Her Montana Cowboy. Jeannie Watt

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       CHAPTER FOUR

      LILLIE JEAN WAS HOT, in the angry sense, and maybe she had reason. Gus rubbed his forehead, then dropped his hand back to his side. Her eyes were pretty much spitting blue fire, but there was something else there besides outrage. Hurt, maybe? She gave the impression of being a woman who expected to be trusted. A woman not accustomed to having her honesty questioned. She was either truly insulted, or she was a very good actress—as an effective scam artist would be.

      He needed more information.

      He met her angry gaze and said, “Try to see my side of things. You show up out of nowhere, claim to be related to a man I didn’t know existed and twist my uncle into a knot.”

      “I twisted nothing. Not your uncle. Not the truth.”

      “Sometimes,” he said, fully aware that he was about to insult her again, “people have been known to do deep research and pretend to be people they are not, for personal gain.”

      Anger shifted to ice. “I’m not one of them and you have a lot of nerve insinuating that I am.”

      “Lillie Jean.” Her name felt odd on his tongue, as if saying it somehow made their relationship more intimate, which was nuts. “Until we have all this ironed out, I’m going to have my suspicions. I’d be stupid not to.”

      She pushed her hands deep into her coat pockets and shivered. These were not temperatures she was used to. Her cheeks and the tip of her nose were red, while the rest of her face was pale, making the blue-green color of her eyes more intense. She wore no makeup and a smattering of light freckles showed over her nose. Maybe that was part of her act. The sweet down-home girl without artifice.

      Or maybe it wasn’t an act at all.

      The one thing he was certain of was that, whether she was legit or not, she’d thrown a monkey wrench into his plans.

      He jerked his head in the direction of the ranch. “Let’s get back to where it’s warmer.”

      “Yes. Let’s.” There was a faint note of sarcasm in her voice, and maybe he couldn’t blame her, if she was legit.

      Big if.

      Gigantic if.

      He got into the tractor and waited until she pulled past him in the giant boat of a car with the Texas plates. Was it really her grandfather’s car? A prop? His head was starting to ache.

      Life had been so freaking simple only twenty-four hours ago, when he’d thought he was beginning a new chapter in his life. One he’d planned for so carefully. Those plans had not included Lillie Jean Hardaway.

      If that was her real name.

      * * *

      THAD LOOKED GRIM when Gus followed Lillie Jean into the house after the car rescue. She excused herself and headed down the hall, an overjoyed Henry prancing close behind her. Thad waited until they heard the door shut before saying, “I called Lyle’s accountant—the one Betts sends the checks to and she gave me the lawyer’s name. The lawyer’s assistant is calling me back within the hour.” Thad looked past Gus toward the hall where Lillie Jean had disappeared. “I need more time.”

      “When he calls, maybe you can nail down the reason they didn’t contact you the minute the will surfaced?”

      The bedroom door opened again and he and Thad exchanged looks.

      “I think she should stay here until we know more.” Thad shifted his weight in the chair. “If she’s who she says she is, we need to talk. If she’s not, we need to know. I want all the facts before we make any kind of decision.”

      “I agree.” The door closed, and footsteps sounded on the old wooden floorboards. “In fact, I have some work to do.”

      “Guess you could use some company,” Thad murmured in a low voice as Henry danced into the kitchen without his reindeer sweater. “Maybe show our guest some country.”

      “Uh-huh.” There were heavy cows to check, a hole in the fence line between the H/H and Carson Craig’s ranch, which the King of Montana demanded be fixed, even though it was a joint boundary and they were both responsible for upkeep and repair. As near as he could tell, Carson’s idea of joint maintenance was for him to order Thad to fix the damned fence. Now.

      An uncomfortable silence settled over the room as Lillie Jean entered, and then Thad said to Gus in an overly casual voice, “You better get going before Craig has kittens.”

      Gus gave a nod and glanced over at Lillie Jean. “You want to ride along?”

      Instant suspicion. “Where?”

      “I have to fix a hole in the fence. You’ve come this far, you may as well see some of the ranch before it snows.”

      “Snow?” She looked shocked.

      “Supposed to have snow tomorrow.”

      She glanced over at Thad who nodded. “But the forecast changes hourly. May not be any snow at all. But if you want to go, I’ll babysit your little dog,” he said in a reassuring tone. “And when you get back we’ll have a sit-down.”

      “Or the dog can come with us,” Gus said. Dumb sweater and all.

      Lillie Jean’s jaw shifted sideways, as if she was well aware that she was being played. “All right. Yes. I’d like to see some of the property.” She glanced down at her dog, who was giving her a beseeching “don’t abandon me” stare. “I’ll leave Henry here where it’s warm.”

      “I’ll enjoy the company,” Thad said, making Gus wonder if maybe his uncle needed a dog of his own.

      Henry didn’t look all that pleased with the decision, but when Thad reached down and scooped him up with one big hand, the little dog settled on his lap, watching Lillie Jean closely as she gestured toward the coats hanging on hooks next to the back door in the mudroom. “Maybe I could borrow a warmer coat?”

      “Sure, but I promise it’ll be plenty warm in the truck.”

      “Unless you break down,” Thad said, idly scratching Henry’s ear.

      Was that a hint?

      “Good point,” Gus said. He headed into the mudroom where he pulled his spare coat off a hook and handed it to Lillie Jean. She slipped into it, put her hands in the pockets and then grimaced. No matter how many times a guy turned his pockets inside out and beat on them, there was always bits of itchy hay there. He reached for a new pair of gloves and handed them to her.

      “No hay,” he said. “You might want to grab one of those fleece hats in the basket.”