His Montana Sweetheart (Big Sky Centennial Book 2)

by Ruth Logan Herne

  * * *

  Too long?

  His words spiked her pulse and his gaze said he’d take things slow, but sitting there with him, sorting horseflesh for the future of the Double M, the familiar sounds and scents of the stockyard drew her in. She couldn’t imagine being anywhere else. And yet she would be somewhere else soon. Her position in Helena had folded and they’d given her a decent severance package, but she’d need a job and a place to live before too long.

  The auctioneer keyed his mike and began welcoming the crowd of buyers and sellers as Liv considered her choices. For the moment, helping Jack, working on the town history and hanging with horses was enough. More than enough. She’d face the job market Monday morning, searching out possibilities on the internet, but that left her Saturday and Sunday to enjoy ranch work, a nice respite from years of city living and an eight-by-eight windowless cubicle. And when Jack successfully outbid other potential buyers for the matched bay fillies and the gorgeous red stallion, she accompanied him around back to finish the deal, heady with the thought of gathering the horses and heading home.

  “Randy, hey.” Jack stuck out a hand to the rancher from northern Idaho and nodded to the pair. “They’re beauties. Tell your mother they’ll be in good hands.”

  “Tell her yourself, she’s right over there.” Randy Malcolm pointed beyond Liv. “She rode along to grab a rescue on the way up. He’s in sorry shape, but she heard about him on Facebook and decided he needed a new start.”

  “Jack. Look.” Liv pointed to the horse facing them from the back of the Malcolm trailer. “It’s—”

  “He looks like Dillinger.” Jack stared hard at the faded, neglected image of his former beloved buckskin, Liv’s favorite mount on the ranch.

  “He does. Can we—?” She stared up at him, imploring, trying to read the look on his face. He scrubbed a hand to the back of his neck and faced her direct. “You’re willing to come work with him? Cater to him? He’ll need lots of time and care, sun and rest, and we’re in August already.”

  “Yes.”

  “You didn’t sound so sure inside.”

  “Well, I am now.” She set her jaw and folded her arms. “Go see Mrs. Malcolm and ask if she’ll let us take him.”

  “We’ll go see her.” He put the emphasis on the plural pronoun. “I can’t jump into this alone, and if we mess that horse up Joy Malcolm will drive down from Idaho with a switch to tan my hide. I like my hide just the way it is, thank you. So think hard before we head over there.”

  “I don’t have to think hard, I’ve made my decision.”

  “Well, then.” An easy smile spread across Jack’s face, a look that said he’d just won a battle. He extended a hand her way, a gesture that meant she was on board for all that helping the horse entailed. “Welcome back to the Double M, little lady.”

  She accepted his hand, shook once, hard and firm, but then didn’t squawk when he wrapped his left hand around her right as they crossed the dusty lot to see Joy Malcolm about a beat-up horse who needed tender loving care. Her hand felt right and good, melded with his, and she’d worry about the whys and wherefores later. Because right now, surrounded by horses, cowboys, trucks, trailers and hot August dust, she felt at peace.

  “If we do this,” Jack said, nodding toward the horse tucked in the left fore side of the Malcolms’ travel rig, “we’ll probably have to eat on the run. We’ll want to get this guy home and tended without stopping.”

  “Front-seat burgers work for me.” She didn’t hesitate as they approached Joy’s rig, she simply let go of Jack’s hand and moved forward, ready to deal. “Mrs. Malcolm, your rescue looks a lot like a horse I loved back in the day. Jack and I—” she indicated Jack with a quick look his way “—would like to take him in, if at all possible. I’m sure you—”

  “Darlin’, if you’re tellin’ me that you and Jack can take this sorry animal and give him a good home on the Double M, save your breath. I’m sold. I just couldn’t sit back and ignore him, and I knew Randy was coming to auction. But I’ve got two grandchildren and six foals on the way, plus cattle to ride herd on. I’m busy enough and maybe this was just one of those things that was meant to be.”

  “You’re sure?” Pleasure rose up within Liv. “You don’t mind us stepping in?”

  “Not a bit, and we can load him right now with the fillies you bought. I was tempted to keep them, such a nice pair, but Randy’s father reminded me that babies take time and with two daughters due, I needed to pick my battles this year.”

  “Thank you!” Liv reached out and hugged the older woman impulsively, wanting to say so much more, but that would probably seem ridiculous to a staunch ranch wife like Joy Malcolm.

  The older woman surprised her by putting a hand on each side of Liv’s face, then smiling down at her. “Years ago I found myself by working with a horse like this.” She shrugged one shoulder toward the faded gelding. “It gave me time to think, time to pray and time to court Randy’s father.” She smiled and released Liv’s cheeks with a little pat to her shoulders. “I am often amazed by how God manages to plunk us right in the middle of where we’re supposed to be when we least expect it, so yes. You take this horse and love on him all you can before the weather turns sharp. Nothing like healing together, young lady.”

  Her words stirred something else inside Livvie, a truth she’d been unwilling to admit.

  She needed healing. She needed peace. She needed to look in the mirror and not see a loser who’d had two men run out on her. The fact that her ex-husband had already remarried his extramarital girlfriend bit deep into her bruised ego. Tossing a baby into the mix meant Billy hadn’t wasted any time and was perfectly willing to start a family with someone.

  Just not her.

  The horse nickered softly as Joy guided him out of the trailer. His mild voice said, “What now?” but as Liv ran a gentle hand down his neck, she whispered into his ear, “Now we go home, my friend. Now we go home.”

  She took the lead and walked the horse across the lot. Animal movement had stirred the dust. Particulated Montana topsoil hazed the midday air.

  Liv didn’t care. She walked the gelding into the trailer, placing him between the mares. If the young stallion they loaded from the other side thought to kick up a fuss, she wanted two steady, well-fed horses to let him know they weren’t impressed. This malnourished fellow shouldn’t be put to the test today. Not until he had a few weeks of TLC and food.

  “We’re all set?” Jack asked as she settled the horse and closed the ramp.

  “Good to go. Thanks for loading the girls, Randy.”

  “My pleasure. And right back at ya’ for taking him off Mom’s hands. While we didn’t need extra work, I couldn’t see letting him be put down. I’m grateful.”

  “No.” Jack faced him, and stuck out a hand. “We are. Travel with care.”

  “Will do. You, too.” They shook hands as Liv climbed into the front seat of the big truck. She waved to the dashboard clock as she withdrew her phone. “There’s a great burger joint about fifteen minutes out. I’m going to call and order food so we don’t have to keep these guys waiting. I’m grabbing a mushroom Swiss burger and fries. How about you?”

  “Sounds perfect. Ask them to put ketchup, pickles and sweet relish on mine.”

  “Done.” She found the number online, called in the order and settled into her seat after scanning the trailer a quick look. “What a day.”

  “Great. Wonderful. There are now four horses ready to call the Double M home. Including your new project.”

  She heard the emphasis on the pronoun, but wasn’t about to disagree. Her heart had seized upon first seeing the horse and hadn’t let go yet. Maybe it was learning of Dillinger’s demise. Maybe it was searching for times lost but never forgotten. Or maybe she empathized with the horse, wanting them both healed and loved. That thought touc
hed a nerve, but she scuttled it and kept her voice bright with anticipation. “I can’t wait to get him home, get him cleaned up. Feed him. Brush him. Talk to him.”

  “You’ve got a knack, for sure. Always did have. The thing is...” His voice trailed off and he looked uncertain.

  “The thing is?”

  “Are you wasting all those years of education being back here? There’s not much in the way of work for someone with all those degrees, and you’re so smart, Livvie. Always were.” Trouble tinged his tone, as if second-guessing way more than trailering a group of horses home to a Montana ranch. “Will you feel like you’re wasting all that time and money to help with a crowd of horses the next few months?”

  His words made her pause, but then she shrugged. “I might have thought so the last few years because I was caught up in my job. I poured myself into research work and did well with it, but if I look back truthfully...” She drew a breath and turned to see him more directly. “If you asked me then if I was happy, I’d have said yes. I thought I was flying high, doing well. But looking back, I see it different and that’s because I’m facing the truth about my life then. Clearly that’s easier at a distance.”

  Jack’s grimace said he agreed.

  “It will be a little crazy living at home, especially if Grandma and Grandpa move in, but you know what, Jack?” She smiled when he spiked his right brow to show he was listening. “I think I can be a help to them and my parents. I’m beginning to see there’s more to life than hefty paychecks and bylines in university presses and museum trade magazines. I forgot how nice this all is.” She waved a hand to include the rise of mountains, the drought-touched fields, common in August, and the horse trailer tugging along behind them. “So, no, I don’t think it’s a waste at all. Maybe, finally, I’m growing up.”

  * * *

  Her words niggled that sore spot inside Jack. He’d had some growing up to do himself, and he’d fought it, but sitting alongside Liv, trailering horses and grabbing front-seat burgers, he felt as if he’d melded the old with the new into something wonderful.

  Go slow. You messed with her head once. Treat her like you’ll treat that horse behind you. Nice and gentle, with tender loving care. Horses and people who’ve been burned spook easy.

  Jack pulled into the restaurant’s parking lot and aligned the trailer beneath the shade of a tall, mature tree. He hopped out of the driver’s seat, then turned. “Be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”

  Her smile assured him she wouldn’t, a smile he remembered well and couldn’t believe how good it felt to see again. “I’ll be right here, cowboy.”

  He tipped his brim and watched her smile deepen before heading inside. Their order was ready, just as Liv planned. To some, that might seem to be a minor thing, letting horses stand, trailered, while the owners ate.

  Not to Livvie, and that said “rancher” all the way. She’d been gone a long time, yet she still carried that indefinable “ranch first” mentality, a rare trait that said she belonged in Big Sky country.

  Seeing her sitting in the cab of the truck, busily adding to her electronic notes when he came back through the restaurant door, his heart stretched open. She scrambled to stow the notepad as he climbed into the driver’s seat. He handed off the bag and grinned at how deftly she distributed the food, the drinks, not a motion wasted, treating the front seat like a kitchen, cups here, napkins there, an old towel she’d found behind the seat draped over her lap to avoid drips from a well-topped and messy burger. He reached over and took her hand gently before they dived into the food.

  She looked up. Saw his intent. Surprise faded to understanding and she squeezed his fingers lightly. “Go ahead.”

  He wanted to thank God for her. For this moment, this chance to set things right after too much time gone by. Would that embarrass her?

  Maybe. He kept it short and sweet instead, but his heart rounded out the quick prayer. “God, thank You for this food. For the chance to be together, and Lord, we ask You to help us be the friends this gelding truly needs. To anticipate his needs until he feels safe and beloved once more. Amen.”

  She didn’t let go of his hand straightaway, and that tiny measure of trust made him feel better. She held his gaze, her blue eyes almost misty, then smiled. “Thank you, Jack. That was lovely.”

  “You’re lovely,” he told her, letting his grin say the rest. “Let’s see how lovely you stay while eating a big, sloppy ol’ burger.”

  She popped down the hinge of his glove compartment to use as a miniature table, but the dust dissuaded her. She puffed it away, waved her hand and sent him a look that said he should clean the truck more often.

  “I’ll clean it this week. Promise. You know how bad the dust gets in July and August. And there’s no keeping it out of the truck when I wear it into the truck multiple times a day.”

  “I hear you, cowboy. And a little dust ain’t never been no big thing in these here parts,” she drawled, teasing. “The fact that I’m sitting here about to eat one of the best burgers in all of Montana has me too happy to care.” She followed that by taking her first bite, laughing when condiments slid one way while her burger seemed determined to go the other.

  Too happy to care.

  Her words brightened everything about the day. Words he reflected inside, a new joy taking hold, simply by spending a day with Livvie Franklin by his side. Talking horse, chatting baseball. Stealing quick, sideways glances.

  Oh, yeah. Her words held true for both of them. Tucked inside the truck, angled so the horse trailer caught the shade from a broad, old maple tree while he and Liv roasted in the hot August sun?

  Yup. Like Liv, he was too happy to care. And that felt better than he’d felt in a long time.

  Chapter Five

  Liv’s conscience scolded nonstop the next day. If her brain was an iTune, she’d press Pause and move on, but the common-sense mental directives made her question her quick decisions at the livestock sale. By midday she had the downstairs polished, and headed to town to mosey around the library archives for a change of scenery. Chauncey Hardman took it upon herself to open the library for a few hours every Sunday afternoon, and there were times when getting lost in research could prove beneficial. She hoped that method worked today. Then she’d face a late-day dinner at the ranch with Jack, Coach and the horses. Hanging with Jack yesterday, she remembered how much she loved all three.

  She turned down Shaw Boulevard, angled into the library lot and parked alongside a metallic blue hybrid, a sweet ride that said “money” despite its diminutive size. For just a moment Liv considered moving her worn, red Neon to the other side of the narrow lot, but that might insult the trusty old car, so she gave the slightly dented trunk a pat and a promise of a car wash as she headed inside.

  The one-story library had little seating, but that didn’t matter today. Liv turned to the right, down a short hall, and straight into the history section of the converted ranch-style house, a small space that had probably been a bedroom at one time. The square room now housed all historical nonfiction on one wall and fiction on the other. Chauncey had her own way of doing things and since the Hardmans had bequeathed their house to the library thirty-five years before, no one was about to argue with the stout middle-aged librarian.

  “Oh. Hey. Sorry.”

  A slim woman with long blond hair swung around as Liv drew up short.

  Liv made a face and tapped the doorway. “Didn’t see you with the turn and there’s never anyone back here when I come in to work. Hi.”

  The other woman smiled and swept the small room a look of understanding. “It’s kind of fun and odd how small this is, isn’t it?” She extended her hand and said, “I’m Robin Frazier. I’m staying in town for a little while and I love to check out old stuff.”

  “Then you’ve come to the right room,” Liv noted. As she grasped Robin’s offered ha
nd, her gaze fell on the leather-bound document spread out on the table behind Robin. “The Shaw history. I was going through that myself the other day. Find anything interesting?”

  “Not much.”

  The woman looked almost disappointed, as if she’d been hoping to find some deep dark secret hidden in the old parchment papers. Livvie was pretty sure that if such a thing existed, Jackson Shaw would have prettied it up—or excised it. Jackson had a way of gilding things with his own special spin, not a quality Liv admired, especially from a historical perspective. How could people learn from the mistakes of a spit-shined past that didn’t reflect reality? “Were you looking for something specific?”

  “No.” Robin answered too quickly, but before Liv could wonder at her speedy response, she went on, “I’m working on my degree and doing a thesis on genealogy. Documenting family histories is part of the process.”

  “I love history, fact and fiction,” Liv admitted. “Austen, Brontë, Alcott. I look at the early women novelists and there’s a part of me that wishes I could see romance and life the way they did.”

  Robin laughed out loud. “Washing clothes in wooden tubs and wringing them out by hand while stringing green beans into ‘leather britches’?”

  “Those images do take the sheen off the romance,” Liv admitted. She was about to say something else, when Chauncey stepped into the room, a hand braced on one broad hip while her other held a pointer finger to her lips.

  “A library, ladies, not a coffee shop. Whisper, please.”

  Liv peeked around the corner, then faced Chauncey. “But there’s no one else here, Mrs. Hardman.”

  “That doesn’t mean someone couldn’t walk in that door at any moment, young lady. Rules are rules.” She waggled two thick eyebrows at the younger women, and while she didn’t look exactly displeased, Liv was pretty sure her demeanor meant “conversation: over.” She turned to face Robin again. “Do you want to talk about the Jasper Gulch history some more? The diner’s open around the corner.”