Barefoot Blue Jean Night. Debbi Rawlins

but I’m on duty.”

      “We have iced tea,” Rachel shouted. “Hilda made fresh salsa. Thick and spicy the way you like it.”

      Noah gave her a strained smile and a small shake of his head.

      Chuckling, Cole watched a dozen women track his progress. A few were sitting on the rockers and the swing, but most of them stood at the railing, staring and showing their teeth. It might’ve looked like a Tupperware party except women around these parts tended not to run around half-naked, getting sunburned and wearing impractical high-heeled sandals.

      As soon as Noah was close enough, he gestured with his eyes for them to meet inside the barn.

      Try as he might to resist, Cole slid a parting glance toward Jamie. She wasn’t watching Noah. Her gaze was on Cole. He pretended not to notice and waited inside.

      His friend followed him with a scowl on his face.

      “What? You don’t like being eyed like a side of prime Angus?” Cole laughed at the hand gesture. “I heard they’re partial to a man in uniform.”

      Noah snorted. “What the hell are you hanging around for? Didn’t figure I’d catch you here.”

      Cole shrugged. “I took one of the new guests for a ride up to Big Jim Flats and just brought her back.”

      “You?” Noah’s tanned face creased in surprise. “Which one?”

      “What difference does it make?” Cole grabbed the pitchfork he’d been using and irritably stuck it in the hay. “It was a favor to Rachel.”

      “Could’ve sworn you said you were staying out of the business.”

      “You drove all the way out here to be a pain in my ass?”

      Noah smiled, and from his position in the shadows of the barn door, ducked to get an undetected look at the porch. “I bet it was the blonde in the white shorts.”

      “Care to lay down a hundred on that?”

      Noah eyed him with new interest, then went back to studying the assortment of ladies. “Can’t be the one in the jeans.”

      Cole thought for a moment. Jamie was the only guest with the good sense to be wearing the appropriate clothes. “Where?”

      “Right there. Dark blond hair. Real cute. Got a bum leg.”

      Cole shouldered his friend aside. Jamie’s hair was dark blond but there was nothing wrong with her leg. He would’ve noticed. “Who are you talking about?”

      “She just sat down next to Rachel, but she’s got a bad limp. Hope she didn’t get hurt on your property.”

      “Jamie hadn’t been limping,” he murmured, half to himself. “Are you sure?”

      “Jamie?”

      Cole watched her grimace as she leaned over to take a beer off the tray Hilda had carried out. Rachel patted her arm with concern. Jamie shook her head, and gave a strained smile.

      “Christ almighty.” Cole sighed heavily. He understood the problem now, and he was mainly to blame.

      Noah gave him a long measuring look. “What’s wrong?”

      The guy was more than a good friend, he was like a brother, but Cole wasn’t in the mood to discuss Jamie with him, or anyone. Fortunately, Trace chose the perfect time to step out of the house and onto the porch. He’d changed into clean jeans and his hair was damp from a shower.

      Snorting, Cole motioned with his chin. “Look at that.”

      Noah chuckled. “Maybe you can get stud fees for the kid.”

      “That’s a thought.” Cole grunted. “Hell, might be the only way I’d get a decent day’s work out of him. Ever since the women got here he’s been doing nothing but preening like a rooster.”

      They both watched Trace shamelessly flirt with the guests. The women swarmed to him like hummingbirds to nectar. Not Jamie, though. She stayed where she was, talking to Rachel, occasionally laughing at something someone said. When she glanced toward the barn, Cole turned away.

      “You really on duty?” he asked Noah.

      “Yeah.” Noah took off his hat and slapped it against the front of his thigh sending dust particles in the air. “Got a call from Mrs. Clements. Claims someone stole one of her four-wheelers.”

      “Can’t be right.” There hadn’t been a theft in Salinas County for as long as Cole could recall. “The old woman has so much junk on her property, she probably misplaced it.”

      “That’s my way of thinking. Naturally Avery had to stick his nose in, jabbering on about how this is what happens when you bring in outsiders.”

      Cole stared at his friend. “You think one of the … Is that why you’re here?”

      “You know me better than that, McAllister.” Noah sighed. “I figured I’d ask around, see if anyone’s noticed if things have gone missing.”

      He shook his head. “The men would’ve mentioned it.”

      “I expect it’ll turn out to be nothing, just like you said, probably misplaced. But the truth is, these are hard times. We don’t like to think our neighbors would resort to stealing, but a lot of men are out of work and they’ve got kids to feed. They see an elderly widow hoarding stuff she doesn’t use—” Noah shrugged, his expression grim. “Who’s to say …?”