Montana Wrangler. Charlotte Carter

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      Even from several hundred feet, she caught the earthy animal scent, which almost overwhelmed the more pleasant perfume of pine trees.

      She wrinkled her nose. Did everyone in Montana have to own a horse?

      She’d been terrified of horses almost as long as she could remember. Their size. Their big teeth. And that she’d been dumped from the saddle when she was five years old. A memory she couldn’t forget and one that still gave her nightmares. A broken leg. Pain. Surgery that left a scar she could still see.

      Her mother upset and angry because she had to stay home to take care of Paige instead of working at the family’s hardware store.

      Everything about Bear Lake and the outfitting business was entirely different from Paige’s life and her career in Seattle. In the same way, Paige and her younger sister Krissy had had little in common.

      Krissy had loved horses, loved riding them, the faster the better. Four days ago, not far from here, riding a horse too fast, jumping the horse too far, had killed Krissy.

      Growing up, everyone had said Krissy was the pretty sister. The fun-loving sister. Paige was the good sister. The plain sister.

      Being pretty hadn’t done Krissy much good.

      “My sister shouldn’t have died so young,” she said aloud, as though accusing the horses in the corral.

      “If she hadn’t been riding so recklessly,” a smooth baritone voice announced, “Krissy wouldn’t have died, and I wouldn’t have had to put a good horse down.”

      Thinking that she’d been alone, she started. Turning, she discovered Jay Red Elk had walked silently up onto the porch and was now looming over her. Considering she was a good five foot seven or eight, depending on which pair of high heels she wore, that was quite a feat.

      Of course, her grandfather’s wrangler and trail guide stood well over six feet. His unreadable expression and more than a hint of his Blackfoot heritage in his chiseled cheekbones made him an intimidating figure. Not that she had any intention of backing down to him.

      She realized during her occasional visits to Montana in the past few years she hadn’t paid much attention to Jay and had purposefully kept her distance from him and his horses. Mostly his horses, she realized.

      Now she took a closer look at his hard, potently masculine physique, his closed expression and felt a shiver of awareness scurry down her spine.

      “Krissy was reckless from the day she was born,” Paige admitted, her throat tight with the tears she hadn’t shed. The wildness and rebellion ingrained in Krissy’s personality had culminated in her pregnancy at age fifteen. Their parents had sent her here to live with their grandparents and to raise her son, Bryan. Apparently the change of scenery hadn’t tamed her spirit.

      Jay rested his lean hips on the rustic porch railing and folded his arms across his broad chest. “She didn’t respect her horse or the land that is God’s gift to us. Perhaps if she had lived longer, she might have grown more wise.”

      Shaking her head, Paige wasn’t at all sure age would have changed her sister. She was surprised, however, to hear the depth of caring in Jay’s voice. Perhaps living so close to the land, guiding others through the nearby wilderness areas, had given him a respect for both his horses and the rest of the Lord’s creations. She could admire that in a man.

      “There were quite a few people at the funeral this morning. She must have had a lot of friends.” Paige, who often found herself in her sister’s shadow, had envied Krissy her popularity, but not the arguments and fights she perpetually had with their parents. Those battles had sent Paige fleeing to the safety of her room to hide behind a closed door.

      “Bear Lake’s a small town,” Jay said. “Friendly, for the most part. Everyone knew Krissy. Some more than others.”

      She winced, suspecting those who knew Krissy the best were men eager to take advantage of her. The few relationships Krissy had talked about during Paige’s infrequent visits had seemed like disasters in the making.

      Despite herself, Paige wondered what the relationship had been between Jay and her sister. Had he succumbed to Krissy’s charms? Not that it was any of her concern.

      “I would have thought you and Krissy would have had a lot in common.” Two attractive people. Horse lovers. How could they not have found themselves drawn to each other?

      She felt his eyes, shadowed beneath the brim of his hat, surveying her. “Krissy wasn’t my type.”

      No? What was his type, she wondered.

      “Bryan seems pretty quiet for a kid,” she said, intentionally shifting her thoughts away from Krissy. Although Paige always sent Bryan birthday and Christmas gifts, she hadn’t spent too much time one-on-one with him. In recent years during her short visits, he much preferred to be outside with the horses than visiting with Aunt Paige. Now she wished she’d tried harder to get to know him. “How do you think he’s taking his mom’s death?”

      “Like any twelve-year-old, I guess. He loved his mother.” Pushing away from the railing, he shoved his fingertips in the hip pockets of his new jeans and stood looking past Paige toward the corral. Instead of his usual dusty work clothes, he’d worn a turquoise western-cut shirt with a silver bolo tie and a dressy black Stetson to the funeral service at the community church in town. He hadn’t changed yet. He thumbed his hat back to a rakish angle. “He’s confused. Missing her, I suppose. He spends most of his time either at school or with the horses anyway. He’s getting to be quite a good trail hand.”

      She shuddered at the thought of her young nephew spending so much of his time on a horse. Raised in Lewiston, in a small town in Montana prairie country, Paige was now a full-fledged city girl.

      “I hope Grandpa Henry doesn’t let Bryan go riding off by himself,” she said.

      Shifting his attention back to her, Jay’s startling blue-green eyes widened and his dark brows lifted. “Why not?”

      “Well, because he could get lost. Or hurt.” That seemed perfectly obvious to her. This was wilderness country.

      “If he got lost, he’d follow his own tracks back to where he started just like I’ve taught him.” Jay shrugged. “As for getting hurt, that can happen to any kid, even ones who live in a big city like Seattle. If you ask me, a kid’s better off living here than most any other place I could think of.”

      She disagreed, and certainly didn’t care for his attitude about the city she now called home. After all, Seattle had wonderful parks and schools, top-notch cultural activities and every sporting event imaginable.

      She lifted her chin. “I’m going to check on Grandpa. See if I can fix him something to eat.” The ladies of the church had provided a buffet lunch following the funeral service even though they hadn’t known Krissy well. But she’d noticed Grandpa had barely touched any of the salads or casseroles. “If you could round up Bryan, I’ll fix him something, too. Of course, you’re welcome to join us.”

      One corner of his firm lips lifted into an imitation of a smile. “Thanks. I’ll come in later.”

      * * *

      Jay waited a moment after Paige went inside, then stepped off the porch. He strolled to the СКАЧАТЬ