Montana Welcome

by Melinda Curtis

  “What you did with my dress... That’s okay.” Lily wouldn’t be wearing it again. She held out her hand. “Can I see your phone again?”

  “Why?” He pulled it from his back pocket and handed it over.

  Lily opened the phone and checked his call record. What? She glanced up at Conner. “It’s empty. You didn’t call Big E?” Not while she was changing or when he went out to the RV? “And he didn’t call you?”

  Conner stiffened. “I’m a grown man doing a job. What kind of a man calls his boss every two seconds? Or needs him to call every three? A man like that... He’d be unemployed, that’s what.”

  That spark she’d felt for him in the vestibule returned. He was passionately defending his character. A man like that would be passionate about other things. His home. His spare time. His bride.

  “Sorry.” Lily handed his phone back, impressed by his cowboy code. “Did you always want to be a cowboy?”

  Did you always have this big honorable streak?

  Did all cowboys? Did Big E? Did Thomas? Was Thomas even a cowboy? Was he alive?

  So many questions. She rubbed the back of her neck. It was stiff from having to hold her head up all this time.

  “I was raised on a ranch,” Conner said, as if that explained everything.

  “Following in your father’s footsteps, no doubt.” Lily nodded. Conner was probably a tenth-generation cowboy, as was Big E, she supposed.

  “I never knew my father. He took off the day my mother told him she was pregnant.” A shadow passed over Conner’s angular face. “The ranch is my mother’s. Or it was. I took over the paper on it when I turned eighteen because she’d been in a car accident.”

  Goose bumps rose on her skin at the word accident. “But she’s okay? She called you yesterday.” According to his phone’s call log.

  “Like you, she’d say she’s fine.” But the shadow remained over his features.

  The rest of his words sank in, the ones about his father. “Was your dad’s name on your birth certificate?” She backpedaled when confronted with his stone-faced stare. “I apologize. It’s none of my business. I’m not normally so rude.” She didn’t usually tease men about their underwear preferences, either.

  Rudy wouldn’t approve of anything she was doing today.

  Conner rubbed his jaw as if rubbing away the hurt and stigma of being fatherless. “I suppose it’s understandable, given the day you’ve had.”

  Yes, it’d been quite a day. Hearing that Danny didn’t want to marry her. Hearing that Rudy had forced him into it. Meeting a grandfather she’d never known existed. Walking out on her wedding. And heading to meet a new family in Montana.

  Mayhem should have been my middle name.

  Tears filled her eyes.

  Conner sat back in his seat, a look of horror on his face.

  “I’m sorry.” She wiped away a tear. “I’m not usually weepy, either.”

  The approaching waitress paused midstep, staring at Lily’s face. She spun away.

  Conner cleared his throat, probably wishing he could bolt from Lily’s drama the way their server had. “What are you? Usually, I mean.”

  “I’m an adventure tour guide,” she told him without preamble and with some pride.

  “A-a what?”

  “I have my own adventure tour company. I take people on unique outdoor excursions—high-altitude wilderness hikes, paddleboarding yoga, white-water rafting, kayaking with killer whales.” She warmed to the topic, which was easier to discuss than her abandoned wedding or her newly found lineage. “I arrange tours several times a month through online bookings. And I reserve one weekend a month for Danny and me to do something out of the ordinary.” Something that might be toned down a bit for her clientele and her physical capabilities.

  Conner cleared his throat again. “Aren’t you a little old to be a camp counselor?”

  It was Lily’s turn to stiffen. “You sound like my...like Rudy.” Or that small inner voice she tried to squelch in her head, the one that had been increasingly cautioning her to keep both feet firmly on the ground when Danny proposed something new. “Don’t cast stones. Didn’t you say you worked on a dude ranch? Aren’t you on a road trip to pick up guests?”

  “Ouch.” There was a hint of a twinkle in his eye. “In my defense, I also contribute to Blackwell cattle ranching and help the ranch manager with the books sometimes.”

  A shiny black truck pulled up to the gas pump near their window. It was the same color, make and model as Danny’s. A dark-haired man—a dead ringer for Danny—hopped out.

  Lily’s body flushed with adrenaline. She turned in her seat, ready to run for the back door. But then common sense—something she’d been missing earlier—prevailed.

  Danny isn’t coming after me. Why would he? He doesn’t want to marry me.

  Conner stared at her, twinkle-less. He saw too much with those deep brown eyes.

  Lily faced front, waving the waitress over, eager to put more miles between them and San Diego.

  What had they been talking about? Ah, yes. Job choices. “In my defense, my business is thriving and I can’t type worth a darn, so most office jobs are out.” She smiled up at their waitress. “I’d like a chocolate milkshake and French fries. It’s been that kind of day.”

  “Same,” Conner said, completely surprising her. “But put a double cheeseburger on the side of both orders.” He waved a hand in Lily’s direction. “We camp counselors need to stick together and you need more than protein bars and nuts.”

  “Apparently, I need a whole new life.” Lily nodded, staring down at the truck logo emblazoned across her chest. The sweats were too big around the waist and severely short for her tall frame. Her clothes clashed with her sophisticated hairstyle and sparkly white sneakers. “Can we stop at a mall or something before we pick up those other guests of yours? My appearance says my life is at an all-time low.” It was, but that didn’t mean she had to let the world know it.

  “You’ve discovered you’ve got some pride left?”

  “I have indeed.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  NORMALLY, WHEN CONNER was on a road trip, he slept out under the stars, roughing it.

  Since he’d left Falcon Creek, Conner had been sleeping on the convertible bed that was the motor home’s dining table. It wasn’t luxurious. He didn’t fit. He slept diagonally and his feet hung out over the edge.

  On the trip out west, he’d been lulled to sleep by Big E’s snoring, which was like listening to waves regularly crashing on a beach. Loud waves that covered the noise semitrucks made when they pulled in and out of the rest stops where he and Big E parked each night. Tonight the sounds coming out of the motor home’s bedroom weren’t regular or soothing.

  This Blackwell wasn’t snoring. She was crying.

  Using the meager light shining through the windows, Conner got up and opened a couple of kitchen cupboards. A few short steps later and he stood at the bedroom threshold. “Lily?” He rapped on the door. “Are you awake?”

  “Yes.” The motor home shifted as she got up. The door swung open.

  Her hair tumbled down in stiff loops. Because of her finger limitations, he’d helped her remove the hairpins and pearl strands earlier, but she was in need of a shower and a shampoo. The truck stop T-shirt hung loosely from her shoulders and the sweats bagged at her hips. She was a wreck.

  A beautiful disaster.

  Like me, without the beautiful part.

  Not to mention Lily had more swagger than he did. She was in the risk business, whereas he was now risk averse. As a business owner, she was undoubtedly smart and tough. As a runaway bride, she was in need of a stiff drink.

  He could use one himself.

  Conner handed Lily a glass tumbler with a shot of whiskey in it. “To help you sleep.”

  Without a word, she took the glass in
both hands and knocked the alcohol back. And then she bent over, coughing. “I’m wide-awake now. And done crying.”

  Fatigue pounded at Conner’s temples as he poured a drink for himself. His strategy to get some peace and quiet was backfiring. A shift in tactics was necessary. “You can see the stars from the front seat.” And maybe if she was quiet, he could crawl back in his short bed and fall asleep.

  “I love looking at the stars.” Lily asked him to pour her another shot of whiskey and made her way past him to the passenger seat, again carrying her drink with both hands as if she was afraid of dropping it. She set her glass carefully on the center console and peered out.

  He sat next to her just as his cell phone rang. It had been charging next to her drink.

  Lily lunged for the phone, fumbling to get it open. “Hello? Big E?” There was a plea in her voice. “Oh. No. You’ve reached Conner’s phone. I was just—”

  Conner set his whiskey on the center console and extended his hand. “It’s for me.” He hadn’t called home this evening.

  “My name is Lily. I’m...” Lily turned wide eyes Conner’s way. “I’m road-tripping with Conner.” She gasped. “No. Nothing like that.”

  Conner took possession of his phone, a feat easier than he’d expected since Lily’s grip was loose. “Mom? What’s wrong? Couldn’t you sleep?”

  “Couldn’t I sleep? Let me turn that around. Did I interrupt something?” His mother sounded as if she had and was happy about it, too. “You should call before you enter the uninterruptible, get-busy time zone.”

  Whoa, Nelly. “Things were a little hectic today, Mom. I meant to call and then I realized it was too late.”

  “Too hectic? I want to meet the woman who made things too hectic.” His mother chuckled.

  “How are things at home?” Conner braced himself for bad news. It was always bad news. The Rocking H was like an old jalopy, kept running with a rubber band and a tube of Krazy Glue.

  “Well, that stallion of yours made his way into the barn pasture again.” She harrumphed. “You should have sold him to one of those fancy stables back east. He’s a jumper, all right.”

  Conner’s back tensed.

  “And there are signs a fox is trying to get into my henhouse.” Anger shook her words. His mother made small change selling fresh eggs. And those hens? They were dear to her.

  “Same old, same old.” Conner embraced the concept of bad luck at the Rocking H. He embraced it so hard, his back spasmed.

  “It wouldn’t be that way if you came back to the Rocking H full-time.” She was tapping something. A pencil most likely. She enjoyed her crossword puzzle books.

  “We’ve talked about this.” It wasn’t happening.

  “We’ll talk about it until you come to your senses. You belong here.” Such finality. Even the tapping stopped.

  “With chickens and stubborn stallions?” Conner’s gaze drifted to Lily. She belonged to the Blackwell Ranch. To pedigreed cattle and luxury accommodations.

  “Yes to all of it.” His mother huffed. “Are you still planning to be home in Falcon Creek by Wednesday?”

  “Yes, ma’am. If not sooner.”

  “Good. Then I’ll let you get back to your fast-paced lifestyle. Make good choices, son.” She hung up.

  Conner closed his phone and drained his drink.

  “This is eye-opening. You call your mom every night?” Lily sipped her whiskey, holding the tumbler with both hands. “You accompany an old man cross-country. You pick up Blackwell relatives for road trips. You’re a nice guy, Conner.”

  He wasn’t feeling nice. His sleep deprivation was letting attraction to Lily slip in. Her long legs, the graceful arch of her neck and the mess of curls covering her shoulders were mesmerizing. Her pluck and sharp wit were intriguing. He wondered what she’d feel like in his arms, how she’d react to his kiss.

  Conner rubbed a hand over his face. He needed that bonus money more than he needed to satisfy his curiosity about Lily. “Make good choices.” He scoffed.

  “Always good advice.” Lily sipped her drink and stared out the windshield. “Everything okay at home?”

  The darkness. The intimacy. The whiskey.

  Tidbits of his life pressed at the back of his throat, pushing for a share. He tightened his lips together. Cowboys like him didn’t spill the details of their lives. They weathered storms and didn’t break.

  Minutes passed.

  Lily propped her bare feet on the dashboard and sighed. Her toenails were painted a soft pink. Today she’d worn tennis shoes instead of heels. She drank whiskey and took people on adventures, not trail rides or shopping trips like he did. He wanted to know more about her. Montana was a long stretch away. There was plenty of time to learn more about her. But in the grand scheme of things, he should need to know less.

  Alcohol burned the back of his throat and spread heat through his chest.

  “My mom thinks we’re hooking up,” he admitted, completely without meaning to. “I’m an only child, and since my marriage failed, she’s been pushing for grandchildren.”

  “And you don’t like her to get ideas. I can apologize to her now or when you call her tomorrow. Although I’ve been thinking...” Lily sounded distant, detached. “You should drop me off in Vegas tomorrow. I’ll find a way to contact my family and get back home.”

  A low growl filled his throat. He claimed her drink and swallowed the rest. “You’re going back to him?” Conner didn’t know why that should bother him. They were strangers.

  Other than the fact that I practically undressed her.

  He should be thinking of his double bonus, which he wouldn’t receive if Lily didn’t set foot in Montana in a few days.

  “My family will be—”

  “Big E is—”

  They both stopped, having talked over each other.

  “I’m feeling a little overwhelmed,” Lily said in that quiet voice that he hated, the one that implied in tone that she was insignificant. “The world is a scary place when you have a weakness.”

  “If you’re talking about those fingers of yours, you don’t need a husband to pick up that slack.”

  She scoffed. “Tell that to Rudy.” Spoken like she was ready to turn around and head back to a deal with the devil.

  Anger and frustration released a sharp memory...

  Mom having fallen in the living room. Him running to her aid, only to be pushed away.

  “I love you, son,” she’d said staunchly. “But coddling won’t do me any good. I need to claw my way back to independence.”

  He’d watched while she pulled herself up from the floor. She’d been rejecting his help and forcing him to watch her struggle ever since. Which partially explained his willingness to work for the Blackwells. And partially explained the anger and frustration he felt when a woman like Lily let her self-image be dictated by someone else. His mother would never let that happen.

  Conner decided then and there to do everything in his power to support Lily to keep her from feeling insignificant.

  Starting with keeping her on the road to Montana.

  He winced. He had the best of intentions and the worst of motives.

  “Lily, your dad isn’t totally to blame, is he? You knew you didn’t want to marry that guy when he proposed,” Conner accused, emboldened by the shadows, the old memory and the whiskey. “And you’ve been back in that bedroom reliving and rewriting every moment of the past couple months as if you could have avoided this disaster.”

  “How did you...?” Lily wrapped her arms around her waist.

  “You’re not the only person who’s ever made mistakes and harbored regrets.” Something had come over him. Something that wanted to lash out, that refused to settle behind proper manners and respect for things that weren’t any of his business. “But that’s completely separate from whatever limitations
you have in your fingers. Just get on with it.”

  “I am.” There. She sounded like she’d rediscovered her inner strength.

  “Good. Because it’d be a shame to take you back to your unappreciative groom.” Harsh words indeed, ones that made her gasp. What was happening to him? Why did she elicit such an intense response from him?

  Because I know what it’s like to turn right when your family wants you to turn left.

  He’d learned his limitations where running the Rocking H and training horses were concerned.

  Regardless, he needed to tread carefully so that he didn’t back Lily into a corner.

  Kudos to her. She didn’t crumple when facing confrontation. “You think I’m wishy-washy.” Not a question. “Maybe I need to get out of my head and talk this through before I can move forward.” Her arms unfurled and her words turned defensive. “I’m sorry if you were the only one around to hear me.”

  Hear her cry, she meant.

  She was hurting. Conner drew a calming breath. “Your family wants you to get married. You may be feeling overwhelmed, but the worst thing you could do is go back right now and marry someone you don’t love.”

  I’m becoming a good liar.

  “There’s no valid reason for me to go to Montana,” she countered evasively. “Big E doesn’t want my Blackwell family to know who I am. The worst thing I could do is go to a place I’m not wanted.” Lily wiggled her bare toes. “I’d like to know about my father, and Big E never met him. I won’t find any answers in Montana.”

  “You’ll find more than if you hunker down in California.” Conner ran his finger around the rim of her whiskey glass. “There’s a lot of history around Falcon Creek and the Blackwell Ranch. You might not get to know your father there, but you’ll learn more about your family roots.”

  “By talking to people who don’t know I’m a relation?”

  He scowled. “By walking the land of your ancestors. By realizing they planted the trees that give you shade. By acknowledging the sacrifices they made to buy every acre of land. By knowing they wanted to create something real and lasting.” His scowl deepened, not because Lily was arguing with him but because he hadn’t thought about his heritage in those terms before. His chest burned with more than alcohol. Regret had a bitter sting. “At the Rocking H, we still have my great-great granddad’s buckboard wagon. I heard tell he brought his bride home with it. And the family’s branding irons still hang in our barn. Some are over a hundred years old. And our barn itself... It’s seen a lot of memorable horses, including some used in the Pony Express. Some of my horses have made their mark in the world, too.”