Plain Jane & The Hotshot Read Free

caught everyone off guard.
    They all laughed, even Kayla, whom Jo had to admit looked beautiful and confident when she laughed.
    But moments later Jo’s thoughts turned to Nick, the way his eyes had settled on her and refused to look away, the way his presence seemed to draw every female gaze like a vacuum. It had been a while since she’d wondered what it would be like to be held by a man, kissed and stroked. The very thought of it sent a neon sign of warning through her mind, but she still found herself wondering about the man Hazel called a Hotshot.
    She knew one thing, however. The best way not to get burned was to stay away from fire.
    And that, she planned to do the entire weekend.

Two
    K ayla’s great-aunt Dottie McGratten showed up only a few minutes after Nick left, both her arms filled with firewood and kindling. She had an old hickory-nut face, well seamed, under a startling profusion of snow-white hair, barely restrained by a Dallas Cowboys cap. The wife of a retired oil wildcatter and formerly from Mystery Valley, she was still as spry as Hazel and Stella.
    â€œThe old gals are going easy on us tonight,” Bonnie observed as the three younger women settled into their cabin before supper.
    â€œYeah, but judging from their sly grins,” Jo said, “it’s only the calm before the storm.”
    â€œAnd it’s going to be some storm,” Bonnie said,busy spreading her sleeping bag over the bare springs of her bed. “Star navigating, first-aid, fishing, rafting—if we survive this we’ll get our Ranger Rick badge.”
    â€œYou keep the badge,” Kayla quipped demurely. “I’ll take Ranger Rick.”
    Jo glanced around the cabin. There was an old iron stove with nickel trimmings, three metal bedsteads, one along each wall, and little else besides a few nails in the walls for hanging clothes.
    Ten days, she thought. It didn’t sound very long when she agreed to this. Now it loomed before her like a period of banishment, each day an eternity.
    But she owed Hazel, if not herself, a cheerful attitude. McCallum money had financed McCallum Secondary School before there was even a Montana state legislature. And recently, since the hard-pressed state budget had virtually eliminated funding for art and music education, Hazel had almost single-handedly rescued the programs—and Jo’s teaching position.
    So what Hazel wanted, Hazel got, even if she had the addled notion to try to make an inept camper survive the wilderness.
    â€œI have dibs on this,” Kayla chimed in, flopping her blond self down on the thin mattress. She carefully arranged her cosmetics on a little wooden shelf beside the bed.
    Bonnie turned to Jo and said under her breath, “She’s got dibs on everything, inanimate or not.”
    Jo smiled distantly and placed her backpack on the middle bed.
    Next to her, Kayla picked up a compact and examined herself. Her eyes rose to meet Jo’s.
    â€œDottie says your momma was Miss Montana?” Kayla asked, her voice a little wistful.
    There it was again, Jo thought, her mother’s fame dredged up almost immediately by a virtual stranger. She felt a fist clench in her chest as she was reminded, yet again, that she dwelled in a perpetual maternal shadow.
    â€œDottie says right,” Bonnie supplied when Jo refused to reply. “And she was one of the finalists for Miss America.”
    â€œWell…Montana,” Kayla said dismissively. “I mean, that’s nothing like being Miss Texas or Miss New York.”
    â€œWhy not?” Bonnie demanded.
    Kayla studied her face carefully in the compact mirror before she replied.
    â€œOh, you know. Big frog in a small pond. We’ve got so many pretty girls in Texas, so it’s a real competition. But y’all in Montana got such an itty-bitty population.” Kayla flashed a mouthful of stunning enamel at Jo. “Not that I’m saying your momma didn’t