DJ was just leaving the Austin city limits when she picked up her cell phone, punched in her assistant’s number, and waited for her to answer.
“Danica Callahan’s office. May I help you?” Marcia’s unusually sweet voice resonated in her ear. She must have been enjoying her time alone in the office.
“Good morning, Marcia. Did you make my reservation?”
“Barely,” she said, her voice slipping into its familiar cantankerous tone. “You’re lucky they had a last-minute cancellation. It appears the Jumpin’ J Ranch is a very popular vacation spot.”
“Really?” The ranch must be doing better than the figures indicated.
“I practically had to beg, borrow, and steal to get the woman to give you a room.” Marcia’s voice rumbled with irritation. “Then I had to listen to her speech about May being the cusp of prime season. According to her, if I’d waited another hour, there wouldn’t have been anything available until the fall.”
“I’m sorry you had to go through all that, Marcia.” DJ smiled as she smothered a chuckle at Marcia’s exaggerated distress. Marcia wasn’t the sweetest assistant in the building, but she always got the job done and usually managed to take good care of DJ along the way. “Do you have the brochure handy? I didn’t have a chance to look at it yesterday.”
“I have it right here. What do you need to know?”
“Tell me about the place.” DJ changed lanes and sped around a car.
“It says here, the ranch is made up of roughly a thousand acres of pasture and small mountain terrain located in the Texas Hill Country on the outskirts of Kerrville, Texas, about one hundred miles southwest of Austin. Close enough to drive to for the weekend, yet far enough away to escape the big city.”
“Marcia,” she said flatly. “I know where it is. Just give me some basic information about the ranch.”
“Why didn’t you just say that?” Marcia’s voice rose in irritation. “The grounds consist of a working horse stable and corral, a regulation-size rodeo arena, and various riding trails throughout the hilly terrain. There’s also a seven-acre pond stocked yearly for fishing and a river snaking through the property used primarily for swimming and kayaking.” She sucked in a breath. “Is that enough basic information for you?”
“That’s perfect, Marcia. I do appreciate your patience.”
“Oh, and they’re LGBTQ friendly. Maybe you should stay a few weeks and find yourself a wife.”
“I’m happy just the way things are, Marcia.”
“Right.” Marcia let out a breath. “Anything else?”
“Not at the moment, thanks. I’ll let you know if I need something.” DJ caught sight of a mileage sign ahead. Seventy-five miles to paradise.
“It says here to stop at the gate and push the button on the intercom for directions to the office.” Marcia’s tone sweetened. “Now, you just relax and have a good time. I’m sure you can use the break.”
“Thanks.” DJ hit the end-call button on the screen and tossed her phone onto the passenger seat.
By the time DJ drove up to the huge wrought-iron gates of the Jumpin’ J Ranch, it was almost eight o’clock and the gates were wide open. They were probably left that way during the day. They looked to be electronic and were most likely controlled by the key-card slot on the intercom. Rolling the car up next to it, she pushed the button and waited for a response.
“Jumpin’ J Ranch. May I help you?” a woman’s voice chanted.
“DJ Callahan. I have a reservation.”
“Yes, Ms. Callahan. We’re expecting you. After you come through the gates, take an immediate right, and that road will lead you directly to the registration office.”
“Thank you.” DJ threw her BMW 440i convertible into gear and sped through the gates. She drove the short distance and cursed as gravel from the road clanked noisily against the wheel wells of the car. She parked, and after superficially inspecting the black clear-coat paint, she proceeded up the steps to the registration building.
“Don’t they believe in asphalt out here?” she said to the wisp of a girl behind the counter, who was probably barely into her twenties.
“I’m afraid you’re in the country now, Ms. Callahan. Things are a little different out here.” The young woman behind the counter smiled politely. “I’ll need a credit card and a driver’s license, please.”
DJ raised an eyebrow. “Then I would think, being in the country and all, you people would be a little more trusting.”
“Things aren’t that different.” She gave her a subtle wink.
She managed a smile as she fished her wallet from her bag, then tossed the items onto the counter. “What kind of room do I have?”
“You’re staying in what we call a guest lodge, complete with a minibar and Jacuzzi.”
“King-size bed?”
“Extra-long, eighty-five inches.”
“My assistant booked it,” she mumbled in explanation. In truth, after one too many nights of sleeping in beds not quite long enough to accommodate her six-foot frame, DJ made a habit of asking before paying.
“I just need you to sign here, and you’re all set.” The girl marked the spot and handed her a pen. DJ signed and pushed the paper across the counter.
“Here’s your key card, Ms. Callahan. You’ll need it for both your room and the main gate if you come or go after hours. If you happen to lose it, just let us know, and we’ll get you another one.”
“Thanks,” she said, slipping it into her back pocket. “Where do I go to find my room?”
She slid a small map of the grounds across the counter. “Here’s where you are now.” She tapped her pen over a small structure on the paper. “And here’s your lodge.” She trailed the pen an inch or so and circled a larger building. “Go back out to the road you came in on and then take a right. After about a half mile, you’ll see the barn on your left. Take the next right. Yours is the first one on the left.”
“What are these other buildings?” She traced her finger across the map.
“Those are bunkhouses.”
She drew her brows together. “Bunkhouses?”
“They’re used for deluxe cowpoke packages. With that package, you room in a bunkhouse with up to ten other guests of the same gender.”
Her eyes widened as they flew up to meet the young lady’s. “I do have a private room, don’t I?” She’d had her fill of roommates in college and wasn’t about to put up with a bunch of cowhands snoring through the night. She was too old and set in her ways to make those kinds of sacrifices.
The young lady’s smile broadened. She was apparently amused at her frenetic reaction.
“Sort of. Your sleeping space has a sliding door, but you do have to use the community bathroom in the building.”
“That’s all you have available?”
“I did have a private room when your assistant booked, but she thought you’d like this better.”
“Seriously?” I’m gonna kill her.
The girl nodded. “I can probably have you moved to one in a day or two, but right now they’re all full.”
“It’ll have to do.” She hoped she could finish her business with Kathryn Jackson right away and wouldn’t have to stay more than a day or two.
“The rooms really aren’t bad for the amount of time you spend in them.” She moved her pen across the paper, continuing with her detail of the grounds. “This is what we call the chow shack, but it’s really just a cafeteria. The bar and the general store are located in the same building.”
“You have a bar?”
“Yep. It’s a friendly little place. Stays busy most nights with guests and townfolk.”
“What’s this little house here?” DJ pointed to an unlabeled square on the page.
“That’s Mrs. Jackson’s house. It’s off-limits to the guests,” the girl said.
“Jackson as in Jumpin’ J?” DJ kept her eyes glued to the map.
“Yep. They should probably take it off the map, but it’s a good landmark.”
DJ looked up at the girl. “She doesn’t like to mingle with her guests?” DJ’s mind was working. The house was off-limits, but the map didn’t show any kind of barrier between it and the rest of the grounds.
The girl’s lips spread into a soft smile. “Don’t worry. You’ll see plenty of her during your stay.”
“Thank you for your time, miss.” She tipped her hat and headed out the door.
A gravel road, framed in white iron-rod fencing, actually did lead DJ directly to paradise. Horses grazed in the fields, and abundant trails meandered up into flourishing, tree-covered hills. The ranch was beautiful. Almost too beautiful. As she inched the car forward, the usually dormant feelings beginning to twist in her gut overwhelmed her. Who would’ve thought the scent of horse manure would bring them out in such force?
DJ threw the shift knob into neutral and let the car glide to a stop on the side of the road. She had to get a grip on her emotions. She couldn’t very well show up on Kathryn Jackson’s doorstep with tears streaming down her cheeks. While she’d been living full-time in the city, she hadn’t had to deal with the persistent feelings that still dwelled in her heart. She wiped the moisture from her cheeks, sucked in a ragged breath, and flipped the visor mirror open to check her reflection. She removed the small amount of black from under her eyes before she popped the gearshift into place and continued farther.
Definitely a cowgirl’s paradise, she thought, gliding into the space in front of the guest lodge. The building looked like an old horse stall. Noting the old-fashioned carpentry, she laughed. That’s exactly what it was, an old horse stall. Only now, it had been framed out into separate rooms. She roamed the hallway and found her space, as the young lady called it, to be the third stall on the left. The room consisted of a bed, not very wide, but extra-long, a dresser with a mirror, and a small refrigerator. The space wasn’t great but not as bad as she’d imagined. After tossing her duffel and hat onto the bed, she walked to the end of the hall, found the bathroom, and surveyed the multiple sinks, toilets, and shower stalls. This part of the ranch wasn’t DJ’s idea of paradise, but at least the place was clean.
After unpacking, DJ went outside and took the short walk over to the little white house with blue trim. She wanted to get a look at how the ill-mannered eldest daughter of Elizabeth Belmont lived. She stopped at the corral just across from the house, slung her arms across the top railing, and nodded at the young, dark-haired man leading a horse carrying a little girl around the circle. She looked enough like him to be his sister, but at second glance, seeing the gentle way he tended to her, DJ figured he was more likely her father. DJ’s father had started her and her brother and sister riding the same way.