Can’t get enough cowboys?

Popular Mills & Boon® Blaze® author Debbi Rawlins takes readers on a great ride with her new miniseries

MADE IN MONTANA

The little town of Blackfoot Falls hasn’t seen this much action since… well, ever.

Stay up till dawn with

Barefoot Blue Jean Night

(October 2012)

Own the Night

(December 2012)

On a Snowy Christmas Night

(January 2013)

And remember, the sexiest cowboys

are Made in Montana!

About the Author

DEBBI RAWLINS lives in central Utah, out in the country, surrounded by woods and deer and wild turkeys. It’s quite a change for a city girl who didn’t even know where the state of Utah was until a few years ago. Of course, unfamiliarity has never stopped her. Between her junior and senior years of college, she spontaneously left her home in Hawaii and bummed around Europe for five weeks by herself. And much to her parents’ delight, returned home with only a quarter in her wallet.

On a Snowy Christmas Night

Debbi Rawlins

www.millsandboon.co.uk

1

THE BRISK DECEMBER air smelled like snow. None was forecasted for the next few days, but when it started getting dark this time of year, the Montana temperature invariably dropped.

Jesse McAllister pulled up the collar of his leather bomber jacket, hunched his shoulders against the cold and finished fueling his truck. This week he was using Leo’s gas station, which was situated at the edge of town. Next time he’d fill up at Earl’s, Blackfoot Falls’s only other station, five blocks north on the other end of Main Street. Jesse had gone to school with both men’s sons so he was careful to spread the business.

The multicolored Christmas lights twisting around the flagpole and arching over the tiny town square blinked on just as Jesse climbed behind the wheel. He smiled when the giant elm tree lit up and knew that it was Miriam Lemmon who’d flipped the switch. Tomorrow evening it would be Mabel’s turn. The elderly twins had been in charge of seasonal decorations since before Jesse was born.

The familiarity should have been comforting. But in the year and a half since he’d returned home, there’d been no solace. His family’s fourth-generation ranch was struggling. It didn’t matter that the poor economy was affecting everyone. Hell, he’d crossed an ocean to fight for his country, learned how to fly everything from large planes to small helicopters, and yet there wasn’t a damn thing he could do to pull the ranch out of the red.

He’d been eager to come home after his air-force duty, but since then it seemed he’d been nothing but dead weight. Sucking in oxygen yet contributing nothing.

Winter made everything worse. During the spring and summer months, with the calving and roundups and irrigation constantly going haywire, there didn’t seem to be enough hours in the day. But since the final cut of hay, work was sparse and they had a bunkhouse full of hands who needed steady paychecks. Like Cole and Trace, Jesse still pitched in, made himself useful the best way he knew how. But his brothers, they belonged here, not him.

Not feeling like heading back to the Sundance just yet, he decided to cruise down Main Street to see if Noah was in his office. Even three blocks away, Jesse could see the sheriff’s truck parked at the curb. That didn’t necessarily mean anything. Noah could’ve walked home or over to Marge’s diner for supper.

Jesse drove past the Cut and Curl, where his mother always got her hair done, past the hardware store, Ernie’s barber shop and the fabric store. He slowed to a crawl when he got to the second residential side street and peered at the third house down. No lights on, so Noah wasn’t home. The county provided the small two-bedroom house for him as part of the sheriff’s compensation. But mostly he spent his free time out at the Sundance, just as he had when they were teenagers.

Noah had always been part of the family, and sometimes it was easier for Jesse to talk to him rather than Cole. Even though Jesse was only a year younger, his brother had been the one to fill their father’s shoes when he’d died of cancer while Jesse was still in college. It was a McAllister tradition—the reins were handed to the oldest son… as they should be.

Jesse drove past the Watering Hole, where the usual Friday-evening crowd hung out after they’d cashed their checks. Then he saw Noah through the open blinds of the sheriff’s office. Roy, one of the deputies, was on his way out the door, so Jesse parked his truck at the curb.

By the time he went inside, Noah was standing at the window, looking out and frowning. “Where’s your Jeep?”

“Traded it in.” Jesse went straight to the half-filled coffeepot. The brew was dark, which meant Noah had made it. Reminded Jesse of some of the joe he’d stomached in Afghanistan. So strong you could use it for diesel. “This stuff fresh?”

Noah nodded. “Why did you do that? You loved that Jeep.”

Jesse hunted in the upper oak cabinet for a clean mug, found one and sniffed it for good measure. “It wasn’t practical.”

“Yeah, because you guys don’t have enough pickups at the Sundance.”

Jesse shrugged. “I got a good deal on the Dodge,” he said. “It’s secondhand but has only forty-two thousand miles.”

Noah eyed him thoughtfully, likely wondering what had brought on Jesse’s change of heart. He’d wanted a Jeep since before he’d learned to drive. The first thing he’d done after returning from Afghanistan was find a dealership and drive the latest model off the lot. It wasn’t until later, when he’d seen the disrepair of the ranch, that he’d realized what a selfish bastard he’d been.

But that probably wasn’t the only thing Noah was wondering about. Jesse wasn’t himself and everyone, including Noah, thought the war had changed him. Jesse knew the war had nothing to do with his restlessness.

Sure, he’d seen things no human being should have to witness. War was never pretty. And yeah, even though he’d been a tanker pilot and not one of the fighter jocks, he’d flown some damn hairy missions, but he hadn’t experienced anything like the men with boots on the ground. As far as deployments went, he’d had it fairly easy.

No, his problem was pretty basic. After living in Montana most of his life, being completely sure that his duty and his destiny were bound up in the Sundance, he didn’t belong here anymore. Ironic that it had about killed him to give the military all those years in exchange for teaching him how to fly. He’d even chosen a college close enough that he could come home most weekends. And now… each day his sense of belonging seemed to fade even more.

“Weren’t you supposed to fly to Billings to pick up a pair of pit bulls?” Noah finally said, while he topped up his coffee.

“The neighbor of the woman who runs the center there adopted them.”

“That was lucky.”

“Yeah, people are too biased against pit bulls. They’re good dogs as long as they’re raised right.” Jesse sipped his coffee and stared idly out the window, suddenly feeling foolish that he’d stopped by. It wasn’t as if he needed advice. He knew what he had to do. Volunteering for animal search-and-rescue had taken the edge off his discontent but it wasn’t helping his family.

“Sit down.” Noah indicated the sorry black vinyl-and-chrome chair, then sat behind his desk. “What are you doing in town, anyway?”

“I had to pick up some fencing wire and fuel the truck.”

“It’s quiet around here without Sundance guests coming and going. Rachel take any reservations for January?”

Jesse sighed. The family had agreed they’d close the dude ranch for the holidays, but his sister was a pushover. “She’s got a woman coming in next weekend.”

“A week before Christmas?” Noah frowned over the rim of his mug. “I thought she’d shut down for the month of December.”

“She’s making an exception. The woman is volunteering over at Safe Haven and was desperate for a place to stay.” Jesse shrugged. “You know Rachel. Couldn’t say no. You still going to New York to see Alana?”

Noah grinned like a ten-year-old with a new puppy. “I leave next Thursday. My sisters are coming with their families to spend Christmas with the folks.”

Jesse managed a smile. Not that he wasn’t happy for his friend. It was the holidays he was dreading. He hadn’t heard anything about the annual open house his mother usually hosted, but he knew it had to be on the calendar. Even if they did have to shell out a few bucks for the food and beer, no one would deny her the McAllister tradition.

“Which airport you flying out of?” Jesse asked.

“Billings. Anything closer was either booked or involved too many layovers.”

“Need a ride?”

Noah’s brows furrowed with curiosity. “I thought you’d be looking forward to spending the time with the family. This is what… only the second holiday you’ve been home?”

“Jesus, it’s just a ride.”

Noah leaned back, a self-deprecating smile pulling at his mouth. “Thanks, I’m taking my truck.” He took another sip, his probing eyes staying on Jesse. “How’ve you been, buddy?”

“You know…” He shrugged. “Good. I’ve been doing a lot of flying for different shelters.” Nothing new, and not what his friend was asking. Jesse let out a gushing breath. “I’m thinking about reenlisting.”

Noah’s mouth opened, and he quickly set down his mug. “You gotta be kidding. Shit,” he said when he clearly realized that Jesse was dead serious. “What do Cole and the rest of the family say about it?”

“They don’t know.” Jesse looked him square in the eye. “This stays between you and me.”

“Why reenlist?” Noah shook his head. “You hated being away from Montana.”

“I’m no good here. At least with an officer’s salary I can send home money, plus the bonus I’ll get for committing to another ten years.”

Noah frowned, looking so troubled Jesse was sorry as hell he’d opened his mouth. “You talked to someone from the air force about this already?”

“Just enough to know what’s what.”

“Big mistake, buddy. Especially if it’s just about the money. You’ll break your mother’s heart.”

Jesse stared into his cold coffee. “Yeah, well, I gotta do what’s best for everyone.”

Noah muttered a curse. “If you think tearing yourself away from the ranch and your family to make a buck is the right thing, you’ve got a hell of a lot more thinking to do.”

Wasn’t that the problem? The more thinking Jesse did, the more lost he felt.

SHEA MONROE STARED out the large plate-glass window of her San Jose office, the phone pressed to her ear as she listened to her mother complain about her new stepchildren. The older one had dared to move the silk poinsettia topiary an inch out of place. The other two… well, their existence alone was enough to make her mom complain.

Age was supposed to mellow a person, or so Shea had heard. In her mother’s case the new wrinkles, which had to be instantly treated with BOTOX, or the occasional sprout of gray hair only made her crankier. Oh, Shea loved her. Didn’t mean she wanted to listen to her rant.

“Mom?” This was the third time Shea had tried to get a word in.

“If I’d been smart, I would’ve refused to decorate for Christmas. Let Richard have his office party at the Four Seasons. He’s there half the time, anyway, entertaining one client or another—”

A designer had done all the work. For that matter, a nanny watched Richard’s children, and a housekeeper kept their minimansion spotless. Women as beautiful and clever as Leticia Kelly didn’t…

No, that wasn’t right. Shea rubbed her temple. It wasn’t Kelly anymore. Was it Griffin? Yeah, maybe Griffin. For having a high IQ, Shea sure had a lousy memory for names. But then, if her parents would stay off the marriage carousel, she might be able to hang on to a name for more than five minutes.

Finally, there was a tiny break in the monologue and Shea jumped in before she missed her chance. “I’m not coming for Christmas.”

“What?” A brief pause, and then her mother said, “Don’t think you’re going to your father’s house. You can’t. That wasn’t the deal.”

“What deal?”

“He had you for Thanksgiving. I get you for Christmas.”

“Mom, I’m twenty-seven, not twelve. You two don’t get to decide where I spend the holidays anymore.”

“But you promised.”

“Uh, no, actually, I didn’t.”

“My God, Shea, you can’t abandon me to these people.”

“You mean your family?” She smiled sadly. It would’ve been nice if her mother had said that Christmas wouldn’t be the same without her, or even that she’d be missed. “Look, I’m not going to spend the holidays with Dad, either.”

“Please don’t tell me you’re back together with that Brian idiot.”

“No.” She glanced toward her open door. It was after six. Brian would have left already, along with the new love of his life, Serena from accounting. “You know better.”

Or did she? Unlike Shea, her mother couldn’t abide living alone. She’d been a nineteen-year-old cocktail waitress when she’d met Shea’s father at the hotel where he’d been attending a conference. Within eleven months they’d married and had Shea. It took them ten years to divorce, which was a miracle. No two people were less suited for each other. Her father was a prominent theoretical physicist, and her mother… well, while she wasn’t necessarily bright, she was clever and a stunner with an eye for fashion. Had a knack for snagging rich men, too, considering her roots were crusty blue collar. The longest she’d been between husbands was about a year.

Shea had hated the between times. Moving from town to town, school to school and finally to boarding school. And getting used to new “fathers.” She hated change of any kind, even if it meant staying in a relationship that had run its course. Give her a steady routine any day—she liked having things she could count on. It had been Brian who’d left her. Nearly three years they’d been together, had shared an apartment for almost two of them. She supposed she should feel something—sadness, regret, maybe even anger over the callous way he’d broken up with her a year ago. She felt nothing.

No, that wasn’t entirely true, she thought, with a satisfied smile aimed at the prized view of the skyline outside her window. She was pretty pleased to have the corner office Brian coveted. Hardly a charitable thought, but too bad. She hadn’t asked for the prime spot. In fact, it was a waste. Her gaze was usually glued to her computer monitor. Not that she minded. She liked the total focus necessary in her job as a computer software engineer for a high-tech corporation. Her boss had only given the office to her to emphasize her importance to the company. They were always giving her perks and bonuses.

That was part of the reason Brian had called it quits. She’d outpaced him and grown too successful. And her terrible social skills were also a factor. Being rushed through school had its price. She’d had only one friend and two dates by the time she graduated high school at fifteen. College had been more of the same.

But she was getting better. Every day. Though only when she paid attention and put herself out there, going to a movie or having a drink with a coworker instead of locking herself away with her computer and iPad. That’s why it was important to put her foot down and not let her mother steamroll her into coming for Christmas.

“Are you still there?”

“What?” Hearing her mother’s impatient sigh, Shea realized she’d zoned out. “I have to get back to work, but I wanted to let you know about Christmas.”

“Wait a minute. Don’t you dare hang up. Nothing is settled.”

“Yes, it is. I’ve already booked a flight.”

“For where?”

“Montana.”

“What the hell’s in Montana?”

Shea smiled. Her mother wore Prada these days but her vernacular hadn’t changed. “I’m going to be doing volunteer work.”

“For God’s sake, Shea, we’ve got homeless people here in Phoenix. Can’t you sling hash at a shelter here?”

Jeez. “I’m not going to be serving at a soup kitchen. It’s an animal shelter.”

“Well, I’m sure they have places like that around here. There certainly are enough mangy-looking dogs prowling the neighborhood and knocking over garbage cans. You can still change your airline ticket.”

“I could,” Shea agreed calmly, although her annoyance was climbing. “But I’m not going to. I want to do this.”

“It’s Christmas. You’re supposed to be with family.”

“Don’t take this personally, Mom. This has nothing to do with you.” Shea didn’t know why she bothered. Of course her mother took it personally. Everything was about her. “The place where I’ll be volunteering specializes in large animals. Like horses… you know how much I’ve wanted—”

“Damn right I’m taking it personally,” she said, cutting Shea off. “You spent Thanksgiving with your father and that squawking brood of his, but you won’t come to see me?”

She would not give in. Nope. Not this time. She stared at her hand, surprised that she’d started drumming her fingers on the desk. What usually came next was counting in multiples of three with each tap of her finger.

Briefly closing her eyes, she breathed in deeply and ordered herself to stop. The mild OCD had started a few years ago. She wasn’t crazy. The ritual simply helped to relieve her stress. But she’d been trying to use breathing exercises to replace it.

“Look, I’ll come for a weekend in January, okay?” Shea said, anticipating her mother’s inevitable objection. “It’ll be quieter then and we can spend more time together.”

“That won’t work for me.”

“Sorry, Mom, it’ll have to. We’ll talk more later, all right? I have to go.”

“But, Shea—”

She clenched her teeth together and forced herself to disconnect the call, acutely aware of how much she’d just royally ticked off her mother. And how desperately she needed a large number of deep breaths. But there was no other way. Shea would hate herself if she gave in now and backed out of volunteering. Not only that, but Rachel McAllister had also gone above and beyond to provide a room even though the ranch was closed for December.

As much as Shea hated having to impose, she was glad she didn’t have to mingle with other guests. Her interaction with the family would be minimal. She planned on being gone each morning before they sat down to breakfast and not returning until bedtime. The schedule suited her fine—she wanted to spend as much time at the shelter as she could. For her, animals were always easier to deal with than people.

“Hey, you.”

At the sound of Nancy’s voice, she brought her head up. The sharply dressed marketing director stood in the doorway, a black leather briefcase in one hand, a red designer purse nearly as big in the other.

“I thought everyone had left already,” Shea said, wondering if any coworkers had overheard her phone conversation. They’d be surprised at her taking such a strong stand. But hey, she was the new Shea.

“The gang from Contracts went to O’Malley’s pub. We’re meeting them over there. Pack up and let’s go.”

“Oh.” Shea shifted her gaze to her watch, the familiar squeeze of dread bringing her shoulders down. “Maybe next time. I still have some work to catch up on.”

“Nobody works late this close to Christmas. Besides, tonight is trivia, and we need you on the team.” Nancy’s glossy peach lips lifted in challenge.

Shea stared helplessly at her monitor screen, biting her lip, trying to think of a graceful way out. She did enjoy the trivia, but the rest of it? It was difficult to be with a group like that, especially when they thought she had no sense of humor, and they called her Spock. She was sure they thought it was funny, but just because she was different didn’t mean she didn’t have feelings.

“Hey.” Sympathy warmed Nancy’s eyes. “You love showing up all those nerds from accounting.”

One victory was enough for the day, although she appreciated the invitation. “Another time, okay?”

“If you change your mind…”

She wouldn’t. She rarely did.

2

HER HANDS CRAMPED from holding the steering wheel so tightly, Shea saw the sign indicating the Sundance Ranch and drove her rented SUV down the gravel driveway. The sky was overcast, the nearby mountaintops covered with snow, but fortunately there was none on the ground.

Thank God.

She’d forgotten about the whole snow issue. Her adult life had been spent in California and only twice had she driven in anything worse than a good downpour. When the rental agent had assured her that the Toyota was equipped with snow tires and four-wheel drive, but asked if she knew how to put chains on her tires, she’d about had a stroke. Only then did she consider that she should’ve researched Montana weather before committing to the shelter.

That was the kind of obvious stuff that went clear over her head. She was like her father in that regard. A soaring IQ and not enough common sense. No, her father won that round—at least Shea hadn’t married someone she’d known for only two minutes.

A bunch of buildings came into view but it was the house that Shea focused on. She remembered the description from the website and knew the original log cabin had been two stories, was over a hundred and fifty years old and various renovations and additions over the generations had expanded the residence.

Still, knowing what she did hadn’t prepared her. The place was huge, three stories with two separate wings, the front of the house facing the Rockies. As she got closer she saw the windows, large expanses of glass that would allow perfects views.

Spirals of smoke rose from the dark green roof and disappeared into the gray sky. There were at least three fireplaces going. She loved fireplaces for the crackling sound burning wood made and for toasting marshmallows. But this wasn’t really a vacation, she reminded herself, and she had no intention of imposing on the family. When she wasn’t at the shelter she’d be sticking to her room. The McAllisters had been good enough to take her in when they should be celebrating the holidays alone, as a family. That’s what this time of year was for.

Or so she’d been told a time or two. She had no practical experience in the matter. Even when her parents had been married, the atmosphere at home hadn’t been particularly cozy. Her father was a workaholic and her mother a shopaholic. Shea had gotten a lot of studying done. Later, when she’d been sent to boarding school, she hadn’t minded at all. Going home for the holidays? That hadn’t always worked out so well.

There seemed to be two areas for parking, one closer to the house, the other a grassy brown spot next to a large building that was probably the stables. She slowed the SUV, then saw a young woman step outside onto the porch that wrapped around both corners of the house.

Bundled in a green down jacket, the auburn-haired woman, who Shea would bet was Rachel, smiled and waved. After gesturing for Shea to park on the grass, she rubbed her hands together and blew on them before stuffing them into the pockets of her worn jeans.

Behind her the front door opened again. Another woman—older, shorter—appeared, followed by a tall man with longish dark hair. Shea couldn’t see him clearly, for one thing she was too busy parking and trying not to demolish the building.

Plus, her pulse had sped up and her hands had grown clammy.

What was this, the welcoming committee? It was hard enough meeting strangers and now she felt as if she were suddenly on a stage. Maybe it was a dude ranch tradition… the whole family greeting the new guest. She shuddered. Weird. This was precisely why staying at a B and B had never appealed to her. People expected conversation and small talk. Definitely not her strong suit.

Bracing herself, she put the SUV in Park and turned off the ignition. She grabbed her purse and opened the door. The sound of an engine confused her for a second. She looked at the keys in her hand.

The noise was coming from behind, she realized, and twisted around to see that a huge black pickup had followed her down the driveway. With the windows rolled up and the heater going, she hadn’t heard it. The driver parked closer to the house and it was quickly apparent that Shea wasn’t the reason everyone had rushed to the porch, and she had to laugh at her own paranoia. At least she could see the humor in it now. Climbing out of the car, she smiled as the younger woman approached her and the other two converged on the truck.

“Shea Monroe, right?” she said, grinning, and Shea nodded. “I’m Rachel. We spoke when you made your reservation.” The woman extended her hand.

“Yes, I remember.” Shea started to pull off her glove but Rachel stopped her.

“Don’t. It’s freezing.” Rachel laughed and squeezed Shea’s gloved hand. “At least I had enough sense to grab my jacket.”

“Thanks again for giving me a room. I swear I’ll be no trouble.”

“Hey, we’re big supporters of Safe Haven. It’s so nice of you to give up your holidays to volunteer. My brother works with them quite a bit and occasionally we foster horses.”

Shea’s gaze automatically went to the man and the older woman who stood beside the truck. He was very nice-looking, about her age, she guessed.

“That’s Trace over there with our mom,” Rachel said. “He’s one of the hooligans but not the one I was talking about.” The new arrivals, a man and a woman, stepped out of the truck and Rachel waved frantically at them. “That’s my other brother Cole and his girlfriend, Jamie. He just picked her up at the airport. She’s come to spend Christmas with us.”

“Oh, you have two brothers. How nice,” Shea said, and when Rachel gave her a quizzical look she just smiled. No, she wasn’t a sparkling conversationalist, so better everyone know now.

“I have three.” Rachel studied her a moment. “You probably noticed them on the website.…”

“Oh, right.” She wasn’t in the habit of lying, but having noticed her brothers seemed to mean something to Rachel so Shea didn’t see the harm in the small fib.

Rachel titled her head slightly to the side, amusement dancing in her bright green eyes. “Or maybe not. It doesn’t matter. I’ll help with your bags and then you can meet everyone.”

“No, please, go be with your family. I’ll be along in a minute.”

“No worries. I’ll see them later.” Rachel swung around to the back of the SUV. “How many bags? I can get Trace to—”

“That’s not necessary,” Shea said, cutting her off then feeling ashamed for being rude. She cleared her throat. “Thanks, but I don’t have much and I need to do some rearranging before I come in.” She paused. “If that’s okay?”

“Sure. I didn’t mean to rush you. Take all the time you need.” Rachel lightly touched her arm, the understanding in her eyes a bit unnerving. “We can be a boisterous bunch, but I promise we don’t bite.”

Shea managed a grateful nod before Rachel turned away, then felt her face flame. She hated the random attacks of shyness that plagued her when she was around too many people. Quickly, she opened the back hatch and busied herself with sifting through her suitcase. A few things, such as her heavy boots and mittens, could stay in the back of the car. No sense lugging them back and forth to the house. She’d need them at the shelter, not here.

Her gaze drifted toward the animated group as they chatted and laughed, grabbing luggage and totes full of wrapped presents from the back of the truck. Cole was tall and dark like Trace, with hair that brushed his collar. And the honey-blonde woman, Cole’s girlfriend, was very pretty. She seemed comfortable with the family, as if she’d known them for a long time.

Shea couldn’t help but be a little envious of the lively group. The men not so much, but the three women were gabbing as if there wasn’t enough time to get everything in. Good for them. But being an outsider was fine with her. Comfortable. Familiar.

She had the strangest feeling that someone was watching her and turned to scan the outer building. An indistinct rider was galloping in from the south. Appearing oblivious to the cold, a pair of beautiful roans munched hay from a bale in the corral. It was close to dinnertime so she wasn’t surprised that there were no workers in sight. The only other sign of humanity was smoke streaming out of the smokestack of one of the brick-and-wood buildings, probably the bunkhouse.

She started to turn back to sorting when she saw him under the archway to the barn. She’d almost missed him, standing in the shadows, lean and tall—well over six feet. He wore faded jeans, a brown flannel shirt, boots and work gloves, and he stared out, though not at her. His attention was on the family, who now headed toward the front steps.

She couldn’t seem to tear her gaze away from him. He could’ve been a McAllister. He had the same coloring, the height, the same dark hair as the two brothers, except his was much shorter, almost a military cut. But that wasn’t what made her doubt he was one of the brothers, it was the way he held himself back from the group. Like an outsider idly looking on… like she had.

Maybe he was one of the hired hands. Very good-looking, at any rate. Just an observation. It wasn’t that she was interested. She was totally done with men. They weren’t worth the aggravation. Even sex was overrated in her opinion. Focusing on her work gave her far more satisfaction. And she hoped her time at the shelter would help fill her need to connect with another living, breathing being. Preferably a horse. She loved horses, always had.

Shea smiled as she thought about all the childhood letters she’d written to Santa asking for a pony. But all she’d ever gotten were silly froufrou dresses from her mother and educational toys from her father. Oh, and that trip to Disneyland when she was nine. Her parents had argued the entire time and divorced three months later.

A week after her father had moved out of the house, Shea had asked for a dog, but her mother had refused what she deemed an “added burden.” It had probably been for the best. The way Shea had accelerated though prep school and then college, she’d never really had time to care for a pet. But she was seriously considering adopting a dog now. She still worked ungodly hours, but maybe she could trade her corner office for a kennel on the first floor. After all, other employees were provided day care for their kids.

The family had disappeared inside and the man from the barn had disappeared, too. If she didn’t hurry, she knew Rachel would send someone after her. Shea swung her suitcase out of the back, then hurried toward the porch. All she wanted was for someone to point out her room, where she could hibernate until it was time to head to the shelter in the morning.

JESSE STOMPED the dried dirt off his boots outside the mudroom door, then entered the small space that led to the kitchen. His eyes were gritty and he still hadn’t gotten all the filth off his hands even though he’d been wearing gloves and had washed up some in the barn. He didn’t care. Manual labor was exactly what he’d needed. His back and shoulder muscles were pleasantly sore and just maybe he’d get a full night’s sleep.

“Good. You’re here,” Rachel said before he’d opened the kitchen door all the way. She ran her gaze down the front of his shirt and jeans and wrinkled her nose. “What have you been doing?”

“Cleaning out the barn shed. We had too much equipment packed in there.”

“God. Go take a shower. We have guests.”

“Jamie will be here a whole week. And she came to see Cole, not us.”

“I wasn’t thinking only of Jamie but of Shea, too.” Rachel opened the oven and the spicy smell of lasagna filled the kitchen.

His stomach growled. “What about her?”

“Cool the attitude. It’s not as if she’s a regular guest,” Rachel said, throwing him an annoyed look while pulling on oven mitts. “She’s going to be at the shelter most of the time and only here to sleep. So if you’re still pissy about me taking her in, get over it.”

“I don’t care who’s here. I doubt I’ll be around much myself.”

The sudden hurt in Rachel’s eyes made him look away. She said nothing, but concentrated on taking the steaming dish out of the oven.

“I’ll go take that shower,” he murmured and kept walking.

“Jesse?”

He wanted to ignore her. He wished he hadn’t made that unnecessary crack about not being around. “What do you want, squirt?”

She didn’t react to the hated childhood nickname. “It’s almost Christmas. You know how much the holidays mean to Mom.”

“I’m not gonna mess anything up, okay?”

“Not on purpose you wouldn’t.”

Sighing, he briefly closed his eyes and rubbed them with the heels of his hand. “What do you want from me, Rachel? I cut down the trees for the living room and the den, strung the lights along the eves. I’m here. I’m participating.”

Except he wasn’t really here, not emotionally. That’s what Rachel was getting at, even though she managed to give him a small smile. “I know, Jesse. You’ve been great about helping us decorate. You have far more patience than Cole or Trace for that sort of thing.”

He tugged at a tendril of hair that had escaped her ponytail. “Shower first, then I’ll help set the table.”

“I have something else I’d rather you do,” she said quickly.

“What’s that?”

“Shea is staying in the guest wing. First room on the right. Knock on her door and tell her dinner will be ready in ten.”

He opened his mouth to refuse, then just nodded. Hell, he didn’t have to be in a hospitable mood to knock on a door.

“And don’t take no for an answer,” Rachel added, wagging a wooden spoon at him. “I’m holding you responsible.”

Jesus, his sister could be a pain in the ass. He waved her off, headed out of the kitchen and took the stairs two at a time to the second floor. Voices and laughter came from the den and he thought about yanking Trace away to go get the woman. But that wouldn’t be fair. Besides, once he showed his face he’d have to acknowledge Jamie, then make small talk.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like Cole’s girlfriend—he did. He was glad they’d hooked up. His brother couldn’t have done better. But there would be enough time for socializing at dinner. The forty minutes of mindless pleasantries seemed to be as much as Jesse could handle lately.

He’d peeled off his clothes, showered and shampooed in nine minutes, then stood at the woman’s door, trying like hell to recall her name. Didn’t matter. Basically, he was only delivering a message.

She answered his knock immediately, warily pulling open the door a few inches and regarding him with surprised gray-blue eyes. She blinked, did a quick survey of his flannel shirt and jeans, then met his eyes again. “Oh, it’s you.”

“Um…” He stepped back. “I don’t think we’ve met.”

Blinking again, she opened the door a little more, enough for him to see that she also wore jeans and that her feet were bare. “I saw you earlier.” She moved the long bangs away from her eyes. “Are you Rachel’s brother?”

Jesse nodded and almost smiled at the trim woman. Straight off, there was something different about her. Unlike so many of the females who’d been guests at the ranch, she hadn’t been artful or flirty with her hair, she’d just shoved it out of the way. “Dinner’s ready,” he said, disengaging from her forthright stare to get a better look.

Shea held herself tall even though she wasn’t. He’d guess five-six? A little thin, but no big deal. While her body was pleasant, he was drawn back to her face, her unusual eyes with their dark lashes. He liked that she had full lips but didn’t wear a hint of lipstick on them. He might not mind the look of the gloss, but he’d never liked the taste.

“Uh,” she said, shaking her head, her straight light brown hair swinging from side to side and bringing him back to the conversation. “I’m not eating with you.”

He didn’t know what to say at first and just stared as she pressed her lips together, making one cheek dimple. “Should I take this personally?”

“No,” she said matter-of-factly. “I promised Rachel I wouldn’t be any trouble. I have some cheese crackers here.…” A slight frown puckered her brows. “There’s no rule against eating in the rooms, is there?”

“I doubt it.” Jesse laughed. “Look, Rachel made lasagna. If you don’t come down, she’ll be charging up to get you. Not to mention I’ll get chewed out.”

“Hmm, this is a bit awkward,” she said, with a frank unwavering gaze he found intriguing. “Honestly, I didn’t think this would be an issue.”

He moved farther back to give her space. “For now how about coming downstairs with me? I can smell the lasagna from here.”

She sniffed, and her stomach growled loudly. She glanced down with annoyance and pressed a hand to her flat belly. “I haven’t had home cooking in a long time, and you’re right, it smells heavenly.”

“My sister can be a pain in the neck, but I’ll admit, the woman can cook.”

She flashed him a quick smile. “I’m Shea, by the way. Did you tell me your name?”

He shrugged. “It’s Jesse.”

“Pleased to meet you, Jesse.” She offered her hand in an unexpected businesslike manner.

“Likewise.” He liked her firm grip, the softness of her palm pressed against his. “I hear Rachel rounding up everyone.”

“What?”

“I think dinner is on the table.”

“Okay.” She released his hand and dragged her palm down the front of her jeans. She slipped through the doorway into the hall, still barefoot.

“No one will care whether you’re wearing shoes or not, but you should know we have wood floors downstairs.”

Shea looked down. “Oh.” She grinned and wiggled her toes. When she lifted her gaze, her cheeks were slightly flushed, making her eyes seem a little bluer. “I forgot. You go ahead if you want. I’ll be right there.”

He watched her disappear into her room but didn’t move except to fold his arms across his chest, lean against the wall and wait. The irony of him being the one Rachel sent as the family’s goodwill ambassador wasn’t lost on him. He of all people couldn’t blame anyone for not wanting to sit around with a bunch of strangers and he’d be the last person coaxing someone to the table.

Yeah, he’d considered backing off, letting her eat her crackers in peace. But he didn’t think Shea’s reluctance was due to shyness or anything other than genuinely not wanting to intrude. What a change from most of the guests who’d come to stay since Rachel started the dude ranch six months ago.

Some of those women had been something else. Even Trace, who was quite the Casanova, had started complaining about finding them under every rock. Not that it mattered to Jesse. He’d usher Shea downstairs and that would be it. If he had a rescue to deliver, maybe he’d see her at the shelter. And if not, that was fine, too.

3

WHEN SHEA SAW all the people sitting at the large dining-room table she wanted to turn around and run. Of course the whole family would be here. What was she thinking agreeing to have dinner with them? She’d let her empty tummy sway her.

“Here, Shea.” Rachel pulled out a chair. “Sit next to me. I’ll introduce you to everyone.”

They were all looking at her with friendly expressions but that didn’t help. Her pulse had already started racing, her legs felt leaden and stiff and she was pretty much stuck because she doubted she could make it up the stairs.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt the pressure of a hand at the small of her back. She whipped her head around and met Jesse’s warm brown eyes.

“Go ahead,” he said, with an encouraging smile—he must have noticed how tense she was. That knowledge didn’t help one bit. “I’ll get you something to drink. Wine?”

She jerked her chin in some vague form of a nod and kept her focus on the empty chair until she was safely seated.

No one seemed to have observed her attack of nerves, no one except Jesse, of course. Rachel had already started passing a platter of bread and butter around the table.

“Listen up, everyone,” she said, pulling a large glass bowl of salad toward her. “This is Shea. I lied and told her how nice and perfectly civilized we all are, so try and fake it, okay?”

Laughter interspersed with indignation filled the room. The older woman Shea had seen earlier sat at the head of the table shushing them, then directed a smile at Shea. “I’m Barbara McAllister, the mother of this rowdy bunch. Except Jamie over there, who I’ve decided to claim, anyway.”

Grinning, the blonde lifted a hand and wiggled her fingers.

“That’s Cole cutting the lasagna,” Barbara continued.

“Glad you could join us, Shea,” he said, regarding her with the same dark eyes as Jesse. “Hand me your plate. I’ve got a nice big juicy piece for you.”

“Come on, you know I have a system.” Rachel stopped tossing the greens to glare at her brother. “Keep cutting. Let me get the salad passed around clockwise and then—”

“Oh, Christ, here we go—”

“Trace!” Barbara gave him a reproving look.

A giggle rose in Shea’s throat and she pressed her lips together trying to smother the sound.

Rachel clearly heard. “What?” she asked, her mouth slightly curved. “It’s okay. Everyone laughs at Trace.”

“No, your system. Passing clockwise,” Shea said, trying to compose herself. “I get that. I really do.”

“Thank you,” Rachel said with a smug lift of her chin aimed at Trace.

He made a crack that Shea didn’t hear because Jesse came up behind her, and suddenly all her senses were fixated on him.

“Would you like white or red?” he asked, bending close to her ear, his warm breath tickling her skin and sending an unexpected shiver down her spine.

She turned her head and saw that he was holding a bottle of wine in each hand. “Actually, I’m not much of a drinker. Maybe I should stick with water.”

“All right, but this chardonnay is pretty good stuff.” His voice was low and deep, and terribly unnerving because it seemed meant only for her.

Shea sighed. Probably a mistake given that she was already feeling rather warm, but she said, “Maybe a little.”

“Wine?” Trace snorted. “What’s the occasion?”

“Think, you heathen. We’re celebrating Jamie coming to be with us for the holidays.” Rachel sprinkled sunflower seeds on the salad, gave it a long approving look, then passed the bowl to her mother.

Jamie grinned. “We can always hook you up to a keg, Trace.”

“Hey, I’m down with that.” Trace smiled, his teeth strikingly white against his tan skin.

He was one of those real charmers, Shea thought, watching the way he casually combed his fingers through his thick dark hair. Probably had a string of girlfriends.

Shea forgot all about Trace as Jesse leaned in between her and Rachel to pour them each some wine. He brushed her shoulder as he maneuvered his upper body through the narrow space. Angled toward Shea, his flat belly only inches away, he ignited a tingling, nervous sensation that made her hold her breath and force her face straight.

One, two, three… four, five, six… seven, eight, nine…

His task accomplished, he retreated, and she stopped counting, unclenched her teeth and let out a slow breath that was still a bit shaky.

“Thank you,” she managed to say in a small voice.

“You’re welcome.” He’d already moved on to his mother, poured red for her and then continued on, filling everyone else’s glasses.

Okay, that was weird. Not her reaction—she always hated when anyone got too close—but the heat spreading through her limbs unsettled her some. Jeez, was she ever regretting the dinner invitation. This was torture and to top it off, her appetite was gone.

She hadn’t realized she was still tracking him until she heard her name and it was clear someone was trying to get her attention.

Blinking, she glanced around the table and saw Mrs. McAllister smiling at her.

“It’s so good of you to give up the holidays with your family to volunteer at Safe Haven,” she said. “The people there are wonderful and I’m sure they appreciate your sacrifice.”

“Oh, it’s no sacrifice.” Shea realized how that sounded, picked up her wineglass and took a sip. “I wanted to get away for the holidays.”

“I did, too.” Jamie accepted the bowl of salad from Trace and heaped some on her plate. “I don’t have any brothers and sisters, and my parents live in Zurich, so I’m glad the McAllisters took pity on me.”

“Excuse me.” Cole stopped serving lasagna to lift an eyebrow at her. “Is that your only reason for coming?”

Even as the corners of Jamie’s mouth quirked, her forehead creased in a confused frown. “I can’t think of anything else,” she said with an exaggerated innocence that even Shea could tell was a fake.

“Zap!” Trace barked out a laugh. “How’s your ego, bro?”

Jamie leaned over and kissed Cole half on the mouth and half on the cheek, her hand reaching under the table.

“I’d shut up until I got my lasagna if I were you,” Rachel told Trace.

“If you were me you’d be smarter and better-looking.”

“Oh, God.” Rachel rolled her eyes. “Mom, are you sure you didn’t find him on the side of the road?”

“You’re all hopeless.” Barbara McAllister shook her head, but it was clear she didn’t mind her children horsing around.

Jesse smiled at the teasing as he took his seat but he seemed to be the most serious of the bunch. Shea thought back to when she first saw him, standing apart from the rest of the family. He hadn’t rushed to greet Jamie, though Shea had a feeling his reticence had nothing to do with the woman.

The salad finished making its round. Everyone but Shea had taken a slice of bread, which looked homemade. Plates were passed to receive the cheesy pasta, but not to Rachel’s satisfaction because she complained her system had been ruined.

Shea liked her. A lot. She liked Jamie, too, because Shea had the impression that Jamie had chimed in to bail her out.

It was odd for her to take a liking to anyone so quickly. Her gaze drifted to Jesse. She kind of liked him, too, but she hated that he was sitting directly across from her. It was difficult not to stare at him.

His hair was still a little damp on top, but the sides were so short they were already dry. The conservative cut made her think he’d be the clean-shaven type, but he’d left the stubble of beard that shadowed his jaw and chin. That and his tanned skin gave him a rugged look. She found the combination oddly appealing.

Rachel must have passed Shea’s plate to Cole without her seeing because it was now heaping with a portion she’d never be able to finish. It smelled divine, though, and with her renewed appetite she was willing to give it her best try.

For a few minutes it was quiet while everyone dug in to their meals. Ignoring the tempting aroma of the lasagna, she started with her salad because that’s what she always did. She’d finished chewing a cherry tomato when Rachel turned to her.

“So, Shea, do you ride?” she asked.

She dabbed the corners of her mouth with her napkin. “A little. I took refresher lessons last week, but I don’t think that’s a requirement of the shelter.”

“Oh, no, I didn’t mean to imply that. I thought you might enjoy a trail ride tomorrow. We have a couple of very gentle mares in our stables, and since it’s your only free day before you start at Safe Haven—”

“I don’t have a free day. I start tomorrow. But thank you for your offer.”

Frowning, Rachel put down her fork. “I thought Annie Sheridan said she would be giving the volunteers their orientation.”

Shea had the name of her contact written down but she was fairly certain it was Annie. “Yes, I believe she’s the person I spoke to.”

“That’s odd. She told me she had three volunteers answer her ad and they all started on Monday. Maybe I’m wrong. Forget I said anything.”

Panic squeezed Shea’s chest. Had she mixed up the dates? It was possible. She’d been in such a hurry. Tomorrow was Sunday. Oh, God, why hadn’t she stopped to consider this was the weekend and starting on Monday made much more sense?

The sudden lapse into silence flustered her. Not only that, but she also just knew everyone was staring at her. She refused to look up but concentrated on spearing another cherry tomato. She’d promised to stay out of the family’s way. They were probably wondering why she’d arrived a day early.

“I think I’ll drive over there tomorrow, anyway.” She gave a small shrug. “Maybe they could still use some help.”

“Actually, I think Annie’s in Kalispell picking up supplies,” Rachel said quietly. “It’s really the perfect time for a trail ride.” She paused. “I can take you myself.”

Oh, how Shea wished the beautiful finished wood floor would simply part and swallow her whole. This was so typical of her. Couldn’t even keep a date straight.

JESSE CHEWED his food and took a quick sip of wine to wash it down. It wasn’t like Rachel to be insensitive. Why the hell didn’t she lay off? Couldn’t she see that Shea was embarrassed? The poor woman could barely look up.

“I’ll take you,” he said, keeping his gaze on her, knowing that everyone else’s attention abruptly turned to him. “I have to inspect some fencing along the north pasture. Won’t take long, then we can head over to Lincoln Pass. That is, if you’re interested.”

Her anxious eyes met his. “I don’t want to be any trouble,” she said softly.

“I have to go, anyway.” He shrugged. “It’s beautiful country, when it’s not buried under ten feet of snow. Even then, it’s something to see.”

“You should go,” Rachel said, laying a hand on Shea’s arm. “Between the weather and your duties at the shelter, tomorrow may be your only chance.” She smiled. “I could pack you guys a picnic lunch.”

He wanted like hell to nail his well-intentioned sister with a don’t-push-it glare but he couldn’t risk Shea seeing it. “Maybe we could work the ride around lunchtime,” he said, fully intending to pull Rachel aside later. He didn’t want her to read too much into his offer.

“I know the area Jesse’s talking about,” Jamie said. “It’s breathtaking and you shouldn’t miss it. Rachel, pass the bread, will you?”

Everyone went back to eating and talking, the subject turning to the open house later in the week. The event wasn’t a big deal. His mother had been hosting it since they were kids, but Jamie had never been, and Rachel was describing the traditional menu and how piñatas filled with candy and small toys were hung for the children.

Shea concentrated on her food, smiling graciously when she was ordered to come home hungry the night of the open house. Jesse had the feeling she’d have preferred to be anywhere else right now. She sure wouldn’t be showing her face at the party. Not that he blamed her. He’d do just about anything to get out of it himself. He wasn’t feeling particularly cheerful about the holidays.

He’d recognized from the first that Shea had some shyness issues. Could be that she was avoiding her own family for Christmas and preferred to be alone. In any case, he doubted she’d want to rub elbows with a bunch of strangers. Nosy ones at that. Half the town would show up at the open house and they’d be curious about her since Rachel hadn’t accepted any other guests.

“Isn’t that right, Jesse?”

He looked at his mother, at a total loss. “Sorry, what was that?”

She smiled. “Never mind, son. Eat your supper.”

He didn’t ask again. The guarded way his brothers were eyeing him, he figured she’d made yet another remark about how good it was to have him back. Although he’d never said anything, they knew it irritated him. This time of year she tended to be more sentimental. They’d lost their father to cancer eleven years ago, and she still missed him. They all did.

Sometimes he still felt guilty for having worried her by joining the air force. It made no sense. He hadn’t asked to be shipped out. He’d merely done his duty and enlisted, the same as every other McAllister male before him. But if he reenlisted now…

Shit, he couldn’t think about what would happen to her if she lost a son, too. His decision had to be based on what was best for the whole family and the survival of the Sundance.

He stabbed at a piece of lasagna, determined to enjoy his meal and block the litany of concerns plaguing his mind. Yeah, he had to make a decision soon, just not this week. For now he needed to be the good son, the amenable brother. Rachel was more than pulling her weight by running the dude ranch and he’d help out by taking her guest for a lousy trail ride. It was the least he could do.

Instead of taking a bite he grabbed his wineglass, and as he brought it to his lips, he looked across at Shea. She glanced up at the same time, her soft gray eyes tinged with something close to gratitude.

Hell, he hoped she didn’t get the wrong idea. His offer was meant to make life easier for Rachel. It had nothing to do with Shea. Nothing at all.

IT WAS THE ALTITUDE making her feel a bit drugged. Shea struggled to inhale the cold thin air deep into her lungs and shuddered. She’d obviously disturbed Gypsy because the gentle mare took the next two steps high and Shea squeezed her thighs around the animal’s girth, afraid she was about to slide backward out of the saddle.

A few feet ahead of her, Jesse turned around, his brown Stetson pulled low to block the sun. “You okay?”

“Fine.”

Only when he lowered his gaze to her hand did she realize she was gripping the saddle horn. She released it and forced herself to relax. The sky was clear and blue, the side of the mountain covered with a beautiful array of pine trees in varying shades of green. Back home when it was cold the sky was usually gray and the air damp, making everything seem dreary.

“Want to stop for a while?” Jesse slowed down until he rode abreast of her. They’d ridden that way most of the past hour, but he’d gone up ahead when they started the slight ascent and the trail narrowed. “We can also turn around. Your call.”

“Don’t you have to check some fencing?”

He smiled and adjusted his hat. “That’ll only take a minute.”

She really appreciated him making time to ride with her. Last night she’d considered rejecting his offer, but it was good practice and the last chance she’d have to get comfortable in the saddle. “I’d like to keep going.”

He ran his gaze down the front of her pink down jacket, then followed her jean-clad leg to the boot she had tucked into the stirrup. Naturally he couldn’t see anything interesting but the scrutiny made her tingle, anyway. “What are you wearing under that?”

“Excuse me?”

The skin at the corners of his eyes crinkled and his mouth lifted in a vague smile. “You should have thermal underwear. You’ll be working outside a lot at Safe Haven.”

“Guess I should’ve thought of that. I’ll go to town later.” He reached over and casually caught her hand, startling her. “You have another pair of gloves?” he asked, inspecting the inside fleece lining.

“These are quite warm.”

“Waterproof?”

“Um, not sure.”

“They should have a snug closure around here,” he said, showing her by closing his large hand around the glove and her wrist. “Keeps the cold air from getting in there.”

“I see what you mean.” Her hand did feel warmer. In fact a toasty flush surged through her entire body. Apparently she’d been spending too much time staring at his broad shoulders instead of the scenery.

He let go at the same time as she pulled her hand away. “The shelter might have an extra pair you can use, but if not I can loan you my old work gloves. They’re too big so you’d have to wear them over yours.”

“Thanks, but I’m sure I can find something suitable in town.”

“Maybe. You have small hands and inventory is low to make room for Christmas gifts and decorations. But try Abe’s Variety or the hardware store.”

“I will.” She smiled, turning to take in the scenery, feeling a little shy all of a sudden. Odd, because although she didn’t like being around people as a general rule, especially after Brian, she tended to dismiss men altogether. But with Jesse… her off button seemed to be malfunctioning.

With a mixture of relief and disappointment she saw that the path was again narrowing and they’d have to return to single file. She waited for him to speed up.

“You go on ahead,” he said. “I’m not worried about overhanging branches up here.”

She clicked her tongue and after a gentle nudge, Gypsy trotted ahead of Jesse and his beautiful black gelding. The incline wasn’t too bad but where the snow had been patchy only five minutes ago, the higher they climbed the more it obscured the rocky path.

The truth was, it made her nervous. She wouldn’t complain, though. It was winter and this was Montana, so if she’d given it the kind of thought it deserved, instead of spacing out, she would have expected a lot more snow, actually. Though the mountaintops were certainly packed solid.

They rode in silence for another five minutes and then Jesse said, “There’s a meadow not far from here. We’ll stop there, water the horses and see what kind of snacks Rachel packed for us.”

“I told her not to go to the trouble.…” Shea twisted around to look at him, letting out a yelp when she nearly lost her balance.

She clung tightly to the reins but she’d already spooked Gypsy. The mare reared slightly. Shea held on for all she was worth.

In seconds Jesse was standing beside her, whispering to the horse, calming her, one hand stroking her neck. Shea stayed as still as she could, even when he switched from petting the horse to petting her arm.

4

JESSE CLENCHED his jaw. He was an ass for bringing her up here. His intentions had been good. The view was spectacular from this vantage point. But he should’ve taken into account that she might not be an experienced enough rider. Hell, it seemed as if he couldn’t do one stinkin’ thing right these days.

“You okay?” he asked, rubbing her trembling arm.

“I’m fine. Embarrassed, but I’ll survive.” She shifted away from his touch, and he backed off.

“Let’s stop for a while.” He swung out of the saddle and offered her a hand down.

Shea resisted his help, her determination to stay mounted plain in her flushed face. “Is Gypsy mad? Does she want me off?”

“Mad?” He smiled. “Don’t think so. I figured you might want to take a break. And for the record, no reason to be embarrassed.”

She moistened her rosy lips. They looked chapped. “I’d rather we get to where we’re going.”

He stroked the mare’s flank, while scanning the scraggly brush and thicket of pine trees for any sign of a predator. Gypsy was a gentle horse and it wasn’t like her to spook that easily. Yet she’d be whinnying and trying to run if there was a hungry cougar nearby. And Rambo wouldn’t be calmly munching the tall dead grass after Jesse had dismounted.

“Okay,” he said, giving the bay a final rub down her rump. “We’ll go slow. We’re in no hurry.”

“I panicked and jerked the reins. It was all me.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He lifted his hat, then reset it on his head and let out a low whistle. “Come on, Rambo.”

“What did you call him?” She glanced over her shoulder but kept her body rigidly forward. “What’s your horse’s name?”

He rarely thought about the silly name anymore, not unless someone brought it up. “Rambo.”

“Oh. Are you a fan of the movie?”

“My little brother named him.” Jesse swung up into the saddle, then with his heel tapped the horse’s flank to get him moving. “Trace was nine when Rambo was given to me as a colt, and I promised to let him choose the name.”

“That’s sweet.”

“Yeah, well, I threatened to change it at least a dozen times.”

“But you didn’t.”

He shrugged a shoulder even though she couldn’t see him. She was concentrating on getting past a snowdrift, while Jesse focused on the slim curve of her hips. She needed a longer jacket. And not so pink. Jesus, she could attract a half-blind predator with no sense of smell.

Sticking to a slow pace, he let the horses pick their way over the rocks single file. The path wasn’t dangerous or he wouldn’t have brought Shea this way, but he could tell she was a little nervous and for that he regretted taking this route. She obviously wasn’t the outdoors type, and he shouldn’t have made the assumption she was just because she’d volunteered to work at Safe Haven.

He wondered if she knew what she was in for. A large animal sanctuary was different than a city shelter that took in dogs and cute little kittens. Annie Sheridan had run the place for the past two years and there wasn’t a critter she’d turn down, whether it be an ornery mud-drenched sow or a pregnant goat with an appetite for human hair. The abandoned Nubian he’d dropped off in August had nearly scalped Annie. The damn goat was so big the staff called her Camel.

“How did you hear about Safe Haven?” he asked as soon as the path widened and Shea seemed more relaxed.

“The internet.”

“Were you specifically looking in Montana?”

“No.”

Jesse had to smile. The woman could never be accused of being too wordy. Since they’d left the ranch it seemed he started most conversations. Silence generally suited him. Folks considered him the quietest of the three brothers and he couldn’t recall meeting a woman who could match him in that department. Until now.

The differences between Shea and most of the guests who’d been coming to the Sundance were even more apparent since they’d met for the ride. Some of those women had been worse than coyotes stalking a calf separated from the herd. They had no compunction about letting a man know they were looking for vacation sex. Clearly they didn’t understand that the chase was part of the fun. Last month one of them had pretended she’d caught him alone in the barn by accident. He’d given her high marks for playing the game with some smarts, but he still hadn’t been interested. He didn’t need any potential complications. Cole had met Jamie when she’d come to the ranch as a guest, but he was lucky. The whole thing could’ve gone sideways.

Jesse let Shea have her silence the few minutes it took to get to the meadow. Now that they were just below the snow line, there were only pockets of ice, but he figured this was still the nicest place around for them to eat. While he tethered the horses, he asked her to spread the blanket he kept in his saddlebag, then pour them coffee from the thermos while he dug out their snacks.

Taking her time, she made sure the ground was free of pebbles and twigs, then shook out the wool blanket and smoothed it all the way to the corners. Apparently the placement didn’t meet with her approval because she rearranged it… twice. Then she stepped back with a critical eye, and bit at her lower lip.

When it looked as if she were going to start over, he stopped her. “You invite guests I don’t know about?”

She blinked at him. “What?”

God save him from perfectionists. “It’s fine, Shea.”

She followed his gaze and stared at the blanket. “Oh. Right.” Her cheek dimpled with her smile. “Don’t worry. I’m not really crazy. A little compulsive, absentminded sometimes, but nothing certifiable.” She rubbed her palms down the front of her jeans, then picked up the thermos and unscrewed the top.

“You mind me asking what you do for a living?”

She hesitated. “I’m a software engineer.” She glanced around. “Do we have another cup?”

He rooted in the saddlebag for a tin cup he used when camping, wondering if that meant she was a computer jockey. “Here.”

“I’ll pour.”

Holding the cup up to her, he watched while she focused on filling it within a quarter inch of the rim. “That’s good.”

“Oops, I should’ve asked if you’d be adding cream and sugar.”

“Nope. I drink it black. So do you, so I didn’t bring any.”

“How did you know that?” she asked, staring at him and absently blowing the long bangs out of her eyes.

“Last night. After dinner.” He took a quick sip. The warmth felt good going down. “You didn’t use cream or sugar.”

“Oh.” She tilted her head to the side, as if mulling over what he’d said. “What do you do for a living?”

The question stopped him. Last time he’d been asked he was sitting in a bar in Vegas near Nellis Air Force Base. A blonde had sidled up to him and it was obvious she already knew he was a pilot before she’d opened her mouth. One fine thing about flying, you never had to be without a woman. But that night he’d lied, told her he was in data entry. She’d disappeared in seconds.

“I work at the ranch.” He shrugged. “Doing whatever needs doing.”

“I suppose that makes sense.” She poured coffee for herself then seemed flustered that she didn’t have a free hand to screw the thermos cap back on.

Jesse set his cup aside, took the thermos from her and completed the task. “You sound doubtful.”

“Do I?” She pursed her lips. “Probably because you seem different than Cole and Trace.”

“They look like real cowboys and I don’t?”

Shea frowned thoughtfully. “That might be it.”

He’d been teasing so that made him laugh.

“What?” She wrapped both hands around her cup and sipped, staring warily at him over the rim. She looked so earnest he had no idea what to make of her.

“Let’s sit.” He indicated the blanket she’d painstakingly spread. “I’m hungry.”

She reached behind and rubbed her butt and lower back. “I think I’ll stand.”

He cringed inwardly at the pinched expression on her face. Probably his fault. “Too long in the saddle?”

“No, I just need to loosen up.” She shivered. “And warm up.”

“Here.” He set down his coffee and unzipped his jacket.

“What are you doing?”

“Wear this. It’ll help—”

“No.” She moved back. “I’m not taking your jacket.”

“I’ll be okay.”

“No, absolutely not.” She retreated another step and coffee sloshed onto her hand.

He took the cup from her, then finished shrugging out of his jacket. “My fault. I should’ve made sure you were dressed appropriately to come up here.”

“Please,” she said tightly. “I’m not comfortable with this.”

Jesse was the one to step back this time. He made sure there was plenty of space between them, wondering what she thought he was going to do. Jesus, he’d clearly given her the wrong idea.

“I’m sorry,” he said, hooking the jacket onto his thumb and putting up both hands. “I didn’t mean anything.”

“No.” Her eyes widened and her cheeks turned pink. “No, it’s not you. It’s just… I can’t let you freeze because I hadn’t planned well. I’d feel awful.”

Relieved, he smiled. “Hey, I’m made of tough cowboy stock. I eat bullets for breakfast. I can take the cold.”

“Put your jacket on,” she said, with a small upward tilt of her lips. “Even your ears are red.”

He touched them. Ice cold. The downside of wearing his hair so short. “Okay, this is how it’s going to be.…” He slid on his jacket but didn’t zip it. Then he swooped up the blanket she’d carefully arranged. He shook off the clinging pebbles and dried leaves, folded the blanket in half and threw it around her shoulders.

“What—?” She tried to back up but he stopped her.

He gathered the ends together under her chin, aware that his fingers had brushed her breasts. The contact was innocent and unintentional, the down jacket thick enough that he didn’t feel the need to apologize. That would make it worse.

“Come on,” he said, pulling the blanket more snugly around her. “Doesn’t this feel better?”

She shuddered again, huddled under the blanket and stared at him with eyes slightly wide, slightly confused. Her gloved hands slid over his to grasp the bunched wool. “Thank you.”

“Got it?” he asked, then waited for her to nod before releasing his hold.

“Now we don’t have anyplace to sit.”

He zipped his jacket and indicated an outcropping of rocks close to the semifrozen stream. “How about over there?”

“If you’d rather, we can turn around.”

“Is that what you want to do?”

She tilted her head back, her gaze lifted to the sky. She wore little makeup, if any, but then she didn’t need anything. Her lashes were even thicker than he’d thought last night, and the more he looked into her gray-blue eyes, the more interesting they seemed. And her skin… it looked soft, really silky. Good thing he wasn’t one to give in to impulse. He sure had a powerful itch to run his thumb across her cheek to see for himself.

“I love being out here. But I don’t want to interfere with your work.” She brought her small chin down and met his gaze. “I still can’t believe I got my first day mixed up.” She sighed. “That’s a lie. I mess up timelines a lot.”

“Here I figured you for the organized type.”

“At work I am, but in my personal life…” She gave a small helpless shrug. “It seems I need to pay more attention to details.”

Jesse threw out their cold coffee and poured them refills. “This time it worked out,” he said, putting her cup in her hand.

“How do you mean?”

“You might not have had a chance to come up here. Isn’t it beautiful country?” He looked over the gently rolling hills that flattened out toward the Sundance.

Where the pine trees thinned, he could see the sun glistening off streams and creeks, which were partially iced over. Winter wasn’t his favorite time of year, but the sagebrush and bunchgrass would be covered with snow soon and fields of undisturbed velvety white would produce a different kind of beauty. His chest tightened. Hard to think about leaving Montana. His family. The Sundance.

Damn, every time he figured he’d come to a decision, his thinking got muddled.

No, the problem wasn’t so much in his head—his heart was doing the interfering. He knew better. There was no place for emotion in this debate. Duty came first.

“You’re right. It’s gorgeous.” Silence again lapsed as she stood beside him, gazing out at the peaceful landscape. “Is that your ranch?” She pointed, and the blanket slid off her shoulders.

He caught it, but not before splashing coffee down the front of his jeans. “Son of a—” He cut himself short. “Sorry.”

Looking horrified, she stared at his fly, or at least that’s where her attention seemed to be centered. “I just keep being a nuisance.”

“Hey, no problem. It’ll freeze-dry in seconds.” He paused. “My jeans.”

“Right.” She blushed. “I knew what you meant,” she murmured, taking the blanket from him, and struggling with only one free hand to rearrange it around her hunched shoulders.

He wondered how old she was. She probably wasn’t as young as he assumed. It wasn’t just the blushing. Rachel blushed easily and she was a damn firecracker. Shea seemed… not naive necessarily, backward wasn’t right, either… just different. Whatever it was, the woman had a strange effect on him he wasn’t sure he cared for.

“I think we should go back. I still have to go to town for the thermal underwear and gloves, and I’d prefer to go before dark.”

“You have a few hours—” he began, then saw a flicker of apprehension in her eyes. “You’re right. Better to give yourself some extra time.” He almost offered to drive her, but he had the impression she wanted to get away from him. He didn’t take it personally. Maybe he should, though.

Different was one thing. Interesting was a whole new ball game. For his own sake, maybe she was someone he should stay away from, period.

JESSE MCALLISTER was gorgeous, his manners perfect and Shea loved the gentle way he talked to his horse. Any normal woman with a pulse would’ve noticed his dark good looks and quiet confidence. Apparently she could count herself among them, which was an oddity in itself. Her awareness level barely reached simmer when it came to the opposite sex. Any pubescent attraction she’d experienced had always been edged out by fear and awkwardness. She’d quickly learned to compartmentalize. It was quite remarkable that she’d even hooked up with Brian.

So what on earth was this fluttering sensation over Jesse? Because he was nice? Because he paid her some attention? God, she hoped not. That would make her too much like her mother.

Taking a deep breath, she tried to relax as he helped her into the saddle. He was merely being polite, she reminded herself. Her flustered reactions were her problem, not his. What made the situation more difficult was the whole touching thing. Jesse was so casual about brushing her arm, tucking the blanket around her shoulders, cupping the back of her lower calf to make sure her foot was anchored in the stirrup. His hand had even accidentally grazed the front of her jacket earlier and he hadn’t batted an eye.

“The wind has picked up. It’ll be chilly riding back down. You ought to keep this around you.” He offered the blanket, and as if reading her mind, added, “We’ll take it nice and easy.”

“Thank you,” she said and exchanged Rambo’s reins for the blanket.

Jesse swung up into his saddle and nudged the gelding into the lead. The horse hadn’t advanced more than two feet when Jesse reined him in again. He eyed the struggle she was having with the blanket. Folding it in half made it more manageable as a shawl, but the wool was thick and heavy, and she was afraid she’d lose it halfway down the hill.

“Here.” He leaned over and helped her arrange the blanket so that her shoulders and arms were covered, yet she could still keep a firm grip.

She sighed. “You must think I’m twelve.”

He gave her that slow, easy smile of his. “Trust me, that’s not what I think.”

She didn’t understand her reaction. It was physical, tense, but not like being trapped. And then there was the oddly pleasant apprehension in the pit of her stomach. Maybe it was the way his voice had lowered or the way his gaze roamed her face then lingered briefly on her lips. They were chapped. He was probably about to tell her to pick up some medicated balm while she was in town.

His eyes met hers, and he wasn’t smiling anymore. “Ready?”

Nodding, she stared at the slight tic in his jaw and hoped she hadn’t somehow annoyed him. She waited for him to go first and concentrated on clutching both the reins and the blanket. It was useless to try to figure out what had just happened. She was horrible at that sort of thing. Computer glitches? She was a whiz. But human glitches, she was better off ignoring.

When he reached the bottom of the slope he turned around and waited for her. That only made her more self-conscious and she wished he’d kept going. “Okay?” he asked.

“Fine.”

“You can give Gypsy her head. She’ll follow Rambo until we get to flatter ground.”

Shea smiled.

“You still laughing at my horse’s name?”

“It is funny.”

“You’re gonna hurt his feelings.”

“With a name like Rambo? I don’t think so.”

Jesse laughed. It was a great sound. He leaned back and adjusted his hat while he watched her and Gypsy finish tackling the descent.

“You’re making me nervous,” she finally admitted. “Keep going. You don’t have to wait.”

“Yeah, I do, but I won’t watch. How’s that?” he said, amusement in his voice as he wheeled his horse around.

She darted a look from the rocky snow-dusted ground to his broad shoulders. “Not much better,” she murmured.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” She held her breath until she and Gypsy were safely down the slope and standing beside Jesse.

He eyed the blanket that was again sagging off her back but he made no move to fix it. Crazily, she wished that he would. It was only curiosity, an experiment to see if she felt anything from him touching her again.

Her gaze was drawn to the shallow cleft in his chin, already dark with stubble. The flutter picked up, right behind her breastbone, and suddenly she was anxious to get back to the Sundance. To be in her car and away from the bewildering McAllisters.

Away from Jesse.

5

ARMED WITH BOTH a GPS and written directions, early the next morning Shea drove down the narrow bumpy highway toward Safe Haven. Sadly, she’d already finished the coffee from the to-go mug Rachel had fixed her. Although she would’ve loved more caffeine, the never-ending potholes and misty dimness around her were enough to keep her hands firmly gripping the wheel and her eyes wide and alert.

Only when she saw the sign for the Safe Haven turnoff did she feel comfortable reaching for the cheese crackers in her purse. She was starving. Last night’s dinner had consisted of a diet cola she’d picked up in town along with her new gloves and thermal underwear. Rachel had tried to get her to join the family for dinner but Shea had refused, and while she’d turned down the full breakfast Rachel had offered, she had grabbed a warm muffin on the way out.

It wasn’t about not being a bother anymore. She worried that it would’ve been awkward seeing Jesse. More than likely the problem was in her head. They’d had a perfectly nice ride yesterday. She couldn’t have asked for a more courteous guide. They’d even talked a little on the way back. Nothing major, small talk, really… Which, come to think of it, was kind of major since she was so notoriously bad at it that she tried her best to keep to herself.

After inhaling the crackers, she nibbled away at her muffin as she searched for signs of the shelter. The land was flat out here to the east of town. There were a few trees and scrub brush but nothing like she’d seen on her ride with Jesse. At least it was easy to see what was coming up ahead, especially now that the sky was lightening up. She was licking the last crumbs from her fingers when she saw the big weathered barn. Two smaller wooden buildings sat off to the side, and Shea thought she could see the words Safe Haven etched on a plank stuck to a post.

Slowing the vehicle, she made the turn and pulled the rental alongside an old green pickup splattered with mud. Another truck was parked closer to the gate, but that was it, no sign anyone else was around. Of course, she was early.

“Welcome.”

She heard someone calling to her even before she closed the car door.

“Over here. By the barn.” The woman was tall and lean, her blond hair pulled into a long ponytail that swung back and forth as she waved her gloved hand. She wore badly faded jeans patched at the knees and a heavy brown parka that had a tear near the shoulder.

Shea acknowledged her with a reciprocal wave, then pocketed her keys. Deciding to leave her purse on the floorboard of the car, she met the woman halfway. “Are you Annie?”

“I am. And I bet you’re one of our new volunteers.” Annie pulled off a glove and extended her hand. “Shea Monroe, I’m guessing.”

“You’re right.” Shea couldn’t say why, but she’d expected someone older. Annie looked to be in her late twenties, maybe thirty, and so friendly that Shea didn’t hesitate to shake the woman’s hand.

“I cheated.” Annie grinned. “The other two volunteers called to say they’d be an hour late.”

“Ah.” She smiled back, wondering if the Montana air had something to do with her newfound ease. “And here I’m early. Hope it isn’t a problem.”

“Are you kidding? I never turn down help with chores.” She studied Shea for a moment, glancing at her jeans and boots. “I don’t suppose you brought a pair of work gloves with you.”

“Oh… I did.” She dug the keys out of her pocket and used the remote to unlock the Toyota’s rear door. The gloves were still in the package but she removed them, then used her teeth to break through the binding plastic ring. “I bought them in town yesterday. Jesse suggested I’d need something better than what I’d brought with me.”

“Jesse?” Annie said, her brows arched in surprise.

“Jesse McAllister.” Shea felt funny suddenly. Though she hadn’t said anything wrong… she didn’t think.… “I’m staying at the Sundance.”

“That’s right. Rachel mentioned it. You won’t meet a nicer family.”

“They’ve been wonderful. I hate that I’m imposing but I was desperate.” She walked with Annie toward the barn, taking an extra step every few feet in order to keep up with Annie’s mile-long legs.

“I’ve only known the McAllisters for two years, but I doubt you’re intruding. Number one, they’re very supportive of the shelter and are happy you’re volunteering. And secondly, if you got Jesse to talk long enough to recommend gloves, then I’m sure they all love you to pieces.” Annie stopped to pick up the bucket she’d left in the entryway of the barn. “If you don’t mind, I’ll wait until Molly and Hank, the other volunteers, arrive before I give a tour.”

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