Montana Hearts: Her Weekend Wrangler (14 page)

“I was,” Sammy Jo said, holding out her finger. “I had a hangnail and it hurt real bad when Delaney tore it off. Makes
me wonder if Nora and Nadine were right. Maybe we should all get trendy nails from
Trendy Teen
magazine so this won’t ever happen again.”

Both Sammy Jo and Delaney laughed, but Bree was far too fired up to think their fake emergency call was funny.

“Luke’s calling 911,” Bree shouted, her breathing still heavy. “They should be here any minute.”

“Luke didn’t make the call,” Delaney assured
her. “In fact, this was his idea.”

“What?” Bree gasped, and recalled her brother’s words from the day before.
“You need to get back up in the saddle.”
She growled her fury through clenched teeth, then looked back in the direction she’d come and shouted at the top of her lungs,
“Luke!”

“I know it was an awful trick and you must think we’re the meanest ­people on the planet, but it was the
only way we could think of to get you to ride,” Sammy Jo said, pushing her sunglasses to the top of her curly head. “You would have done the same for me if our positions were reversed.”

Bree started to protest but Sammy Jo stood up and pointed a finger at her. “You would, too, Brianna Collins, don’t you dare deny it. Now it’s time for you to ‘cowgirl-­up.’ Take the reins, get back into the
saddle . . . and get
on
with your life!”

“Be the confident, free-­spirited cowgirl you were meant to be,” Delaney agreed.

Bree frowned, her heart aching. “Del, you were in on this, too?”

“You’ve always been happiest when in the saddle.”

“So how
was
it?” Sammy Jo asked, giving her an eager look. “What was it
like
to ride again after all this time? Didn’t you love it?”

“I was
too worried about you to even think,” Bree said, her heart still hammering in her ears. “And you’re right. You
are
mean. Meaner than I could have ever imagined.”

Holding the reins, she hopped back up onto Equinox’s back and swung her leg over to the other side.

“Wait!” Sammy Jo called, waving her arms for her to stop. “You just got here. Where are you going?”

Bree turned the gelding
around and gave her sister and friend a final chastising look over her shoulder.

“I’m going
home
.”

“Love ya like a sister!” Sammy Jo called after her, and all of the sudden Bree knew what
LYLAS
meant. Except, at the moment, she didn’t feel the same way.

E
QUINOX RESPONDED TO
her leg cues and turned when he was supposed to, slowed when he was supposed to, and even snorted in supportive
disgust whenever she went into a rant. All in all, the red roan appeared to be a good horse: well trained, eager to please, and compassionate to boot.

Unlike her sister and best friend. And brother. How
dare
they pull a stunt like this! What gave them the right to think they knew what was best for her?

She and Equinox raced back over the fields, and before long the tension seeped out of
her body. She had to admit her father had been right about one thing. The horse was fast. As they raced back along the river toward Luke’s camp, the wind blew back her hair and beat upon her face, making her eyes tear.

Luke had also been right. She
did
love to ride. She’d forgotten how freeing it was to soar over the fields like she was a mighty bird . . . like she had wings . . . like she
could lift off and nothing in the whole world could stop her. Not worry, disappointment, self-­doubt, or pain.

Memories of Serenity flew into her head, but instead of locking her into a prison of sadness, she felt a weight lift off her shoulders, a release. Equinox picked up even more speed as they crossed the open field as if he, too, had been set free from a cage; as if he, too, were learning
to run again.

Sammy Jo’s words floated through her mind.
“It’s time for you to cowgirl-­up.”
She leaned down over Equinox’s neck to give him an encouraging pat and she knew her friend was right. Her
“sister”
had been right.
Both
of them. She’d been a sniveling coward. And she never would have tolerated Sammy Jo or Delaney acting the way she had. They
weren’t
mean. They were honest. Over the
years the three of them had made a pact to always tell each other the truth. And she couldn’t fault them now for showing her a little tough love and doing what they thought was right.

Her thoughts drifted back to that night long ago when her father had also done what he thought was right by putting Serenity down. What if she
had
been there? She might have tried a few different methods to save
her horse and the young foal stuck inside, but there was no guarantee the outcome would have been any different.

If she were truly going to “cowgirl-­up,” she needed to forgive her father. And Ryan.

The soft tread of additional hoof beats turned her head toward the connecting trail where Ryan Tanner joined her.

“You must have ESP,” Bree accused as she slowed to ride beside him. “Because
I was just thinking of you.”

“Must be my lucky day,” he said, then gave her a hesitant look. “Or not. Depends on what you were thinking.”

“I was thinking about the night you helped my father by trying to keep me at prom.”

“I was trying to help
you
,” Ryan shot back. “I didn’t want you to get hurt.”

“Neither did my father, did he?”

“We knew how much you loved that horse.”

“The same way you knew how much I love riding? Is that why you’re here?” she asked. “It wasn’t ESP, was it? You knew I would ride this way because you were in on the whole scheme with Sammy Jo, Luke, and Delaney.”

Ryan studied her and smiled. “I expected you to be angrier.”

“I was,” she assured him.

“And now?”

She looked at him and smiled. “Not so much.”

“We’re all on your side,
Bree, just trying to do what we think is best. We might not always be right, but we’re trying. Because we care about you.”

“Even you?” she teased, trying to keep the mood light.

“Even me,” he admitted, and heat rose into her cheeks as he looked at her. “I also care for my son. Which is why I have to talk to you about Cody.”

She frowned. “Cody?”

“He’s becoming attached to you.”

“Oh?” Bree glanced away, and adjusted her seat in the saddle.

“I guess he made that clear when he gave you the Mother’s Day card for your birthday,” Ryan continued, “and I’m worried he might get his feelings hurt if you . . . go away again.”

“When I asked him to help me train the horses I was just trying to be nice,” Bree said defensively. “I didn’t mean to make him—­”

“Fall in
love with you?” Ryan prompted.

Bree sucked in her breath and remained silent.

“Cody has never latched on to any female since his mother left the way he has with you. I’ve never seen him light up the way he does when you’re around, not with his teachers or either one of his grandmothers. Only you.”

“I’m sorry, but you’re right,” Bree admitted. “I can’t promise I’ll never leave town
again. I do
not
have ESP and I can’t predict the future.”

“I just want you to understand that if you get too close, and then leave . . . there are ­people who care about you who will be hurt.”

“What do you want me to do, stay away?” She searched his face, the old inadequate feelings from high school flooding back at the thought he might not want her around.

“No,” he said, and held
her gaze. “Just
stay
.”

“Stay . . .” Bree pursed her lips. “For Cody.”

“And for me,” Ryan added, a grin touching his lips.

She smiled back at him. “I thought I wasn’t worth your time.”

“Why would you ever think that?”

She shook her head. “Our senior year of high school, I overheard you tell someone you wouldn’t ask me to prom because you didn’t think I was worth your time.”

“I didn’t think you’d say yes.” He gave her a rueful grin. “But then I changed my mind.”

“You did?”

During the rest of their ride to the guest ranch Ryan told how if it weren’t for a bee stinging his painted horse he would have asked her to the dance, not Gail.

“If I
had
asked you to prom,” Ryan said, riding close and leaning his head toward her, “what would you have said?”

Ryan’s brown eyes were so soft as he looked at her, his expression so tender, her heart skipped a beat and her knees melted into her boots. “Yes,” she said, her voice soft. “I would have said . . . yes.”

Ryan grinned. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

She nodded. “Tomorrow.”

Then he tipped the brim of his hat toward her in farewell and, with a mischievous twitch of his lips, rode off toward
his own ranch, the Triple T. Bree smiled as she dismounted in front of the stable. Smiled as she unbuckled Equinox’s saddle strap. Smiled as she took off the reins.

Ryan Tanner
liked
her. He
really
liked her. And she really liked him, too.

“Not fair!” a high-­pitched female voice complained.

Bree snapped out of her Ryan reverie and looked at the three CEOs walking toward her. “What’s
not fair?”

Chelsea put her hands on her hips. “We came to this ranch expecting to meet lots of cute cowboys, but you took the only one worth looking at away for the afternoon.”

Bree glanced toward the cowboy disappearing over the hillside. “You mean Ryan?”

Katelyn rolled her eyes. “Of course we mean Ryan. Who else?”

“There’s my brother, Luke,” Bree said, trying to ease their disappointment.

“He doesn’t want anything to do with us,” said Rebecca.

“The owner of the guest ranch next door said he had plenty of good-­looking cowboys,” Chelsea said, glancing across the neighboring fields. “Maybe we should check out his place.”

“No!” Bree gasped. “You can’t.”

“Why not?” Katelyn demanded.

“Because . . .” Bree scanned their faces and grasped the first idea that came to
mind. “Because then you would miss the dance.”

“What dance?” the three asked in unison.

She couldn’t afford to lose the corporate contract by making the women unhappy. “The dance we’re having Saturday night in the barn. Everyone we know will be there.”

“Cute cowboys?” Rebecca asked hopefully.

“Lots of them,” Bree promised, and the three CEOs’ faces lit up with delight.

“We
can wear the new cowgirl dresses we bought when we went shopping,” Chelsea said with excitement.

“And the jewelry Bree made for us,” Katelyn added.

Rebecca let out a loud whoop as she took the hat on her head and tossed it into the air. “Imagine us—­dancing with a gorgeous bunch of real western cowboys!”

Bree smiled. She, too, had high hopes for the dance. Except
she
imagined what
it might be like to finally dance with
Ryan
.

Chapter Eight

R
YAN SAT DOWN
at the table for a steak and egg breakfast with Cody, his brothers, Mom, and Dad. Most mornings they didn’t have time for breakfast together, but this morning Dad said he had important news to share.

“Aunt Mary’s field was salted last night,” Dad said, his face grim.

Ryan froze with a forkful of steak halfway to his mouth. “The field she agreed
to lease to
us
?”

His father nodded. “Yes. And since that field was the only one salted, you can bet whoever did it is the same person who salted ours.”

Ryan dropped the fork on his plate with a clatter, his mind on his last visit to the Owenses’. “The last time I visited
that barn I told you about
,” Ryan said, glancing at Cody and choosing his words carefully, “the bags of rock salt were
missing. He had a new supply of horse supplements sitting there instead.”

“I checked with the local supply company and no one has bought any rock salt since early winter,” Zach told him. “But the road crew who deices our roads said about a month ago they had several bags of rock salt stolen off the backs of their trucks.”

Dean smirked. “Of course.”

“Josh, have you talked to all the
boys in the area who own a crop duster?” their father asked.

“I’m heading over to Fred Johnson’s place right after breakfast,” Josh informed them. “He has a crop duster and I hear he’s been real friendly with Ow—­”

Ryan coughed and sent him a warning look. Josh’s face flushed as he glanced at Cody, then he said, “I mean . . . well, you know who.”

“I’ll go with you,” Ryan said, pushing
back his plate.

“You didn’t finish your food,” his mom protested.

Ryan gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “I’ll eat plenty when all of this is over,” he promised.

“When
what’s
over?” Cody asked.

Ryan gave his son a reassuring smile. “When we’re done catching the bad guys who ruined our fields.”

“You could ask Grandpa Owens to help you,” Cody suggested. “He knows lots of bad
guys.”

Ryan snapped his head around to look at him. “Like who, Cody?”

Cody swallowed another bite of his eggs, then answered, “Some guy named Roy. He told Grandpa Owens that if he didn’t get his money he’d dump salt all over him and bury him in it.”

Josh pushed back his chair and jumped up from the table, his eyes wide. “Roy Paulson has a crop duster.”

Ryan nodded and glanced back
at his son. “Thanks, Cody. Looks like
you
might have just helped find our bad guy.”

B
REE SPENT THE
next several days cleaning out the front of the hay barn to prepare for the dance. The cobwebs had been knocked down, the hay had all been stacked against the back wall, and the ground had been raked. Now all they had to do was decorate. Delaney helped when she wasn’t giving their guests horseback
riding lessons, and Sammy Jo was due to arrive any minute.

Unraveling a few feet of the white streamers she planned to string from the rafters, Bree twirled around, dreaming of Ryan’s arms embracing her as they danced the night away. She closed her eyes and imagined breathing in his clean, earthy scent as he drew her close, leaned his head toward hers . . . and his lips touched her own.

He’d almost kissed her the other night after her impromptu trail ride. She was sure of it. The longing had been in his eyes and the connective spark between them had nearly crackled the air. She had no doubt that when he danced with her on Saturday he’d finally kiss her for real.

She let out a happy sigh, and when she opened her eyes she saw Sammy Jo standing in the doorway. “Come on in,” she
said, waving to her. “We’ve got a lot to do.”

Sammy Jo hesitated before stepping forward. “You’re not . . . mad?”

Bree closed the gap between them and gave her a hug. “No, not anymore. You were right. I needed to get back in the saddle and ride.”

Sammy Jo picked up another roll of streamers. But instead of using it to decorate, she kept scrunching the thin, white crepe paper around
in her hands and glancing up at the ceiling.

Bree frowned. “What’s wrong?”

Sammy Jo’s expression didn’t ease but only became more strained. In fact, she’d never seen her friend look so nervous. “We need to talk.”

Oh, no. Those infamous four words never came before anything good. Bree dropped the streamers onto a table, gave her friend her full attention, and braced herself for the
worst. Had someone died? Was Sammy Jo in trouble? Was Sammy Jo mad at
her
?

“Just spit it out,” Bree said, unable to wait a second longer.

Sammy Jo nodded. “It’s about Ryan.”

Ryan?
Bree’s stomach lurched. “Is he okay? Did something happen to him?”

“He’s fine,” Sammy Jo assured her. “It’s just that . . . over the last ­couple of months Ryan and I have been kind of . . . dating.”

“What?”
Bree demanded. Her ears buzzed and she couldn’t be sure she’d heard right.

“Only a few times here and there. He didn’t have anyone else to go out with and neither did I,” Sammy Jo explained, wringing her hands.

Bree suddenly felt ill and sat herself down in a nearby chair. Even when she was in New York, she and Sammy Jo had texted each other almost every week with some sort
of news or information and
never once
had her friend mentioned anything about hooking up with Fox Creek’s most popular cowboy.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she whispered.

Sammy Jo circled her chair to face her. “Because I knew you were disgusted with him and I thought if you found out you’d be upset with me, too.”

At the moment Bree was more upset with herself for dreaming of Ryan. How
did she let that happen when she
knew
he was nothing but a notorious flirt with everyone he came in contact with? Was she
that
desperate after her ex dumped her? Did she subconsciously need Ryan’s attention to make herself feel good again?

“See?” Sammy Jo continued. “I
knew
you’d look at me like that. You think I’m crazy. After all, there could never be any future between us. Ryan’s never
been serious about anyone he’s dated, including his ex-­wife. Everyone knows he only married Gail because he made a mistake and got her pregnant. But don’t worry. Now that you, Luke, and Delaney are back, things have changed, and I’m going to break it off with him.”

“You don’t have to stop dating Ryan because of me,” Bree assured her.

“No—­not because of you, but because of . . .
Luke
.”

Bree wondered if her hearing really
was
failing her. “My
brother
, Luke?”

“I know.” Sammy Jo glanced up at the ceiling again and let out a nervous laugh. “He’s the ‘boy next door,’ right?”

“He’s younger than you.”

“Only by a year.”

“You teased him terrible when we were kids,” Bree reminded her. “I don’t think he’s ever got over it. Whenever you come by he tends to run the other
way.”

Sammy Jo pursed her lips. “I noticed. But . . . oh, Bree, I really
like
him. I’ve always liked him. Maybe that’s why I teased him so much.”

Bree shook her head, unable to fathom her friend dating her brother any more than she could her friend dating Ryan. “But—­of all ­people . . .
Luke?
”

Sammy Jo nodded. “Do you think he’ll dance with me?”

“He told me he doesn’t think he
can dance with a cane in one hand, but I’m sure if you asked, he’d dance with you—­if you begged him hard enough,” Bree said, forcing a smile.

Sammy Jo laughed, her face aglow with anticipation. “So how do I tell Ryan I don’t want to go to the dance with him?”

Bree gasped. “You’re asking
me
for advice?”

“If Ryan sees me with Luke what will he think? I don’t want to hurt his feelings.”

“Oh, I don’t think you can hurt a guy like Ryan,” Bree said, her voice catching in the back of her throat as she said his name. “He’s a chick magnet. He’ll get himself another cowgirl quicker than you can blink. Besides, you said it yourself—­he’s never been serious about anyone.”

“You’re right,” Sammy Jo agreed. “Since when have we ever seen Ryan
without
a female on his arm?”

Bree’s
chest tightened. “Never.”

She stood up to resume the decorating, but her heart was no longer in it. Her daydreams of dancing had already been swept away with the dust.

R
YAN PACED BACK
and forth in front of the Fox Creek Café waiting for Sammy Jo to arrive. He hadn’t seen her in weeks, but as soon as Bree called to invite his family to the barn dance he knew it was time he broke it off
with Sammy Jo for good. They’d only had casual dates, but he didn’t want Sammy Jo’s feelings to be hurt if she saw him dancing with Bree.

His stomach clenched and his nerves were all out of whack. He never liked having to tell a woman he didn’t want to date her anymore. Many of them cried. Some of them even begged him to reconsider. But Sammy Jo was tougher than most and he didn’t think she’d
react that way.

At least, he hoped she wouldn’t.

Sammy Jo pulled her pickup to a stop in front of him and jumped out, her usual big, bright smile absent from her face. Maybe she already knew why he’d asked her to meet him here.

“Hey, Ryan,” she greeted,
not
kissing him on the cheek as was her custom. “I’m so glad you called, because I need to talk to you, too.”

They each took a
chair under the umbrella table outside the café entrance. Ryan gestured toward the menus. “If you want to order something, I’ll pay—­”

“No,” Sammy Jo said, shaking her long, dark curls. “I’d rather get right to the point. You heard Bree is having a barn dance?”

“Yes . . . I did.” He leaned toward her. “You know I think you’re great, right?”

Sammy Jo nodded. “Yeah, and we’ve had fun
hanging out together, but—­”

“
But . . .
we both know it wasn’t serious, right?”

Sammy Jo exhaled and her face lit up with her usual smile.
“Right.”

Was she
happy
about this? Ryan hesitated. “And you’ll be okay if we just remain friends?”

“More than okay,” Sammy Jo said, her eyes shining. “In fact, I was hoping to dance with someone else.”

“Me, too,” Ryan admitted. “Thanks for
making this so easy.”

Sammy Jo laughed. “No problem. Can I ask who the lucky lady is?”

“Not until I actually ask her.” He leaned back in his chair. “What about you? Who’s your new guy?”

“Oh, I—­” Another smile touched her lips. “I can’t hand out any details yet either.”

Ryan grinned. “Okay. I guess we’ll let it be a surprise.”

S
ATURDAY NIGHT CAME
all too quick. Maybe if Bree
had more time to plan, more time to send out invitations, she could have drawn in more handsome, eligible men to appease the three CEOs.

“So where are they?” Chelsea demanded. “The hot cowboys you promised?”

Katelyn waved her hand toward Bree’s father and his friends, all wearing their shiniest belt buckles and fanciest Stetsons. “All of these guys are
old
.”

“Yeah,” Rebecca chimed
in. “We want men our age who we can date.”

“Not everyone is here yet,” Bree assured them. When she’d learned three high-­profile professionals were coming to the ranch to scout out a place for their corporate retreat, never in a million years did she think hooking them up with hot, young cowboys would be a prerequisite to securing the contract. She glanced toward the few stragglers strolling
through the double-­door opening and prayed for a miracle.

She had invited the Tanners, hoping Ryan’s brothers would turn the CEOs’ heads, but it didn’t look like any of them were going to show. Not even Ryan.

Her spirits plummeted. The dance was a disaster. Not only in the eyes of the three women but for herself as well. Despite what she’d said to Sammy Jo about Ryan, she’d still hoped
to dance with him. What woman wouldn’t?

“I wish you could dance with your father,” Ma said, pulling her aside.

Bree stiffened. She and her father
dance
? Often it was hard enough just being in the same room with him. Besides, the man was still in a wheelchair.

The day after her gallop on Equinox, she and Delaney had driven their father to the doctor’s office to get his leg checked.
Bree apologized for her behavior on her birthday and thanked her father for the birthday gift. But to her horror, she found out her father had sold the horse earlier that morning and the new owner had already come to take the gelding away.

“Dad, how
could
you?” Delaney cried.

“Bree said she didn’t want it,” their father said, exasperation behind each word. “And we couldn’t afford the cost
of feeding an extra horse no one was going to ride.”

“But she
did
ride,” Del exclaimed.

Bree nodded and her father gave her a look of disbelief. “First you didn’t want the horse and now you do?”

That had been on Tuesday and he’d been in a foul mood ever since. She didn’t blame him for being confused, but did he have to sell the horse so quick?

Bree glanced at her mother, who awaited
a response. “The doctor said Dad’s leg is healing, but he can’t dance or be near others who may bump into him.”

Ma sighed. “I know. It was only a wish. I can’t dance with him either. Do you think I can convince Luke to dance?”

Glancing across the room, Bree watched her brother brush off Sammy Jo and said, “I don’t think he plans to dance with anyone.”

“Well, then,” Ma said, capturing
her granddaughter’s hand as she went by, “I’ll just have to dance with Meghan.”

Bree snapped her fingers. “Ma, you just gave me an idea!”

Luke might refuse everyone else, but he wouldn’t refuse Meghan. A fact that just might help Sammy Jo, if they all played their parts right.

As Bree took out her cell phone, she watched Cody walk into the barn with his grandma, Mrs. Owens, and quickly
texted.
Come ASAP!
Then, when Sammy Jo and Delaney met her by the punch table, she quickly hashed out her plan.