Jeannie Watt

Her Montana Cowboy


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of the ordinary for her. She was in control, and, darn it, she was going to get answers. She’d played over many scenarios in her head as she’d driven—and not one of them had ended like this.

      The cowboy—Gus—slowed as he drove under a weathered wooden arch into the ranch proper, which was nothing like Lillie Jean had envisioned. A light on a tall pole illuminated two small run-down houses and another light shone on a cluster of weathered buildings—a barn and several sheds. There was movement in the shadows behind the fence next to the barn. Henry’s hackles lifted and he let out a low growl.

      “Better keep hold of him until we get into the house. You don’t want him disappearing out into the pasture.”

      “Are those horses?” she asked as Gus pulled to a stop next to a picket fence.

      “Cows.” He shut off the engine and the headlights faded.

      Cows. Of course. It was a ranch.

      They opened their doors at the same time. Lillie Jean scooped up Henry and held him against her chest with one hand as she pulled her tote bag out of the truck with the other. The tire iron stayed where it was, lying on the floorboards. She felt a little foolish about her self-protective measures, but if she had it to do again, she’d do the exact same thing. A wooden sign attached to the gatepost welcomed her to the H/H Ranch. Lillie Jean’s mouth tightened. The H/H didn’t feel very welcoming...but it was half hers. The land was worth something even if all the buildings looked as if they were about to fall down.

      Once the gate was closed behind her, she put Henry on the ground and followed Gus up the uneven walkway to the back door. Henry quickly did his business, then hurried back to Lillie Jean. Gus opened the door, and they walked directly into a mudroom with boots lining the wall and a broad assortment of coats and hats hanging on hooks above them. The room was freshly swept and baskets of folded clothing sat atop the washer and dryer next to the door leading into the house.

      Gus crossed to the door, snapped on a light and stood back so that she could enter first. The big kitchen was as neat as the mudroom. The oak table in the center of the room was an antique and the simple white appliances were close to being antique.

      “You can sleep in Thad’s room. Give me a sec and I’ll get you some sheets.”

      “Where will Thad sleep?” she asked, horrified at the idea of rousting the old man out of bed and sending him to sleep who knew where.

      “Where he’s probably sleeping right now. In the apartment over the bar.”

      “What bar?”

      “The Shamrock Pub. His bar. Our bar.”

      “I don’t understand.”

      “Thad doesn’t live on the ranch. He hasn’t lived here for years. He only stays here when he needs to pitch in around the place.”

      Lillie Jean’s mouth fell open. “You’re saying...”

      “It’s just you and me here tonight.” He folded his arms over his chest and his expression wasn’t at all amused as he said, “Do you want to go back to the truck for your weapon?”

       CHAPTER TWO

      TWENTY MINUTES LATER, Lillie Jean was lying in a twin bed, staring at the ceiling, too keyed up to go to sleep even though it was almost 3:00 a.m. Gus had handed her sheets for the stripped bed, pointed her in the direction of the bathroom, then disappeared down the hall to a room at the end.

       None of this is going according to plan.

      Not one thing. Thaddeus had been in the town she’d driven through on her way to the ranch, and, as things stood now, she was dependent on a guy who was probably going to be none too happy when he discovered the reason she was at the ranch in the first place.

      A guy who didn’t know her last name, because she hadn’t wanted to tip her hand.

      A guy with lip prints on his forehead.

      That had been startling. It had taken a moment for her to realize that the prints weren’t lipstick. She didn’t want to think about what the prints were made of or how they got there. None of her business, but seeing them had been enough to make her flip the lock on the bedroom door. She knew nothing about this guy, except that he was extremely good-looking and walked with just a hint of a limp.

      Lillie Jean rolled over, pulling the sheet with her. Her insurance covered towing, so tomorrow she’d call her company and have them get her car out of the mud—if they would travel out this far to rescue her. She truly was isolated out here in the middle of Nowhere, Montana. There were other ranches in the vicinity—she’d seen lights in the distance as she’d followed Gus into the house—but for all intents and purposes, she was stranded in a place with no close neighbors, no easy access.

      Again...nothing going according to plan.

      Kind of the theme in her life over the past months.

      Suck it up. The one thing she would not succumb to was self-pity. Her mom would have her hide for that...or rather, she would have had it. Lillie Jean had grown up knowing that even if she was a touch shy, and even if she wasn’t confrontational, she was expected to be strong and roll with the punches. She’d done a crazy thing coming here to Montana on impulse, and now she was suffering consequences. A natural part of life.

      She squeezed her eyes shut, felt a touch of moisture at the corners at the thought of her mother. Drew in a deep breath and did her best to come to terms with the situation at hand.

       I’m rolling, Mom.

       I’m rolling so hard that I get dizzy sometimes.

      * * *

      GUS SCRUBBED AWAY at the lip print on his forehead, then gave up in disgust. If he didn’t stop scrubbing, he’d have no skin left. No wonder the woman had looked at him so strangely the night before when he’d come back with the sheets. She’d stared at his forehead, then looked down with a few mumbled words of thanks before disappearing into the bedroom. As expected, he’d heard the lock click shut.

      Thank you, Mimi, for the “temporary” tattoo and the strategic placement.

      The door to Thad’s room was closed as he went by on his way to the kitchen. He started the coffee, then went to the mudroom, slid his feet into his chore boots and shrugged into his heavy canvas coat before heading out to start the tractor. After feeding, he’d roust the woman and before they took the tractor down to pull her car out of the mud, he was going to get some answers. Like who was she and what did she want with his uncle? He wasn’t a big fan of mysteries and secrets. He’d let her hedge the night before, but now that they’d gotten a few hours of sleep, he wanted to know what was what before dragging Thad into it.

      There was just enough frozen moisture in the air to feel sharp as he drew it into his lungs, and to coat the gravel with a thin skiff of frost. He unplugged the tractor’s block heater, started the big machine and left it to idle while he fed the barn cats and then tossed hay over the fence to the horses.

      He crossed the driveway with a scoop of food for Clancy, the cat who lived under the front porch of the empty manager’s house. Clancy popped his head out, then disappeared back under the porch when Gus set down the bowl, pushing it far enough under the floorboards to allow the cat to feel safe while eating. He then snagged the empty bowl from yesterday and carried it back to the barn with him. The cat had never warmed up to anyone other than Sal, but was too wild for the old guy to take him with him when he retired to Dillon.

      When Gus returned to the barn forty-five minutes later, after feeding two pastures of hungry cows, he left the tractor running. If his guest was out of bed, he was ready to yank her car out of the mud—after she answered a few questions.

      He heard water running in the bathroom when he walked into the kitchen, so he poured a cup of coffee from the full carafe and sipped it while