Heartbreak Ranch (6 page)

“You may have to carry me,” she muttered, barely restraining a limp. “I think you broke my foot.”

“Don't see how, since you had it stuck in your mouth. Can't you even chat with the neighbors without causing a ruckus?”

She stopped dead in her tracks and glared at him indignantly. He had to stop as well or risk seeming to drag her in his tracks. “You have no idea what that woman said to me.”

“I caught the gist of it. Can't say it surprised me any. I seem to recall some bad blood between the two of you. Something about pushing her daughter outside the school naked?”

She smirked. “My involvement was never proved, and
anyway, it wasn't outside. Somehow Marianne managed to find herself locked out of the girls' changing room and in the gym, wearing only a skimpy towel. I believe boys' soccer practice was going on at the time. And you could be right. Eleanor and Marianne both had the most unjustified suspicions about my part in that unfortunate incident.”

His lips twitched. “My point exactly. So Eleanor can be forgiven a little sour grapes, can't she? Especially since she's stuck wearing that dress all night. Makes her look like one of those stuffed artichokes they're serving.”

Julianne's laugh gurgled out of her. She set her plate on a nearby table and tucked her free hand through his arm. Tipping her head up at him, she said, “You know, I'd forgotten how much I like you sometimes, Jed.”

He raised his brow, and together they walked toward the front table. “Lord, help me.”

“Oh, I don't think divine intervention is called for. At least not yet.”

T
here were plenty of occasions throughout the rest of the evening, Jed reflected later, when a little divine intervention would have come in handy. For instance, there was the seating arrangement at dinner. What hand of fate had placed Julianne next to Percy Cunningham, the temperamental Montana senator? The man didn't even seem to like people, women in particular. He was present only to make a token effort at listening to the association's concerns about the current costs of using government land for grazing.

When Jed had tried to circumspectly change seats with her, Julianne had fixed him with a challenging look and said in a ringing voice, “Now, Jed, you just sit in your own chair. Senator Cunningham and I will get along just fine. Isn't that right, Percy?”

Predicting disaster, Jed had barely tasted the excellent fillet, and he found it difficult to concentrate on the conversation of the man seated at his other side. When he was
introduced and walked up to the podium with the short speech he'd prepared, he snuck a look at Julianne and barely stifled a groan. She was leaning toward the senator, those brown eyes wide and sincere. Damned if her eyelashes weren't fluttering. Although he couldn't see the senator's response, his gut churned with uneasiness. He barely had a memory of what he said when he addressed the group; he was too worried about how much damage Julianne was doing with Percy Cunningham.

When the band started up, he leaned over and grasped Julianne's hand tightly. “C'mon.”

Her fingers twisted in his as she tried to free herself. “Is this your charming way of asking me to dance?”

It wasn't exactly what he had in mind, but it was an excuse to get her away from Cunningham, so he agreed. “Yeah, sure.”

She rose, and he stood, as well. She smiled sweetly up at him. “Well, then, I'm sorry. You'll have to wait. I've already promised the first dance to the senator.” And Jed watched, poleaxed, while Cunningham, with an almost painful-looking stretching of lips that passed for a smile, rose and took Julianne's hand and led her to the dance floor.

Jed wandered to the bar set up in the corner of the room and leaned against it. “Scotch,” he ordered when the bartender looked at him quizzically. “Neat.” He turned to give himself a better view of the dance floor, but Julianne and the senator had been swallowed up by a mass of couples and he could only catch occasional glimpses.

He picked up the glass the bartender slid in front of him and absently dug in his pocket for a bill to give the man. Taking a long swallow of Scotch, he waited for the fiery explosion in the pit of his stomach. Maybe the liquor would cure the nerves that had started jumping the instant
he'd realized who Julianne was seated by. But he figured the best cure for that was getting the unpredictable little witch away from the man, before the senator was arrested for murder. Cunningham wasn't known for being long on patience. And Jed had the experience to know that Julianne could try the patience of a saint.

“I'll have what he's having.”

Jed shot a glance at the brunette in a very off-the-shoulder red dress, and straightened slowly. She took the glass from the bartender and brought it to her lips, her eyes meeting Jed's over the edge of the glass.

“Do you like Scotch?” he asked as she sipped daintily.

“It's not my normal drink,” she answered. “But I try to leave myself open for…new experiences.” Her direct look made no secret of her interest, and when her gaze dropped to his left hand her smile took on a slightly predatory look. “I'm going to let myself fantasize that you're not married.”

Jed settled against the bar and returned her smile. Aggressive women didn't usually interest him; he preferred to do his own hunting. Right now, though, he welcomed the distraction. “Nope.”

A few more people edged up to the bar, and the brunette moved closer to him. Jed could smell the slightly musky aroma of her perfume as she circled the rim of her glass with one damp fingertip. It was nothing like the gut-knotting scent Julianne wore. It trailed in her wake like a sexy signature. He could actually enter a room and be instantly aware of her presence, just by the faint fragrance in the air. Unconsciously, he frowned into his glass. It seemed everything about Julianne was designed to get a response. He counted himself lucky that the predominant one she stirred in him was an overpowering urge to throttle her.

She cocked her head. “And the blonde you're with tonight? Are the two of you seriously…involved?”

Her question had the unfortunate timing of coming just after he'd taken another swallow of Scotch. This time he choked on the liquor, and its burning path threatened to take a wrong turn. Coughing and sputtering, he attempted to bring calm to his system. The havoc in his brain was another matter.

The brunette was eying him quizzically. “You're going to have to clarify that answer, I'm afraid.”

Jed shook his head a little to clear it. “We're not involved at all. She's my…she's just…”

“His psychiatrist,” a voice put in smoothly. Jed's head jerked around as Julianne tucked her hand in his arm. She surveyed the other woman gravely. “You see, Jed here has a teensy little problem I've been working with him on.”

“Julianne,” he warned. He may as well have saved his breath. She was on a roll.

She patted his arm. “How many times do I have to reassure you, ‘catlaphobia' is nothing to be ashamed of?” She shook her head and lowered her voice to the brunette confidingly. “Men. They hate to admit to a weakness.”

The other woman forced a smile. Her attention was focused on Julianne now; Jed may as well have not been there at all. “Cat…laphobia?”

“Fear of cattle,” Julianne fabricated. “It makes roundup a real nightmare.”

The brunette sent a speculative glance toward Jed. “I'll bet.”

“He's had some success with positive mental visualization, however.” Julianne beamed at Jed, a proud doctor-to-patient smile. “He just pictures all the cows naked.”

Setting his glass on the bar with a restrained clink, he
grasped Julianne's arm in his hand. “Excuse us,” he muttered, and pushed Julianne toward the dance floor. “Not for the first time, I'm regretting your lack of discipline as a child.” He wondered wistfully if it was too late to rectify that void in her upbringing.

“I didn't need much discipline as a child,” she answered brightly, linking her arms around his neck and swaying to the music. “I was exceedingly well behaved.”

“Only when you slept.”

“No need to get nasty. I was just rescuing you from that woman's clutches.”

He sent a considering glance to the brunette. She'd already attached herself to another man, who looked slightly dazed at his good fortune. “Maybe I liked being in her clutches.”

“She'd only have used you for mindless sex,” Julianne predicted.

He closed his eyes and wondered if a minor miracle would be too much to pray for. Apparently so. Julianne was still there when his eyes reopened.

“There are worse ways to go.”

She cocked her head. “I thought about telling her you had a social disease, but she looked too determined to let a minor detail like that put her off.”

His temples began to throb, a sure indication that he'd spent too much time in her company. “I just hope that's the least of the trouble you've caused tonight. Just tell me that Senator Cunningham isn't threatening to have my state citizenship revoked, and I'll get started on a little damage control.” The music changed to a slow, haunting ballad, and he automatically adjusted his steps to hers.

“Oh, ye of little faith,” she scoffed. “I'll have you know that Senator Cunningham is giving serious consid
eration to sponsoring a bill to revise the schedule of charges for grazing on public lands.”

He couldn't help it. He stopped and stared at her. “No way. We've been asking him for that for two years and haven't gotten anything more than a growl from him. What the hell did you say to him?”

With a gentle nudge, she reminded his feet to start moving again. “Oh, this and that. You know, he really is quite sweet if you take the time to get to know him. I think he's just shy.”

He gaped at her, incredulous. Sweet. Percy Cunningham. He gave his head a shake to clear it. Julianne would probably refer to a snarling mountain lion as a nice kitty. An unwilling grin pulled at the corner of his mouth.

“I know I'm going to hate myself for asking, but just how did you manage that?”

Her head tilted up and her eyes met his, a self-satisfied smile on her face. “By taking the time to find out what's important to him.”

His lack of comprehension must have shown on his face, because she went on to explain. “Your problem, Jed, is you've never learned the art of social conversation. Your communication skills are limited to receiving or giving only the information necessary to get from point
A
to point
B
.”

He didn't pretend not to take offense. “What else is there?”

“Concern, interest. Did you know that Senator Cunningham was worried about maintaining multiple use on public lands and feared that overgrazing would limit accessibility for recreational purposes?”

His brows drew together. “The association has long worked to increase technical assistance to the ranchers about responsible conservation practices. We know darn
well that our efforts at improving the land will actually benefit all users, regardless of their purpose.”

“Sounds like you're both on the same page, then. Have you actually sat down and explained that to him?”

His jaw snapped shut.

“I thought not. Try listening to his concerns before you expect him to listen to yours. Did you know that his daughter, Celia, was Montana's champion woman's equestrian for two consecutive years in the early eighties?”

He started to shrug, then stopped and looked down at her. “What's that have to do with anything?”

She smiled easily. “Nothing, I just thought it was interesting. Although, come to think of it, with his daughter's interest in horses, the senator just might be intrigued by the breeding operation you're planning at the ranch. You could mention it to him. Just as an icebreaker.” She regarded him gravely. “Your lack of conversational skills don't come as a complete surprise, you know.”

“Do tell.”

“It's a scientifically proven fact that women invented communication. If it wasn't for us, men would still be pointing and grunting.” She patted his cheek. “Be a good student and remember, most people ease into conversation with some civil pleasantries. They don't immediately go for the kill. You might give polite chitchat a try.”

“Somehow I think a flirting woman might have more of an edge in that department.”

It was her turn to be offended. “I do not flirt!”

Lightning should have struck her where she stood. “With those eyes, baby, you're the world's champ.”

“I'm almost sorry I helped you.” Her mouth moved suspiciously close to a pout. “It'd serve you right if I didn't tell you that he asked to be invited to your next
Cattlemen's Association meeting. He said something about seeking the group's input.”

“That's what we've been trying to give him for almost three years.” He watched as her eyes slid shut and she hummed under her breath to the music. Regardless of the bizarre way it had happened, he wasn't about to look a gift senator in the mouth. Or something to that effect. The band switched to another slow song, and he tucked Julianne's hand more snugly at his shoulder. Feeling undeniably more cheerful, he said, “Maybe bringing you along won't turn out to be the catastrophe I feared.”

She opened her eyes, and arched a brow. “Keep talking all mushy to me and I'm liable to melt right here at your feet.”

He twirled her around a corner and grinned at her pleased smile.

“You've got some mighty unexpected moves, cowboy.”

“You haven't seen the half of them.”

“Where'd you learn to dance?” she asked curiously.

“Maybe it's natural.”

“Or maybe you spent your teen years practicing with the posts when we thought you were riding fence.”

He regarded her gravely. “You still have a smart mouth, Julianne. That's a mighty unattractive quality in a woman.”

As usual, his barb was ignored. “You're just mad because I guessed your secret. Don't worry. You wouldn't be the first boy to practice his…social graces…on inanimate objects.”

He squeezed her hand more tightly and did a complex little series of steps guaranteed to impress. She kept up with him effortlessly. “All right, Annie taught me. Are you satisfied?”

Her laugh gurgled out of her. “Annie? When?”

“When I was fourteen and lacking many of those…social graces…you mentioned. She'd banish you from the kitchen, and once we were sure you were in your room or out of the house, she'd close the door and start the music.”

“She said she was helping you with your Spanish,” Julianne recalled.

“
Bailar,
” he said solemnly. “To dance. You were a snoop even then. I lived in constant fear you'd come in and discover us, and make my life a living hell.”

She laughed again. “I could have used the ammunition.”

“You've always done pretty well on your own.”

The music ended, and the band members drifted away on break. Julianne turned her head, and for an instant, her hair brushed against Jed's face. It smelled of springtime and flowers. Deliberately, he dropped his arms and stepped away.

“There's the senator,” she murmured, turning back to face him. “It looks like he's getting ready to leave.”

His gaze followed the direction of hers. “I think I'll go talk to him before he does.”

“Wise choice, Sullivan.” As he moved away, he heard her voice trailing after him, filled with amusement. “And don't forget the chitchat.”