Montana Hearts

 

Dedication

For Joe, Samantha, Robert, and Jason.

And for Tom and Donna Altmann for the many years of adventures together.

 

Acknowledgments

I
'
D LIKE TO
thank my editors at Avon Impulse: May, Chelsey, and Elle; and my critique partners, friends, and family for all your help and support. I thank God for His ever present guidance. And I'd like to give a big shout out to my Start To Finish class team; Jeri, Beverly, Carol, Karen, Robin, Julie, and Debby for your prayers and support, which truly made the completion of this book possible.

 

Contents

 

Chapter One

A
LOUD SCUFFLE
sounded from within the cabin, followed by a thud, as if something had bumped against the interior wall. Luke Collins stopped his trek down the dirt path in front to listen, and wondered who or what was inside. The two unfinished cabins at the end of the row on his family's guest ranch were
supposed
to be empty.

He glanced down at his two-­and-­a-­half-­year-­old niece and tightened his hold on her small hand.

“Onkle Uke, what's that?”

“What's
what
?” Luke asked, keeping his tone light to hide his alarm.

Another thud creaked the woodwork beside them.

“That,”
Meghan said, her blue eyes wide.

Luke's gut tightened as he noticed the front door had been left ajar. “Could be a squirrel,” he told her. Then he remembered the other creature they'd found in a cabin the month before and forced a smile. “Or a skunk.”

“Pee-­yew!” Meghan said, scrunching up her nose.

Luke nodded. “Yes, skunks smell pee-­yew. Stand back while I check and see.”

The first of the two unfinished cabins had been framed, roofed, and sheeted with plywood—­nearly complete. He stepped onto the wooden porch and, adjusting his weight to his good foot, pushed the door in with the tip of his cane. Although he'd never dreamed he'd be using an old-­man stick while still in his twenties, the cane
did
come in handy from time to time and provided him with a ready weapon—­if ever he should need one.

The hinges on the door were new and didn't screech like some of the older cabins when opened. Luke waited a second to see if anything would run out. Nothing did, but another bump sounded on the inside wall, letting him know something was in there.

Something a whole lot larger than the creatures he'd mentioned to his niece.

A shot of adrenaline coursed through his veins, and, glancing over his shoulder, he told Meghan, “Go over to the garden and stay with your great-­grandma for a moment.”

He watched until the toddler had joined the eighty-­year-­old white-­haired woman a safe distance away. The day before, a few of the guests at Collins Country Cabins had reported seeing two men in black ski masks looking through their windows while they were undressing. What if the Peeping Toms were holing up in
this
unfinished cabin?

Luke pressed himself against the outside wall and strained his ears to listen, but all was silent. Then, despite the limp from his left leg, he used the stealth he'd maintained from his past military training to move inside.

His first glance around the rough interior revealed a man's jacket lying on the floor. The savory scent of pepperoni pizza permeated the air. He heard a soft murmur of voices and spun toward his right, his cane raised high, ready to strike. And standing not ten feet away from him there was indeed a man . . . with his arms around Luke's older sister.

Bree jumped away from her fiancé, Ryan Tanner, with a start. “Luke! What are you doing here?”

“My job,” he said, shooting them each a grin as he lowered the cane. “Which is more than I can say for the two of you, unless you've added kissing to your list of ranch duties.”

Ryan chuckled and wrapped an arm around Bree's shoulders. “Absolutely. No cowboy can work at peak performance without a few stolen kisses.”

“If you say so,” Luke said, unconvinced.

“I worked all morning on the finances and future bookings,” Bree informed him. “And Ryan doesn't have to lead the mini-­roundup until tonight.”

Meghan peeked her blond, double-­ponytailed head through the doorway. “No pee-­yew?”

“No skunk,” Luke assured her. “Just Aunt Bree and Cowboy Ryan.”

“Looks like Delaney has
you
working hard,” Bree teased, referring to their younger sister. “She's got you babysitting?”

Luke picked Meghan up with one arm and lifted her onto his shoulders. “Del's getting ready to take a few guests on a trail ride, and Ma, Dad, and Grandma plan to take a trip into town, so Meghan's gonna watch me work. I need to finish siding this cabin and continue framing the next.”

Bree gave him an earnest look. “We need the cabins finished before the Hamilton wedding in August.”

“Don't I know it.” His family was depending on his carpentry skills to get the job done and reminded him at every turn.

Luke couldn't blame them. As co-­owners of Collins Country Cabins, they each needed the large amount of money the wedding with its one-­hundred-­person guest list would bring in. Especially after their previous ranch managers fled at the beginning of the summer season with most of their cash. Their father had trusted Susan and Wade Randall, but when a fall from his horse landed him in the hospital, the ­couple used the opportunity to embezzle as much as they could.

“When are you going to start planning your own wedding?” Luke asked, trying to take the focus off himself.

Bree glanced at Ryan and smiled. “Sammy Jo agreed to help me plan an engagement party, set for the end of next month, but the actual wedding won't be for another year.”

Ryan nodded. “I tried to convince her to marry me
now
, but she says she needs time to plan out all the details.”

“I just want it to be perfect,” Bree said, her cheeks coloring. “And I'm hoping the Hamilton wedding will give me some good ideas. You know, I thought we could decorate all the guest cabins with white garlands and . . .” Bree's voice trailed off and Luke watched her gaze drift toward his cane. “Of course I'll do all the decorating. I don't expect
you
to have to get up on a ladder, Luke. In fact, why don't you let Ryan and I help you right now?”

Luke stiffened. “Nope. I've got this. No offense, Bree, but you don't know the first thing about construction.”

“Well, then, why don't you let
me
watch Meghan,” she persisted, “so she doesn't get in your way and—­”

“Trip me?” Luke frowned. “No, I promised little Meggie that she and I would spend the afternoon together.”

Bree pursed her lips and her gaze drifted toward his cane again. “But it would be easier if—­”

He shook his head. “The days are longer now that it's the tail end of June. I'll get it done,” he promised.

Without anyone taking pity on me.

He knew his sister didn't mean to look at him like that, but he and his siblings hadn't seen each other for close to a year before they returned to Fox Creek to help out on their family's Montana guest ranch six weeks before. And up till then, he'd kept his injury to himself.

They still weren't used to the idea he needed a cane to get around, but then again, neither was he. The sooner he got the money for the knee surgery, the better, except . . . he cringed every time he thought of being knocked out for the procedure.

Greg Quinn, one of his friends in the army, survived a horrendous helicopter crash only to die twenty-­four hours later due to complications from the meds used to put him to sleep prior to surgery to remove a damaged kidney.

Luke swung Meghan off his shoulders and, in one swift move, set her back on her feet. “Like I said, I've got it handled.”

“Okay, then,” Bree said, her voice still hesitant. A second later she smiled. “If you
do
need help, you know where you can find us.”

“Yes, I do.” Luke glanced down at his niece. “We'll leave them be and work on the other cabin,” he told the blond-­haired cutie. “The other one's more fun anyway.”

Back outside, Meghan giggled as she ran toward the open-­slatted two-­by-­fours framing up the walls of the cabin next door. “You can't catch me!”

Luke hobbled along with the help of his cane to chase after the child, but his mind remained back with Ryan and Bree.

He was happy for them. He was. They'd all grown up together and Ryan Tanner was a good man. With
money
. His family owned the Triple T cattle ranch, largest in Fox Creek, maybe largest in all of Gallatin County.

But only six weeks had passed since their father had been injured in a fall from his horse and Luke, Bree, and Delaney had come home. Only six weeks since their grandmother offered them each part of the ranch profits if they agreed to stay. Six weeks since Bree and Ryan had reunited after years of being apart—­long enough for Ryan to have a seven-­year-­old son.

And now, as of last night, they were engaged. How crazy was that?

There was no way
he
'
d
ever get engaged to someone after so little time together. At least they were planning to wait a year before going through with the actual wedding. Bree said she needed time to plan, but he hoped it also gave her enough time to make sure she was doing the right thing.

Of course, he had to admit she and Ryan seemed meant for each other. He glanced down at his leg. Maybe after he saved enough money and had the surgery he needed to carry his weight, he'd consider dating again. But not before then. Not until he was whole. The
last
thing he needed was for a country cowgirl to remind him with every soulful glance that he was damaged goods.

And not the hair-­raising, high-­flying, bronco-­bustin' cowboy he used to be.

S
AMMY
J
O
M
ACPHERSON
raised the brim of her straw hat to get a better look at the pair in front of her.

“You can't catch me.” Meghan giggled again, her small body running easily through the open slats between the two-­by-­fours.

Luke grinned. “Oh, you don't think so?”

Meghan shook her head, making her ponytails swing back and forth. “Noooo.”

Luke pretended he couldn't find an opening big enough for him to squeeze through the beams like she had, which made Meghan laugh so hard she almost fell down backward. Then he went through the opening for the door and she squealed and ran through the vertical beams framing the future bathroom.

Sammy Jo smiled, the longing in her heart doubling at the sight of them. Luke would make a good father someday. A man tough enough to jump onto the back of a wild bronc, but tender enough to give in to the whims of a toddler.

“Can I play, too?” Sammy Jo asked, her breath catching in her chest.

Luke turned his head, and when their gazes locked, the muscle along the side of his jaw jumped. “
Sammy Jo.
Aren't you a little old to play games?”

“Not if you're the one I'm playing with,” she teased.

He gave her a puzzled look as if trying to figure her out. Then his expression relaxed and the corners of his mouth lifted into a welcoming grin. She smiled at him in return. She couldn't wait to spend the afternoon with him. Her cheeks warmed and her insides were already dancing around in anticipation.

Luke arched a brow. “Does your father know you're over here consorting with the enemy again?”

She laughed. “I'm a rebel. You know I don't have anything to do with my father's silly feud with your parents.”

Luke glanced at his niece. “What do you say, Meghan? Should we let Sammy Jo play?”

Meghan looked at her and giggled. “You can't catch me.”

“Oh, yes, I can, you little munchkin,” Sammy Jo called out, and chased her through the open framework.

“Not if I catch her first,” Luke countered, and dropping his cane, he leaned down and scooped the little girl up in his arms as she ran past.

“Aaaah!” Meghan squealed with delight. “Onkle Uke got me!”

“Lucky girl,” Sammy Jo said, coming to a halt beside them.

Luke held her gaze for a fraction of a second, then released the squirming toddler and glanced at the cane, which lay on the floorboards between them.

Before he could ask, or do it himself, Sammy Jo bent down and retrieved the unique wood-­carved stick he'd brought back with him from the Florida Keys. No doubt he'd fashioned it himself from a piece of driftwood.

“Here,” she said, handing the cane back to him.

He hesitated, then reached out and took it. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

But obviously, it was a problem for him. His smile disappeared and his expression sobered. And she was sure something other than the cane had passed between them. Something . . . cold.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked, placing a hand on his arm.

He pulled away. “Nothing to talk about.”

“You know, there's a rehabilitation horse at the kids' camp where I work on weekends. They said I could bring him over and let you give him a try.”

“I can't ride,” he said, shooting her a sharp look.

“You could,” she argued. “The horse lies down for easy mounting.”

She followed his gaze across the yard to the staging area where Delaney was helping some of the inexperienced greenhorn guests mount up for a trail ride.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I don't need special assistance.”

“The horse is a real sweetheart. There's nothing to fear.”

“I'm not afraid,” Luke said, almost cutting her off. “I'm fine the way I am.”

Sammy Jo found that hard to believe. Especially coming from
him
. Luke had been one of the best riders on the rodeo circuit before he left for the military. And over the last several weeks she'd seen the way he'd encouraged his sister Bree to get back up in the saddle again. She'd seen the envy in his eyes when he watched Ryan and the guests going on the mini-­roundups ride out through the gate. And she'd seen the way he sat for hours in the stable, polishing the tack of his favorite horse.

He
must
want to ride again. All he needed was something to spur him into action.

A flurry of pounding hooves sped toward them, and Sammy Jo spun around and jumped when a runaway horse brushed its shoulder against the outside beam of the cabin they stood in. Her gaze fell upon the rider. A woman of medium build clung to the animal's back like a spider atop its prey. Except the woman didn't have any control. And Sammy Jo feared she'd soon be the real victim, not the horse.