More Than a Rancher Read online

  “I woke up one morning really early. It was barely light. And I was half under a Dumpster behind some dive bar. There were rats running all around me, blood on my hands from a broken bottle beneath them. I still don’t know how I got there.”

  “Sandro...” She couldn’t finish her sentence. It was a horrifying image.

  “I packed up my apartment that day. I called work and quit. And I went back to Benson to try to get my head on straight. I’ve been home almost a year now.”

  Jenna thought of her mom, drinking to hide from the pain in her life. “Did you go to rehab? Did you get help?” She glanced at his beer and noticed that the glass was still almost completely full.

  “I didn’t. Maybe I should. But you know, ever since then, I lost my interest in drinking and drugs. I have almost no cravings for any of it. But I promise you, if I start heading down that road again, my butt will be in a chair at an AA meeting immediately.”

  “So at the party last night...” she prompted.

  “A guy offered me pot. Not that it’s an excuse.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “Before I could even think rationally, I hit him. And then I ran out of there. I just wanted to get outside, to get away from everything.”

  “Everything?” She wondered if that word included her.

  He seemed to pick up on her meaning. “I had a great time with you. I really did. But the party stressed me out. I think Tess threw me off my game first. I know she’s your friend, and I don’t want to say anything that might offend you, but when she came on to me like that, it reminded me of a lot of the women I knew in New York.

  “And then there was the tarot, and I know it sounds dumb but when the cards were forecasting change, I just panicked. I’ve had so much change lately and I don’t really want more, you know? I just want everything quiet and settled.”

  “I can understand that—when your life felt so hectic for so long.”

  “I’m sorry for running out on you, Jenna.”

  “It’s okay.” She thought about the way she’d felt when she realized he was gone. “I mean, it’s not really okay, but at least I understand it better now. I appreciate you telling me all this. And I think you should cut yourself some slack. You haven’t exactly had it easy.”

  “If you’re telling me to forgive myself, I don’t want to. I don’t want to live in a world where it’s somehow okay for me to treat people the way I used to, or the way I treated you last night. These days I try to show a lot of respect for others. But I don’t always succeed. I screw up, as you’ve seen firsthand.”

  “Just promise me that next time you go on a date, you’ll tell the girl if you’re going to leave.”

  “Does that mean you’d consider going out with me again?” His jaw was still tense, but his mouth curled in a half smile.

  “You made it pretty clear this morning that you weren’t interested.”

  “I was lying.”

  “Lying is bad. Number-one dating rule you need to learn.”

  “I’ll learn it. Give me another chance, Jenna. At the very least, I owe you a great evening.”

  “I don’t know.” It was flattering that he wanted more time with her. But he’d shown her a glimpse of how much he could hurt her.

  “I kind of wish I could have seen you hitting that guy last night!” she teased, changing the subject.

  “Isn’t that kind of bloodthirsty, Red?”

  His smile was getting bigger, just as she’d hoped. “Maybe. Or maybe I just would have enjoyed seeing you get all manly. Kind of like you did with Brent at the studio the other day.”

  “You enjoyed that? But you were mad at me! You made me go to that dance competition as penance.”

  She smiled at the memory. “I don’t think you had such a terrible time. Did you?”

  “Can’t say as I did.” He was finally relaxed, and his answering grin was slow and lazy. “In fact, it was an awesome day. But you were still pretty upset when I wanted to hit Brent.”

  Something inside of her that had gone into hiding last night came awake and fluttered. She could do this with him—talk things out and come to an understanding. And smile afterward. It felt hopeful and way more grown-up than anything she’d ever had with Jeff or anyone else. “Just because it was wrong of you to bully my dance partner doesn’t mean I didn’t enjoy it a tiny bit.”

  “There’s history there with him, isn’t there?”

  Jenna sighed. Well, if he could be honest, so could she. “We dated for a couple years when we first started dancing together. And it was fun at first. Really romantic. I thought I’d found my partner, The One, artistically, romantically—you know. But eventually I realized he’s the kind of guy who’s never satisfied—always looking over your shoulder wondering if someone better might come along. And soon someone did, and he broke up with me.”

  “And now he wants you back.”

  “Well, he thinks he does. He does this every couple years. Gets lonely, thinks his life is empty and decides that if we get back together, he’ll feel satisfied.”

  “And will he?”

  Jenna’s laugh tasted bitter. “No! I did it once, you know. The first time he wanted me back, I went. The same thing happened. He got restless and started flirting with other people. We’d fight about it.... At least that time I left before he dumped me. But I think I only beat him to it by a couple of days!” It felt good to be able to laugh about it—even with dark humor.

  “So what’s going to happen with you and him?”

  “I guess I’ll talk to him—tell him to back off. He sulks, though. That’s why I couldn’t talk to him about it before the competition. I needed his head in the right place. At least if he gets upset now, it will only affect our classes.”

  “Do you think you’ll keep being partners?”

  He’d asked the one question that worried her the most. “I want us to. When he’s not being jealous, and we’re just dancing, he’s a great partner. And we do well together.”

  “Three-time national champions, right?” He raised his glass in a toast.

  It sounded so funny coming out of his mouth. “Yup. But I think we might want different things. He seems content in the ballroom, but I’m going kind of crazy there. I’ve been there for years, Sandro—since I was a student. Sometimes I love it and sometimes I feel like those pink-striped walls are just getting closer and closer. I want my own place. My own studio.”

  “Where Marlene can’t give your classes away to her niece?”

  Jenna laughed. “Something like that, yes. But I don’t know if Brent will come with me when I make the move. And I don’t want to ask until I’ve got my own place. He’s not great at keeping a secret.”

  “You’ve really thought this through.”

  “Yeah, I guess so.” She thought about it all the time. Well, most of the time. Lately she’d spent way too much time thinking about Sandro.

  “What makes you so ambitious?” He was studying her face now, making it hard to think.

  “I don’t know. Part of it is all these problems with Marlene and Nicole. I’m tired of working where everyone is trying to claw their way ahead.” She picked up her drink and took a sip, not sure if she wanted to admit the other reason. But it seemed like the theme of the night was full disclosure. “And you’re not the only one with something to prove to your family, Sandro. My family has made it loud and clear for years that they think I’m doing the wrong thing with my life.”

  “And you want to show them what you’re made of.”

  “Something like that. I’ve recently given up on making them proud or even thinking they’ll come around and be supportive. I guess I want to succeed in spite of all their disapproval.”

  “Sounds familiar.”

  Jenna looked up and saw the understanding in his ey
es.

  “What are they like?” he asked.

  How could she describe them without talking his ear off? She stuck to the basic facts. “My mom’s from a high society–type family. My dad’s done really well with a few different businesses. My sister and brother are incredibly successful in their fields. Basically, they think I’m the family idiot.”

  “Well, then they don’t see you the way I do.” Sandro stood up and came around the table, settling on the bench next to her. Jenna instantly felt the heat from his leg so close to hers. “I know what it’s like not to have anyone fighting for you,” Sandro said, taking her hand. “It sucks.”

  “That’s putting it mildly. They think my career is a joke—a hobby gone wild.”

  “Yeah. My family still gives me girly aprons for Christmas. They think it’s hilarious. My brothers threatened to change my name to Sandra growing up.”

  Jenna giggled. “You’d think they’d just appreciate the good food.”

  “They’re steak-and-potatoes folks. The stuff I cook makes no sense to them.”

  “It must be weird for them, you know. Out on a ranch in this world of sheep, trucks and cowboy hats, and here’s you with your cooking and Paul with his dancing. It’s like you two are a couple of changelings or something.”

  “Changelings?”

  “You know, the old legends? Where fairies replaced human babies with their own children? I guess that’s how they used to explain people like you and Paul, and even me. People who just don’t fit the mold.”

  “Well, I guess I should be glad we were born in modern times.” Sandro grinned down at her. “Didn’t they leave those poor kids out in the woods so the fairies would take them back?”

  “Ugh. Yes. Here’s to modern times.” She raised her glass to his.

  They sat for a minute, and Jenna watched the activity at the bar. There was a couple looking kind of awkward, probably on a first date. Next to them was a man Jenna had seen there before. He looked to be in his sixties, tall and thin. He always came alone.

  Then Sandro turned to look down at her. “There was another reason I think I left that party, Jenna.”

  “You needed another reason? Seemed like you had plenty.”

  “This, Jenna. Us. When I moved back to Benson, I promised myself that if I ever dated again, it would be someone from there. Someone simple and kind of traditional. Someone who made my life easy and safe. You’re not any of those things, Red. And it makes no sense. We don’t even live near each other. I shouldn’t want to be with you.”

  Her emotions rose and there were tears behind her eyes. “It doesn’t make any sense for me, either. Before I met you, I was dating someone who cheated on me. When I met you in Benson, Jack warned me to steer clear.”

  “He did the right thing.” His voice was harsh and low. She could hear the self-mockery in it. The self-hatred.

  “Hey,” she said quietly. “Remember the cards last night. They were all about change. You came home because you wanted to change.”

  Sandro’s eyes were black in the dim light and she could see the thick, dark lashes that framed them. His high cheekbones and olive skin made him look like some kind of Spanish prince, not a chef and a rancher’s son who’d just told her his rather sordid life story.

  But strangely enough, right now she didn’t care about his past that much. She didn’t know the Sandro he’d been in New York—she knew this man in front of her now. He was complicated and difficult and passionate, but she liked him. She liked that he was trying to do something different, to be someone better than he had been. And most of all she liked the way she felt around him. Alive and present—totally in the moment. There was a newfound freedom in the certain knowledge that there could be nothing for them after his teaching job in San Francisco was over.

  Jenna put her fingers up and ran them lightly down the line of his jaw, enjoying the feel of his stubble, the bone beneath. His mouth was wide and she traced the edge of his lower lip. A small, almost shy smile pulled the corners up.

  Sandro took a lock of her hair in his long fingers and wound it around. “It’s the most incredible color. Like I’m holding on to a piece of the sunset.” He leaned in and her eyes closed. She felt his smile when his mouth covered hers, when he tugged and pulled at her lower lip, and when his tongue entered her mouth. She slid her hand farther up his jaw and into his hair and pulled him closer, letting herself forget how last night had ended. She wanted to just feel him there, underneath her hands, over her mouth. The bar noise around them faded and vanished so there was only this moment, with the dark taste of him filling her senses.

  “Is that any way to behave, Wee Jenna?” Mack’s words from across the bar had the other customers laughing and Jenna felt her face heat and her smile end the kiss.

  Sandro pulled his mouth away, but kept his gaze on her. Jenna could see the laughter that crinkled the corners of his eyes, putting a warmth there that she wanted to see again. “How about we go for a walk?” he asked.

  “Sure,” Jenna whispered, barely able to take her eyes off of him as she reached behind her for her coat and purse. Sandro stood and held out his hand, pulling her to her feet, his focus on her so intense that it felt like a weight, anchoring her to the ground when otherwise she might have just floated, she was so lost in wanting him.

  “Let me help.” He took her coat and held it out and she somehow got herself into it. He pushed open the door to the street and cold fog poured in, prickling her skin awake and alive. A strange excitement hummed in her veins.

  She waved goodbye to Mack, who gave her the thumbs-up. Then they were on the sidewalk and Sandro’s arm wrapped around her. She snuggled in and walked with her face pressed against the tough hide of his jacket. He smelled like some combination of leather, spices and fresh air. She closed her eyes for a moment and breathed it all in.

  There were few people around even though it was only nine o’clock. “Where do you want to go, Red?”

  She could feel his breath warming her scalp through her hair. And she knew where she wanted to take him. “My future dance studio. The building I want to rent. It’s only a few blocks away.”

  “You want a dance studio in this neighborhood?”

  “It’s in Lower Nob Hill. Well, the lower part of Lower Nob Hill. Still, it is a bit more upscale over that way.” She guided him downhill from busy Van Ness Avenue. Sandro was right—this was an especially troubled part of the city and they had to pick their way around a few people huddled under blankets on the sidewalk. Jenna would never get used to seeing them lying there like that.

  After a left turn on Hyde Street and a right on Sutter, there was a slightly less grim feel to the neighborhood. And there was her dream. Darkened and abandoned, the old Italian cultural center housed the ballroom that she hoped no one else would discover.

  She pointed up to the second floor. “See those windows? They run floor to ceiling. The light that comes in is incredible. The dance floor needs refinishing, the whole thing needs a good cleaning and a coat of paint on the walls, but that’s all. There are crystal chandeliers, ceilings painted like a sky full of tubby cherubs and dressing rooms—it’s perfect.”

  Sandro peered through the metal gate to the old glass doors and the dark lobby beyond. “Have you had it all checked out by an engineer? Is it sound?”

  Jenna sighed. “Don’t ruin my dreams! No, of course not. I managed to find a Realtor who let me in, but it’s not even clear yet if the owners will lease it to me. But I mean to talk them into it.”

  He laughed. “Red, if anyone can talk them into it, it will be you—of that I have no doubt. I know firsthand how persuasive you are. When I woke up this morning, I was sure that Paul and I would be back in Benson tonight.”

  Jenna stopped. Paul. She’d forgotten him, she’d been so wrapped up in Sandro’s story, in the newfound intimacy between
them. “What’s going to happen, Sandro? Can he keep taking classes?”

  Sandro turned to face her, leaning against the gate that blocked the entrance to the building. “I’m worried, Jenna. He’s only fifteen, so that’s three years of taking crap from people about his dancing before he’s free. What if he ends up making the kind of choices I did?”

  Jenna wanted to pull him close, offer comfort, but everything between them was so new. She could offer words. Ideas. “Sandro, you had no one to support you when you were young, to guide you and help you discount your family’s ridicule. Paul has you to stand up for him and to give him perspective. He has me and the kids in his dance class.”

  “But the stakes are higher now. It seems like there are so many drugs available even to kids. You read about it in the paper every day. And he’s going into a profession where the women so obviously outnumber the men. How is he going to learn to respect women if they’re a dime a dozen? Especially if he already feels as rejected and pissed off as I did?” The angst and worry in his voice were palpable.

  “I think you should slow down. Take one worry at a time. First of all, dancers might do dumb stuff, just like anyone does, but drugs isn’t generally one of them. It’s impossible to dance that way and we’re all about the dancing.” She saw a faint smile tilt up the corners of his mouth. “I get that you’re scared. You’re an amazing big brother to look out for Paul the way you do. But what about also having faith in him? He’s a good kid. He looks up to you, Sandro, and he listens to you. I don’t think he’s going to lose perspective or start disrespecting people.”

  “Like I did.” His bitterness was heavy in the night air between them.

  “You were so alone,” Jenna said. She went to him, stepped into his arms and sighed when he pulled her close. With her head on his chest, she relished his strength around her.

  He buried his face in her hair and his voice was muffled. “You are so wise, Jenna. How did that happen? You seem like you’ve been on your own, too, without your family, but instead of rebelling and acting the fool like I did, you just became grounded and smart.”