Barefoot Blue Jean Night. Debbi Rawlins

stall, unisex, could be cleaner, but she didn’t care at this point. With the tissues she kept in her purse, she covered the seat, did her business, then, while she washed her hands, stared glumly into the cloudy wall mirror barely larger than an index card. She was a mess. Too little sleep the past few nights and then today … getting here had been a nightmare. Two flights, an hour-and-a-half layover, then another hour-plus of driving.

      She shook out her wet hands, deciding to use the car mirror to touch up her eye makeup and lip gloss. As soon as she stepped outside, she saw a thin older man wearing dirty coveralls circling the rental car, and appearing far too interested in the luggage she’d thrown on the backseat.

      “May I help you?” she asked, hitching her purse strap up securely on her shoulder.

      He raised his piercing gaze to her face, his dark brows pulled together in a suspicious frown. “Where you headed?”

      She hesitated, tempted to say something about his bad manners. But the lanky young man who’d given her the key rounded the corner of the building just in time.

      “Thank you,” she said, returning the key. “Are the pumps self-serve?”

      “Pull your car up and I’ll take care of it for you, ma’am.” He smiled, then studiously eyed the other man. “Got your tires ordered, Avery. They should be in next Friday.”

      The older man ignored him, his interest still firmly planted on her. “Didn’t catch where you’re headed.”

      Jamie sighed and opened the car door. She was going to ask for directions anyway. Besides, the kid knew him. “The Sundance. Do you know where it is?”

      He moved his head to the side and spat on the pavement.

      She just smiled. If he’d intended to gross her out she had news for him. There were still restaurants on the other side of the world where men used spittoons. “Was that a no?”

      “Don’t mind him. I’m Billy,” the teenager said, grinning. “You’re looking for the McAllisters’ new dude ranch.”

      “I am.”

      “Stay on the road for another five miles. You’ll see a sign for Blackfoot Falls. Take the next left after that. The road’s not so good but you’ll do fine.”

      Billy had already started backing toward the pumps so she closed her door, then pulled the compact around the building. She ignored Avery except for a brief glance in the rearview mirror. He followed close behind, but she wasn’t so much afraid as annoyed. The old-timer probably didn’t like tourists. Nothing new there, either. There was always someone fighting the idea of strangers poking around.

      She parked and lowered her window. Billy confirmed that she wanted the medium-grade gas, then started topping off her tank, which didn’t require much, but she had used their restroom after all.

      “Hey, Billy? Got a question for you.”

      He looked up. “Ma’am?”

      “My name is Jamie, by the way. Are there any other dude ranches in the area?”

      “Nope. This is the first. Only been open a week so we haven’t seen many visitors yet. Heard they’re taking on people clear through the fall, though.”

      From behind her, Avery muttered a curse.

      Jamie jumped because she hadn’t realized he’d been standing near the compact’s bumper.

      “Don’t mind him. He just don’t like strangers.” Billy shot the man a look of disgust. “Pretty sorry thing when I gotta remind my elder to mind his manners.”

      “No good is gonna come of that dude ranch business, I tell ya,” Avery grumbled. “This is cattle country. Always was, always will be. We’ve had hard times before and we rode it out. You youngsters are too damn impatient.” He spat again and then ambled toward a dusty dark green pickup.

      Shaking his head, Billy pulled the nozzle out of the tank and returned it to the pump. “He’s not the only one upset with the McAllisters.” He took a rag from his back pocket and wiped his hands. “That’ll be nine dollars even.”

      “Why?” Jamie passed him a ten, motioned for him to keep the change.

      He blinked, not looking eager to volunteer more information. Finally shrugging, he said, “Some folks feel like Avery. They don’t want outsiders poking around. The other half hopes it’ll bring business to the town and no more stores will have to shut down.”

      She gave him a reassuring smile. “Everyone is having problems. I travel for a living and it’s not pretty out there.”

      “Yeah, I know, but the McAllisters … they’re like … let’s just say everyone was kinda shocked when Cole had to turn away help.” Billy chuckled. “Though not as shocked as when they found out Rachel had talked him into the dude ranch.”

      “Rachel … the sister, right?”

      Billy’s smile faded, and he flushed. “I shouldn’t be talkin’ about the McAllisters,” he mumbled. “They’re good people. The best.” He backed away. “You have a nice time over there.”

      “I will.” She smiled, then pulled back onto the highway.

      She found the sign to Blackfoot Falls with no problem and turned onto the road, which after a couple of miles went from rutting pavement to rough gravel. Obviously the dude ranch idea was a recent one or they might have done something about this road. She didn’t care, though, especially when she saw the overhead iron sign strung between two poles, announcing the Sundance.

      Jamie turned onto yet another gravel road, and the spectacular view of the Rockies in the background nearly stole her breath. Knowing she was on the right track, she looked her fill. Within minutes she saw a group of buildings, several trucks … As she got closer, she noticed three women, one of them wearing a pink sundress, laughing with a couple of cowboys.

      She squinted to see if she recognized any of the brothers, but it was dusty and her gaze got caught on the sprawling house itself. It was beautiful, huge and looked exactly like the pictures in the online brochure. But it was the tall, lean cowboy standing near the porch that had her heart doing a cartwheel.

       3

      “I THINK IT’S HER because everyone else booked in pairs,” Rachel said, trying to look casual as the small red Ford nosed its way toward the house. She elbowed Cole in the ribs. “So don’t be rude.”

      Cole glanced at his sister. “When have you ever known me to be rude?”

      “At the harvest dance five years ago when Maggie Johnson pinched your ass.”

      “That was self-defense.”

      Rachel chuckled. “She thought she was going to marry you.”

      “Where the hell did she get that idea?” He tugged down the rim of his hat so he could look without the lady knowing he was eyeing her. No sense her getting any wrong ideas right out of the chute. Only natural he was curious. Quite an assortment of young ladies had been parading around the ranch for the past week. Some real pretty, but most of them kind of silly.

      “Mmm, might have been me.”

      He turned from watching the Daniels woman park her car and stared at his sister. “You better be joking.”

      “We were fourteen when I told her that. She should’ve gotten over it by then and married Paul Haas,” Rachel muttered, and walked toward the car.

      Cole stayed where he was, able to get only a vague glimpse of the new guest through her car’s tinted-glass windows. The driver’s door opened, and she climbed out, the sun catching the gold in her tawny hair, which was pulled back into a ponytail.

      The open door blocked a good part of his view as she shook hands with Rachel. She matched his sister’s height of about five-five,