More Than a Rancher Read online

  Jenna was stunned. This was not what she’d expected.

  “But it’s hard for John,” Barbara went on. “His family is practical. Traditional. Settled in their ways. It’s difficult for him to see his boys wanting something different than what he’s offered them—what he’s worked so hard to provide them.”

  “I can understand how that might be. I’m not a parent, so I don’t know what it’s like to have your kids grow up and become their own people. I imagine it’s a challenge.” Jenna thought about her own parents from that angle all of a sudden. What was it like for two such conservative people to have a daughter who only wanted to dance?

  “It’s the best and the hardest thing you’ll ever do.” Barbara smiled faintly. “I don’t think a minute goes by when I’m not worrying about one of my boys or another. And when Sandro left so young...” Jenna could see the emotion in the older woman’s face before she turned away.

  “I bet it was frightening,” she said softly, hoping she wasn’t being too intrusive.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever really gotten over it.” Barbara opened up the refrigerator and rummaged inside, then emerged with a head of lettuce. “Now, enough of this. Whatever the reason you’re here, you are our guest and a friend to my sons. So enjoy yourself, Jenna. You are welcome here.”

  * * *

  JENNA MIGHT HAVE been laden with saddlebags, but she felt lighter after talking with Sandro’s mother. She staggered down the steps from the porch and along the gravel drive to the barn, hoping she wouldn’t drop something or tip over from the weight she was carrying.

  “Jenna, hang on!” Sandro ran up beside her. “You’re crazy, carrying all that. Let me help!” He tried to take the bags, but when his hand groped for the bottom of the pile, he grabbed her hand instead. She jerked her arm back, not wanting to feel his strength. It would only make her want things she couldn’t have. The bags fell to the ground and they both dove after them, hitting heads.

  “Oof!” Jenna rolled off the saddlebags and landed roughly on her side in the dirt. “Ouch! Sandro!”

  “My head!” The muffled complaint came from somewhere under the pile of saddlebags. And then the laughter started. “What is it with you, Jenna Stevens? Why are you so graceful with everyone but me?”

  And then she was laughing, too, still lying on her side with her cheek in the gravel. “You’re my curse, Sandro Salazar. You’ve cursed me with clumsiness from the moment we met. Terrible things happen to me when you are nearby!”

  She sat up slowly, gingerly, taking inventory. Looking up, she saw he was pushing off saddlebags and doing the same. Dry grass clung to his T-shirt and there was a smear of mud, or something worse, down his face. His mouth was open in laughter and his eyes were surrounded in smile lines and then they both said, “It’s a sign!” at the exact same moment and Jenna laughed so hard she cried.

  Eventually laughter subsided to giggles, though every time she looked at Sandro and saw his filthy face and wide grin, the laughter started again. Finally they were done and quiet, lying side by side in the gravel next to the tangled heap of saddlebags with the most brilliant blue sky glowing overhead. Jenna realized that despite her pounding forehead and filthy clothes, she was happy just lying in the sun next to Sandro. His hand found hers and held on and this time she didn’t pull away. It felt too good.

  “Maybe we can agree that not everything is a sign?” he asked softly.

  “Maybe.” Jenna smiled.

  “Or maybe we can agree that we get to pick and choose which life events count as signs. For example, can the way your hand feels in mine right now be counted as a sign? Because if it is, I’m pretty sure I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.”

  “I guess we could consider that a sign,” Jenna conceded. She tried to keep her voice casual but his words felt warmer inside of her than the sunshine did on her skin.

  Sandro leaned on his elbow so he was looking down at her, his handsome features framed against the bright sky. He lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her softly, so gently it was a feather’s touch, but enough to have Jenna’s breath catch. “That feeling between us. Is that a sign?”

  “I’m not sure,” she whispered. That feeling was making her tremble.

  “Let’s try to make you sure.” He brought an arm over so he was lying half across her, his hands on either side of her head supporting him while his mouth came down on hers—the gentleness gone.

  There was power behind his kiss. His lips opened hers and his tongue lanced into her mouth, exploring, taking, and he wound his fingers in her hair, kissing her even more deeply. All discomfort was gone, from the bump on her head to the gravel poking into her back. Instead there was only Sandro and that feeling he’d voiced before—that she was exactly where she was supposed to be.

  “That’s definitely a sign,” she whispered against his lips, and knocked his hat off as she reached up behind his neck to bring him down for another bone-melting kiss.

  “Is this some kind of San Francisco thing?” Sandro froze and Jenna ended the kiss abruptly, looking up to find Joe looming over them, a huge grin on his face. “Because if it is, I’m gonna have to visit there more often.”

  “It’s gonna take more than just visiting to talk a beautiful woman into kissing you like this, Joe,” Sandro shot back.

  “Gentlemen, keep me out of your virility contest,” Jenna admonished, ducking from under Sandro’s arms and pushing herself to her feet, dusting herself off. “Come on, cowboy,” she said to Sandro. “I think Joe’s presence here is a sign that this isn’t really the right time or place to study up on any more signs.”

  Sandro laughed. “Later,” he promised, and the look he gave her held so much desire that Jenna felt it all over her body. She should not be doing this with him. But she was right back where she’d been that night in San Francisco, telling herself lies about how she was fine just living in the moment.

  “Saddle up, lovebirds. And promise me you didn’t destroy all of Ma’s sandwiches.”

  “That I can’t guarantee.” Sandro picked up the saddlebags and held out his other hand to Jenna. With his straw cowboy hat tipped back on his head, saddlebags flung over his shoulder, brown eyes laughing, he was in his element and he was beautiful.

  For a moment Jenna had a hard time connecting him with the haunted man who had confessed to such a troubled history in a San Francisco bar—the dark and dangerous man who had held her against an iron gate on a shadowy city street while he ran his hands over her body. And she realized that Sandro had two sides, two ways of being, that he was trying so hard to reconcile into one whole man.

  * * *

  IT WAS INCREDIBLE to ride again, though Jenna wasn’t used to a Western saddle. She’d been trained in the English style—jumping, dressage and posting to the trot—during the hundreds of hours she’d spent at the stable as a girl. The loose reins and long stirrups took some getting used to, but Sandro had put her on a dainty, responsive quarter horse mare with the unfortunate name of Peanut who was patient with her mistakes. And soon she had the hang of it because Peanut made it easy, responding to the slight pressure of Jenna’s calves against her side or the weight of a rein laid gently against her neck.

  “Jack Baron trained her,” Sandro told her when she commented on Peanut’s easy handling.

  “He’s got talent. No wonder Samantha fell for him.”

  “I’m not sure that was the exact talent that got her attention,” Sandro scoffed, and Jenna grinned.

  “Did you just make a dirty joke, Sandro Salazar? Does this mean we’re truly friends?”

  “That joke was not dirty.” His smile was wide, confident and sizzling. “And I think we both know we’re a lot more than friends.” Just then Paul beckoned to him to ride ahead. Sandro raised his hand in acknowledgment and turned back to Jenna. “Oh, and when I talk dirty to you? You won’t have t
o ask about it. You will know exactly what’s happening.” And with that he nudged the big gray gelding he was riding into a gallop and was gone, leaving Jenna about a hundred degrees warmer and lost in contemplating the meaning behind his words.

  She was deep in a very pleasant reverie when Sandro’s father rode up next to her. “You know what you’re doing, don’t you?

  At first she thought he was giving her some kind of warning about his son and her heart thudded. But following his glance at the way she held the reins, she realized he was actually talking about her horsemanship.

  “Oh, well, yes. I think so. I rode a lot when I was younger. I mean, not Western, though,” she sputtered on, flustered. Way to make a good impression. But when she looked up at him, she saw the grudging respect in his eyes and realized that her horsemanship could be the thing that softened him.

  “I’ve missed riding—I love it,” she told him. “And I love being out here. You have such a lovely ranch.”

  “Thanks,” he said gruffly. “It’s been in our family since this area was first settled.”

  “Have you always raised sheep?”

  “We’re Basque. Our ancestors raised sheep in their country, on the border of Spain and France, and they brought their traditions here.”

  “It must be amazing to be a part of something with that kind of history.” Jenna didn’t know if she was about to make a mistake but she decided to say what was on her mind. “I can understand how hard it would be to see a couple of your kids move away from that heritage.”

  Mr. Salazar looked up the trail to where his four sons were riding together, laughing uproariously at something Gabe had said.

  “Last night I sat outside after dinner. And I was thinking that maybe that’s why my ancestors came to America in the first place. So that their great-great-grandchildren would have the freedom to do something different if they wanted. So they’d have the choice.”

  “Maybe one choice doesn’t always exclude another,” Jenna reminded him. “Sandro might want a restaurant, but he’s told me how much he likes working with you on the ranch again.”

  Mr. Salazar looked surprised. “You’re a smart lady, Jenna. I can see why both my sons are so taken with you.”

  Was he possibly relaxing his stance about Paul’s dancing? “Thank you, Mr. Salazar. I appreciate you saying that.”

  “So are your parents happy that you’re a dancer?”

  Jenna hesitated, then decided on honesty. “No, not at all. They’d much rather I was a doctor or a lawyer.”

  He nodded. “I guess I understand their concern.” He was silent for a few moments, clearly deep in thought, considering his words carefully, and Jenna had a moment of panic that she’d said the wrong thing, blown this conversation, and Paul would never forgive her.

  She tried to remain centered and not worry about what Mr. Salazar thought of her. But it was hard because she was falling in love with his eldest son and she wanted his family to like her.

  Falling in love? The three words made her dizzy and she clutched at the saddle horn. She was not in love. That was impossible. Yes, she had a huge crush on Sandro. A perfectly safe crush since there was no way they could be together. So she couldn’t be falling for him....

  “Are you happy with your choice, Jenna? Really happy?”

  It was hard to focus on Mr. Salazar’s questions when those three words, falling in love, were ping-ponging around her brain. “Yes, I’ve been very happy. It’s exciting, I do what I love and I am always learning new things.”

  “And if you get hurt and can’t dance anymore?”

  “I’ll do something else. So many people switch careers nowadays, Mr. Salazar. They predict that most of us will have at least two or three careers in our lifetimes. And I also love teaching dance. If I get hurt, I could just do more of it.”

  “And you honestly think Paul’s got talent?” Mr. Salazar watched her carefully.

  “It’s what brought me out here this weekend. He has more natural talent than anyone I’ve ever met. I think he’ll be incredibly successful.”

  The older man just nodded and stared at the trail ahead. Jenna left him alone with his thoughts, hoping he would come to the right decision.

  They were heading uphill now and the trail followed a creek that washed over stones and tumbled over boulders and logs. Nature’s garden, Jenna thought, amazed by the accidental beauty of it all. The whole day was taking on an unreal quality. The conversations she’d had with Barbara in the kitchen and Mr. Salazar just now. Sandro’s sweet and seductive words and kisses. He genuinely seemed to care for her....

  “So are you going to take us all dancing tonight?”

  If a meteor had shot out of the clear sky and landed on her head, Jenna would not have been more startled than she was by Sandro’s father’s question. “If...if you like. Is there a place to go around here?”

  “We’ve got a great dance hall in Benson. And they get a good crowd on Saturdays. It’s been years since I’ve taken my wife out dancing. Maybe it’s about time.”

  Glee shot through Jenna and she grinned at the older man. “I guess it is! And I would love to be a part of it.”

  They’d reached the meadow. Mr. Salazar rode over to where Joe, Gabe and Paul were dismounting. Sandro rode back to meet her, looking like a Western hero on the big gray horse he sat on so easily. “Everything going okay?” he asked.

  “Sure,” she said casually. “Your dad just asked me if we could go dancing tonight.” Sandro went pale and wide-eyed, his mouth partially open. Then his eyes creased, the color returned to his face and his smile grew into pure joy. He took his hat and threw it into the air with a whoop that startled both their horses.

  “Jeez, Red. I leave you alone for five minutes and you’re running around working miracles! Hell, I knew there was a reason I fell in love with you!”

  They both froze at his words. Sandro looked stricken, then horrified as embarrassment crept in. He dismounted and walked his horse over to get his hat. He clapped it back on his head and walked back to Jenna with reluctant steps. “I can’t believe I just said that,” he told her, looking up.

  “Maybe you were just a little awed by my persuasive powers,” she joked awkwardly, trying to get them both off the hook. She swung her leg over and dismounted, taking Peanut’s reins in her hand. “Or maybe you’ve got sunstroke.”

  She handed him the reins. He was staring at her as if he were seeing her for the first time. “I’ll leave you to deal with the horses,” she told him.

  “Sure.” He was still staring.

  “And I’ll go get us something to drink.” She stumbled off to where Barbara was unpacking the picnic, trying to figure out what had just happened and if there’d been any truth lurking in Sandro’s words. She wouldn’t acknowledge that her heart was dancing in celebration. It also seemed wise to ignore the part of her traitorous brain that had given voice to her own deep feelings, even before Sandro had blurted out his.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  “ARE YOU SURE you’re ready for this, Red?” Sandro helped her down from the cab of his truck. “You look amazing, by the way.”

  “Thanks!” For the occasion she’d put on a pair of vintage blue cowboy boots she’d picked up at a thrift store at some point and a cute retro top with a matching full skirt.

  “You look like Dale Evans.”

  Jenna grinned. “I am going to assume that’s a big compliment in these parts.”

  He pulled her close and kissed her firmly on the mouth. “It sure is.”

  It was the first time he’d kissed her since the dust and the saddlebags earlier that day, since he’d said something about love.... Jenna tried to decide if the kiss felt any different and realized that everything felt different. She’d thought that by avoiding Sandro after their night at Aquatic Park she’d rid herself
of any feelings for him. But clearly it was too late for that. She was falling in love with him—maybe she had been for a while.

  On their incredible night in San Francisco, as he hung laughing off the side of the cable car, she’d felt the stirrings of it. As they’d walked by the bay, as he’d touched her, the feelings were there, just eclipsed by the insane desire. But his kindness on the gym roof as she cried last night, and his goofy laughter and teasing when they’d fallen into the dust today, had solidified those feelings.

  She should have been scared. If she had an ounce of sense, she’d get in her car tonight, drive back home and end this dead-end thing between them. But the oddest thing was, when she was with Sandro, she wasn’t scared. She was happy and excited. Joyful, even. It was only when she was alone that she remembered she was going to lose him. And that hurt.

  It was kind of like life, she thought. You could live your life in total fear because you know it will end one day. You could hide in your house, paralyzed, afraid to walk out your door because you might get hit by a bus or something. But Jenna didn’t want to waste her life hiding from the inevitable and that applied to love, as well. Maybe it was better just to enjoy this time with Sandro, so when it ended, when it was over, she could say that she really, truly had loved.

  Joe, Gabe and Paul pulled up in Joe’s truck and jumped out. “Family night out!” Joe said, running a hand through his curly hair in a gesture so like Sandro’s. “Can you believe Mom and Pops are coming, too? And Paul’s gonna show us his moves.”

  “Yeah, right,” Paul said, all classic teenager around his big brothers.

  Sandro pulled the door open and they walked into a wall of sound. The loud buzz of people talking and laughing, balls on the pool tables racketing into each other, and country music blasting over it all. Sandro’s parents were already there and Mrs. Salazar waved them over to where they had saved a table near the dance floor. She looked flushed and pretty, with a silk flower clipped into her hair and a floral blouse tucked into her jeans.