With four round tables that sat eight, the room accommodated all the hands, and was also useful whenever potential buyers came to look over the Last Chance’s registered Paints. Lunch had always been a high point of Jack’s day until he’d started dating Josie. Then lunch had become an opportunity for his dad to comment on his neglect of his ranch duties.
But today Jack looked forward to the meal, both for the chili Mary Lou had made this morning, and the success he’d be able to report to Gabe and Sarah. Before lunch, though, he had time to pay Bertha Mae a visit. Maybe this afternoon he’d carve out time to work with her.
Pocketing his truck keys, he walked down to the barn. Nick’s dogs, Butch and Sundance, were sprawled on each side of the barn door, so Nick must be inside doing his veterinarian thing. Nick had found the dogs wandering along the road a couple of years ago, both looking scraggly. Now Butch’s tan and white coat shone and Sundance’s long black hair was free of burrs.
Jack gave each dog a scratch behind the ears before walking into the cool interior of the barn. “Nick, you in here?”
Nick’s voice came from a nearby stall. “Yeah. Doing a routine checkup on Calamity Sam.”
Postponing his visit to Bertha Mae, Jack made a side trip to the stall Calamity Sam shared with his mother Calamity Jane. Both mother and two-month-old foal were grey and white Paints. “How’s he doing?”
“Great.” Nick glanced up as Jack leaned his forearms on the stall door. “Healthy as a—”
Jack groaned, drowning out the rest of the tired cliché that had become a permanent family joke. Horses were a lot more delicate than they looked, and the smallest little thing, like a bad batch of grain, could kill them in no time. Raising horses was much more of a challenge than running cattle, which might be one of the reasons his dad had gradually phased out the cattle to specialize in Paints, and had further decided to train them as cutting horses. Jonathan Chance had relished a challenge.
Nick ran a practiced hand over Calamity Sam’s neck and gave the foal a pat before closing up his vet bag. “This is going to be a money horse.”
“I hope so.” Jack moved away from the stall door so Nick could come out.
“Count on it.” Nick grabbed his hat from a hook outside the stall and glanced at Jack as he put it on. “How’d it go with Josie this morning?”
Irritation pricked Jack’s good mood as he pictured Gabe spreading the word. Jack hated having his private business made public. “Does every blessed soul on the ranch know about it?”
“Pretty much everybody.” Something about Nick’s green eyes had always made him look as if he’d been up to no good, but they were especially full of the devil now. “Come on, Jack. You’ve been riding us hard for months. Don’t blame the guys for enjoying this turn of events.”
“What do you mean by enjoying?”
“There’s a pool going as to whether Josie will agree to take those riding lessons from you.”
Jack blew out a breath. “And I suppose you’re in it.”
“Hell, yes, I’m in it. I put in a long-distance call to Dominique so she could be in it. We both bet against you convincing Josie to do it.”
“Nice. Thanks for the vote of confidence, Nick.”
“Once you factor in the incident where you tried to deck her brother, it’s the reasonable bet to make.”
“They all know about that, too?” Jack’s eyes narrowed. “I’m gonna kill Gabe.”
“Then you might as well go after Mary Lou and Mom, too, because they did their share of getting the word out. So, did she shoot you down? I have a twenty riding on this, bro.”
“No, she did not shoot me down.” At least Jack had the satisfaction of proving the naysayers wrong. But suddenly lunch didn’t sound like such a good idea after all. On the other hand, if he didn’t show up, no telling what rumors would be circulated about him.
“She went for it? I guess you haven’t lost your touch, after all.” Nick punched him lightly on the shoulder. “Way to go, big brother. It’s good to see you back in the game.”
“I’m not back in the game, as you put it. I’m giving her riding lessons, period. Nothing more to it than that.”
Nick smiled. “Yeah, sure. Strictly platonic.”
“That’s right.”
“Keep telling yourself that, buddy. Keep telling yourself that.”
Jack vowed that he would. He would show Josie — hell, he would show everybody — that Jack Chance could spend time with a woman and not have it be all about sex.
Chapter Five
The next morning Josie drove down the rutted dirt road leading to the ranch with her stomach in knots and Alex’s warnings ringing in her ears. Her brother had not been happy that she’d agreed to take even one riding lesson from Jack.
Alex had volunteered to come along for the lesson, but she’d convinced him not to. Before he’d left for another day of hiking, he’d cautioned her to be careful because this riding lesson was probably Jack’s evil plan to lure her back into bed.
She couldn’t admit to Alex, and could barely admit to herself, that she almost hoped it was. She’d missed Jack, both in bed and out of it. He probably wasn’t good for her, but being celibate for months couldn’t be good for her, either.
When she’d had virtually no contact for ten months, she’d been able to convince herself that she was better off without him. His stunt two nights ago had been ludicrous, and she’d done her best to put another black mark beside his name because of it. But then he’d come into her office yesterday bringing with him all that sex appeal. She’d fought the good fight, tried to be snarky, clever, and dismissive, but in the end she’d caved.
She’d been fascinated to hear him claim that sex wouldn’t be part of this arrangement, as if he had something to prove to her. She hadn’t shared that part with Alex. He might have insisted it was a ploy to throw her off her guard.
Whether she was on or off her guard — and she hadn’t been able to assess that for sure — she’d arrived at the ranch. Her pulse rate jumped when she spotted Jack down by the barn standing beside two saddled horses tied to a hitching post.
A few other cowboys moved around the area, but Josie couldn’t seem to focus on anybody besides Jack. He’d worn her favorite black shirt, one she’d told him made him look like a gunslinger, especially paired with the black hat he loved. As always, his lean hips were tucked into a worn pair of jeans that she knew from experience would be soft as a baby’s blanket from being washed so often.
Jack made quite the picture standing beside his large black and white Paint, but she needed to stop ogling him and get this show on the road. A couple of pickups were parked beside the barn, so she drove her Bronco down there and pulled in next to them.
She’d dressed with care for this riding lesson. Fortunately she had all the right clothes. Despite knowing nothing about riding, she’d wanted to fit in with the cowboy culture and had bought boots, jeans, western shirts, and even a hat that lay brim-side up on the seat beside her.
Early on she’d learned that cowboys — and cowgirls — cherished their hats and were particular about how they were treated. No self-respecting cowboy would leave his hat for long brim-side down. A good hat belonged on a rack or brim-side up, to protect the shape the owner had given it.