A Baby in the Bunkhouse (11 page)

 

“H
OW COME YOU
got all those college catalogs and applications in the mail today?” Stretch asked over dinner that night in the bunkhouse.

There had been an embarrassing array of business-school applications and brochures in the mail that afternoon. “My sister Mindy requested them,” Jacey explained.

“You want to go back to college?” Curly said.

No, Jacey thought, suppressing a sigh, she did not.

“Then why does she think you do?” Hoss asked.

Aware Rafferty was looking at her with an even bigger question in his eyes, Jacey replied, “Because Mindy wants me to do more with my life, always has.”

“What's wrong with being a ranch cook?” Red huffed.

“Jacey is a property manager by profession,” Eli interjected.

Rafferty looked at Jacey, as if it didn't matter to him one way or another. “Do you want to go back to that?” he asked.

She had.

“Yeah, did you like doing that for a living?” Hoss asked.

Aware all eyes were on her, Jacey nodded. “I enjoyed making people happy, and really that's all it is, making sure people's needs are met when it comes to their residences.”

“Which is kind of what you do here, too,” Curly flashed her his usual grin.

Hoss patted his full belly. “Make us all happy and content.”

Everyone nodded approvingly—except for Rafferty, who was busy contemplating what little remained of the beef brisket, potato salad, beans and slaw on his plate. He avoided her eyes the rest of dinner. Eli was a little too quiet, too. It didn't take long to find out why. As soon as she returned to the house and put Caitlin down, Eli asked to speak to Jacey in the living room. Rafferty was there, too.

“Dad has something he wants to talk to you about,” Rafferty said.

“Since I'm the one who hired you, I think I should be the one to talk to you about when it is you might be leaving. Or even if you still plan to leave,” Eli said. There was no pressure in the older gentleman's tone, just the need to know. Rafferty was equally poker-faced.

And suddenly Jacey knew what she had to do, even though it went against all her instincts. “I agreed to stay temporarily—through the holidays. And I think we should stick to that,” she stated firmly, telling herself that no matter what eventually happened between her and Rafferty, terminating her position would definitely be for the best.

Ignoring the searching look in Rafferty's eyes, she swallowed hard and forced herself to go on, as if this were any other business discussion. “You two both know I'm looking for a job in my profession, following up on leads. At this point, I don't have anything solid, but that isn't to say I won't get an interview tomorrow.” Especially if she was a little more aggressive in going after the tips she had been given.

She paused. “If you'd like me to help you look for a new cook—or screen applicants—I could do that. I've got experience interviewing and hiring employees at the properties I've managed, and I know the men's likes and dislikes.”

She thought but couldn't be sure she saw a brief flash of hurt and disappointment in Rafferty's blue eyes. “We're not trying to push you into leaving,” he interjected quietly.

“Certainly not,” Eli added quickly. “The fellas all love you, Jacey, and Rafferty and I—we both feel like you're a member of the Lost Mountain Ranch family.”

The problem was, Jacey thought, she wanted to be so much more than that.

 

R
AFFERTY WAITED
until his father retired for the evening before he searched out Jacey. She was in his study, seated behind his desk, looking intently at the advertisements they had been running for ranch cook. The sight of her so focused brought home the fact that she had a whole other life she was eager to get back to.

Pushing aside the fear that, like his late wife, Jacey was never going to be happy on the ranch long-term, he said, “Thanks for offering to find and screen applicants. We still on for Saturday?”

“Sure. Figure out what we're going to do yet?”

“I'm working on it.”

“Good. Listen—” she motioned for him to take a seat on the opposite side “—I think you need to start by running your ad in something other than area newspapers. You're only reaching locals, who probably already have jobs in restaurants, and that's a whole different arena. You need to start placing ads on Web sites that focus on jobs in the food industry. If you would prefer not to pay the fee for that—”

“We'll pay it.”

“—you can go to some of the culinary schools around the state, and let them know what you are looking for in a chef. Someone right out of school, looking to further their experience, might jump at the chance to work here.”

They were all great ideas, exactly what he would have expected from someone as bright and innovative as Jacey. He would have jumped on them in an instant if he had wanted to replace her.

“What's the problem?” She set down her pen.

Rafferty figured he might as well be honest. “We're never going to find anyone as perfect as you.”

She flushed and turned away. “Sure you will.”

She didn't look any happier about leaving Lost Mountain Ranch than he was. “I don't think so.” He got up quietly and went around to sit on the edge of the desk, facing her. “And the men don't think so, either.”

She rocked back in the chair. “It'll be better, Rafferty,” she said in a low, strangled voice.

Right now, he wasn't seeing how.

“And there are other considerations besides how messy this could get, if we…”

“Continue our affair?” he guessed.

The flush in her cheeks deepened. “And there is my duty to my daughter.” She pushed back the desk chair, stood and began to pace. “I'm going to have to put Caitlin through college one day, and pay for a lot of stuff along the way. I need to place myself in a situation that will offer a lot more potential for advancement.”

It was a valid concern. Still, he couldn't help but feel disappointed. He stood, too. “So you are going back to property management.”

She pivoted to face him. “Probably, at least in the short run,” she confirmed. Silence fell. She met his eyes. “Once I'm back in the city, I'll have more options. I can keep looking for something better.” She shrugged and sighed. “Maybe eventually do what I've talked about for years, and open my own business.”

This was news. “What kind of business?”

Her lips curved in a self-conscious smile. “Believe it or not, I've always wanted to own a kitchenware and cookbook shop. Kind of like a down-home, Texas version of Williams-Sonoma.”

Rafferty smiled back. “I could see you doing that.”

Her eyes lit up. “I love to cook. Love cookbooks. Particularly love gadgets that make things in the kitchen a whole lot easier. But—” she went back to pacing restlessly “—that again would take cash to get going, and I don't want to spend my entire savings on something that might or might not work out. Not when I have Caitlin to consider. But enough about that. Back to this ad.” She sank down in the chair and picked up her paper and pen, all business once again. “Let's try to craft one together that will attract the kind of employee you need.”

No more eager to see her go than before, Rafferty rubbed his jaw. “Let's see. Gorgeous, pregnant, lost…no, that was you.”

Her laughter filled the room. “Very funny, cowboy.”

Serious now, Rafferty inched closer. With effort, he kept his hands to himself. “It won't be the same around here without you.”

Emotion flickered in her eyes, then disappeared. “You'll get over it,” she told him calmly.

Rafferty didn't think so. But sensing Jacey did not want to hear that right now, he let it go and went back to the work at hand. He had ten days to get Jacey to see that being a city girl wasn't all it was cracked up to be, ten days to get her to change her mind and convince her to stay on Lost Mountain Ranch. Ten days until Christmas to make his case.

He better get a move-on.

“No one has ever sewn me a Christmas stocking before,” Hoss told Jacey the following evening.

“They're real pretty,” Gabby agreed.

“We ought to hang 'em on the mantel right now,” Curly declared.

“Put yours and Caitlin's up there, too,” Eli directed with a smile.

Glad the mantel was large and long enough to hold that many stockings, Jacey got them all tacked up, until only one was left. A glance at the embroidered lettering across the tip showed it belonged to Rafferty—who was typically, when the holiday atmosphere heated up—nowhere in sight.

“Where did Rafferty go?” Jacey asked, exasperated she hadn't seen the lonesome rancher slip out in the after-dinner activity.

“He said somethin' about checking on one of the horses down in the barn,” Red remarked.

Probably, Jacey thought, so he wouldn't have to ooh and aah over the new decorations. Heaven forbid he actually get all the way into the spirit, along with everyone else. She imagined he figured that it was enough when he occasionally did peripheral stuff, like put lights on a tree. Without actively enjoying himself. “Do you think Rafferty wants his up here or at the house?” Jacey asked Eli matter-of-factly.

Eli shrugged. “You'll have to ask him.”

Deciding she wasn't going to let Rafferty backslide from the small but significant progress they'd already made, Jacey decided. “All right. I will. You fellas keep an eye on Caitlin for me?”

“Absolutely.” Stretch spoke for the cowboys. “We've all got to have our turn to give her a cuddle before she goes off to the main house for the night, you know.”

They weren't kidding about that, Jacey thought. There was no end to the grumbling if everyone didn't get their turn to interact with the bunkhouse baby. Grinning, Jacey grabbed her fitted black suede jacket off the coatrack by the door. “I'll be back as soon as I talk some holiday cheer into you-know-who.”

“Good luck with that!” The men were still chuckling when Jacey slipped out the door of the bunkhouse and walked across the yard to the barn. The night was crisp and cold. A full moon shone overhead.

She stepped into the barn. Rafferty was just outside a stall, toward the end. He had what looked like a first-aid kit in his hand. She strode toward him, trying not to notice how good he looked, in a pine-green shirt, dark denim jeans and boots. The set of his clean-shaven jaw gave him a sexy, don't-mess-with-me look that sent another tingle of excitement down her spine.

“What are you doing?” she demanded, stopping a short distance away.

His probing glance made a leisurely tour of her body before returning to her eyes. “Exactly what it looks like—applying liniment and bandages to Rocket's sore leg,” he told her.

Guilt washed through Jacey as she realized the beautiful bay's front right leg did look a little swollen, from ankle to knee joint. “How did he get hurt?”

Hunkering down, Rafferty packed ice around the bandages and secured it with elastic bandage. “He overdid it a little bit today, when we were out chasing down some stray cattle. He's not as young as he used to be.”

He straightened and ran a soothing hand down the horse's neck. Rocket leaned into his touch, nickering softly in response.

Rafferty gave him another pat, and a piece of apple, then shut the stall door. He hung the first-aid kit on a hook on the wall and headed for the metal sink.

Jacey watched him lather up. “You're good at this.”

He shot her a knowing smile. “Thank you.”

“So good I have to wonder why you didn't finish vet school.”

He tore off a square of paper towel and dried his palms. He hooked his thumbs in the belt loops on either side of his jeans. “Because one semester in, I knew I didn't want to spend all my time taking care of animals,” he said. “I wanted to run a whole ranch. Manage the grasses, make the numbers work, find the right cowboys for the job and make 'em family. So I came back here.”

Aware she would be wise not to press him on this, Jacey lounged against the tack-room wall. “Looks like you've done a good job here, too.”

He leaned in close and rested a forearm aside of her head. A second later, he was standing directly in front of her. “If I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to butter me up.”

Jacey's throat went dry. “Now, why would I want to do that?”

“I don't know…” He moved away, headed into the aisle-way. “Yet.”

She hurried to catch up. As she passed the first stall, the horse inside snorted loudly and pawed the concrete floor. Startled, she jumped back.

Rafferty came to take her arm and lead her past the securely quartered animal. “I take it you haven't spent much time around horses,” he said.

Not sure who wouldn't be a little nervous around a thousand-pound animal that stood a good two feet taller than she did, Jacey grimaced. “That would be correct.”

“How come?”

“I grew up in the suburbs of San Antonio, remember?” Even if she had wanted to take riding lessons, which she hadn't, there would have been no money for it.

“So I take it you don't know how to ride.”

“Also correct.”

He stopped in the office, next to the door, at the other end of the stables. He switched on the light and led the way inside. “Ever want to learn?”

“Not sure.”

She studied his expression, unable to tell if he was disappointed…or relieved. “Do you think I should?” she asked finally.

His lips took on an implacable slant. “I don't think anyone should do anything they don't want to do.” He sat down at the scarred wooden desk and opened up a file with Rocket's name typed across the front.

She watched him update the medical record by hand. “You told me that Angelica was an accomplished horsewoman.”

He rocked back in the old wooden swivel chair, folded his hands behind his head. “Riding was the only thing she liked about being here.”

Jacey came around to sit on the edge of the desk, next to him. “She knew that going in and married you anyway?”

He turned his gaze away, admitted candidly, “She loved the ranch at first. Really enjoyed the fact that she had her pick of horses and could ride for miles on such beautiful and challenging terrain.”

“How did you meet?” Jacey asked.

Rafferty exhaled. The way he looked at Jacey just then let her know he didn't talk about this to just anyone. “She was doing a photo shoot not too far from here for one of the big fashion magazines,” he said, a cynical glint coming into his eyes. “It was a southwestern theme, so they had 'em in evening wear and jewels, out among the cactus. Really ridiculous, if you ask me. But Angelica grew up in Texas, so for her it was like coming home. She thought Summit was a charming little mountain town, and she liked the idea of hooking up with a real cowboy.” A shadow crossed his face. “We dated off and on for a couple years. She'd jet in—I'd pick her up—we'd come back here. It was never more than a weekend at a time, for a few months at a time. Maybe if we'd spent more time together…I don't know…” His voice turned gruff as the memories enveloped him. “Anyway, it was toward the end of her career. Thirty is old for her business. She wanted kids. I did, too. So we got married and she got pregnant right away. I thought she'd be as happy as I was about starting a new life. Having a child.”

“But she wasn't,” Jacey guessed.

Rafferty shook his head. “She was bored out of her mind. She didn't like to cook. She didn't want to decorate. There was nothing—and no one—in town who interested her.”

“Sounds pretty miserable,” she noted, her heart going out to him.

“For all of us,” he conceded. “And I blame myself for that. I talked her into making what we had permanent. I'll never do that again. Try to convince a city girl to stay with me against her better judgment. Because city girls don't belong on a remote ranch like this.”

Jacey protested, “I'm a city girl.”

“And, after little more than six weeks, already planning to leave.”

Not because she felt hemmed in or bored, Jacey amended silently. “Which is why you're so open to a fling,” she observed, suddenly not so sure that was a good thing, after all.

His lips compressed. He looked as discontented as she felt. “I'm well aware it might be all we ever have.”

“And yet…” Her heart began to race.

He caught her by the waist, pulling her off the desk and onto his lap. “That doesn't mean I'll let the chance to be with you go by unrealized.” He lifted the veil of her hair and kissed his way down the exposed column of her throat, to her collarbone.

Unable to help herself, Jacey moaned low in her throat. She splayed her hands across his chest. “This isn't why I came down here.”

He threaded his hand through the hair at the nape of her neck, angling her head beneath his, pressed a kiss to the top of her head and her cheek. Yet another on the corner of her lips. “Why did you?”

Her face rested against the incredibly smooth-shaven warmth of his. Had it ever felt so good to simply be held? she wondered. Had she ever felt as safe and protected and wanted as she did when she was in his arms? “Your Christmas stocking.” She snuggled against the rock-solid heat of his body. “The fellas and I wanted to know where you wanted that put up—the bunkhouse mantel along with everyone else's, including your father's—or in the ranch house.”

He bent his head and kissed her full on the mouth. “Doesn't matter,” he murmured, holding her still as he kissed her even more thoroughly this time.

Forcing herself to ignore the excitement racing along her limbs, Jacey regarded him with mock censure. “It should matter,” she said. It should matter a lot. He should want to be as much a part of the Lost Mountain Ranch family gatherings as she did.

His eyes darkening with an emotion she couldn't identify, he released his hold on her. “It doesn't,” he stated mildly. “Sorry.”

Knees trembling, she slid off his lap and took a deep, bracing breath. “I'm not giving up on winning our bet.”

He traced the line of his jaw with the flat of his hand. “Useful information to know,” he drawled. “I'm still not going to let you win.”

Jacey wished she could kiss some sense into him. “I don't expect you to cry uncle.” She mocked his deadpan tone.

“Good.” He rocked back in his chair and propped his booted feet on the edge of the desk. “'Cause I'm not going to.”

“I've got to get back.”

He stayed where he was. When she was halfway out the door, he called after her, “Make sure they all know I'm as ornery and uncooperative as ever.”

Jacey rolled her eyes and headed for the bunkhouse.

The fellas were waiting for the verdict.

“Well?” they wanted to know.

Jacey hoped it didn't look as if she had just been kissed. “He said it would be fine if I want to put it on the mantel here.”

Mouths dropped open, agape.

“Or the mantel in the ranch house,” Jacey quipped as they all began to chuckle. “Or anywhere. He didn't really care.”

“That sounds like him,” Gabby remarked.

“Yes, I know.” Jacey sighed, not sure why she felt so disappointed—given the likelihood of success—but she was. Despite her best efforts…“Rafferty and Ebenezer Scrooge have a lot in common.”

 

“Y
OU SHOULDN'T TAKE
my son's lack of holiday spirit personally,” Eli told Jacey as he walked her and Caitlin back to the ranch house. “Rafferty's been this way for years. It started when he was in college, or maybe a little earlier, I can't recall. I just remember every year he got a little less into the spirit of things, and it really used to annoy my wife.”

This was news, Jacey thought. She had wrongly assumed it was because he'd lost his wife and unborn baby around the holidays, two years prior. Apparently, his alienation was more deep-seated.

Jacey sheltered her daughter from the brisk December wind. “It didn't bother you?” she asked his dad.

Eli shrugged in the way men did when they didn't want to admit to a particular emotion. “I was just happy to have him around. My wife and I waited such a long time to be blessed with a child, and we only ever had the one…So I figured every moment I had with Rafferty was a moment to count my blessings, and I didn't spend a lot of time worrying about things that in the great scheme of things didn't matter one whit. So Rafferty didn't want to decorate our tree or pick the menu for the holiday dinner. So what? He was here and helped take care of his mom when she was sick. When arthritis forced me to slow down, he stepped up and took over the ranch. And let me tell you, he's done a fine job there, too. He's a good son. And a good man. And one day he'll make someone a fine husband and a fine father.”

Jacey chuckled. “If I didn't know better, I would think you were matchmaking.”