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“I’d rather have a glass of juice, if you don’t mind. And under the circumstances, let’s call it a debriefing. We can also create a game plan for tomorrow—or set up a calendar for trading off meal duties. But to tell you the truth, I don’t mind cooking. I’m not fond of cleaning up, though.”
If he was being honest with himself, as well as with her, he’d rather create a game plan for tonight, complete with romantic music, maybe a slow dance under the stars. But Juliana had put a stop to that by setting them both back on track. And he ought to thank his lucky stars that she had. Sexual harassment training was a priority for everyone in upper management at Rayburn Energy, and he’d best keep that in mind.
He offered her a platonic smile—his best attempt at one, anyway. “You’re right. That’s what I meant. Grab two goblets, then make yourself comfortable on one of those chairs on the porch. I’ll get the wine and juice.”
Moments later, he took the uncorked bottle of wine and a quart of orange juice outside. After filling their glasses, he took a seat, joining her under the soft yellow glow of the porch light.
He took a sip of his merlot and glanced at the barn door with the chipped paint and broken hinge that dusk couldn’t hide. He’d have to ask Ian McAllister, the foreman, to fix that next. Then they’d have to paint it, along with the corral nearest the house.
Juliana glanced out onto the ranch, which still needed so much work to be the kind of place Granny had called home, a ranch she’d be proud of if she were still alive.
He tried to look at the family homestead through Juliana’s eyes. He was going to have to hire more hands than Ian to help out around here. It was going to take an army to get it back into shape, even though they had only a handful of cattle left in the south forty.
So why hadn’t he recruited those extra men yet? Why was he dragging his feet?
“What are you going to do with the Leaning R?” Juliana asked.
“Granny wanted me, Braden and Carly to run it as three equal partners, but I can’t see how we can do that.” Jason reached for the bottle of juice and replenished her glass. “Unlike most siblings, Braden, Carly and I never agree on anything—the food we eat, the clothes we wear, the books we read.”
Even their memories of childhood and Daddy Dearest were as different as the three women who’d given birth to them.
Since Jason was the only one who didn’t have a mother, he’d been closer to their father. Not that he and his dad had done any of the usual father-son activities, like playing catch or going camping. His father had been way too busy with his corporate obligations.
Interestingly enough, they both attended charity functions benefiting the Boys Club and other youth programs, to which Charles and Jason both contributed financially. It was, he supposed, the closest they came to having a typical relationship. But Jason wouldn’t complain. He shared more with his dad than either Carly or Braden did. And while he hadn’t cried when he’d gotten word that his father had died in a car accident in Mexico a few months back, he’d still grieved.
Jason and Juliana sat quietly for a while, lost in the night sounds on a ranch that had seemed like a ghost town when Jason had arrived last week.
When he’d driven up that first day, there hadn’t been any cattle grazing in the pastures along the road, no Australian heeler named Mick to greet him. The barn, once painted a bright red, had weathered over the years and was in such disrepair that instead of asking Ian to take care of it, he’d thought he probably ought to hire a carpenter or two.
But it wasn’t until he’d noted the boarded-up windows on the house, unlocked the front door and entered the living room that the old adage struck him and he had to agree.
You really couldn’t go home again.
Whenever he’d visited the Leaning R before, he’d always expected to catch the aroma of fried chicken or roast beef or maybe apple spice cake—whatever Granny had been cooking or baking that day. But this time he’d been accosted by the musty smell of dust and neglect.
The first thing he’d done was to pry the boards off the first-floor windows and let in the morning sun. Then he’d called a cleaning service out of Wexler to put the place back to rights—or at least, as close to it as possible.
Jason had only spent school breaks and summer vacations on the Leaning R, but it had been his one constant. And the one place that held his warmest childhood memories.
Still, his plan was to put it on the market before summer was out—if he could get both Carly and Braden to sign the listing agreement. He hadn’t expected an argument from Carly, but he’d gotten one. And he expected one from Braden—whenever the erstwhile rancher finally showed up. Then again, he’d never been sure about anything when it came to his half brother. The two of them were only three years apart, but they’d kept each other at arm’s length for as long as Jason could remember.
Granny had tried to encourage a friendship whenever Braden came to visit, which was usually on Christmas or holidays. But Braden had a mother and family of his own. Maybe that was why Jason sometimes resented him coming around.
Either way, Granny couldn’t create a closeness between the brothers that wasn’t meant to be.
But why stress about any of that when he had pretty Juliana seated beside him?
He took another sip of merlot, savoring the taste.
“So what’re your plans after this?” he asked. “What’s next for you?”
“I’m going to get a job in the city—Houston, maybe.”
“Not Wexler?”
“No.” The word came out crisp, cool. Decisive.
Hmm. Bad memories?
She’d been laid off, Carly had said, and was only back in Brighton Valley temporarily.
Financial problems? Bad investments? Taken advantage of by a con man? Or maybe a lover?
It was too soon to ask. Still, he couldn’t help wondering.
Either way, Wexler’s loss was his gain. Or so it seemed, especially when he was sitting outside with a beautiful woman and finding even more solace under the stars.
There was also a lovers’ moon out tonight, casting a romantic glow over the Leaning R. His hormones and libido were pumped and taunting him to make more out of their time on the porch than a quiet chat, but common sense wouldn’t let him.
Juliana had made it clear that she didn’t want to cross any professional boundaries. What if she quit and left him alone to deal with the mess by himself?
He stole a glance at her, and when he caught her looking his way, she quickly averted her gaze. But as his attraction and interest continued to build, he realized it wouldn’t take much for him to reach out and touch her.
Or, at the very least, to ask her why she was adamant about not returning to Wexler.
* * *
Juliana hadn’t meant to stare at her employer, but he’d been so deep in thought that she couldn’t help it.
Okay, so she hadn’t just noted the intensity in his furrowed brow. She’d also been checking out his profile and the way his hair appeared to have an expensive cut, yet was stylishly mussed. In that Western wear—the worn jeans and chambray shirt rolled at the forearms—he looked like a Texas rancher. And a handsome one at that.
She tried to imagine him in a designer suit, seated at a board meeting in a high-rise building that looked out at the city skyline. He surely had to be quite impressive. Either way, Jason Rayburn was the kind of man who could turn a woman’s head.
He’d certainly turned hers. But she didn’t dare let her attraction get out of hand.
“Would you like some more OJ?” he asked.
“No, thank you. I’ve had plenty already.” In her condition, she had to use the bathroom a lot more than usual. And after all the orange juice she’d had already, she’d be lucky if she could make it through the night without waking at least once.
“This probably isn’t any of my business,” he said, “but do you mind if I ask you something?”
She’d always been fairly open and up-front, although she’d learned to be a lot more cautious recently. “It depends on what you want to know.”
“I get the idea you’d like to relocate. I can see why you might want to live in a bigger city. But I also sense that you couldn’t leave Wexler fast enough. And that it might be due to bad memories.”
She stiffened and leaned back in her chair. Her hand slipped protectively to her tummy. Instead of removing it, which she did whenever she’d found herself doing so in public, she opted to let it linger in the yellow glow of the porch light, allowing her baby the loving caress it deserved. “You’re right.”
“About the bad memories?”
“That the reasons aren’t ones I want to share.”
Silence stretched between them like a balloon she’d blown too full. Just before the tension popped in her face, she added, “But yes, there are some bad memories, too.”
“Related to your employment?”
The man didn’t quit, did he? She turned to him, caught his eyes drilling into hers. Why the sudden inquisition? Shouldn’t his questions about her background and previous employment have come up earlier?
Did she owe her new employer, albeit a temporary one, an answer to that line of questioning?
Maybe and maybe not. But a brief yet truthful response might help to quell his curiosity and put this awkward discussion to rest.
“Yes and no,” she said. “But if it eases your mind, I didn’t lie or steal. And when I left on my last day at work, my personnel file was unblemished. I wasn’t fired or laid off, though. I actually quit. If they have any complaints about me as an employee, it’s that I didn’t give a proper notice.”
He nodded, and before he could quiz her any further, she added, “Just so you’ll feel better about hiring me and trusting me with your family business, I had a romance that went south rather suddenly, and I wanted to put as much distance between the two of us as I could. Brighton Valley is just a pit stop before I take off for good.”
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“About my breakup?”
“About quizzing you and making you feel uncomfortable. But for the record, I’m actually glad you left the guy and his memory behind.”
A slight smile tugged at her lips, but she tried to tamp it down. All she needed was to lower her guard to the point of doing or saying something she’d regret. And if she’d learned anything out here in the moonlight, she was going to have to stay on her toes around a man like Jason Rayburn.
If he were like his brother, it wouldn’t be an issue. She knew Braden as well as she knew anyone in Brighton Valley. His mother’s family had been ranching in these parts for years. His grandfather was on the town council for a while. And his mom was involved in the women’s auxiliary at the Wexler Community Church. He came from decent people. In fact, she often wondered what his mom had ever seen in his father—especially if what she’d heard about Charles Rayburn was true.
In spite of herself, Juliana risked another glance at Jason, watched him take a drink of his wine, then stare out into the night sky, where a full moon and a splatter of stars glistened overhead.
But the stars weren’t the only things sparking. Her pregnancy hormones were surely coming into play and had to be triggering unwelcome romantic thoughts, which were totally inappropriate. She blamed it on her recent betrayal, the stillness of the evening and, yes, maybe a growing attraction.
For all those reasons, she couldn’t continue to sit outside with him tonight. It could only lead to trouble—or at the very least, temptation.
She had a job to do—one that paid better than could be expected. And she intended to make the best of it.
Even if she didn’t land an interview or a possible position with Rayburn Energy or Rayburn Enterprises, she could use a good recommendation, because she wasn’t likely to get a very good one from the gallery.
In fact, after the details of her romance and breakup became known within local art circles—and they certainly could have by now—she knew better than to ask for any kind of reference at all.
Chapter Three (#ulink_86bb5d18-019d-5302-a7ab-9cbec0295d03)
Juliana had lost track of how many sheep had jumped over her bed that night—surely a flock that would make a Basque sheepherder rich.
Blaming the two goblets of orange juice she’d drunk while on the porch with Jason for her need to get up every couple of hours, she gave up the struggle for sleep just after midnight. She remembered reading somewhere that warm milk might help, but there wasn’t any in the refrigerator. Chamomile tea was another option, although she didn’t recall seeing anything like that in the pantry.
A trip to the market was definitely in order, especially if she was going to do any more cooking while she was on the Rayburn ranch. Since she was wide-awake, she figured she might as well head to the kitchen and start a grocery list.
With that in mind, she rolled out of bed and pulled her robe from the closet. She didn’t bother with slippers. As she took a moment to stroke the slight bulge of her womb, she pondered the phrase barefoot and pregnant.
How fitting was that?
As she opened the door, she noticed the light on in the den. Had Jason forgotten to turn it off when he went to bed?
She padded down the hall. When she turned into the doorway, she spotted him seated at the desk, glaring into the screen of his laptop. She studied him for a moment.
He’d run his fingers through his hair numerous times this evening. Yet even mussed, it didn’t appear the least bit scruffy. Compliments of a highly paid stylist, no doubt.
He frowned as he stared at his laptop, his brow furrowed. Yet even the intensity of his expression didn’t take away from his appeal.
She had no idea how long she stood there gazing at him, admiring his handsome profile, as well as his work ethic. A couple of minutes, she supposed.
Finally, he looked up and noticed her watching him in the doorway. “I’m sorry. Did I wake you?”
She smiled. “I never really went to sleep. What are you doing?”
“Problem solving. At least, that’s what I’m trying to do. We’re working on a marketing strategy that hasn’t been coming together for us, and I’ve been racking my brain to figure out what’s missing.”
“I wish I could help.”
“So do I, but the best brains at Rayburn Energy, including the head of the marketing department, haven’t been able to agree on the best layout.” He pushed away from the desk. “I’m not sure if I should put on a pot of coffee or call it a night.”
“I’d think caffeine is the last thing you need right now.”
He tossed her a boyish grin. “You’re probably right. Too bad we don’t have any ice cream or cookies.”
“I’ll put dessert on my grocery list. That is, if you want me to do any shopping for meals tomorrow.”
“I hadn’t thought that far ahead, but now that you mention it, I suppose we’ll have to find time to eat during the day. I don’t mind calling out for food, but if you want to pick up groceries, that’s fine with me.”
“We can play it by ear. But I’ll whip up something for dinner tomorrow.” She glanced at the clock and smiled. “Make that tonight. So what’ll it be? Chocolate or vanilla?”
“If you’re talking ice cream, let’s go with rocky road. I like nuts.”
“I’ll keep that in mind as I start that list.” She reached for the black leather cup on top of the desk that held pencils and pens. “Do you have any paper?”
He took a pad that rested near the laptop and handed it to her. “Here you go.” Then he returned his gaze to the screen that had him so perplexed.
“Can I take a look at it?” she asked. “Maybe I can help.”
Jason bit back a smile, which had been better than the chuckle that almost slipped out. The problem had stymied experienced execs with MBAs. Juliana had no experience in the business world.
Okay, so she’d worked as a sales clerk at an art gallery in Wexler. But still, she didn’t have the background that would provide her with the experience or the expertise she needed to actually know what she’d be looking for.
But what the hell.
He rolled back his chair, making room for her to see the screen. Then, using the mouse, he showed her the latest artwork and the graphics the marketing department had sent him earlier this evening.
“I see what you mean,” she said. “Something’s definitely missing. It doesn’t have any spark.”
She had that right. And while everyone knew something was missing, no one seemed to know quite what that something was.
