Montana Dreams Read online

  “Let me get Whip inside for you.” He spotted the folded-up wheelchair in the truck bed. He seemed grim, as if he realized her father could no longer walk on his own steam. “Why don’t I bring over some lumber and make a ramp. If I have your permission.”

  “That would be a big help.” She ignored the quirk in the corners of his mouth. She was too tired to get upset at him doing more for her. In truth, she really needed help.

  “Good. I’ll do it as soon as we get the horses settled.”

  “Uh, horses? As in two of them? That wasn’t our agreement.”

  “Sure, but you don’t want Sundae to get lonely, right? Wouldn’t you like to spend time with Lena again?”

  “Lena?” Her pulse stalled as he eased close.

  “Yes, your old horse.” His hand cradled the side of her face, his palm sun-warmed and slightly callused. So tender. His touch telegraphed comfort that words could not convey. The power of it burrowed into her heart, hooking deep.

  “I can’t believe you still have her.” The horse he’d bought for her.

  “Couldn’t bring myself to part with her.” He dragged in a breath and steeled his chest. “Don’t go reading anything into it. I tried, but I never found the right home for her.”

  “Right.” She didn’t look as if she believed that. Her gaze softened, maybe seeing too much of him.

  That was close enough for now. He pulled away, full of emotions he’d be a fool to analyze. Best to get Whip in the house and settled. Concentrate on getting things done so he wouldn’t have to run into these feelings again.

  “Okay, Whip.” The window was partly down, giving him a view of the top of the man’s head. He was partially sitting against the door, propped with a pillow and covered with a blanket. Not a good sign if the man was cold on a ninety-six degree day. “Careful now, I’m opening the door.”

  “Did I ask you to help?” Whip’s tone could cut metal.

  “No, but someone has to.” He opened the door carefully, catching the old man, who was apparently too weak to hold himself up. Another not-so-good sign. Millie must be taking this hard. He thought of his own dad and wondered how he’d feel if the man were dying. What if time were running out for the chance for his father to change?

  “Do you want this here or on the porch?” Millie asked, and he didn’t need to turn and see what she meant. She’d taken charge of the wheelchair.

  “On the porch.” He gathered Whip in his arms, ignoring the wince of sadness at the man’s fragility and carried him up the steps.

  Millie bounded ahead, carrying the chair, and set it on the shady porch. He couldn’t help noticing her quick and graceful movements, and concern tucked into adorable crinkles in her forehead.

  “Don’t think you’re worming your way back into this family,” Whip growled, settling into the seat. “I’m not gonna change my mind.”

  “Not expecting you to.” He reached for the grips, but Millie beat him to it, taking charge of the chair.

  “My back thanks you, Hunter.” She gestured toward the stairs.

  “No problem.” The pull of her gaze roped him in and made him care. Things had gone too far. He was no longer sure he could control it. “You need anything, holler. I’ll be nearby getting the horses settled.”

  “Look at Simon.” The kid had climbed onto the trailer’s tailgate, chatting away to the horses. Appreciation chased some of the weariness from her face. “You’ve done a good thing for him.”

  “I liked to ride at that age.” He clomped down the stairs. “Couldn’t get me off my pony. Luke and I rode from sunup to sunset in the summers.”

  “Strange. I can’t picture you actually enjoying anything.”

  “Ha, ha.” His smile crinkled his eyes. Talk about attractive. A little zing gripped her heart. It would be crazy to fall for him again. Nuts. Bonkers. Looney-tunes.

  “Get me in the house,” Whip spat out with a frown. “I’m tired of waiting while you two flirt and lust.”

  “Dad, that’s a horrible thing to say. Honestly. You’re not even close.” Face flaming, she whirled the chair toward the door and didn’t look back. “And in front of Hunter, Dad? You have a terrible mind.”

  “You’re awfully defensive.” Once he found a nerve, Whip liked to push. “Don’t go getting yourself in trouble again, girl.”

  It was tempting to walk away and leave him there helpless in his chair. To make him realize that she didn’t have to help him. She could have stayed in Portland. In fact, she was sorely wishing she’d done just that. It took all her self-discipline to keep going. With her teeth clamped shut, she aimed the wheelchair down the hall. He’s dying, remember, she told herself. Be kind. Don’t rise to his bait.

  “One brat is bad enough.” His bitter frown grew, apparently unhappy he wasn’t getting a big enough reaction. “Not that I mind the kid so much. At least he can carry on the family name.”

  As if that was the important part of having a grandchild. She’d left the door open behind them and the sounds from the yard blew in with the wind. Simon’s dear voice full of excitement as he chattered away about the horses. Love flooded her heart, and it gave her strength to keep going. She angled the chair into the bedroom and brought it alongside the bed.

  She got him into bed, took off his slippers and handed him the remote. His TV roared to life, drowning out all sounds from outside. She could no longer hear Simon’s voice.

  “Get some rest, Dad.” She hesitated at the doorway, wishing, just wishing. That he wasn’t in pain, that he didn’t take pleasure from hurting others, that he could be different.

  Everyone had good in them. Her father’s had faded over time, becoming less and less, until it was impossible to see. It was the choices a person made that determined the value of their heart. Whip had chosen himself over others so many times now there seemed to be no good left.

  I do feel sorry for him, Lord. She left the room with a prayer in her heart. I don’t know what can be done for him, but please do what You can.

  The music of Simon’s laughter drew her to the living room window. Sunshine blazed, green trees rustled in the breeze and her son trotted across the newly mown grass, lead rope in hand. A black-and-white pinto followed him eagerly. A beautiful animal, mustang-strong, with lithe legs made for running and a thick white mane. So good to see him happy, conversing away with the man at his side.

  It was hard to tell what dominated her heart as she watched Hunter swing open the gate, holding it while boy and mustang headed into the pasture. Love for her son, that was surely what this must be and not affection for the man who spotted her at the window and gestured for her to join them. All the denial in the world couldn’t change the hint of gentleness in his violet eyes, an openness in him she’d never seen before.

  Like a lasso to her heart, she was caught. Trapped by an invisible tie too strong to fight.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Didn’t look like she intended to come out of the house. Hunter tried to deny the tick of disappointment, but no good. It washed over him, the sorry sap that he was. He swung the gate shut, holding it in place.

  “Hey, Hunter!” Simon’s face scrunched up as he worked at unclipping the lead from Sundae’s halter. “I think he really likes me. How cool, right?”

  “Right.” He croaked out the word. His thoughts slid right back to Millie. Probably a smart move to stay in the house, safe from whatever this was building between them. Good choice. He should applaud her for it, for saving them both.

  Happy, boyish laughter cut into his thoughts. The mustang liked the boy, nibbling his hair, lipping his shirt to give it a tug, seeming to take delight in making the kid giggle. A curl of fondness settled behind his ribs. Now that was just plain crazy caring for Millie’s son.

  “Hey, here’s Lena.” Brandi sauntered over, lead rope in one hand, rubbing
the mare’s silky nose with the other. “I’m sure going to miss riding you, girl. Totally the best part about hanging out on my brothers’ ranch.”

  “What? I thought I was the best part.” With a wink, Hunter swung open the gate.

  “Of course that’s what I meant. What was I thinking?” Brandi unclipped the lead and patted Lena on her sleek, white neck. “Go on, girl. Check out your new digs.”

  The mare ambled through the open gate, long tail swishing. Head up, ears pricked, she surveyed the large field full of tall grass and dotted with wildflowers and nickered her approval. Sweet girl. He patted her neck as she walked by and closed her in. His knees buckled when he caught sight of a slim, dark-haired woman crossing the lawn toward them.

  Millie. So she’d decided to come out. His throat snapped shut, his palms went damp, and he stood there like a fool.

  “Couldn’t resist coming to see my girl. My long-ago girl,” Millie corrected. Her gaze found his and filled with a message only he could understand. There were no words, just feelings. He couldn’t ignore them if he tried.

  “She missed you.” It wasn’t what he meant, but at the glint of recognition in her blue depths, he knew she understood. He’d taken care of Lena all this time for her. Not a day had gone by when he hadn’t.

  “I missed her. We had a lot of fun together, didn’t we, girl?” Lena nosed in between them, nodding her head, nickering excitedly. “All our trail rides. Snuggles in the field. Rides to the diner for ice cream. Good times.”

  “Good times together.” Picnics in the forest, horse rides to town, moments reading in the haymow, walks in the rain. It was the past he saw, but also a possible future. His heart squeezed with the force of the wish. Could it come true? Why did he want it so much, he who did not believe in love?

  “Hey, lunch is out of the oven.” Brandi’s call from the porch sailed to them. “Want me to keep it warm?”

  “We won’t be long.” Millie’s elegant fingers trailed up and down the mare’s nose. “Will you stay this time?”

  “Might as well.” Didn’t want to seem over eager. Didn’t want her to think he was softening. It was the only protection he had. “Gotta eat sometime, right?”

  “Right. Can’t have you feeling faint in the pasture when there’s more work to do.”

  “Honey, I don’t ever feel faint.”

  “Too macho. Sorry.” She rolled her eyes. “My mistake.”

  “I should think so. I’m tough as nails and don’t you forget it.” He wished it were the truth. He wanted it to be because then he’d be tough enough to stop the wash of affection rising up and to keep his hand from covering hers. Smaller, much smaller, compared to his own, but touching her felt right. The connection charged through him with the power of a thousand suns lighting up the dark places in his soul.

  How had she gotten past his defenses? He didn’t know. The walls were down for the first time in his life.

  “I think the hose is still out so we can fill the water trough.” Unaware of his feelings, she squinted into the sun swept field. “Or, Simon, did you and Brandi put it away in the shed? The shed with crawling things in it?”

  “More crawly things?” He leaned in so close he could see the light blue threads in her irises. “I can check it out.”

  “No, I’m pretending they’re mice and once the cats start prowling around, they’ll take off for a distant part of the field.”

  “Whatever gets you through the day.” He didn’t know how it happened, but his lips grazed her forehead. Quick, brief, silken wisps of her hair tickled his nose and caught on his jaw as he pulled away. One look at the surprise on her face made him take off in search of the hose. “Crawly things don’t bother me. How about you, Simon?”

  “No, sir!”

  “Want to come help me?”

  “Yeah!”

  He kept going toward the house, feeling the tangible sensation of Millie’s gaze. How was he going to hold back his feelings now?

  * * *

  “Looks like they are getting along, right?” Brandi plunged her hands into battered oven mitts, motioning out the kitchen window.

  “Right.” Millie fumbled with the plates. They clacked together and she almost dropped them on the counter. Totally clumsy, proof of how much Hunter was affecting her. His faint rumble of baritone and Simon’s muffled answer sailed in through the open window over the sink. There they were with Simon leading the way, hands clasped around the green garden hose. Hunter followed, carrying the heavy coil, unwinding it as they headed toward the big metal tub in the sun field.

  Looking at him, she could almost believe nothing was out of the ordinary. As if he hadn’t kissed her. She almost didn’t believe it herself. It was a total shock.

  “They’re two peas in a pod, aren’t they?” Brandi set the casserole on the table. “So alike, you can barely tell them apart.”

  “What?” Her knees gave out. The plates hit the counter with a deafening clatter.

  “Shadow and Smokey.” Brandi gestured toward the back window. “Look at them. They must be feeling more comfortable here.”

  “Yes.” The cats. Jolting panic subsided. What a relief. Sure enough, two fuzzy faces peered in from the other window. Curious green eyes watched every movement inside the kitchen. “I know they’re wild, but they look like they want to be friendly.”

  “Maybe it’s just a matter of trust. Maybe they were pets at one time. They could have been abandoned or abused and wound up alone in the wild.” Brandi pulled off the mitts and hung them next to the oven. “They seem to like it here. Hi, guys.”

  Realizing they’d been spotted, alarm widened feline eyes, the cats streaked away, diving for cover.

  “Maybe I can entice them with a little milk.” Brandi yanked open the fridge. “I’m going to win them over yet.”

  “Go for it.” Millie grabbed a bowl from the cupboard and handed it over. But where was her brain? On Hunter’s kiss. What had it meant? Was it a friendly kiss or was it more? Absentmindedly, she set the plates around the table, hardly noticing Brandi pouring milk and carrying the bowl outside.

  Hunter could be sweet. Today he’d been open and genuine with his emotion instead of closing up and pushing her away. The touch, the kiss, the feeling of being close to him made her see him anew. Tough as iron, yes, but had he finally learned how to open his heart?

  She peeked out the window, drawn to the sight of father and son. Sunshine kissed them, the man with his Stetson at a jaunty angle and the boy with a wide grin radiating happiness. Simon slid the hose over a fence rail, Hunter moved in to check it and twist the nozzle. Water sparkled in an arc into the tub. The horses pushed in to investigate. They lipped the nozzle, they nudged the hose and nibbled Simon’s hair.

  Hunter’s hand lighted on the boy’s shoulder, a natural touch. He bent down to speak, Simon nodded and they both smiled identical smiles.

  Now that the decision was made, she needed to find the right words. Maybe the Lord would help her with that.

  “The poor things ran like the wind when they saw me.” Brandi waltzed in, platinum ponytail flying behind her as she grabbed the milk pitcher from the counter and kept coming. “Your son will tame them in no time, that’s my guess. He has a way with animals I think.”

  “I do, too.” Millie ripped her gaze from the window, hearing a car pull up in the driveway. “Sounds like Dad’s nurse is here. I’ll get her settled. You may have to start eating without me.”

  “Are you sure?” Brandi set the pitcher on the table. “I could help, so you could get done quicker. You have to be hungry, too.”

  “I’ll be fine. You have to refuel. You’ve been running after Simon all morning.”

  “He did keep me on my toes.”

  “Tell me about it.” She spied Rosa through the mesh and held open the screen door for her. �
�So glad you could come on short notice.”

  “Hey, that’s what I’m here for. I’m sorry to hear the news is all.” Rosa lowered her voice, her lovely face gentle with sympathy. “I have been praying for him.”

  “Thank you.” If anyone needed prayers, it was her father. She felt a prickle on the back of her neck. Hunter was close and coming closer. She knew it before she glanced over her shoulder and spotted him through the window with Simon at his side. “Come in and get settled. Have you eaten?”

  “No, I didn’t get a chance, but that smells wonderful.”

  “Doesn’t it? But I can’t take credit, not even close.” Aware of Hunter and every step bringing him nearer, she bolted toward the hallway. “Brandi made it.”

  “It’s true. I have a talent with tuna and noodles,” Brandi chimed in. “Hey, Hunter. Hi, Simon.”

  “Hi!” The boy trudged across the floor, feet pounding. “We had to get another hose from the shed so it would be long enough, and we saw what was living in there. Boy, was it great.”

  “I’m afraid to ask.” Brandi shivered. “More bats? Rats? Snakes?”

  “Raccoons!”

  “As far as I could tell, it was just one family of them.” The low boom of Hunter’s voice drew her attention, freezing her in place. He swept off his hat and raked a hand through his dark hair. Humor looked good on him. “Shouldn’t be hard to encourage them to move on.”

  “How are you gonna do that?” Simon asked, plunging his hands into the stream of the kitchen faucet.

  “We’ll lure them out with food and board up the hole they’re using for a door.” His attention focused on her standing in the hallway. His penetrating blue-violet eyes seemed to shrink the room. He’d been good with their son. It mattered so much to her. Affection welled up, brimming her soul in a sudden surge.

  “Millie?” Dad croaked from his bed, awake from his nap. “Get your lard butt in here.”

  Reality intruded, as it always did. She followed Rosa into the bedroom. She had to fight her growing feelings for Hunter with all her might. Falling in love with him could only end in grief.