Cowboys Down (3 page)

Everyone laughed, but when Erik’s gaze locked on him again, Jasper had the feeling he wasn’t joking.

Note to self: Don’t take phone when I go riding.

Chapter Two

Calum walked into the dining room to see Angie and Vera serving drinks to guests who chatted and milled about in front of the roaring fire. It took a lot of heat to warm a room with a cathedral ceiling. The room was impressive but their family lounge was much more cozy—well, when his father wasn’t being an ass. Temperatures were already falling under clear skies. This time of year the days were warm but the nights cold. Snow wasn’t impossible. Calum scanned the room for Jasper and didn’t see him. Disappointment tussled with relief and neither won. In any case, Calum wasn’t sure he could have made polite conversation. What did he have in common with an uptight English guy? He didn’t even know if Jasper was gay.

“He’s not here,” Calum’s father said at his ear.

“Who?” Calum hadn’t been able to help jumping. He swore sometimes his father could read his mind, but Calum put as much indifference into his voice as he could. “What are you talking about?”

“You know damn well who I’m talking about. You maneuvered your way into bringing him here in the SUV when you could have transported luggage instead. I saw the way you watched him outside. I saw him looking at you.”

Oh fuck.
Calum made sure his face showed nothing, though he knew it was a waste of time. His father didn’t trust him. Pointless explaining that Pete had loaded the luggage and that Pete had told him to take Jasper in the SUV. As far as his father was concerned, Pete was a fucking god who could do no wrong, which was why he was ranch foreman and not Calum.

“Keep away from the English guy,” his father muttered.

Calum bit his lip before he snapped something he’d regret. It hurt that his father assumed he wanted to leap on every good-looking guy who came to the ranch. Would he have reacted the same if Calum was straight?

“Chat with those pretty girls and be nice,” his father said.

Probably not.

Calum did as he was told. Gradually the long table in the dining area began to fill. Pete and the other wranglers sat down, and Ring, Pete’s son, took the seat between Melissa and Janie. That guy only had to open his mouth to annoy Calum. Often he didn’t even have to do that. Just looking at Ring put Calum in a bad mood. The slimy, sneaky, sarcastic son of a bitch took every opportunity to make trouble for him.

Vera and Angie joined them at the table. His father insisted the family and ranch hands dine with the guests. He insisted they smile about it too, and Calum tried to look happy. The kitchen help began to bring out platters of steaming roast beef, and Calum wondered what was keeping Jasper. Any moment his father would notice he was still missing and get annoyed. Staying under the radar was the best response to Erik Neilson. Not turning up for a meal or turning up late would just plain piss him off.

“Anyone seen the English guy?” asked Calum’s father in a loud voice.

Here we go.
His father looked straight at him. Calum tried to stare him down, but felt his gaze drift away.
Fuck it, and I haven’t even done anything wrong.

“I hope the damn fool’s not gone wandering off,” Pete muttered.

Calum’s stomach lurched. Might Jasper have done that, even after the warning? Had he been listening? It was all too easy for arrogant city slickers to underestimate the danger of the Wyoming wilderness, particularly when they were in search of a photo. They’d had more guests injured because they weren’t looking at what they were doing than through any other means.

But it was dark. Couldn’t take photos in the dark.

His father sighed and turned to Vera. “Which room’s he in?”

“Seven.”

Angie stood. “Want me to check on him?”

“Let Calum go,” Vera said.

Calum didn’t miss the look his father shot Vera. There was an awkward pause before his father said, “Fine.”

Calum pushed back his chair and made his way to the guest wing. As far as his father was concerned, Calum trod a line of respectability so thin it was almost invisible, which was probably why Calum kept slipping off it. He didn’t like being treated as if he were the biggest disappointment of his father’s life. He worked hard without complaining. He’d stayed there on the ranch when he could have left. What more did the man want?

Yeah, well, Calum knew the answer to that, but it was one thing he couldn’t do even if he wanted to, and he didn’t. He ran his fingers through his hair and then rapped at Jasper’s door. When there was no answer, he knocked harder.

“Jasper? You in there?”

Nothing.
Christ.
Now what was he supposed to do? What if the English guy had wandered off and gotten lost as night fell? Or fallen and injured himself? Been bitten by an annoyed snake? Mauled by a bear?

Calum tried the door and it clicked open. The light from the hallway shone on Jasper who lay on his back, fast asleep, still in the clothes he’d arrived in, tie included, though it was loosened. Calum’s breath caught in his throat. Something about watching guys sleeping that calmed him. No matter what they were really like, you could make them what you wanted them to be while they slept. Calum smiled, closed the door and returned to the dining room.

“He’s sleeping,” he told his father and sat. “Long journey, I guess.”

His father tsked.

“Angie, when you’ve done eating, put a note under his door telling him we’ve left him snack in the fridge,” Vera said. “Then make sure you remember to leave him one.”

“Okay. I’ll make him my favorite sandwich.”

“Not peanut butter and chocolate spread, sweetheart,” Vera said. “Beef would be good or there’s some chicken.”

Angie was twenty years old and a mite slow, but she had the sweetest nature. She’d come to the ranch, age eight, when her mother had married Calum’s father, and had been Calum’s shadow ever since. It hurt that his father seemed to love her more than he’d ever loved his son, but Calum couldn’t begrudge Angie that affection.
Shouldn’t.

“So folks,” his father said, addressing the table. “Looks like our English guy’s tuckered out already and he hasn’t even been on a horse yet.”

There was a burst of laughter and Calum prickled with annoyance. Jasper had been travelling for over a day and Jackson Hole was seven hours behind London time, which meant it was two in the morning as far as the guy’s body clock was concerned.

“How about we stand up and introduce ourselves,” his father said. “You already know who I am, but I’ll start us off. Erik Nielson. Owner of the Neilson Ranch. This spread belonged to my father and my grandfather before him and one day it will be Calum and Angie’s.”

And why did that feel like a noose around his neck? Calum had known since he was a small boy that this was his life, all mapped out for him, but as much as the place was in his blood, he wanted staying here to be his decision, not his father’s. There was a world out there he’d never seen and he resented the fact that his father didn’t care.

The wranglers stood up one after the other, mumbled their names and sat down again. The first of the guests to speak was the newly married guy. He had one of those faces that always seemed to be smiling. “I’m Brad Olsen and this is my wife, Nita. We’re from LA. We’ve been married for seven weeks, one day and,” he checked his watch, “three hours. I’m a lawyer and Nita’s a realtor, so if you need a house in California, talk to us.”

The husband of the other couple stood. “Sam West and my wife, Judy. From Tucson. I run a greenhouse business. Judy doesn’t work.” He sat down.

“We have three kids,” Judy hissed. “That’s work.”

“You make it work,” he snapped back.

Oh God. Calum hoped he didn’t have to take this pair out tomorrow.

“How about the two beauties at the end of the table?” his father asked.

“I’m Melissa Saxon. This is my best friend Janie Dunmore. We’re from LA too. We don’t have jobs yet, but we do have wealthy daddies.” She giggled.

The wranglers were going to love them. Spoiled rich girls with more money than sense. The grin on Ring’s face widened.

“I paint,” Janie said.

Calum perked up. She might want to spend an afternoon painting. He could take her to the place he liked to draw.

Melissa snorted. “Squares and circles. You haven’t sold anything yet.”

Calum swallowed his sigh. More bickering.

“Better not get any ideas about not working, Angie,” his father said. “If you don’t do your chores, you don’t get paid.”

Angie’s pretence of pouting made Calum’s heart ache.

“I’m Matt Taylor from New York. I own an air-conditioning company. Married, two kids.”

“Paul Kenyon. I run a modeling agency in New York. Divorced, no kids.”

Calum chuckled to himself as Melissa and Janie straightened up and smiled in Paul’s direction with perfect white teeth. The grin had fallen off Ring’s face. He wasn’t going to be much competition for a guy who ran a modeling agency.

“Our absent guest’s name is Jasper Randolph,” said Calum’s father. “He’s from London, England. You’ll have to ask him what he does for a living when he’s not lazing around in bed.”

“He saved my life on the plane.”

In the silence that followed Melissa’s announcement, Calum’s jaw dropped along with several others.

“She was choking,” Janie said. “Coughing and coughing. She couldn’t breathe. It was so frightening.”

Melissa glared at her. “My story.” She milked the moment as everyone looked at her. “I couldn’t get air into my lungs. Jasper did the Hind…lick maneuver and out popped the yogurt-coated cranberry and I breathed again.”

“Good for him.” Calum’s father struggled to keep a straight face. The guys from New York and a couple of the wranglers didn’t even try.

“Have any of you ridden before?” Vera asked in a loud voice and glared at the sniggering ranch hands.

Apparently, they all had, though Calum knew they’d have to go through an assessment tomorrow. No way would the horses be put at risk through hotshot riding. A know-it-all attitude would get guests a week on an old horse for beginners. Calum wondered what sort of a rider the Englishman was.

What sort of ride he’d be?

Shit.

Jasper looked at the clock on the bedside table and groaned. If he didn’t get this jet lag sorted out fast, he’d miss all the evening meals. Once he’d reached his room, he’d shaved, decided to close his eyes for a few minutes before he checked his emails, and now it was almost three in the morning. He rolled off the bed, looked at his creased clothes and managed a grin. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d fallen asleep still dressed.
I’m off to a good start in loosening up.

He spotted a piece of paper by the door and padded over. A snack had been left in the fridge. His stomach rumbled. He needed a shower and to check his messages, but that could be delayed until he’d had something to eat.
Wow, I
am
lightening up.

According to the agenda, breakfast was at eight. It was a long while to wait when the last decent meal he’d had was dinner the night before he set off. Jasper put on his shoes, slipped out of the room, wandered along dimly lit corridors and eventually stumbled across the kitchen. He found a plate of sandwiches in the fridge along with water and soda. He took the water.

Jasper pushed open the front door, intending to sit on one of the rockers, but sucked in a breath at the chilly air. Maybe he’d stay inside.

“The one on the left creaks,” a voice said, and Jasper almost dropped everything.

Calum sat in a rocker on the other side of the door, wearing his Stetson, booted feet with spurs attached propped up on the rail of the porch. Jasper’s cock tried to unfurl.
Oh dear God, is this going to happen every time I look at this guy?
Nevertheless, he banished thoughts of going back indoors. If his teeth started to chatter, he’d stuff the sandwich in his mouth.

“The one next to you okay?” Jasper asked, relieved those few words came out without a squeak.

“Yep.”

Jasper settled on it and put the water on the deck. “I missed dinner.” Well, that was an impressive conversation opener.

“Yep,” Calum said.

Jasper’s shoulders sagged. So neither of them was good at conversation. Didn’t mean they wouldn’t be good at—
Don’t go there.
The guy was probably married with kids. Goose bumps prickled Jasper’s skin and he took a bite of the sandwich as he gazed over the dark shadows of the mountains and up into the sky, clotted with stars. The night looked blacker, the stars more plentiful and brighter than at home. Ambient light in central London made star gazing virtually impossible. Yet it was still hard to find what you were looking for in this indigo sky smothered with opportunity.

Jasper shivered. He should have worn a sweater.

Oh crap.
Had Calum noticed he hadn’t even changed his clothes? His tie still hung around his neck. He ought to have washed. Fuck it. Calum could probably smell him. That thought lead to another. Jasper wanted to press his face into the cowboy’s neck and inhale him.