The Maverick's Summer Love. Christyne Butler

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      Rust Creek Falls had been hit hard over the Fourth of July holiday by what was now called the Great Montana Flood. Dean had been one of the first to answer the call for volunteers to help rebuild the town, and soon his entire family joined in, setting up shop in the cluster of trailers on the west end of town.

      Thankfully, most of the businesses in Rust Creek Falls were up and running again, except for the elementary school that suffered a lot of damage. Many private homes and ranches were still in need of work, especially those located south of the creek, which had become a raging river breaking through its levees during the storm.

      Dean and his family had worked long days those first couple of weeks, but now their father and oldest brother had gone home to take care of the ranch and family business while Dean and Nick had chosen to stick around for the duration.

      And maybe, for Dean, even longer.

      “Come on, time’s a wastin’.” Nick nudged him out of the way and opened the lid of the washer. “I’ll take care of loading your dryer. You get pretty. We both know you’re going to take longer.”

      Dean cuffed his brother on the back of the head before turning toward the tiny bathroom to wash up and change. It wasn’t as if he’d never been to the one bar in town. He’d gone a couple of times, but he tended to prefer books to most people he met.

      Catching sight of the faded scar that ran down the center of his chest in the mirror as he buttoned up his shirt, Dean blamed his preference on a childhood filled with mysterious health problems that had kept him on the sidelines most of the time. Everything had changed, though, when surgery his freshman year in high school had fixed a faulty heart valve. Soon he was as athletic as the rest of his family, but that didn’t mean he’d morphed from a quiet kid to a charmer like Nick overnight.

      Hell, most times he just kept his mouth shut and let the ladies do all the talking. He’d learned over the years that most of the female population found his silence a challenge they couldn’t resist. So he’d let them try. Even if they got him to talk, they rarely stuck around for long after that—a lesson he’d learned years ago.

      Pushing away the memories, he shut off the light and walked down the hallway to the front of the trailer.

      “See? You did take longer. We ready to go?” His brother waited in the living room, already sporting his familiar black Stetson. He grabbed Dean’s off a nearby hook and tossed it to him.

      Deciding to go without the hat, Dean laid it on the coffee table, then checked his watch, surprised to find it already after nine. He figured he’d only have to stay for a beer or two before his brother found someone else for company. “Let’s go.”

      They left their pickup trucks parked and took the short walk in the still summerlike night air from the group of trailers to the Ace in the Hole. It was a rough-around-the-edges bar, popular with everyone, from cowboys to millworkers and now the volunteers helping the town get back on its feet.

      The bar’s parking lot on this Thursday night was filled mostly with trucks, a few cars and a handful of motorcycles. There was even an old-fashioned hitching post out front because local cowboys had been known to ride into town on horseback, even after dark. Lighted beer signs shone in the windows and an oversize playing card, an ace of hearts, blinked in red neon from its perch over the front door.

      Once inside, Dean’s eyes adjusted to the dim lighting as he followed his brother to the already-crowded bar that ran the length of one wall. Booths hugged the outer walls and round tables surrounded a small dance floor in the middle of the room.

      There was a sorry excuse for a stage in the far back corner, but tonight’s musical entertainment came from an antique Wurlitzer jukebox that still played three choices for a quarter. Pool tables filled the space in the far back and a couple of dartboards hung on the wall next to the exit door, all perpetually busy.

      Dean and Nick grabbed two empty stools at the bar, but a lull in the music and the sound of a man’s voice had them, along with the rest of the crowd, turning to face a booth in a far corner.

      “Hey, everyone, could I have your attention for a moment?”

      Dean recognized Collin Traub as the man rose to his feet. The pretty brunette next to him was his wife of less than one week, the former Willa Christensen. Both Dean and Nick had attended their wedding last Saturday. In fact, the entire town of Rust Creek Falls had been there to watch them exchange their vows.

      “I have something I’d like to share with you,” Collin said. “Something my wife and I just decided on.”

      “Are we hearing the pitter-patter of little feet soon?” someone called out.

      Collin laughed along with the crowd, but waved off the suggestion. “Ah, I think it’s a bit early for that, seeing how Willa and I have put off our official honeymoon to work with all of you, and the many volunteers who have joined us, on rebuilding our town.”

      Several people clapped and Collin waited until the noise died down again.

      “We’ve pulled together since the flooding, and we’ve accomplished a lot in a short time, but there’s still a long way to go. I know this town is going to come back stronger than ever.” He looked down at his wife, who gave him a quick nod, then he addressed the crowd again. “Part of that strength is missing however with the tragic loss of Mayor McGee. His death during the flood has left a void in our town, so I’ve decided to join the election as a candidate to fill the mayoral seat.”

      A cheer rose from the crowd and soon Collin and his wife were surrounded by well-wishers.

      “I guess folks around here think that’s a pretty good idea,” Nick said as a group of men greeted him with friendly hellos. He made a few quick introductions to Dean, including two waitresses who stopped by, one of whom wrapped an arm around Nick’s shoulders for a quick hug before she continued on her way.

      “Traub seems pretty popular. Just like you.” Dean leaned closer to be heard over the jukebox. “Why am I here again?”

      Nick shrugged and reached for the bowl of unshelled peanuts in front of them. “If you’re talking about Faith, there’s nothing there, man. She’s old enough to be our…aunt. Besides, she’s married.”

      “Never stopped you before.”

      His brother shot him a dark look. “You know, I was serious. You need to find yourself some company of the female persuasion. You’re either working, cooped up in that trailer by yourself or hanging around with a bunch of kids.”

      Dean had to admit his brother had a point. When he wasn’t relaxing in the trailer he could be found at the town park. He’d been taking a walk one night when a fight broke out during a pickup football game. He’d stepped in before two kids, barely in their teens, had gotten more than a few jabs thrown at each other and defused the situation. From then on, he’d been playing referee, spending more time at the park with the kids who hung out there.

      Before he could reply to Nick’s suggestion, a sweet voice called down to them from the center of the bar.

      “Hey there, boys. Welcome to the Ace! I’ll be right with ya.”

      Dean’s gaze zoomed in on the petite blonde bartender. Now, there was someone he hadn’t met yet in this small town.

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