Roping the Rancher

She pinned him with her best no-nonsense, we’re-not-going-anywhere-on-a-personal-level stare. “These will be huge on me. I’m not sure your belt has a hole tight enough to keep the jeans from falling off. Doesn’t your daughter have something I could borrow?”

“I can’t loan you anything of Jess’s without written permission. My luck, whatever I gave you would turn out to be her favorite pants. You’d fall in another cow pie or snag them on something in the barn, and I’d be a dead man.”

His words said with a straight face and a tinge of fear rippling in his voice made her smile. Humor? What an odd, but not unpleasant, combination with his take-charge attitude.

“You’re afraid of a sixteen-year-old girl?” she teased back.

“Damn right. You were that age once. Don’t you remember what you were like with your clothes then?”

“What was I thinking?” At that age she’d been on a hit TV series. Her image had been everything, and yes, she’d been fanatical about her clothes.

“A smart man knows when not to press his luck.” He took the clothes from her and placed them on his enormous bed. Then he pointed to the door opposite the closet. “There’s the bathroom. The towels are in the linen closet and the soap’s in the shower. My robe’s on the back of the bathroom door. Try the clothes or put on the robe. I don’t care which.”

Then he told her where to find the washer and dryer, and said to join him and Ryan when she could. He was out the door before she could even comment.

Stacy found Colt’s bathroom in the same pristinely clean and organized fashion as his bedroom. After she washed up, she grabbed the forest-green terrycloth bathrobe off the hook and slipped the garment on. An earthy smell mixed with a spicy scent flowed over her as if the man had wrapped her in his strong arms.

Not good.

Wearing his robe was way too intimate. She smoothed her hand down the fluffy fabric. How could she feel a connection with a man by putting on his bathrobe? It was silly, but in slipping into the garment, she felt exactly that—connected.

A vision of Colt, strong and confident, standing in this room, wearing this same garment filled her vision. While the robe reached her ankles, the garment would hit him just below the knees. She could see him, the robe gaping to reveal his muscled chest, standing in front of the sink shaving that stern chin of his. Then she saw his clear blue eyes focused on her as a woman in this room.

Wrong move. Afraid of the ache pulsing in her body, she scooped up her dirty clothes and headed for the bedroom door. She had to get out of his room. Intent on escape, she flung open the door and almost barreled into a dark-haired teenager with caramel-colored eyes, a Chihuahua clutched in her arms. Except for her strong chin, she looked nothing like her father.

She must be the exact image of her mother.

“Are you Jess?” After the teen nodded, Stacy continued to introduce herself. “I’m Ryan’s sister. Thanks for showing him the ropes at school.”

“He told me about the movie you’re making. I can’t wait to see it in the theater. Maggie said I can be an extra in a couple of scenes.”

Not knowing what else to say, Stacy said, “Cute dog. What’s its name?”

“Thor.”

“That’s an interesting choice for a name.”

“I know. It drives people crazy.” Jess tossed Stacy a saucy grin. “You were one of the finalists when Griffin was on Finding Mrs. Right.”

“That was me.”

“Getting dumped on national TV had to suck.”

Sure did. Thanks for bringing up the pleasant subject. Being on that show and some comment about the disastrous finale would end up on her tombstone. Some bad decisions kept on giving. “It wasn’t a lot of fun. For a while I was the punch line to some pretty nasty jokes.”

“It hurts when you get made fun of for someone else’s choices.”

She knows because she’s been there. The words to ask what had happened with Jess sat perched on her tongue. No, she wouldn’t ask. No attachments, remember? She was only here for ten weeks. Get in. Do the job. Get Ryan the help he needs and get out.

“Luckily there’s a new scandal every five minutes in Hollywood, so everyone moved on pretty quickly.”

“Dad sent me to see if you need anything.”

“I’m good, but thanks for asking.” Stacy nodded toward the wadded clothes in her hands. “I was just going to put these in the washer. I’m not sure I can salvage them, but I’m going to try.”

“I heard about your fall. The first thing I learned when we moved here was to always watch where I step.”

“I could’ve used that info earlier,” Stacy joked as she followed the teenager downstairs to the utility room where they tossed her clothes into the washer. “I’m a little taller than you are, but I could also use something to wear. Maybe some sweatpants and a T-shirt? Your dad said he couldn’t loan me anything of yours without written permission.”

“He knows better than to mess with my clothes. One time I put a load of my stuff in the washer before I left for school. He came along and put them in the dryer. I didn’t talk to him for a week after my favorite jeans shrank so much I looked like I was ready for a flood.”

“That hurts. A shirt can be replaced. That’s easy, but jeans?”

“I know. It’s about impossible to find a pair that fit right and look good.”

Stacy nodded in feminine understanding. “Guys don’t get that.”

“Especially a cowboy. Any pair of Wranglers is fine with them.” Together they headed upstairs again. When Jess opened the door, Stacy realized looks weren’t the only way this girl differed from her father. Clothes, books and papers littered every surface. Obviously she hadn’t inherited her father’s neat-freak tendencies.

After digging through her dresser, Jess pulled out a pair of gray knit yoga-style pants and a plain white T-shirt. “These should work and don’t worry about getting them back to me right away. I only wear them to sleep in.”

“Thanks. I want to see how Ryan’s doing, and I can’t go to the barn in a bathrobe.” Jess handed her the clothing. “Your dad said I could put on a pair of his jeans and one of his shirts.”

Jess laughed. “Sure, that would work. The pants would end up around your ankles.”

“That’s what I said.” Stacy shook her head. “His solution was to hand me one of his belts.”

“My dad’s a great guy, but sometimes he’s such a guy.”

That was one thing Colt Montgomery was. All man.

* * *

IN THE BARN, Ryan leaned on his walker and looked at Colt. The haunted look in the teen’s gaze reached out to Colt, reminding him of the look he used to see in Reed’s eyes at that age. This kid had seen way too much and been hurt a time or two.

“Thanks for telling my sister to lighten up. She’s gotten a little overprotective since my accident.”

“I picked up on her being the worrier type, but I bet it’s only while she’s awake.”

Ryan smiled, and some of the tension left his face. His shoulders relaxed, too. “She’s always watched out for me. Our dad died when I was a baby and our mom’s worthless. It was just the two of us.”

Like him and Reed. Two kids clinging to each other through the storms of life that tossed them around. Now her protectiveness made sense.

“That’s why we went to court to get her named my guardian.”

Colt wondered about why she’d legally taken on the parent role with her brother when he read the application. That told him a lot. How many sisters would do that? She could’ve turned eighteen, moved out of the house and went on with her life without giving her brother much thought. She could’ve left him to fend for himself.

Like he’d done with Reed.