Jeannie Watt

Her Montana Cowboy


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      Gus ran his hand over his forehead. The skin was still tender from the scrubbing, but the mark was just as dark as when Mimi had put it on him the night before. That was the last time he let a roll of the bar dice decide his future.

      “It’s supposed to be temporary.”

      “Not the result of a drunken trip to the ink parlor?”

      He didn’t have to ask why she assumed it would be a drunken trip. What kind of sober person would do this to themselves? “It was part of a going-away party gag gift.”

      “Are you going somewhere?” she asked politely, although he also read a hopeful note in her voice.

      “I worked my last shift at the bar last night. Now I’m full-time manager here.”

      An odd expression flickered across her face, there, then gone. “On the ranch.”

      “Yes.”

      She finally lifted her cup to take a drink. Seconds ticked by and Gus found himself gripping the edge of the counter.

      “Where are you from?”

      “A smallish town not far from Austin, Texas.”

      “That’s quite a distance. How long did it take you to get here?”

      “Several days. I took it slow.” She looked out the window at the bare branched trees edging the yard. “Do you mind if I step outside?”

      “Not at all.” At least he couldn’t think of a reason to object. He didn’t trust her, though. Not even a little bit. This whole “air of mystery” thing was getting old, but Thad would be there in less than half an hour and maybe then he’d have some answers. In the meanwhile, he’d shut off the tractor, have another cup of coffee and wonder what the hell Lillie Jean Hardaway was up to.

      * * *

      MONTANA SMELLED GOOD. Lillie Jean would give it that. There was a cold snap to the air that made her feel like shivering as she drew in the scent of evergreens and moist earth. Wrapping her coat more tightly around herself, she walked down the concrete steps leading from the back door to the broken sidewalk. The front entrance was slightly grander, sporting an actual porch and wooden stairs, but the newels were leaning a little and as she walked further into the yard, she could see that the porch roof needed replacing.

      Fine. She wasn’t there for the house.

      She made her way to the driveway and walked toward the big green tractor parked there. When she was midway between the house and barn, she turned back toward the house, fairly certain she’d catch Gus Hawkins watching her through the window. Sure enough, there he was. He made no effort to step back or to appear as if he wasn’t keeping an eye on her. He didn’t trust her, and, truly, she couldn’t blame him. If positions were reversed, she wouldn’t trust her, either, but she wasn’t going to let anything slip until she met Thaddeus Hawkins. If there was bad blood between Thaddeus and her grandfather, why hadn’t one of them sold his part of the ranch to the other and walked away? Or sold it to someone else? There had to be a reason for that.

      There also had to be a reason that her grandfather never once mentioned the ranch to her. Considering the fact that she was his lone surviving relative, that was borderline amazing. And hurtful.

      Her nerves jumped when she saw a truck come over the hill in the distance. The problem with her current situation, as opposed to yesterday when she’d tried to drive to the ranch, was that she had no means of escape. Right now, escape sounded good.

      Sucking in a breath of crisp air, she turned and walked back to the house, pushing her hands deep into her pockets as she walked and trying very hard to remember just why she thought this might be a good idea.

      Answers. She wanted to know why she hadn’t known about this place. Who Thaddeus Hawkins was and why she’d never heard about him. And she wanted to know if Thaddeus would buy her half of the ranch. She needed the money to start a new life, a new business, a new everything. It’d be a lot easier and faster to unload it to the man who already owned the other half.

       CHAPTER THREE

      GUS HAD HAD no idea what to expect after Thad parked his pride and joy—a ’72 Ford F250 that guzzled gas as if it had a hole in the tank—next to the tractor and made his way to the house. He came in the back door as usual, then stopped dead when he caught sight of the woman sitting at the table, still wearing her coat.

      “Lillie Jean Hardaway?” he asked, as if there might be another woman in the house he didn’t know.

      “Yes.” She got to her feet, squared her shoulders, then crossed the room to hold out a small hand. Thad swallowed, looking as if he was half-afraid to have Lillie Jean touch him. They shook hands, and then Lillie Jean clasped her hands in front of her and Thad stuck his deep in his pockets. For a long moment he stared at her, as if trying to convince himself that she was real.

      “I wouldn’t mind some coffee,” he finally said in a low voice.

      Thad looked like he needed more than coffee, but without waiting for Gus to acknowledge his coffee request, he pulled out a chair and sat, motioning Lillie Jean to sit opposite him. Once she was seated, he said, “How is your grandfather?”

      “He passed away three weeks ago.”

      Thad’s forehead crumpled. “Sorry to hear that.” The comment was perfunctory, but Gus could see that the news impacted his uncle deeply. He set a cup of coffee in front of Thad, then moved back to his vantage point on the other side of the kitchen. He’d give them some space, but he wasn’t leaving his uncle alone with this woman. Not unless he received a direct order.

      “Yes. It was peaceful. He’d been having health issues, but we didn’t expect him to go so soon.” Lillie Jean glanced down, pursed her lips as if gearing herself up for some big announcement. “There was some trouble finding the will. Lawyers’ offices moving.” She waved a hand. “When it did surface...he left me his half of the ranch. I found out about it last week.”

      “I hadn’t heard anything,” Thad said in a low voice. “No one’s been in contact.”

      “They will be.”

      Gus’s back jerked straight as the meaning of the conversation became clear. “Wait a minute. Half of this ranch?”

      “Yeah.” Thad met his gaze, his expression solemn. “Lyle and I started this ranch as partners.”

      Thad had a partner? With the exception of the time he’d spent bull riding, Gus had lived on the ranch since he was fifteen, and he and his uncle had always been close—so why the hell was this the first he’d ever heard about the ranch having dual ownership. “So he’s like what? A silent partner?”

      “I guess you could call it that.” Thad turned back to Lillie Jean, leaving Gus to stare at him. “I have a little money in the ranch account that will be yours, too.” Thad smiled grimly. “The accountant sent Lyle a yearly check. It was never that much, but we only went in the red a couple of times over the past few decades.”

      “Decades.” Gus realized that his mouth had fallen open and quickly shut it. Funny how you could get out of bed one morning and everything was fine and a little more than twenty-four hours later, you find out that the truth as you know it, isn’t the truth at all.

      “How do we know that Lyle Hardaway is really your grandfather?”

      Both Thad and Lillie Jean looked his way, but before either could speak, he said to Thad, “Doesn’t it seem kind of unusual for you to get no word of your partner’s death and then she shows up out of the blue, saying that she’s your new partner?”

      “I have identification.” Lillie Jean spoke coldly.

      “In this day and age, that doesn’t mean a lot.” Maybe he was being rude, but from the moment