Montana Hearts: Her Weekend Wrangler (19 page)

“Aunt Mary,” Ryan said, catching the older woman’s eye. “Bree and I have to get back. We have a
date
tonight.”

“About time,” his aunt exclaimed. “Now I
can rest in peace.”

Ryan quirked his brow at Aunt Mary’s choice of words, then watched her brush her hand over the mare and filly, and turn toward Bree one more time.

“Take good care of them,” his aunt told her.

Bree shot a glance toward the horses. “Don’t worry, I will.”

Aunt Mary smiled again, and this time she winked. “I meant Ryan and Cody.”

Bree looked at him, with another
blush on her face, and he would have liked more than anything to have prolonged that moment, but his cell phone rang, and when he looked at the caller ID he saw that it was the sheriff.

“Shane McGrath confessed to everything,” the sheriff said in a gush. “The salt, the supplement, and the skunk. And he wasn’t working alone either. You know I’m not supposed to discuss the case, but as a
friend
, I thought I should warn you.”

Ryan froze. “Did the realtor give you a name?”

“Susan and Wade Randall.”

“The Collinses’ runaway ranch managers?” Ryan asked, surprised. He’d been sure the sheriff had been about to name the Owenses and dreaded the fact he might now owe them an apology.

“Yep, Sue and Wade still haven’t been found either. It’s best you keep that in mind.”

“I will,”
Ryan said, and clenched his teeth as he hung up the phone.

He wouldn’t let
anyone
bring harm to Bree . . . or her family.

B
REE HAD LOOKED
forward to seeing Ryan dress up again, like he had for the dance, but instead he showed up for their date wearing old boots, jeans, and a brown sweatshirt that was three shades darker than his eyes and hair. And he looked just as handsome.

He’d asked
her to dress casual, too, so she put back the skirt and blouse she’d intended to wear and chose the cornflower blue jacket she wore on trail rides, jeans, and, okay, she
had
to wear her new blue suede boots with her newly crafted sapphire boot bling chain around the ankle.

“A hike, huh?” Bree asked, eyeing the backpack on the seat of his truck.

Ryan nodded. “And a sunset picnic atop the
F.”

The giant letter
F
on the hillside above town was made of whitewashed rocks the high school kids had gathered in generations past to stand for Fox Creek. Originally there had been a
C
to accompany the
F
, but the upkeep of two letters had been too much for the town and the
C
had eventually faded back into the landscape.

When they arrived at the trailhead, Ryan slipped the straps of
the backpack over his shoulders and took her hand. “You know the
FC
once had a different meaning associated to it besides Fox Creek?”

Bree shook her head. “Where did you hear that?”

“My mother told me while I packed the food for our trip.”

“Okay,” Bree said, playing along. “You’ve got me interested. What else did the letters
FC
stand for?”

Ryan turned his head to look at her and
said, “Friendship and Community.”

Bree thought that was a good choice as they climbed eight hundred and fifty feet in elevation to the two-­hundred-­and-­fifty-­foot-­long letter. The trail was easy, enjoyed by countless families with dogs and children, and took about an hour to ascend.

“Hi, Bree,” an old acquaintance who worked in the general store greeted her as they crossed paths. “Call
me and let’s meet for lunch sometime soon.”

Mr. Dixon, who owned Hidden Treasure Saddlery, came toward them on his way down. “Good to see you, Tanner. Tell your father I have his new saddle strap ready for pickup.”

Mrs. Lane from the bank led her two granddaughters up the trail in front of them, and because the kids walked at a slower pace, she told Bree and Ryan to go around them and
their Labrador.

“Boots would enjoy this hike,” Bree said, glancing at some of the other dogs on the trail ahead. “I haven’t hiked up to the F in years. I forgot what a social gathering place it could be. Not what I expected from you, Tanner.”

Ryan grinned. “What did you expect?”

“Someplace . . . more private?”

“We’ll take the trail up higher,” Ryan assured her. “Not as many ­people
go all the way to the top.”

He was right. Both the crowd and the trail thinned once they left the main branch that ran along the bottom of the giant letter. Ryan handed her a water bottle and they sat on a large split log bench. “There’s nothing like this view of the town, the rolling hills, the distant peaks. I know you think I’m crazy for wanting to stay in Fox Creek, but I’ve traveled to
other places over the last few years. I even spent three months living in Chicago before Cody was born, and there’s no place like home.”

“You’re not crazy.” Bree smiled. “You have a tight-­knit family who loves you. I think that makes a big difference.”

“Your family loves you. They just have a different way of expressing it,” Ryan assured her. Then he pointed toward something in the distance.
“Do you see that shiny green metal roof?”

She found the one he referred to. “What is it?”

“A covered arena on twenty acres of land with a small house, a stable, and two barns. I think I might buy it and turn it into a training facility.”

Bree stared at him and the dreams from her younger days returned to haunt her. “I used to want to open a training facility.”

“You still can,”
he said, cupping the side of her face. “We could train horses together.”

Not if she went back to New York.

Bree thought about the two very different futures that had been presented to her and weighed the benefits of each as she watched the sun go down.

A strip of yellow lay miles away on the horizon and above it a layer of orange fading into shades of pink. Above them, the vast sky
was still true blue with an abundance of fluffy white clouds that looked soft as silk. And beside her, Ryan, looking as handsome as ever, laid out their picnic dinner: ham and cheese sandwiches on homemade rye, with a side of red grapes, whole wheat crackers, and a bottle of champagne.

“You were right,” she conceded. “Coming up here was a good choice.”

“Good?” he teased, pulling on the
champagne bottle and popping the cork. “I want this to be
perfect
.”

“What are we celebrating?” she asked, taking the long-­stemmed glass he offered.

He gazed into her eyes, then clinked his glass against hers. “The fact we’re here.”

Sometimes life got so crazy Bree forgot what it was like to let go of all her worries and enjoy the moment. Leaning forward, she kissed him on the lips.
“This
is
perfect.”

He kissed her back. Then after they ate and finished off the champagne, he pulled her close. “How do you feel about kids, Bree. Do you ever plan to have any of your own?”

The question caught her off guard. “Of course. Maybe. Someday.”

“And a place of your own?”

Bree remembered what the “banana peel” CEO had said about
her
date with him, and frowned. “Are you
trying to figure out if I live up to your Ideal Woman List?”

He laughed. “My
what
?”

Bree pulled back and her heart slammed into her chest. “Your Ideal Woman List. Sammy Jo said you had one. A list that describes the perfect woman for you?”

She’d never seen Ryan look so amused. “If I have a list,” he told her, “
I’m
not aware of it.”

“Confident, caring, playful, talented, sexy, beautiful,
brown-­eyed, brunette, loves horses, loves children?” she rattled off.

Ryan laughed even harder. “You just described yourself.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, narrowing her gaze. “I’m not—­” Bree hesitated. “Do you think—­” She shook her head. “But you can’t possibly believe that I—­”

“You are all those things,” Ryan assured her. “One time when Sammy Jo jokingly asked what I wanted,
I thought of you. I never realized it until about a month ago when you returned, but all I’ve
ever
wanted was you.”

He took her face in his hands and drew her back toward him. Then he kissed her, his mouth tasting like sweet champagne and stirring her emotions into something just as bubbly. She thought of the training facility he’d mentioned, she thought of Cody, and she thought of having
someone want her as much as Ryan promised with
this
kiss. A kiss that almost made her believe she could stay on top of the world forever. A kiss that made her believe that maybe . . . just maybe . . . all things
were
possible.

“What about love?” she whispered.

Ryan lifted his head and tightened his arms around her. Then looking her straight in the eye, he said, “I love you.”

A snort
from a few feet away startled her, making her jump. “Don’t believe him, Bree,” Mrs. Owens warned. “He says that to all the girls.”

Bree glanced back at Ryan. He appeared as startled as she was.

“What are you doing here?” he demanded.

Mrs. Owens looked up into the sky. “I hike up here every Saturday evening to be closer to Gail. Except two months ago, I missed a week when I went to
Wyoming.”

Bree stared at her. “Wyoming? Did Susan Randall happen to call you while you were there?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.” Mrs. Owens glanced back at her and scowled. “We
were
neighbors for the last eight months.”

“Have you heard from her since she and her husband left?”

Mrs. Owens’s expression turned dark. “Don’t you think I’d tell you if I had?”

Bree stared at the woman,
her mind racing. “I don’t know.”

Ryan stood up, clearly frustrated by the interruption, and gave Mrs. Owens a nod. “Thank you for stopping by, Olivia, but don’t you have somewhere else you need to be?”

“Yes, I do,” Mrs. Owens replied as she continued to glower at the two of them. “Gail and I will have
lots
to talk about tonight.”

S
UNDAY DAWNED SOONER
than Ryan would have liked. But
he scrambled out of bed and by nine a.m. he and his brothers had already fed the cows, checked on a few of the young calves, and moved part of the herd to a different field after a few broke through the fence. Then after church the chores continued, much to the excitement of the three Iridescent Beauty execs from Bree’s ranch; they insisted on staying at their place today instead of spending time
with her.

Ryan wished
he
could spend more time with her, but he’d already been shifting more work than he should have onto his brothers’ shoulders and he needed to put in a full day himself for once. Rubbing some of Bree’s grandmother’s lavender soap over his arms, he went into the mare’s stall to bring her and the filly out into the cross-­ties. The mare appeared to trust him now, probably
due to the groundwork they’d been doing in the round pen rather than the lavender, but he wasn’t taking any chances. And he still preferred to have them stand in the aisle while he mucked out their stall so he wouldn’t have to worry about being bit or kicked.

He’d had enough trouble the night before when Mrs. Owens came up the hillside to interrupt his date. After she left, he and Bree had
talked and kissed some more, but the intimacy they’d established earlier had fallen away.

Next time he took Bree out, he’d take her to a place where there was no chance they could be disturbed—­a place with a lock and key.

He heard a mingle of laughter and voices behind him, and when he turned he saw Cody and their three female guests heading his way.

“Hi, Ryan,” Rebecca said, smiling.
In fact, the woman hadn’t
stopped
smiling since her date with Josh. He’d asked his brother what that was about, but Josh had only shrugged and given him a big goofy grin. Rebecca continued, “Cody said he’d show us the filly.”

“Oh, there she is,” Chelsea crooned. “Isn’t she cute?”

“Her name’s Morning Glory,” Cody said proudly.

“Adorable name, too,” Katelyn added.

“I’ll tell you
what’s
adorable
,” Mr. Owens shouted, stomping down the aisle behind them. He glared at Ryan. “The fact you had the women stay with you instead of me. Your ranch isn’t even set up to accommodate guests.”

“We’re doing just fine,” Chelsea assured him.

“I bet you are,” Merle growled. “But if I don’t get that corporate contract, my wife is going to
divorce
me! And if she does, I’m going to
blame
you
, Tanner!”

Cody and the CEOs moved aside, fear and astonishment on each of their faces. Ryan left the mare and stepped forward, surprised as much as the rest of them by the man’s sudden appearance. “What do you want from me, Merle?”

“Why?” he spat. “Are you going to make me one of your little
deals
? It’s too late for that.”

Balling his fist, Mr. Owens swung his arm back and
then hit Ryan square across the jaw, knocking him backward into a loose pile of hay.

Ryan heard Cody’s voice scream,
“Dad!”

He also heard the three CEOs’ concerned, high-­pitched shrieks as they ran over to him.

“Ryan, are you okay?” Chelsea asked, hovering over his face. The blow had stung and the skin along the side of his chin was raw, but yes, he was okay.

“Look this way, girls.”

The CEOs turned their heads and looked. So did Ryan. And Mr. Owens snapped a picture using the camera on his cell phone.

“What an
adorable
photo,” Merle said, and chuckled. “I bet your financial backers will think so, too, don’t you, girls? When we were at the dance, didn’t one of you mention you’d received money from a conservative corporation who only supports those with high moral standards?”

The CEOs’ mouths dropped open.

“All you have to do is give me the corporate contract,” Merle continued, “and I’ll hit delete.”

Unbelievable.
He was trying to blackmail them!

“We . . . we
can’t
,” Katelyn said, shaking her head.