Ally Blake - New Year, New Man - A Kiss on Crimson Ranch / The Dance Off / The Right Mr. Wrong

“She doesn’t hate you,” Sara argued as she stood and gathered her things.

“This morning after you and April left I asked her to help me feed the horses. You would have thought I was waterboarding her.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I thought all girls loved horses.”

“Not all,” she clarified.

“Thanks, I’ve got that now. One of the mares sniffed her and she freaked out. I laughed a little.”

“You laughed at her?”

He smacked the heel of his hand to his forehead. “So shoot me. I didn’t mean it. She threw a bucket of grain at me, screamed that she hated the ranch, she hated her mother and most of all she hated me. My dad would have whipped my butt if I’d thrown a fit like that.”

“What did you do?”

“Nothing. She ran back to the house. I finished in the barn and came here.”

Sara led the way out of the library and into the warm afternoon air. She glanced up at the bright blue sky, still surprised at how much this small mountain town resembled a movie set. “She doesn’t hate you,” she repeated.

“Did you hear anything I just said?” Josh asked, his face incredulous.

“She’s a teenager. Hormones running rampant and in a new place with a parent she barely knows. Give her time.”

He looked like he wanted to argue then took a breath. “Time. Right. When are you coming back?”

Sara checked her watch. “I’m supposed to meet April in a half hour.”

“What’s the deal with the two of you? She was willing to follow you to Crimson and seems happy to do her part at the ranch. That’s quite the package deal.”

“I don’t know much about the rodeo circuit, but in Hollywood finding someone who truly cares is a rarity.” Sara took a breath before continuing. “I met April about the time my career was starting to tank and my personal life was just as messed up. She stuck with me through the bad stuff, and I did the same with her when she had her own troubles. She doesn’t belong in L.A. anymore. If a summer at the ranch can help her see that, all of this would be worth it. She deserves happiness more than anyone I know.”

He studied her for several moments. She struggled not to fidget under his scrutiny. “You’re a good friend,” he said finally.

“Oh, I’m the bee’s knees, and don’t you forget it.” She laughed, trying to ignore the intensity of his gaze. “I need to stop by that clothing store at the end of the block. My L.A. wardrobe doesn’t really work here.”

Josh took a long look at the outfit she wore today. A shapeless black-and-white-striped sweater dress over skintight black jeans that zipped from knee to ankle. Her shoes, Converse trainers, were at least more practical than the heeled boots she’d worn yesterday. Without the heels, she was pixie-size, and if it wasn’t for the heavy makeup lining her eyes and dark wine-colored lipstick, she might have passed for a teenager herself.

A lock of neon hair slipped from her newsboy cap, and she tucked it behind her ear. Josh’s gaze locked on the soft blond wisps at the base of her neck, and he was momentarily fascinated to imagine her natural honey color.

That was the kind of woman he was drawn to: natural, sweet and compliant. A woman who’d bake pies from scratch with strawberries fresh from the garden. The kind of woman he could grow old with, reveling in a normal, boring, run-of-the-mill Ozzie and Harriett life. Not a bitter, bossy, snappish former diva.

No attraction to that type.

Not at all.

He fell in step beside her.

“You mean Feathers and Threads?” Other than T-shirt shops and the fishing shop, which sold outdoor gear, that was the only women’s clothing store in town.

“I prefer to think of it as Cowgirl Duds R Us.”

He chuckled. “It’s not bad. Do you think you could help me pick out something for Claire? Maybe a necklace or earrings?”

She slanted him a curious look.

“A peace offering. For this morning.”

“Buying your way out of the doghouse?”

“Whatever it takes.” They reached the end of the block. “I need to stop in at the fly shop first. I ordered vests and waders for the ranch.”

She didn’t slow her pace. “See you in a few.”

He watched her walk away and couldn’t help but notice that the way her hips swayed under the striped dress was all woman.

Damn.

The bells over the door of Feathers and Threads chimed as he walked in fifteen minutes later. He glanced around but didn’t see Sara. Maybe she was in the dressing room.

“Hey, Rita,” he called to the shop’s owner, who stood behind the counter with a young salesgirl and a cluster of customers.

He’d brought Claire here when she’d first arrived in town. His daughter had taken one look at the racks and announced she’d be buying her clothes from the Hollister website. The morning after, he’d taken Rita to coffee as an apology for Claire’s rudeness.

Too bad she’d read more into that than he’d meant. She’d all but suggested a quickie in the back room of the store. When he’d refused, she’d still found excuses to stop by the ranch several times, dropping off sparkly tops and hand-knit sweaters for Claire. To his relief, Claire had kept her snide comments to herself, and he’d been able to avoid Rita as much as possible. That was another reason he wanted to come in here at the same time as Sara—someone to distract Rita.

“Hi, Josh,” she cooed. “Can I help you with something?”

“I’m picking up a gift for Claire. I’ll look around.”

“Let me know if you have questions,” she answered and turned back to her conversation.

He silently congratulated himself and headed toward the jewelry case at the back of the store. Rita and her gaggle of customers laughed softly as he walked by. Snippets of conversation drifted his way.

“...rode hard and put away wet.”

“No wonder she can’t get work. Who’d want to see that on the big screen?”

“Is it just me or has she had her lips done?”

“Doesn’t belong in Crimson, that’s for sure.”

Josh concentrated on the necklaces as unease skated around his chest. He glanced in the small mirror above the jewelry case and spotted Sara standing behind a sale rack.

As Josh turned toward the group of women, the conversation behind the counter continued, louder now. The women made no attempt to be discreet.

“I read she was into drugs for a while,” one of the customers offered, bending forward so that Josh got too much of a view of her ample backside.

Eyes widened within the group. “Did you see track marks?”

“I can’t get past those raccoon eyes,” another woman said with a snicker.

“It looks like she hasn’t seen the sun in years,” Rita answered. “Maybe we should send her down to Nell’s salon for a makeover.”

Maybe you should shut your mouth, Josh thought. He glanced at Sara in the mirror, expecting to see steam rising from her ears. He was surprised she hadn’t come out swinging already. Instead, he watched her swipe under her eyes and return a blouse to the rack, her hand shaking a bit.

“I wouldn’t wish that hot mess on anyone,” the younger salesgirl said, sending the other women into peals of laughter.

Josh felt his blood pressure rise along with the volume of giggles. He looked back to Sara, and her gaze met his in the mirror. For a single moment her eyes were unguarded and he saw pain, raw and real, in their depths. She blinked and shuttered them, turning the glare he’d come to know so well on him in full force. She shook her head slightly and backed away from the clothes rack.

Now, he thought. Cut them down now. She turned to a display of knit tops and picked one out at random. He watched her carry it to the front of the store. The women looked her up and down, not hiding their judgment and contempt.