Big Sky Romance Collection

by Denise Hunter

  “Dylan!” Three women approached, one of them clutching a bulky blanket. “You have to come sit with us. Taryn’s going to tell us about her disastrous trip to Yellowstone.”

  “Trust me, you don’t want to miss it,” another one of the women said.

  Dylan cast Wade a glance. “You mind?”

  Well, what was he supposed to say with Abigail sitting right here? He could hardly beg Dylan to stay.

  “Nope.”

  Dylan hopped to his feet. “I heard you had an unfortunate encounter with a skunk.”

  The group walked off, skirting families and coolers, their chatter and laughter fading into the night.

  “He’s sure popular with the ladies,” Abigail said, watching the group go.

  “Disappointed?”

  She shot him a look, and he read the surprise in her eyes. “I’m not interested in Dylan.”

  Wade looked away, denied that her words gave him any pleasure. He hoped she didn’t think he was fishing for information. Last thing he wanted was Abigail thinking he was interested. She’d gone quiet, and he glanced her way.

  She seemed mesmerized by the sparkler, apparently having shrugged off his comment. A pale yellow glow washed her face, and the reflection of light flickered in her green eyes. She narrowed those eyes, studying the sparkler as it burned down the stick, her brows bunching together.

  She turned the sparkler for a better view. “I wonder how these are made.”

  “Careful,” Wade said, just as sparks spit onto her bare arm.

  Abigail squealed, dropped the sparkler. Wade grabbed the cool end of the stick and tossed it onto the grass.

  “Hope I didn’t ruin your quilt.” She brushed at the spot.

  Wade tamped out the sparkler with his boot. The woman fell, tripped, and dropped things more often than a child. “Gonna start calling you Grace.”

  She lifted her chin. “You saying I’m clumsy?”

  Wade shrugged. “Saying you’ve been here two minutes, and you’ve already dropped a sparkler and tripped over your own feet— unless that was on purpose.”

  Abigail frowned.

  Wade cringed. Now why’d he have to go and say that?

  “Why would I—” Her lips pursed. “I did not trip on purpose. I was mortified, if you must know.”

  “Makes no difference to me.” Wade wiped his boot on the grass and got resituated.

  “If I were interested in Dylan, I’d go out with him—he’s asked more than once, you know.”

  A twinge of jealousy flared. He didn’t know Dylan had pursued that hard. “Like I said, no difference to me.”

  Abigail frowned and looked away.

  He’d done it now. Managed to take things a couple levels past awkward. He really had a way with ladies. Stretching his legs in front of him, he looked skyward. The display could start anytime now. Anytime.

  Was he really so incapable of making conversation with a woman? So out of practice? He shooed a mosquito from his face. Who was he kidding? It wasn’t just any woman. It was Abigail, daggonit. She did something to him that didn’t need doing. If she’d just keep her distance and stick to her job, everything would be just dandy. But no, every time he turned around, there she was. Falling off horses, inviting herself to picnics and fireworks.

  Okay, so she hadn’t invited herself to the picnic, and the fireworks was supposed to be a group outing. Supposed to being the key phrase. He looked in the direction Dylan had disappeared and scowled. Thanks a lot, friend.

  His gaze passed over Abigail as he turned back. She sat with her legs crossed, twisting that ring on her finger. A breeze wafted by, and she shivered. He reached behind and pulled the quilt up, dropping it onto her shoulder, careful not to touch.

  She looked at him as if suddenly remembering he was there. “Thanks.” Her eyes were shadowed in moonlight, and Wade couldn’t seem to tear his gaze from them. For the moment, she wasn’t Abigail the nanny. She was just Abigail. Abigail with her easy nature, her quick wit, her nurturing ways. She bewitched him, was what she did. With those wide, questioning eyes. With those full lips that just begged to be tasted.

  Her lips parted ever so slightly. His gaze darted back to her eyes.

  Caught.

  Wade turned away. Son of a gun. Why was he looking at her lips? Could he be more obvious? What had gotten into him?

  Abigail. That’s what. The fact that his heart was galloping in his chest was just foolish. Crazy.

  A boom sounded, and a second later a red starburst exploded overhead. The crowd oohed and aahed. Thank You, Jesus. Now he could focus on something other than the woman cuddled up in his blanket.

  Faint strains of “America the Beautiful” carried from the fairground speakers, and a blue starburst bloomed overhead, followed quickly by a loud boom.

  Abigail was glad for the thunderous booms if only because they made the ones in her chest seem trivial. She stared into the sky, but all she saw was Wade’s face, Wade’s eyes when he’d looked at her. Another man might’ve kissed her—it was that kind of moment— and much as it pained her to admit it, she’d wanted him to. Might’ve even leaned a fraction of an inch toward him. She cringed at the thought.

  But he’d turned away, leaving her feeling forsaken and confused. And embarrassed. Again. He had a way of bringing out the stupid in her.

  What was her problem? Why couldn’t she focus on her job? The subject of her investigation was right under her nose, living under the same roof, completely accessible. She’d never had it so easy. And yet.

  When she was with him, she forgot her purpose. And it wouldn’t be easier now that she’d upped the ante. She glanced covertly at him. He studied the night sky, a blue glow shining on his way-too-handsome face.

  Of course she was having trouble focusing on her job. What woman wouldn’t? Wade was a gorgeous cowboy. He was Marlboro man minus the tobacco. Could she help it if he made her go weak in the knees? If he made her forget herself and want things she couldn’t have? She was only human.

  You’re the Truthseeker, Abigail. For heaven’s sake, act like it. She had to think of Viewpoint, of what would happen if she didn’t find the truth and write the story. The magazine her mother had started and nurtured for all these years would go the way of the dinosaurs. So many people would lose their jobs. People who needed their income and their health benefits. Starting with Mom.

  It would be financially devastating for her mother, who couldn’t retire for another ten years at least. Her father had been a good provider, but schoolteachers didn’t exactly pull in the big bucks, and they’d had to take out a second mortgage when his health problems began.

  A loud boom pulled her from her thoughts. Overhead, the sky exploded in shades of green, then red, then white. Oohs and aahs followed.

  “Moose Creek does the Fourth proud,” Abigail said, hoping to break the tension. The fireworks were more than she’d expected.

  “Used to be bigger when the town was prospering, I heard.”

  “This your first fireworks without Maddy?” A breeze ruffled Abigail’s hair, and she pulled the quilt tighter.

  “Guess she’s growing up, wanting to be with her friends and all that.”

  “It was bound to happen.” Abigail smiled at him, then forced her gaze away before she got sucked in again. She watched the colors explode overhead. “I was a daddy’s girl too. He never lost that spot in my heart, even after he died, so I think you’re safe.”

  “You aren’t close to your mom after all you went through with losing him?”

  “We’re close. My dad and I just had a special bond.” This was as good a time as any. “Did it bring you and Maddy closer when her mother died?”

  She waited through two loud booms for a reply.

  “In a way. Definitely made me more protective.”

  Abigail took a breath and made the leap. “How did your wife pass away—if you don’t mind my asking.” She held her breath, wondered if she’d pushed too far.

  “It was an accide
nt.” There was only sadness and regret in his voice.

  His expression confirmed her initial conclusion. He was watching the display, but she wondered if he saw any of it.

  “I’m sorry. It must’ve been very hard.” She watched him for a moment more, hoping his expression would betray his thoughts, but nothing surfaced. She watched white sparks sizzle across the sky. She couldn’t waste this opportunity. How often were they alone?

  “I saw her photo in Maddy’s room. She looked happy.” She felt his appraisal and looked at him.

  He looked away. “She was, early on, when we were close. But after Maddy came along . . . things changed.”

  “Too wrapped up in motherhood?” Abigail clutched the quilt, afraid if she so much as moved, it would spoil things.

  “She was never wrapped up in Maddy. She was too . . .”

  She was sure he’d been about to say something important. “Too . . . ?”

  She waited for his reply. Two fireworks flared in the sky, three booms sounded.

  “It’s in the past. Gotta keep moving forward. Nothing you can do about what’s already done.”

  Abigail kept the disappointment from her face. “True.” No reason his reply had to be a dead end. “Is that why you moved to Montana?”

  “Needed a fresh start.”

  She nodded. “Sometimes it’s easier to leave bad memories behind.”

  “Exactly.”

  The song on the loudspeakers wound down, and strains of “God Bless America” began.

  She sensed Wade shutting down, so she attempted to lighten the mood. “Why Moose Creek, Montana? I mean, it’s charming, but it’s barely a dot on the map.”

  “That was part of its appeal.” He paused for a thunderous boom. “Dylan’s grandfather had a ranch here, and Dylan brought me here when we were boys. I loved it. The wide-open spaces, the sky stretching on forever. Not to mention the horses and cattle and mountains. When I needed a place to start over, it seemed ideal.”

  “Didn’t you feel like an outsider at first? It’s a close-knit community.”

  “A little. Dylan’s grandfather took me under his wing and introduced me around. He was highly respected around these parts.”

  “He passed away?”

  “Circle D was his ranch. Dylan inherited it.”

  “How did you come to own Stillwater?”

  “It was on the market when I was looking to make the move. I bought it before we came out here, stock and all. Best thing I ever did.”

  Most men only dreamed of the life Wade had had in Texas. He was a rodeo champion, a celebrity, and he made a bundle of money. Why was he so glad he’d exchanged all that for an endless job that barely paid its way?

  “Why’s that?”

  He shot her a look. “ ’Bout as nosy as Maddy.”

  “Sorry,” she said, though she wasn’t really.

  “Been good for Maddy. A safe, God-fearing community. Wouldn’t trade what we have here for everything I had back in Texas.”

  Abigail was more aware of all he’d given up than he knew. She had to respect that he didn’t regret leaving it. She wished she could return to the topic of Lizzie, but she didn’t want to press her luck.

  “Still having headaches?” he asked.

  “Not today.” Abigail propped her elbows on her folded knees.

  “If you need a break from Maddy, let me know. I’ll work something out.”

  His concern tweaked her guilt. “Thanks, but I’ll be fine. My mom is the one who insisted I take some time off.” She shifted to a new subject quickly to avoid questions about her job. “My dad’s health woes started with hypertension, so she’s worried mine’ll progress like his did.”

  “Understandable.”

  “I don’t like being idle. She asked me to come out and check on Aunt Lucy. Mom was afraid she might be losing her faculties.”

  “Lucy Bowers? She might be a little eccentric—”

  Abigail shot him a look.

  “Okay, a lot eccentric, but she’s right as rain.”

  “I hope so.”

  The song built to a crescendo and the fireworks came in quick succession now, booms reverberating through the night, flashes and sparks lighting and sizzling. Families around them began gathering their things, but she sat still, content to watch to the end. Wade was motionless too, apparently in no hurry to beat the crowd.

  When the display came to a noisy end, the crowd cheered and whistled. Abigail smiled at the enthusiasm. The music and fireworks over, quiet fell over the hill.

  Abigail pulled the blanket from her shoulder and stood.

  Wade retrieved the sparklers and gathered the blanket. “Need a ride?”

  “You mind?”

  He shrugged. “Going there myself.” He set the blanket around her shoulders. “Save me from carrying it.”

  Abigail wrapped up in the quilt, glad for its warmth, and they started down the hill. It seemed darker than ever with the flare of fireworks gone. Thick clouds of smoke hung overhead, veiling the moon and stars, and carrying the smell of fireworks. She breathed deeply.

  “You might want to pull the blanket up off the—”

  Abigail’s foot caught on the quilt and she stumbled. She caught herself easily and snatched the blanket higher. Her face grew warm. “You just had to jinx me.”

  “Yeah, it was all my fault.” Wade’s lips twitched.

  She made it to the bottom without further incident, and when they reached the boardwalk, they joined the crowd. The streetlamps lit their way now. Decorative flags fluttered in the wind overhead, and the sounds of idle chatter and footsteps on the boarded walk filled the night.

  Wade greeted friends with a wave or a tip of his hat. As they neared the fringe of town, the crowd dwindled. Families called good night to one another and went toward separate vehicles, and the sounds of the crowd were replaced by the chirping crickets and the whispering wind.

  They left the walk and cut through a park on the edge of town. Soon it was just the two of them. Abigail was conscious of their isolation, of their lone footsteps swishing through the tall grass. She took two steps for every one of his.

  “Not much farther,” Wade said. “What I get for arriving after the parade started.” He seemed to realize she was trailing and slowed his pace.

  “Won’t Maddy beat us home?”

  “Doubt it. The fairground was packed, and Shay had the kids with her and all the stuff that goes with it.”

  Moments later the truck came into view at the edge of the park. Any cars that had been parked nearby were gone. A lone streetlamp shone down on the old red Ford.

  Wade opened the passenger door, made sure she and the blanket were tucked in, then shut the door. She appreciated the gentlemanly gesture, couldn’t remember the last time someone had opened her car door.

  She buckled her belt. The cab smelled like Wade. Leather and earth and some indefinable masculine scent. She pulled in a lungful of the fragrance. Nice.

  The driver’s door opened and Wade got in. One jangle of the keys later and the truck turned over.

  Abigail felt a yawn coming on and covered her mouth. Many nights in the city she stayed up well past midnight working, yet it was barely past eleven and she was fighting sleep. She’d become accustomed to the different routines here. Life on a ranch had a way of aligning with nature’s rhythms and cadences.

  She settled into the seat, leaning back. As Wade pulled onto the street, she smothered another yawn.

  “Past your bedtime?” Wade asked.

  “I can’t believe I’m so tired. I’m a night owl.”

  “Used to think I was too. Now I get my best work done in the morning.”

  “Think it has something to do with the slower pace? I mean, there’s not much nightlife in Moose Creek.”

  “God probably intended people to retire at dark and rise at light, don’t you think?”

  “Probably. I guess the body has a way of resetting its circadian rhythms. I’ll have to ask my sister.”
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  “The doctor?”

  “Mm-hmm.” The hum of the engine and slow rocking of the truck weren’t helping. It had been a long, full day, and she’d been on her feet most of it.

  Wade turned onto the main road that would take them to the ranch. Abigail closed her eyes and drew the blanket tighter even as she felt heat blowing through the vents. It felt good to have someone else in the driver’s seat. To let someone else take charge, and to know she was in good hands.

  It was a strange thought to have about someone whom she was investigating. Deep down, at the core, she didn’t believe he’d had anything to do with his wife’s death. How could she feel so safe if she thought him guilty? She took a deep breath and let it out. No need to think about this now.

  She pulled her arms from the quilt, sank deeper into the seat, leaned her head against the door. She just wanted to rest her eyes for a few minutes, then she’d feel recharged. Maybe she could do some research once she got back. Maddy would probably sleep in tomorrow since she’d stayed out late.

  Abigail rewound her thoughts to the fireworks, to her conversation with Wade. He was nice to talk to. Nice to be with. Nice to look at.

  She didn’t even chide herself for the thought. She was too tired. Besides, he was nice to look at. He was a good dad, a good friend, a gentleman. She couldn’t believe he hadn’t been snatched up by some woman from the Big Sky State.

  Her thoughts swam through her head, growing fuzzier and more ambiguous until they were gone altogether . . .

  “Abigail.”

  She barely heard the warm, low drawl.

  “Abigail.”

  Her eyes popped open.

  Wade was staring. “Wake up. We’re home.”

  She looked around, orienting herself. “I wasn’t asleep.”

  “Truck’s been off two minutes.”

  She had dozed off then. What had Wade been doing those two minutes? Watching her sleep? She nearly asked, but the look on his face answered her silent question. The same look he’d had on the hill. His eyes, shadowed under the brim of his hat, were heavy-lidded, pensive.

  She drew in a lungful of the musky scent that was all Wade. She was wide awake now. Her gaze fell to his slightly crooked nose, to his chiseled jawline, covered now with a day’s growth of stubble.