Claire McEwen

More Than a Rancher


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“I do need help with the planning! But guess I did have a feeling, when we talked on the phone, that things weren’t going well. You always get hyper-cheerful when things are bad. Like you’re trying your hardest to pretend they don’t exist. So I figured I’d steal you away from your troubles for a weekend.”

      “I don’t know if you can truly steal me from my troubles, Sam. They’re in my genes, I think! I mean, my mom puts up with my dad’s cheating. I’m a natural hereditary magnet for infidelity.”

      “That’s ridiculous. Maybe you’re just too nice. You tend to believe the best about everyone.”

      Jenna smiled ruefully. “You are very kind. But that’s the old Jenna. The post-Jeff version of Jenna is going to make sure to believe the worst.”

      “No!” Samantha said laughingly. “I like my sweet friend. Don’t let one flaky musician change you.”

      “Well, I have to do something different,” Jenna said. “Obviously my old ways aren’t working.”

      “So let’s think of a plan that will keep you safe from cheaters.” Samantha was all business now. “Okay, this is the first guideline—no one who has been unfaithful. What do you think?”

      Jenna smiled reluctantly. “That seems pretty obvious, so yeah.”

      “And maybe you should rule out musicians. All those groupies are just too tempting.”

      “Okay, no musicians,” Jenna agreed. After Jeff she had no problem giving up that particular category of men.

      “You know,” Samantha said, “you do seem to go for these artsy types. Which makes sense because you’re an artist, too. But what about trying something different? San Francisco is full of all kinds of high-tech semi-nerdy, semi-creative types these days, right?”

      “Well, yeah.” Jenna could feel the resentment in her stomach. “They make tons of money and they’re driving up the rents on all the apartments like you wouldn’t believe!”

      “But that doesn’t mean they’re bad people. Someone like that might be perfect for you. Maybe another guideline should be—”

      Jenna didn’t mean to cut off her friend, but the scrutiny of her love life was too much. Maybe she was just too raw after Jeff. Maybe it was a little too close to the advice her parents insisted on handing out at every opportunity. So she interrupted. “Okay, so no cheaters, musicians or artsy types. But mostly, I think I’m just going to take a break from being in a relationship.”

      “But—” Samantha began.

      “Sam, you’re in love. And it’s amazing! You found an awesome guy and you two will live happily ever after. And I know you want me to have the same thing. And who knows? Maybe I will someday. But right now I think this whole thing with Jeff was a sign.”

      “A sign?” Jenna could see Samantha trying not to laugh. “You think everything is some kind of sign!”

      “Not everything. But Jeff’s cheating is clearly a sign that I shouldn’t be in a relationship right now. I need to focus on my work and my dancing—without worrying about men.”

      “Okay, okay.” Samantha bit her lip and studied Jenna closely, characteristically unsatisfied with her inability to make everything better. “I’m sorry if I overstepped.” She turned to look at the horses. “I’m just happy, Jen,” she said quietly. “And I want you to be, too.”

      “I am happy,” Jenna said, moving so she stood next to Samantha. She looked at the horses grazing and the mountains unfolding behind them. The sun had sunk below the peaks and just the crags at the very top were lit up golden. A breeze shuffled through, chilling her skin. “When I’m dancing, I’m happy.”

      “Well, that’s good to hear. You dance a lot, so that means you’re happy a lot.” Samantha must have felt the chill, too, because she shivered. “Let’s go in. I forgot to tell you, Jack has something really amazing planned for dinner.”

      With one last look at the peaceful pasture, Jenna turned to follow her friend back to the house. For the first time in a week, she felt as if she was walking on solid ground. It might be hard to help plan a wedding right now, but Jenna was glad she was in this beautiful place, with the love and support of her best friend. There was comfort here, and she was grateful for any scrap of it she could get.

      “JACK’S OPENING A RESTAURANT?” Jenna stood in front of the mirror in the elegant guest bathroom, staring at the dark circles under her eyes. She took another sip of the cappuccino she’d begged Jack to make her.

      “Investing in it.” Samantha looked up from her exploration of Jenna’s makeup bag. “You always have the best stuff. Sparkly mascara? And look at this eye shadow—it’s turquoise!”

      “Well, you know how ballroom dancers are. We love our makeup. The more outrageous, the better!” Jenna yawned, trying to cover it with her arm. She picked up her lip liner and repaired her ruby-red lips. She rarely went anywhere without makeup, and bright red lipstick was one of her essentials. It made her feel like a 1940s movie star.

      Samantha set the bag down. “Anyway, his friend, who’s going to be the co-owner and chef, wants to come cook us all dinner and try out some stuff for the menu. But I think you’re too tired. I’ll tell Jack to reschedule.”

      “No, don’t,” Jenna said quickly. “I don’t want to cause a hassle when you guys have set this up already.”

      “We can do it another night.”

      “The poor chef has probably been prepping food all day.” Jenna dabbed some concealer under her eyes. “There. I’ll just cover up the evidence and be good as new.”

      “If you’re sure,” Samantha said. “I promise that tomorrow we’ll spend the entire day in our pajamas. You can sleep in, we’ll look at magazines and then we’ll go to bed as early as you want.”

      “Deal,” Jenna said, adding on a little blush before turning around. “So let’s go down to dinner. Here I was, thinking life on the ranch would involve some barbecue at best, and you’ve got a fancy chef coming!” Jenna laughed. “Your life is never dull, Sam.”

      “Jack keeps it interesting, always.” Samantha smiled as she spoke.

      Jenna drained her coffee cup and hooked her arm under her friend’s. “I promise that tomorrow, when we’re in our jammies, we’ll talk all about your wedding.” Maybe after a good night’s sleep she’d be able to do it without falling apart. They started down the stairs. “So who is this mysterious chef, anyways?”

      “Someone Jack knows from when he lived in New York. It turns out he grew up out here and moved back recently. He’s really excited about the restaurant. Can you imagine, four-star cuisine in Benson?”

      “Will there be anyone to eat it? This town’s like a postage stamp. Smaller. It’s like the glue on the back of a postage stamp!”

      “Jenna! It’s not that small. There are all kinds of people who live outside of town. They’ll be thrilled to have a great place to eat. Plus, we get a lot of tourists.”

      “Well, I’m impressed. Jack the restaurant entrepreneur. Is there anything that fiancé of yours doesn’t do?”

      “Well, I don’t cook.” Jack was waiting for them at the foot of the stairs with a glass of sparkling wine for each. “Or at least not well. So tonight we get to try out a few of the dishes my partner, Sandro, has been planning for the menu.”

      Jenna took the glass he offered, trading him for her coffee cup. “You might not cook but you do provide excellent drinks!”

      He laughed. “Thanks, Red. I aim to please.”

      A knock on the front door had the dogs jumping