hours of daylight left, he could’ve replaced three T-joints before he’d called it a day.

      Hearing an engine, he ducked his head out to see the sheriff’s white truck coming up the drive. Between the tinted windshield and the sun’s glare, Cole couldn’t tell if it was Noah or one of his deputies. Either way, this close to supper was an odd time for anyone to call.

      He grabbed a rag to wipe his hands, and the sound of feminine laughter coming from the porch had him shaking his head. How could he have forgotten? The deputies were probably here to check out the new batch of guests who’d arrived today. Yep, he thought, sighing, the Sundance was starting to be a mighty busy place.

      About to go back inside the barn, he was surprised to see Noah climb out of the truck. They’d been friends since before either one of them could tie their shoes, and Cole knew damn well Noah hadn’t made a special trip to check out the women. He wore his customary jeans and tan uniform shirt. Had to still be working.

      Noah