Her Montana Cowboy. Jeannie Watt

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СКАЧАТЬ his Uncle Thad, had been something. Even though he would still fill in as needed, the patrons of the popular Gavin, Montana, bar had treated the event as a wake. Some brought food. Others brought gag gifts, which was why he now had a temporary tattoo of an anchor on the back of his neck and a lip print on his forehead. One of the college girls had offered him a particularly personal going away present, but he’d gently turned her down. He wouldn’t miss the nightly headaches of the pub, but he would miss the people. The majority of them, anyway.

      He slowed as he rounded a series of corners, watching the edge of road as his headlights cut through the darkness. The snow was mostly melted—for now, anyway. Late spring snow and ice storms were a regular occurrence, and since the H/H Ranch still had a number of cows to calve out, there was certain to be one last nasty storm, which would probably coincide with a particularly difficult birth. But for the time being, the new grass was growing and the deer were active as they moved from the valleys to the foothills, following the melt and new growth. He’d had a close call the night before with a large doe and wasn’t all that keen to have another one.

      As he topped the hill, he could just see the ranch yard lights in the distance. The place that had been his home since he was fifteen would now be his sole place of employment. He’d essentially worked full-time on the ranch for the past several months, as Salvatore, the H/H’s aging ranch manager, came to terms with the fact that he couldn’t do as much as he once could. Then, after the ranch work was done for the day, Gus put in full shifts at the pub four or five nights a week. The schedule had been grueling—especially during calving season—but Thad had needed the help and Sal needed time. Now Sal was living with his brother in Dillon, and Gus was done double shifting. It’d been easier to hire a good bartender than a good ranch manager, and he had no doubt that Ginny Monroe was more than up to the task of running the bar with Thad. And Thad liked her...maybe more than he wanted to let on.

      Go, Ginny. Thad had been single for too darned long.

      Gus was smiling at the thought of Ginny easing Thad out of his long bachelorhood as he started back down the hill, driving on the wrong side of the dirt road to avoid the hellacious mud puddle that had formed at the bottom, just around the blind corner. The smile abruptly disappeared as he rounded the corner and found the back end of a giant car directly in front of him. He swung hard to the left, then pulled back onto the road and eased to a stop after barely missing the vehicle. Mystified, he grabbed his flashlight out of the door-panel pocket and got out of his truck, walked back to the car and shined the light on the license plate.

      Texas?

      What was a gas-guzzling vehicle from Texas doing stuck in the mud on the ranch driveway? No one, save parcel delivery rigs and seasonal hunters, ventured onto this road. Gus pushed back his hat, then stilled as he caught a movement inside the car.

      It looked like he was about to get an answer to his question...or so he thought before the head in the car ducked out of sight.

      Huh.

      He moved closer and bent forward in an attempt to see through the darkly tinted windows into the interior of the car, wondering if someone had left their dog inside to guard the car while they went for help. No...that was definitely a person in there, hunched down in the seat. Probably scared.

      “Hi,” he called. “I live on this road. Do you need some help?”

      Obviously they needed help, since their car was axle-deep in the mud.

      For a moment there was no movement, and then the person leaned across the seat and turned the key, then rolled the window down about an inch.

      “I’m Gus Hawkins. I live about five miles down the road. Can I call someone or give you a lift?”

      “You live on the H/H Ranch?”

      The voice was feminine. Husky. Nervous.

      “I do.”

      “Oh.”

      Gus waited for more. He didn’t get it. “Is that where you were going?”

      “Yes. I...uh...thought that Thaddeus Hawkins lived there. Is he a relative?”

      His insides went cold when the woman mentioned Thad’s name. Oh, please, not again.

      “He’s my uncle.”

      A shiver went through her as she stared up at him through three-inch opening in the window. He had no idea who she was, or what her intentions were toward his uncle, but he couldn’t leave her there to spend the night in her car.

      “Look—it’s cold out here. Do you want a lift?”

      “I...uh...yes. Thank you.” She scooched back across the seat and got out of the passenger side, a small dog under her arm and what looked a whole lot like a tire iron in one hand.

      “You aren’t going to conk me with that and steal my truck, are you?” he asked, starting to rethink his offer of a lift. “Because if you are, you should know that there isn’t enough fuel to get back to town.”

      In the reflected lights of the headlamps, it looked as if the woman was blushing. “I have no designs on your truck.”

      “Good to know.” He smiled, trying to look friendly, while still wondering if he wanted a woman carrying a tire iron riding with him. “These are unusual circumstances and we can sort things out when we get to the ranch, but right now I gotta tell you it makes me nervous having you armed like that.”

      “I don’t understand.”

      “I don’t know you,” he explained. You might be crazy.

      “I don’t know you,” she pointed out as the little dog lifted his lip to show his teeth in a ridiculous display of bravado.

      “I’m not carrying a big chunk of metal to hit you with. Besides—you know my name. I don’t know yours. Or why you’re here.”

      “My name is...Lillie Jean. The rest I’ll discuss with Thaddeus.”

      Gus closed his eyes, then quickly opened them again. She was carrying a tire iron, after all. “How do you suggest we come to a compromise, Lillie Jean?”

      It took her less than a second to say, “Pull me out?”

      Just what he wanted to do at 2:00 a.m. He jerked his head toward his warm truck. “Grab your tire iron and let’s go.”

      “To the ranch.”

      “Yes.” Now that he knew she was there to see Thad, he wanted to keep an eye on her. The last incident might have been online, but Thad coming so close to losing so much money had Gus on alert. For all he knew Thad may have met this woman online, and she was here for... He hated to think.

      She didn’t move, so he added, “You can either come with me, or stay with your car. There is no option c.”

      It might have been the swirl of icy wind sweeping by them that decided her, but whatever the reason, she gave a nod, hugging her dog a little closer as she did so.

      “Let me get my bag.”

      Instead of following instinct and offering to help, Gus stood back as she awkwardly balanced dog and tire iron while dragging a zippered gym bag out СКАЧАТЬ