by Megan Ryder
Ugh. She shook her head to clear her mind. Ty stopped abruptly and she ran into him. Yup, his body was all sorts of firm and solid, and could possibly cause some bruises if she hit it hard enough. He gazed down at her quizzically.
“You okay?” The deep voice rumbled from his chest and she stared up at him, confused. “You shook your head and mumbled. Did you forget something?”
Heat burned her cheeks. Dammit, she really needed to get control of her habit of talking to herself. “No, I was just thinking out loud.”
To her surprise and gratitude, he didn’t laugh or even crack so much as a smile. He just gave a solemn nod. “Fine. The truck is right here.”
He opened the door and loaded her luggage in the second seat, then held out his hand for her guitar case. She held it for a long moment. There was no escaping it. She couldn’t keep it up front. He tugged it out of her hand and laid it gently on the seat, top up, almost reverently, as if he understood what the guitar meant. Better than most people handled her guitar, even her roadies, who assumed it was just a prop, which was why she often handled it herself.
“Thanks.” She eyed the truck’s steep incline. Damn her short legs and her momma’s genes that didn’t grace her with her father’s lanky frame but a short, curvy body. At least she wasn’t wearing a skirt. She grabbed the handle of the truck and the seat and went to haul herself in, one foot on the running board. A hand cupped her butt, the most action she’d felt in months, maybe even a couple of years, and boosted her into the truck with a sudden, unexpected lift. She catapulted in, almost overshooting the seat. Before she could react, her bag was placed on her lap and the door was closed.
She took it back. Ty wasn’t hot and sexy. He was rude and antisocial. But his hands on her butt felt damned good.
*
She tried to remain silent and study the scenery while he steered the huge dually out of the terminal lot and construction zone and onto the highway. That lasted only about ten minutes until the silence became overwhelming, pressing on her, and she had to speak.
“Thank you for coming to pick me up. I suppose I could have rented a car, but my license expired a couple of years ago and I haven’t had time to renew it or drive really.”
He turned and settled a disbelieving stare on her. “You can’t drive a car?”
She shifted in her seat and avoided his gaze. “Not exactly. I just haven’t had the opportunity for the past several years, between school, tours, and everything. There just didn’t seem the need. I forgot to renew my license. I think I was on the road or something.”
He snorted and shook his head. “Must be nice to be chauffeured everywhere.”
Sure it was, if you wanted to feel like you had to ask permission for every stop you made or ask someone to buy your feminine products. Not that she expected him to understand that, and she was not exactly in the mood to enlighten him. She was well aware of how privileged her life was, from boarding schools to fancy vacations to having the money to do whatever it was she wanted. And she was a first-world bitch for whining about it, for even complaining that money couldn’t buy what she really wanted, because the reality was she had a gorgeous home, the best in clothes, fan adoration, and never wanted for anything, except that pesky little thing called respect and self-fulfillment.
Oh yeah, she could only imagine saying that to this rugged, work-seven-days-a-week-in-all-weather cowboy next to her. He’d laugh her out of the truck and keep on rolling. If she were lucky, he’d wait for her to get back in the truck. If she weren’t lucky, well, she could hitchhike to this fabled fantasy guest ranch her only friend was opening.
God, she sounded pathetic even to her own mind, so she just gave a half smile that seemed to placate the guy in the cab and stared out the window at the city vista around her. The scenery never changed from her time on the road. Buildings and cars in Missoula gave way eventually to fields and mountains, not much different than when she traveled in the bus for tours. Only she rarely took the time to look out the window on tour, being focused on the business side of things—learning new songs, keeping track of new choreography, and signing autographs and whatever else her manager needed her to do. Frankly, it was boring as shit and she didn’t know what to do with herself in this truck with the silence making her think, no assistants asking her for things.
This time, however, the scenery was far different than anything she had ever seen or had taken the time to see. Flat earth gave way to rolling hills, green trees and scrub as far as the eye could see, and towering beautiful mountains capped with snow in the distance the likes of which she had only glimpsed when traveling briefly through Colorado a few years ago. She leaned against the door, her previous dissatisfaction with her life completely supplanted by the nature in front of her.
“It’s absolutely gorgeous! You’re so lucky to live here and see this every day. Is your ranch this beautiful?”
He glanced out the window and a smile crossed his face. “Redemption Ranch is in a valley between several mountain ranges. We have quite a few creeks running through the land; some might call them rivers. They give the cattle fresh water, but even more, they allow us to run fishing tours, which should bring in more guests to the ranch. We have plenty of land if you want to ride, but I suggest you take someone as a guide. It’s easy to get lost out there.”
“It’s been years since I’ve ridden, since boarding school. I haven’t had much time on tour, and when I’m home, we’re preparing for the next tour or recording. I’m sure I’ll be sore, but I look forward to it. Do you have any guests staying at the ranch yet?”
He spared her a glance then focused on the highway in front of him. “No. We’re waiting until after Tara and West come back from their honeymoon. Besides, the weather is still a little unsettled this time of year. We could still get snow, and not a lot of people want to vacation on a ranch when there’s snow, especially when there isn’t any skiing.”
“The wedding! How are the plans coming for that? What does Tara need done?” She started thinking of all the things she needed to do to get ready. Dress fittings—since she wasn’t local, she’d had to send her measurements to Tara for the initial fittings, but she’d need to get going on that quickly. Did they have the bridal shower already? She couldn’t have expected them to wait for her. She couldn’t change her tour, unfortunately, even if she had wanted. Not that it mattered, or maybe it would have been better. The reviews hadn’t exactly been outstanding. And what about the reception? The favors? Did Tara need help with any of that?
“Do you always talk this much?”
Ty’s voice broke into her thoughts, his irritation rubbing like sandpaper on her already shredded nerves. She cocked her head and stared at him. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Rambling on about wedding stuff. How am I supposed to know about any of that? Isn’t that your area?”
Her face burned. She twisted in her seat to stare out the window, ignoring his laugh. When would she learn to think her thoughts and not speak them? She was too used to being alone, dammit. He must think she was a crazy person. Or worse. What was worse than a crazy person?
“Someone who doesn’t care,” he replied, the tone leaving no doubt that he knew exactly what that felt like but he wasn’t welcoming any further discourse on the topic.
She wanted to sink into the leather seat until she was absorbed into the frame of the dually and disappeared. Why wouldn’t her mouth stop talking?
“We all do it. I talk to my dog, my horse, even the cattle when I’m riding the range. It’s not unusual. The quiet gets to me sometimes.”
She cast him a sideways glance to make sure he wasn’t laughing at her, but he seemed serious and focused on the road. “I don’t like silence. I feel so alone in it.”
“Being alone can be good. It allows you time to think and reflect.”
“What if you don’t like what you find?”
He darted a glance at her. “Then you turn on some music.” He flipped on the radio to a
country western station. The sounds of twangy guitars and her brother’s voice singing about a small town and shaking the dust from his shoes and moving on filled the cab.
She smiled, imagining Colt strutting his stuff across the stage, girls screaming and throwing panties and other stuff at him. He never got compared to a trained poodle or dancing chimp. He wasn’t a front man for more talented songwriters like her accusers said about her. She sighed and laid her head against the seat and let the sound of music wash over her. Ty was right. Music soothed her soul. It always had.
One song segued to another, and she let the familiar sounds wash over her, along with the exhaustion of her long travel day, and her eyes closed. She woke to the truck driving over a bumpy road, jostling her awake.
“Sorry for the rough ride. But it’s only for a short time. I thought you might like to see this.”
She blinked at Ty and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. “Sorry I fell asleep. Are we there yet?”
“Not quite. You snore, by the way.” He grinned at the last statement. “Not the cute little snuffles that ladies pretend they make. But not as loud as Chase or West.”
She frowned. “That’s not very nice to say. And I don’t snore.”
He shrugged. “Maybe your boyfriend would never tell you, but you do.”
“Whatever.” She folded her arms in front of her and noted that they had left the highway and were on a side road that seemed deserted.
Visions of the murder network and all those late-night investigative shows flashed through her mind. What did she really know about this guy? She assumed he was Tara’s brother-in-law-to-be, but maybe he had hacked her phone? Maybe he’d set her up and kidnapped her from the airport with the intention of murdering her and leaving her body in this forest where no one would ever find her. Her parents would go on all the networks and plead for her return, maybe do some charity concert to raise money for the reward. Her brother would come to Montana and lead the search, browbeating the cops and making a general nuisance of himself. Her records, once deemed pedantic and trite, would sell out, and she might be considered a true artist and her disappearance a Nashville tragedy.
And no one would know the truth. Except this one guy. Did they have cameras in the Missoula International Airport? Of course, they must. It’s an international airport. It was required by the government, right? They’d find him—but too late for her.
“Oh my God, stop the thoughts, lady. I’m just showing you this scenic bypass. I could hear you thinking over here. Although thank you for sparing me the verbal dialogue this time.” The words burst out of him and he glared at her.
“You’re not going to kill me and leave me for the bears?”
“Not right now. And your bigger problem would be the wolves and maybe the smaller predators.”
They turned a corner and a gorgeous lake came into view. She gasped, and all thoughts of murder flew out of her head. He guided the truck into a pullover spot and parked. “I’m sorry I was late picking you up. I thought this might make up for it. This is Georgetown Lake. Gorgeous, isn’t it? Just beyond the lake is the Anaconda Range. There are some ski areas and campgrounds along the route and some old mining areas. We don’t really have time to stop at those areas, but we’ll follow the lake for a while, then head down through the canyon. It’s a little more scenic than the highway.”
She sighed. “This was worth the stop. Thank you. You’re forgiven…for being late. For the snoring comment, not so much.”
He laughed and put the truck in gear and pulled out.
Chapter Three
Ty pulled up to the main house, and Tara raced down the porch steps and flung open the truck door and just about yanked Piper from the truck into her arms. The combined squealing nearly ruptured his eardrums. Thank God most of the noise vented outside through the open truck door. West slowly followed, giving Ty a nod. Ty swung down from the cab and began taking out the luggage.
“Hang on, Ty! Don’t do anything yet.” Tara’s voice stopped him in his tracks, and he shot her a suspicious glance. “Leave them in the truck for now and come up to the house for dinner. We’ll get Piper settled after dinner. What took you so long? We expected you hours ago.”
Piper shot him a narrowed glance over Tara’s shoulder, and Ty braced for Tara’s anger.
“We took a scenic route. Georgetown Lake or something? It was gorgeous. I’m afraid I made Ty stop and spend a little more time than he wanted there.”
Tara turned and gave him a brilliant smile. “That’s so sweet! I was hoping to get you up there and some other spots, but we have so much to do in the next two weeks. And here I thought Ty might have been late picking you up. They just finished the branding and other stuff, so it’s been crazy around here.”
West ambled in with Ty. “You spent two hours at Georgetown Lake?”
Ty blinked. “It’s a beautiful lake.”
West shook his head. “If you were Chase and this was before Hailey, I’d call bullshit. But since you’re not, I’d say you were late.”
“I was covered in cow shit and mud. Had to shower and clean Dundee. They’re doing construction at the airport so that held me up. But we did stop at the lake.”
West draped his arm around Ty. “That’s my brother. I knew I could rely on you. Thanks for picking her up. I owe you.”
Ty grunted. “Just tell me this. Where is she staying?”
West’s arm dropped. “No clue. That’s up to Tara. Want a beer?”
Ty sighed. “I’m clearly going to need it.”
*
Dinner was a study in contradictions. Tara’s other brother-in-law, Chase, joined them with his new wife, Hailey, and her six-year-old son, A.J., who was thrilled at how much she loved the sign he made for her, spelling errors and all. But there was a line in the conversation: the women on one side talking about wedding plans, and West and his brothers completely absorbed in their conversation on the other side. Despite their separate conversations, Piper noted the casual touches, the affectionate glances, and the comfortable ease with which her friend and her chosen man interacted. When dinner finished, West draped an arm along the back of her chair, his fingers tangling in her blonde strands, and Tara leaned into his shoulder, looking more at ease with herself than Piper had ever seen her. Even Chase, whose stories about his wild times on the circuit were legendary, according to Tara, was attentive to his wife and her son, who seemed to adore Chase.
But it was Ty who drew her attention. Ty who was quiet, offering suggestions occasionally, but basically taking in the conversation and making note of everything else. Yet his eyes found her watching him almost as often as her attention strayed to him, and she found herself wanting to know about this quiet cowboy who wasn’t quite as taciturn as she had first thought. Finally, she couldn’t hold back her yawns, and Ty stood.
“I think maybe Piper has had a long day and could use some rest. Can you tell me where to bring her luggage?”
Tara jumped up, all action and motion. “Of course. I know that you’ve been totally stressed out after being on the road for the past several months and being around the crowds can be stressful. So, I thought you might like the quiet of one of our guest cabins. They’re newly renovated and fully stocked with snacks and even light meal stuff if you want. That’ll let you practice your music and work on your songs for your next album. Maybe you’ll find some inspiration here!”
Piper forced a smile onto her face. The last thing she needed or wanted right now was time to focus on her music, especially now that she needed to find her focus and forge her path even more than ever. Although maybe the cabin would be the perfect place for her to find her sound again. “Sounds great. How far is it?”
Tara beamed. “Ty can drive you. It’s basically right next door to him.”
Of course it was.
*
Ty drove Piper to the cabin next to his, Tara and West following in one of the ATVs. She wasn’t his direct neighbor, but he’d hear her if she had any issues, w
hich surely was Tara’s intention. And that had better be all of her intentions because if she was playing matchmaker of any sort, he’d have to put his foot down. Although, with his luck, it’d be in cow shit and he’d be screwed.
As they pulled up, Dundee came flying out of the night and launched himself at Piper, barking his fool head off, muddy paws streaking her designer jeans. So much for the bath he’d given the dog earlier that day, though in the spring, he was lucky the dog hadn’t rolled in something fouler than mud.
Instead of squealing and backing away as most women did when confronted by an excited, dirty dog, Piper bent down and began loving up on his dog, letting Dundee kiss her all over her face and burying her fingers in his fur. She murmured nonsense words and platitudes while the red and white dog wiggled in ecstasy, his blue eyes closed as he nuzzled his new best friend. And Piper seemed to be equal to the task, clinging just as hard to the dog as he was pressing up against her, as if Dundee were a lifeline.
Ty grabbed the two suitcases and swung them down from the back seat of the cab before setting them on the cabin’s porch. He then reached in for the guitar case, but she stood, dislodging the dog. “I’ll take care of that one. Thanks.”
“I’m beginning to think you don’t trust me with your instrument,” he drawled. “I may not be a high-priced roadie, but I know how to handle a guitar.”
She shook her head. “It’s not you. I don’t let anyone handle my guitar.”
He watched her for a long moment then nodded. He understood that. No one touched his guitar. Ever. His father and first music teacher had impressed that upon him. When you played, you were responsible for your gear. But even more, your guitar was an extension of you, of your voice, of your talent. You were nothing without it. Take care of it and it would take care of you. That lesson applied to more than music—to your family, the people you cared about. He’d learned that lesson the hard way, once upon a time. When you cared about yourself, focused on yourself, sometimes the people closest to you paid the ultimate price. He would never make that mistake again.