Sunset At Keyhole Canyon: A Mustang Ridge Novella (A Penguin Special from Signet Eclipse)
Sunset at Keyhole Canyon
A Mustang Ridge Novella
Jesse Hayworth
SIGNET ECLIPSE
Published by the Penguin Group
Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street,
New York, New York 10014, USA
USA / Canada / UK / Ireland / Australia / New Zealand / India / South Africa / China
Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
For more information about the Penguin Group visit penguin.com.
First published by New American Library,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
Copyright © Jessica Andersen, 2013
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
SIGNET ECLIPSE and logo are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
E-book ISBN: 978-1-101-59660-9
PUBLISHER’S NOTE
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party Web sites or their content.
Contents
Copyright Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Excerpt from SUMMER AT MUSTANG RIDGE
Chapter One
“Hel-lo, gorgeous.” Nina pressed her nose to the window as the shuttle van turned in to the dirt parking lot, giving her an eyeful of flower-studded green hills and log cabins that looked hobbit-sized from the distance. At the edge of the parking area, a big barn sprouted fenced-in areas, where horses munched from round bales and cattle dozed in the early summer sun. In the background, huge, snowcapped mountains rose up impossibly high into a blue, blue Wyoming sky.
Wow. The Web site hadn’t even come close to how pretty Mustang Ridge Ranch was in person.
“Ahem.” Traci, a Goth jewelry designer who had become Nina’s instant new friend during the long ride from Laramie, elbowed her and pointed out the other side of the bus. “Hel-lo, gorgeouser.”
She wasn’t pointing at the big, rough-hewn main house, though, or the black-and-white border collie that stood on the porch, wagging a tongue-lolling greeting.
Nope, she was pointing at a big silver SUV, and the man who stood near the open back deck unloading luggage.
Nina didn’t get a good look at him, just a glimpse of wavy dark hair, dark glasses and the powerful swing of muscles as he shouldered a battered knapsack. He was wearing worn jeans and a snug t-shirt, and had a body worthy of a “hel-lo,” along with a straw Stetson and a rangy way of moving that drew the eye. Yum. “Think he’s one of the cowboys?”
“If so, they should really put him on the Web site under ‘come see our amazing scenery.’”
“You’ll have to suggest it to the owners.” Chuckling, Nina returned her attention to the fields and streams on her side of the bus. There was no need for her to ogle the local talent, after all. After her last few disappointing dips into the dating pool, she was taking a break.
“Ooh!” Traci squealed. “He’s looking right at me!”
The windows are tinted, Nina thought with an inner grin. He’s probably looking at the bus. But she didn’t want to spoil her new friend’s fun, so she said, “Wave at him and let’s get out there.” Ahead of them, the eighteen other guests were shuffling off the bus, spilling out onto the packed dirt of the sun-drenched parking lot and giving lots of “oohs” and “aahs” along with a few travel-weary groans.
While Traci waved at the cowboy, Nina collected her purse and brand-new straw Stetson—when in Wyoming, and all that—and they filed off.
They were the last two out. Most of the others were already headed around the side of the main house, following a gravel path and signs that pointed to the dining hall and said “WELCOME TO RUSTLERS’ WEEK! THIS WAY FOR GRUB AND ORIENTATION!”
Their driver, a twentysomething cowboy named Junior, stood up by the front of the bus. Wearing creased Wranglers, shiny boots, and a blingy belt buckle, he was easy on the eyes and young enough to make Nina feel very thirtysomething, even if it was only by a year. As they came out, he grinned and gave a wide, showy sweep of his hand. “Welcome to Mustang Ridge, ladies!”
Well, at least he hadn’t “ma’am”ed them.
“Thanks, Junior,” Nina said. “It’s breathtaking, just like you said.” He had given them a good “get excited for your week at the ranch” speech on the bus, and had pointed out some landmarks on the drive.
Then again, the scenery pretty much spoke for itself. Especially now that she had her boots on the dusty ground and her lungs full of thin, sun-warmed air that carried the scents of livestock and hay. The mountains seemed closer and taller, like they were wrapped around the ranch, nestling it in a green bowl that somehow felt both huge and very small.
“Who’s the guy with the SUV?” Traci chirped. “Is he one of the wranglers?”
“Nope,” said a deep voice from behind them. “I’m like you, just checking in. Don’t know about you ladies, but I’m looking forward to a week of riding and roping, and hopefully not hitting the dirt too many times.”
An unexpected shiver went down the back of Nina’s neck as she and Traci turned to see the newcomer rounding the back of the bus. Then a blast of hot-cold-hot shot straight to the pit of her stomach at the sight of brilliant blue eyes beneath dark, heavy brows. He had a slightly crooked aquiline nose and angular jaw, and a face that looked like something off an ancient Roman coin, rugged and beautiful at the same time. And familiar.
The breath rushed out of her in a squeak, sounding like someone had just line danced on a mouse. “Ben?”
He did a double take that would’ve been comical under any other circumstance. “Nina?”
“What are you doing here?” It came out sharper than maybe was necessary, but she hadn’t expected him. And she sure wasn’t prepared to feel an echo of the same “wheeee!” sort of roller-coaster dip she’d felt when they first met.
“Cheryl booked me for a week—” He broke off, expression darkening. “She didn’t.”
A half-hysterical bubble of laughter locked itself in Nina’s throat. “Apparently, she did.” Oh, Cheryl, what have you done? Why?
Dumb question.
“Who is Cheryl?” Traci demanded. “And what did she do?”
“She’s my sister,” Ben said flatly, “and she’s a dead woman.”
The ragged giggle broke through, because if Nina didn’t laugh, she didn’t know what she would do. “She’s a customer at my interior design store, a friend who got it in her head that I would be perfect for her brother, and vice versa. But we went out once, things didn’t click, end of story.” That was close enough, anyway. “She took it well, but when I told her I wanted to get away by myself and do something I’d never done before, she, ah, recommended Mustang Ridge.”
“And then boo
ked me a week’s vacation for my birthday, and wouldn’t take no for an answer,” he said in a tone that wasn’t quite sour, but wasn’t all that happy, either. “It looks like she set us up. Again.”
“You . . . oh, wow.” Traci looked from Nina to Ben and back again, her expression one of What are you, nuts? He’s gorgeous! And he was, even more than Nina remembered. Or maybe it was seeing him out of the city, away from both of their natural habitats, that made him seem different. Not out of place, though . . . because where her new Wranglers and shiny boots felt like a costume, his looked like old, battered friends, as if there was a whole other side of him that she hadn’t seen before.
Then again, it wasn’t like she’d gotten the chance.
“So . . .” He let it draw out. “What are we going to do about this?”
That was the question, wasn’t it? She knew they should just roll with it and have their vacations. They were both grownups, and it wasn’t like they’d had some blazing affair that had crashed and burned—they had gone out once, that was all. There shouldn’t be any awkwardness.
And if she kept telling herself that, maybe the funny churn in her stomach would settle down.
This is No. Big. Deal.
Pasting a smile on her face, she said, “I can coexist if you can. No hard feelings, right?
He studied her, expression unreadable, and nerves sparked in her belly at the thought that he was going to call her on the lie. After a moment, though, he said, “Are you sure? The way I see it, you’ve got dibs.”
She let out a relieved breath. She could do this. “I . . . yeah. What the heck.” Trying to play it mega cool and recapture the excitement she’d felt as the bus turned into the long dirt road leading to Mustang Ridge, she settled her new Stetson low on her brow and shot him a wink. “Let’s ride, cowboy.”
Chapter Two
Later that evening after orientation, a get-to-know-your-fellow-dudes session where Ben and Nina mostly avoided each other, and a family-style dinner—chicken, some killer biscuits with gravy, and enough sides to make his arteries feel like they were narrowing by the minute—Ben retreated to his cabin and made The Call.
It went straight to Cheryl’s voice mail.
Picturing his sister sitting there in her cheerfully toy-strewn living room, debating over whether or not to answer, he left a message. “I’m going to give you five minutes and call back. If you don’t pick up, I’m telling mom what happened last Fourth of July.”
He disconnected and checked his watch. They might be in their mid thirties and supposedly grown up, but he didn’t feel at all bad about the threat. She started it.
At three-and-a-half minutes, his cell rang. He answered, “Hey, sis. What a surprise!”
“You’re awful. You promised.”
“I’m awful? Hello, you shipped me out here under false pretenses.”
“You said you needed to get away from the hospital for a bit, and the ranch is the best getaway I know for finding some peace and quiet. Come on, admit it. The place is amazing.”
He glanced around at his cabin, which was a long, rustic rectangle with a sitting area at one end and a bed at the other. The raw log walls and pieces of primitive furniture were all buffed and finished to a soft, splinter-free gleam, the brightly colored bedding was top notch, and the bathroom in the corner was efficiently luxurious. Just like the other parts of the ranch he’d seen so far, the cabin hit all the right notes, making him feel pampered and rugged at the same time.
“You know darn well it’s great.” And thanks to her glowing recommendations and the fact that he’d always had a bit of a cowboy thing, he’d been thinking of booking a week himself, later in the summer. “I’m not talking about the ranch, and you know it.”
A new note crept into her voice. “You saw Nina.”
“Uh, yeah.” She was impossible to miss, with the grace of a dancer, the hips of a pinup, and a full-bodied laugh that lit her entire being. Add in the unique sense of style that had her mixing patchwork jeans with a fuzzy wine-colored sweater that clung to her like a second skin, and she was far from forgettable.
He wasn’t the only one who had noticed, either. There were three other single guys in the group, and while they hadn’t quite pounced on her during the meet-and-greet, they had done some circling. He had kept his distance, though. It was either that or chase the other guys off, and he had zero right to get territorial. Less than zero.
“How did she look?” his conniving little sister asked.
Lush. Amazing. Like she belongs out here. “Surprised, uncomfortable.” She’d been trying to hide it, but he could see how much effort she was putting into acting casual. “What’s going on here, Cher? This isn’t like you.” She might’ve set him up on the occasional blind date, but she wasn’t a meddler, wasn’t the type to put a friend in a sticky situation. “Nina and I tried and it didn’t work. Period.”
“That’s not how I remember the story.”
Frustration kicked through him, carrying an edge of something that wasn’t quite guilt, but close to it. “Okay, fine, I blew my chance. Is that what you want to hear? Fine, I said it. But I told you before and I’ll say it again—the moment is gone and we need to move on. And by ‘we’ I mean ‘you.’ ”
Her voice got smaller. “I just want you to be happy.”
Ah, heck. “I am happy, Cher. I’ve got a great place, a cool dog who’s finally getting the whole housebreaking thing, and a job I love. I earn enough that I can cover my bills, put a little away, and get involved when I see a project I like. It’s a good life.”
“But don’t you want someone to share all that with? Like an actual grown-up of the opposite sex?”
“Hello, pot? This is the kettle speaking.” Was that what this was about?
Her inelegant snort sounded like it should’ve come from someone far larger than her pixyish five-nothing. “Right. Like guys are panting after a single mom with two kids under the age of two and a perma-puke stain on her shoulder. Sorry, big bro, but that isn’t going to fly. Until Danny and Sib are older—let’s say college-aged—I’m going to be living vicariously through my friends and my favorite brother.”
“I’m your only brother.”
“Lucky you. Seriously, though, you’re a different guy than you were six months ago. Why not try it again? You said you wished things had gone differently with Nina.”
“Yeah, but if I had really wanted a do-over, I would’ve called her myself.”
“So you needed a kick in the butt. You’re welcome.” She hesitated, though, before she said, softer, “Are you mad?”
“No.” Which probably should have surprised him more than it did. “I’m . . .” He trailed off, not sure anymore what, exactly, he was.
“Uninterested?”
Now it was his turn to hesitate. “Not that, either.” Seeing Nina again . . . well, yeah. The zing was still there, big time, making him think he’d been an idiot not to make that call and see if she was the kind of girl to give a guy a second chance.
“Well, there you have it.” Triumph edged Cheryl’s tone. “Next thing you know, you’ll be telling me that I was right all along.”
“Doubt it.”
“Five bucks.”
He exhaled a laugh. “I’m not betting on this.”
“Okay, so how about you just go with the flow?”
Earlier, he’d been on the verge of packing it in and heading home, refusing to let his sister play him at Nina’s expense. But the cabin was awesome, the week was paid for, and it had been years since he’d been on a horse. And Nina had said he should stay.
Well, at least she hadn’t told him to go.
“Have you talked to her?” he asked.
“She left a message. Fortunately, she doesn’t have the kind of blackmail ammo that you do, so I can duck her calls.”
He wouldn’t ask what she’d said. He wouldn’t. “When you talk to her, I hope you’re planning on an apology. A good one.”
“If you play your car
ds right, I won’t have to apologize.”
“Cheryl. . . .” It was a warning growl.
“Okay, okay, I’ll say I’m sorry. But seriously, Ben, just roll with it for the next seven days. Ride some horses, rope some cows, and flirt with Nina. What’s the worst that can happen?”
“I fall flat on my face and break something?”
“Welcome to my world. Anyway, I’ll talk to you later. Love you, big brother.” She hung up before he could answer. Which left him staring at the phone, wondering how she had managed to box him in so neatly from a thousand miles away.
• • •
Nina usually didn’t have any trouble getting up and out in the morning when she was at home, even on the weekend. Her first day at Mustang Ridge, though, she hit the snooze one too many times—okay, three too many times—and hauled herself out of bed thirty minutes after breakfast started.
She didn’t know if it was the thin mountain air, her body going into “I’m on vacation, time to sleep in” mode, or what, but it was an effort for her to start coffee—whispering a “Thank you, God” for the little Keurig on the desk—and drag on a shirt and jeans. She got her feet into her boots while mainlining the first cup black, and after a moment the world gradually came into focus. Her vision sharpened, she stopped feeling fuzzy and out of sync, and the headache she hadn’t really admitted to went away.
Which, for better or worse, left her sitting in the pretty little cabin, with its killer view of fields, mountains, and sky, thinking that maybe she would stay there. She had a couple of books on her e-reader and she was on vacation, dang it. She could do whatever she wanted . . . except she knew darn well that wasn’t why she was tempted to hide out for the day.
She was avoiding Ben. How lame was that?
“Don’t be a wuss,” she told herself. “Go to breakfast and get it over with.”
Not that there should be any awkwardness for them to get over. They had agreed to be grown-ups about it, right?