He tugged down the brim of his Stetson, pulled off his work gloves and rolled up his sleeves, waiting to see if the women were headed his way. It was too hot for May in northern Montana, though the mornings were still pleasant. When he’d left the bunkhouse at six to check on the calves, the air had been on the chilly side.

As much as he liked working for the McAllister family, the Sundance wasn’t just about raising cattle these days. Hard times had forced them to extend their operation to dude ranching. If that wasn’t bad enough, the guests were all cowboy-crazy females. Baited, hooked and released right here to cause more trouble than a pack of hungry coyotes.

It had been Rachel’s idea, one her three brothers hated. She was the only girl, and being the same age as Josh, they’d been classmates. So he knew once she got something in her head there was no use arguing with her.

Not that Josh had a say or was privy to family business. He’d still been a kid when they hired him, and even though Mrs. McAllister had treated him as one of her own, Josh knew his place. He never forgot he wasn’t a McAllister, but he suspected opening to guests had pulled the family’s bacon out of the fire. At least there had been no layoffs. The same couldn’t be said for most other ranches around Blackfoot Falls.

After a few minutes of quiet, he figured it was okay to step out in the open. He wasn’t going far, just to the bunkhouse for lunch.

He’d barely moved when he heard the McAllisters’ kitchen door creak open. Immediately a bad feeling came over him…the feeling that he was about to get railroaded into doing something he didn’t want to do. Something that likely involved the guests.

The door slammed. Yep. Had to be his buddy Trace coming out to do some arm-twisting. The ladies all loved him. He was the youngest brother, and one of those guys who could park his boots under a different bed every night and still have women knocking down his door.

Rachel had played it real smart in attracting young single women by plastering her three brothers’ pictures on the website, then talking Trace into handling everything from horseback-riding lessons to kayaking. In the beginning he’d eaten up the attention. But lately, he’d been running in the other direction.

Josh didn’t blame him. Some of those city gals were really something… Pretty, but bold and pushy. Even Josh had been spending too much of his time and paycheck at the bar in town trying to avoid them. Though the Watering Hole wasn’t the best escape anymore. The women had started hanging out there, too, interrupting pool games and hogging the jukebox. Most of the guys didn’t mind, as long as they got laid at some point. But those were the hired hands from other ranches, who were free to sleep with any guest that crooked her finger.

Different story for Josh. He already owed the McAllisters so much. And though Rachel hadn’t said anything about the hands taking up with the guests, he wouldn’t disrespect her or Mrs. M. by testing the water.

Before he looked to confirm that it was Trace, Josh heard a shrill feminine laugh. Two blondes came from the porch and walked with purpose toward the stable. He spotted a third woman several yards behind trying to catch up. He recognized her right off. In fact, he knew the blondes, too, but he didn’t care for either of them. He did like the petite brunette. Enough to have found out her name was Haley and she was from New York City.

She’d arrived four days ago, by herself, and twice he’d seen her wandering around the place with a sketch pad. Yesterday she’d disappeared into a grove of aspens, and he’d been tempted to follow her. Haley seemed like a loner, or maybe she didn’t have anything in common with the other women. They were a particularly silly bunch and it was sickeningly obvious that they’d come to Montana to have sex with a cowboy. Preferably a McAllister brother. Too bad for them Cole and Jesse were taken. That left Trace…

Josh glanced over his shoulder. But Trace must’ve heard the women, turned tail and run. The chickenshit.

He stayed in the shadow of the barn, waiting for the women to pass, wondering what business they had in the stables. Rachel might’ve sent them, but he doubted it. He just hoped they wouldn’t do anything to spook the horses. Yesterday he’d had to say something to the taller one about staying away from Gypsy.

The blondes were so busy talking and giggling that they hadn’t seen him, which suited him just fine. Haley had nearly caught up to them when she spotted him. Slowing down, she gave him a shy smile.

“Morning, Haley,” he said, tipping his Stetson.

Her pretty brown eyes widened. “Hi. It’s Josh, right?”

He nodded, pleased she remembered since they’d only met briefly her second day. “Anything I can do for you?”

“No.” Her gaze darted to the other two, who’d heard them, and not only kept walking, but picked up their pace. “I’d better hurry. We’re choosing our horses for this afternoon’s ride.”

No one in their right mind would’ve sent them to do any such thing. Only certain mares were available to the guests. But Trace or Rachel might’ve wanted to get the women out of their hair for a while so Josh didn’t say anything. He watched as the blondes, then Haley, disappeared into the stables, and wondered who’d be leading the trail ride. Besides Trace, Josh and two other hands were routinely recruited to handle activities. He knew he hadn’t drawn the short straw. Neither Kyle nor Bobby had grumbled about having to do it…that meant Trace was it.

Josh shook his head. Yep, he’d better go grab his lunch, then get out to the north pasture before Trace roped him into taking his place. If it was just Haley, Josh would’ve volunteered. But the other two? No way.

He hadn’t made it but six feet when a ruckus broke out in the stable.

Chapter Two

Josh hurried into the stable as the blondes rushed past him, whispering and trying to smother their laughs. Seeing that they weren’t terrified or crying brought him some relief. But he didn’t see Haley right off, and that he didn’t like. Then he heard Tango nicker, low and deep, and that didn’t sit well with Josh, either. Cole’s chestnut gelding was normally even-tempered.

He stopped when he saw Haley standing still as a statue in front of Gypsy’s stall. The mare was clearly agitated, and Haley just stared, her hand pressed to her throat.

“Oh, God, even the horses hate me,” she murmured, then covered her mouth. Her whole body shuddered.

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