Barefoot Blue Jean Night

“Such as?”

“High diesel-fuel costs, consumers’ shrinking grocery budgets. Corn has gone way up because so much of the crop is going for ethanol …” He continued while she listened intently, nodding occasionally and not once interrupting.

His speech went on longer than he’d intended, maybe because it felt good to release some of the pressure, but he cut himself off when he saw the depressed expression on Trace’s face. Jesse had slumped deeper into the couch and stared at his boots. Only Rachel looked unbowed. She sat forward, her green eyes sparkling and ready to do battle.

“I have an idea—” she said thoughtfully “—that just might solve our problems … at least in the short term … and who knows, maybe for the long term, as well.”

Cole tamped down his amusement. Although he was all for her participation, she was about to learn there was no easy answer. “What’s that?”

“Don’t say anything until I’m finished because it won’t cost much to get started—”

“Rachel, wait, stop. We don’t have any money. I don’t know how to say it more plainly.”

She put up her hands. “Hear me out.”

“All right,” Cole said, his jaw clenched. Jesus, he’d thought it was a kindness to spare the women useless worry. Obviously he was wrong. Rachel couldn’t seem to process the ugly truth.

“I’ve had this thought for a while, a couple of years really—ever since my sorority sisters went all gaga over the pictures of the Sundance on my screen saver slide show.” A big smile stretched across her flushed face. “What would you think about starting a dude ranch?”

Thunderstruck, Cole and Jesse stared at her.

Trace snorted. “A what?”

“A dude ranch. You know … kind of like a big bed-and-breakfast where people come for vacation and go on trail rides and watch rodeos, have cookouts, go white-water rafting and—”

“I understand what a dude ranch is,” Trace said with disgust. “I’m trying to figure out if you’ve gone loco.”

Rachel pressed her lips together, and then calmly said, “I’m not surprised at your reaction.” She looked from Trace to Cole to Jesse. “But we have plenty of extra room we don’t even use, a whole separate wing of the house, in fact, and there won’t be much start-up cost because we already have everything right here.”

“This is a cattle ranch,” Cole said quietly, even though he was with Trace; their sister was nuts. “We don’t know the first thing about catering to folks used to living with conveniences, and we can’t afford the extra help.”

“Mom, Hilda and I can take care of the rooms and meals. Trace and the hands can take turns providing the outings,” she said, and Trace groaned, then muttered an oath. Without missing a beat, Rachel continued, “I’ll do all the advertising and bookings online, which will cost next to nothing, and I’ll design the website. I’m very good at it. We might even be able to attract sponsors to help cover costs.”

Cole shook his head. “The place needs painting, we’ll need insurance and trying to sidestep kids running around will only—”

Trace grunted. “I like kids well enough, but city folk don’t seem to get it—they’ll be underfoot while we’re trying to work….”

“How about we don’t accept kids?” Rachel said. “Maybe later we’ll expand to families, but for now I’m thinking we should cater to single women. They’d be much simpler to accommodate. Plus I know how to push all the right buttons to have them lining up to make a reservation.”

“Shit, you’re out of your mind,” Jesse murmured, and Cole couldn’t even speak he was so flabbergasted.

“Hey, wait a minute.” Trace’s eyes sharpened with new interest. “Let Rachel finish.”

Her lips lifted in a triumphant smile. “I figured that way the hands wouldn’t balk too much, either.”

“No,” Cole said flatly.

His sister’s flash of disappointment transformed into a glare of pure challenge. “You have a better idea?”

Cole cleared his throat. He sure hadn’t expected this confrontation so soon. “I have one, but I figured we could do some brainstorming.”

Rachel folded her arms across her chest. “Yet you’re quick to shoot me down.”

“Your suggestion isn’t practical,” Cole said irritably. “And you know that.”

Trace shrugged. “I kind of like Rachel’s way of thinking.”

Cole and Jesse both gave him a long, blistering look.

“Well, big brother, what’s your idea?” Rachel caught and held Cole’s gaze. “We’re all listening.”

Cole breathed in deeply. “There’s a couple of hundred acres running south of the creek that we haven’t used for years. Tell you the truth, I can’t see it ever being much use to us and …”

Three pairs of wounded eyes stared at him as if he’d just committed high treason. Jesse spoke first, his voice thick with denial. “You’re not saying we should sell McAllister land.”

The door creaked open. They all turned their heads and watched their mother slowly cross the threshold. Her devastated expression erased any doubt that she’d been listening.

“No,” Cole said, the bitter taste of defeat coating the inside of his mouth. “Guess I’m not.” His gaze moved back to Rachel, who had the good grace not to smirk.

2

JAMIE DANIELS PICKED UP the lavender taffeta dress she’d never wear again even if she lived to be a hundred, and carried it to her closet. What had Linda been thinking when she’d chosen the frilly ruffled concoction? And for an August afternoon wedding in Los Angeles? Jamie’s jaw had about hit the floor the day her friend had marshaled her and the other two bridesmaids to the bridal shop to get their opinion.

It wasn’t as if Jamie had held back, she’d been as tactful as she knew how to be considering all three selections had been pretty horrific. Linda had wanted purple and ruffles and there’d been no getting around it. Jill and Kaylee had both tied the knot several months before and had been more zen about the whole thing. Apparently they had the same “perfect wedding” gene, where nothing, not even good taste, was allowed to alter one single piece of the dream.

Sighing, Jamie hung the lavender dress behind the other bridesmaids’ dresses at the far end of her walk-in closet. The blue one she could probably wear again to a fancy cocktail reception, but the other two she’d keep for a respectable length of time and then donate them to a worthy charity to help make some other woman’s silly dream come true.

Good God, when had she become so jaded? Just because she hadn’t given marriage a thought, it didn’t mean the wedding tradition was silly. Besides, she was happy for her two friends and her cousin Kaylee. She was. Really. She just wished she didn’t suddenly feel so damn alone.

She drew in a deep breath, a bit surprised that she’d allowed herself the admission. Of course it didn’t matter, because she’d rebound soon. She always did. She’d learned survival at an early age. Her parents were diplomats. They traveled extensively, which meant she’d traveled, changed schools, changed friends, adopted new languages, adapted to different customs. Her unconventional childhood had turned her into a chameleon.

Ironically, it was during the three years she’d been sent back to the States to live with her aunt Liz, uncle Philip and cousin Kaylee on their Georgia farm that Jamie had had the most trouble adjusting. Mainly because for the first nine years of her life she’d never been separated from her parents for more than a few days. But then the embassy where they’d worked had come under attack and before she knew it she’d been strapped into a seat on a military plane, by herself. And no amount of tears and begging had stopped her parents from sending her away.

She still remembered staring out the window as the plane ascended, watching the gray smoke rise from the city below, convinced she’d never see her mother and father again. Oh, she had seen them all right, a year later … for a mere week before they’d returned to the lion’s den. Though the fighting was over, the tensions had remained high in that part of the world and it was decided she’d stay in Georgia until they were assigned another post.

They’d done their job as parents and protected her from harm. Both of them were crazy smart with Ivy League educations, the works. But they’d failed to see that a child could suffer more than physical damage. They’d chosen their careers over her, and she’d spent three years wondering if they’d found that they preferred being childless. On her twelfth birthday they’d surprised her by showing up at the farm and whisking her away to their new post in Singapore. Two years later she was shipped off to boarding school and her relationship with them had never been the same.

Why in the world was she thinking about all this now? Maybe too much champagne at the wedding reception. She never did care for bubbly, not even the really good stuff, but she’d drunk her share of mimosas because, wow, had it been warm all afternoon.

Pulling her hair off her neck, she moved to the window and stared out at the Los Angeles skyline. She loved her condo smack-dab in the middle of West L.A., even though she wasn’t home much. When she wasn’t gallivanting about the globe, gathering interesting tidbits for her travel blog, she adored holing up for days at a time with a few pints of Häagen-Dazs, leaving only to go for a dip in the rooftop pool or for a workout in the building’s fitness club.

The trouble was, for six years, Linda, Jill and Kaylee had all lived within a five-mile radius of her. One or all three of them would pop over for lunch or lure her out for a last-minute drink at the Beverly Hilton. Now they were all married, relocated to the Valley. Well, Linda hadn’t moved yet, but it was only a matter of time.

Jolted by the sudden ache of loneliness that swept through her, Jamie pressed her forehead to the glass. Her vision blurred a little and she blinked to clear it. Now who was she going to call at one in the morning to complain about a bad date? Or to squeal over a totally hot guy that she’d met at the airport? Who would she take on trips? Sometimes Jill had gone with her to Europe or Canada, while Kaylee had preferred the Asian getaways.

Straightening, Jamie smiled, remembering the Mississippi River houseboat she’d rented for two weeks. She couldn’t recall how she’d talked Linda into that fiasco but, man, had they laughed … so hard sometimes that it hurt. Amazing they’d both survived their ineptness on the water. But in the end they’d agreed they’d had a fabulous time seeing parts of the South they never would’ve seen otherwise, meeting incredible people, eating ridiculously yummy deep-fried food she’d never dreamed would touch her lips.

That particular adventure had elevated her blog to the million-hits level. After that her numbers kept climbing and she’d attracted enough paying advertisers to carve out a nice niche for herself. Only twenty-eight and living the dream. She couldn’t ask for more….