Wildcard by Cheyenne McCray Page A

then trotted off toward the barn.
    Trace turned her gaze to the east, to the tawny mountains rising behind the ranch. She’d explored those mountains many times with her sister when they were younger. Memories of the fun times they’d shared returned clear and crisp, like they’d happened last week instead of years ago.
    A glint caught her eye, coming from the mountain. About where that little hideaway of Dee’s and Jake’s used to be—several quick flashes. Like a mirror reflecting the sunlight. Probably some campers, or hikers. Maybe even some illegals, sneaking to greener pastures.
    Trace ran her palms up and down her upper arms, rubbing away the evening chill as she turned on her heel and headed back into the house. After she shut the door tight behind her, the complete quiet of the house settled over Trace, reminding her of times she’d been home alone as a teenager, and Dee had been off working the ranch. Would she ever get over the guilt of having left all the ranch’s responsibilities to Dee?
    Pausing in mid-step, Trace’s gaze drifted over family photographs displayed prominently around the room. Pictures of her with Dee, of each of them alone, and with their parents. After their father took off with his new wife and left them alone, Trace had refused to contact him. He never took the time to see how she was doing, so why should she bother?
    Trace moved to one of the end tables, stopped in front of her senior photo, and slid her fingers along the wooden frame. In the picture her face was pudgy, her smile soft and wistful. Despite the wire framed glasses she used to wear, her green eyes were bright and full of hope for the future.
    Next to her senior photo was a recent picture of Dee and Jake. She was standing in his embrace, her face tilted up to his, and the way he was looking at her with so much love, it made Trace’s heart ache with both pleasure for her sister, and envy for herself.
    She still couldn’t believe Dee was married to Jake, after all these years. Trace had to admit they made the perfect couple now, as they had a decade ago. There was so much fire and passion between the two of them then, and now… wow . To have sparks like that. Trace hadn’t thought that kind of passion between a man and a woman could possibly be real—just something she’d read about in romance novels.
    That was, until she’d met Jess.
    With a groan of frustration, Trace jerked herself away from the photographs, skirted the Christmas tree and started down the hall. Why the hell did that cowboy keep popping into her mind? Maybe what she needed was a nice, long, relaxing bath.
    Better yet, a dip in the hot tub would be perfect. They’d always kept it heated and had used it year round. Knowing Dee, it still would be ready for use.
    In her bedroom, Trace kicked off her Nikes and yanked off her socks, then ditched her jeans and t-shirt. After she’d donned a short terry robe over her bra and underwear, she grabbed a thick towel and headed out to the hot tub in the enclosed backyard.
    The French doors squeaked as she opened them, and then again as she closed the doors behind her. There was a definite coolness to the air by Arizona standards, and the steam rising off the top of the water in the sunken tub was a welcome sign. Thank goodness Dee had the outdoor heaters set up close to the hot tub to take the chill out of the air. The pole heaters were easily six feet tall with tops that looked like woks turned upside down.
    Trace tossed her towel onto a deck chair and flipped on the heaters. In moments their elements began to glow rich orange-red, the same color as the sun sinking in the west. After she turned on the whirlpool jets, Trace dropped her robe onto a lounge chair. For a moment she stood on the redwood decking in only her royal blue satin bra and panties. With one little adjustment of her hairclip, she piled her hair up on top of her head so that it would stay out of the water.
    The whirlpool bubbled and frothed