Montana Moonshine (Montana Cowboys Book 1)

by Vi Summers

  Jake’s eyes briefly snagged with mine. “That’s a rather cautious response, Bran. Little blondie got you all steamed under that plaid shirt of yours?”

  I ignored his snigger and ran a hand over my chin again. “You done?”

  His chuckle broke with a click of his tongue. A flick of the whip eased the colt into a canter, and Jake turned on the spot as he steered the horse in a wide circle.

  “Dunno, boss, you gonna keep broodin’?” he called.

  “I’m not brooding, but I’m not going to deny that I’m a little thrown with this one. I mean, she’s so damn petite. I don’t want to give her a free ride because that’s not what this program is about, but I can’t have her sloggin’ her ass off either.”

  Jake’s focus didn’t waver. “She’s just done time, boss; give her a little credit. My bet is that she’s a hell of a lot tougher than she looks.”

  I contemplated his response and finally glanced toward the house. Louisiana had been left to her own devices for some time now, and I was beginning to wonder if I needed to be checking on her.

  “Let her have a moment to breathe—she’ll be acclimatizing,” Jake advised, correctly interpreting my hesitation.

  I trusted him. Over the years, Jake and I had a few conversations about his reintroduction to society, where he’d spoken openly and frankly. His candid insight gave me an appreciation for what he, Louisiana, and the six other men who’d been through the program had been going through.

  Not long after our conversation lapsed into silence, a scuffed footstep on the gravel made me snap upright. I turned to see Louisiana walking towards us with her jaw firmly set and determination in her stride.

  Oh, damn.

  Chapter 4

  Louisiana

  I let out the breath I’d been holding when the screen door opened, and Brandon’s heavy boots clomped down the front steps. Although relieved to be given some breathing space, being alone in the massive farmhouse immediately made me feel small and insignificant.

  I reminded myself of why I was here. I had everything to lose yet everything to gain, and that was why I needed this opportunity of redemption to prove that I wasn’t the heartless felon I’d been made out to be.

  The beauty here tugged at my soul and created a yearning I’d never felt before. Something shifted within me the moment I stepped from the Sheriff’s car—almost as if the ranch was welcoming me home. An overwhelming tightness squeezed in my chest, and only once Brandon had crossed the yard, did I let the constricted sob bubble from my throat.

  I was given a second chance away from the harsh confines of a jail cell, and I had to make it count.

  While I grappled with my emotions, I stepped closer to the window and watched Brandon stride across the yard with a natural swagger. His movements were purposeful and strong, yet graceful in the way he held himself. He stopped at a thick-posted fence where another guy had a horse on a rope, guiding it in circles around him. Brandon set one foot on the lowest fence rail and appeared to be having a conversation. For minutes I watched their exchange, noting the way the shirt pulled tight across Brandon’s back when he propped both forearms on the top rail, and how he kept running a hand over his face.

  Guys like him didn’t exist where I came from. Most of them were devious, conniving sons of bitches, that didn’t hesitate to bring a woman to their knees. From what I’d experienced of Brandon so far, he was in a whole other league.

  Tearing myself away from the window, I went back upstairs to use the bathroom attached to my room. Despite it being everyday comforts for some, a private bathroom was a high-end luxury compared to the exposed, barren amenities in jail. I looked forward to using the shower without having to keep my back to the wall and my mind alert. Many attacks occurred during the vulnerable moments within the shower block, away from the prying security cameras. Some guards even turned a blind eye from time to time, and that made me more determined than ever to keep my nose clean while I was in there. I wasn’t cut out for jail. I saw myself as a nice person. Being in the wrong place at the wrong time, really fucked me over—as did my ex.

  My heart raced from the memories and created a sense of panic deep in my chest. I splashed a little cold water on my face and reminded myself that the sheriff assured me I would be safe out here. While Brandon seemed like a nice guy so far, I was yet to meet the other man who looked a whole lot scarier.

  I took my time going back downstairs and tying my shoes. Standing at the top of the porch steps, I looked out over the large, graveled yard and summoned the inner strength I knew I would need out here.

  My eyes landed on Brandon’s wide shoulders before following the tapered angle of his back to where it met his waist. They then skimmed over his jean-clad ass. He was more than easy on the eye; I’d have to be blind not to notice the impeccable shape he was in.

  Picking my way down the steps, I made it halfway across the yard before Brandon snapped upright and twisted in my direction. I divided my glances between him and the dark man grinning in the center of the horse ring.

  Brandon smiled and straightened as I approached. “Got yourself sorted, darli-” He stopped himself and put emphasis on his correction. “Louisiana?”

  I tugged at the hem of my shirt to distract myself from his imploring hazel gaze—the type that was kind and filled with affection, no matter who he looked at.

  “I did. Thank you.”

  A snort from the horse drew my attention, then I looked past the black beast to the stranger. Brandon took that as his cue to introduce us.

  “This is the ranch manager, Jake. You’ll be seeing a lot of him. Jake, this is Louisiana.”

  “Welcome,” Jake called. His tone was friendly enough. However, the dusty farm clothes seemed at odds with his tattoos and the hardened edges around his eyes.

  To escape his assessing gaze, I focused on the horse trotting in circles around him.

  “You know how to ride?” Brandon asked, also focused on its movements.

  “Nope,” I admitted. A bolt of panic had my hand wrapping around Brandon’s wrist. “I don’t have to, do I? Because… just nope.”

  “Yes,” he countered with amusement dancing in his eyes.

  I folded my arms across my chest and stepped back one pace, figuratively and literally digging my heels in. “That’s not happening.”

  Brandon let out a smooth laugh. “I’ll get you on a horse before your time here is done. Most inmates haven’t ridden before, but give it a couple of weeks and you’ll be dandy.”

  When the horse pulled at the rope and reared up, I adamantly shook my head again. Brandon’s warm hand clasped around my shoulder and squeezed gently.

  “You won’t be riding him, Louisiana, so relax. Jake’s breaking him in, and even then, only he or I will be getting in the saddle.”

  “He’s an asshole of a horse at the moment,” Jake added, before clicking his tongue sharply.

  Brandon angled his body toward me as if to emphasize his warning. “Don’t go near him—especially in the stalls. He kicks like a fiend when penned.”

  Despite his cautioning tone, I struggled to focus on the words thanks to a tiny scar on one side of his lower lip. Curiosity over that one faint line seemed to beckon me closer. One innocent swipe of his tongue over the faded scar had my eyes lifting to lock with Brandon’s hazel depths, shining yet guarded. He offered a small smile.

  “So, where are the other horses?” I asked, needing to shift the focus.

  A hum complemented his dreamy smile. With a dip of his chin, he pushed off the fence. “I’ll take you on the tour if you’re up to it?”

  “Of course.”

  Two of my paces matched one of Brandon’s long strides, and despite the short distance to the barn, I arrived a little out of breath. The large wooden doors were already open wide, and it took a few moments for my vision to adjust to the dim interior.

  The first thing that hit me was the odor. I immediately pinched my nose and balked.

  “Argh, wha
t is that smell!”

  Brandon laughed beside me and set his hands on his hips. “The horse stalls,” he answered while trying to get his amusement under control. “There are six down that end, and the gear and fresh hay at that end,” he explained while pointing in either direction.

  Motioning for me to follow him further into the barn, I tracked along behind him. The three stalls along each wall all stood empty, with their doors partially open.

  “Where are the horses?”

  “Out in the pasture. Jake moves them in when needed, mostly if there’s impending bad weather or one’s foaling.” Brandon’s informative tone became sterner when he added, “He’s in charge of the stables until you’re comfortable to share the duties. In the meantime, I’ll start you with something more…” His eyes traveled over my tiny shorts before dropping to my shoes. “...suitable. Louisiana, I’m gonna jump right in and assume you have zero ranching experience.”

  I took exception to his assumption—even though it was correct—and folded my arms over my chest. “What makes you think that?”

  Brandon’s eyes dropped again, and a frown formed on his brow. “Well, I’ll tell you one thing; you’ll be wearing jeans and boots before the week is out, darlin’. Ten minutes in the saddle and your thighs’ll be chafed raw.”

  I pursed my lips hard and subtly moved my feet closer together; the mention of my thighs made me self-conscious.

  “What am I starting on then?”

  Brandon’s smile reappeared and lit his entire face. So striking, it took me off guard. Instantly, his appearance was transformed from attractively cute to incredibly sexy.

  “You, Louisiana, are starting with my little ladies,” he declared, and gestured for me to follow him as he strode toward the exit.

  Keeping my hand pressed over my mouth and nose, I hurried after him and inhaled a deep lungful of fresh air once out in the open.

  We crossed the large yard and veered right of the homestead. There lay a simpler, single-story dwelling with a small covered front porch, then another oversized building prominently sat further to the right, opposite the horse ring. A lane wove between the two before disappearing into the meadows.

  “That’s the ranch manager’s lodging, which is unoccupied at the moment, and down further is the vehicle and machinery shed,” Brandon explained.

  I took it all in, overwhelmed by the vastness that I stood at the center of, nothing more than a pin-prick on the landscape and just as insignificant.

  Nestled in between the two houses was a large, fenced-off enclosure that Brandon aimed for.

  A frown pulled my eyebrows low the moment he declared, “And here are the little ladies you’ll be looking after.”

  “Chickens!”

  He cocked his head. “Have you cared for animals before?”

  A snort left my nose. “Not exactly.”

  “Then you start simple and work your way up to the horses and cows.”

  Panic hit me again. There was no fucking way I was working with cows.

  “Don’t pout,” Brandon drawled with amusement, which made me pout harder.

  “What about a cat? I can do cats.” They were much more appealing than chickens.

  He set his hands on his hips and raised a brow at me. “I have two. They’re self-sufficient, but you’re more than welcome to feed them at night if you wish.”

  “Dogs?” I asked in hope.

  At my question, Brandon set his teeth on his lower lip and let out a piercing whistle. It cut through the air and immediately induced loud, vicious barking. I jumped closer to his side while darting fearful glances around us. Despite the noise of what sounded like a pack of dogs, only one appeared and sprinted right for us.

  “Good boy, Blue,” Brandon praised, and bent to give the dog a firm pat on its head. “Louisiana, this is Blue. The others are caged at the moment.”

  “You keep them caged?” I couldn’t keep the hint of dismay from my voice.

  Brandon stood and pulled back his shoulders, giving the distinct impression that I’d offended him.

  “No, I put them away because I knew you were arriving today. Would you rather have been welcomed by me and a pack of four barking ranch dogs?”

  My displeasure melted away and was replaced with gratitude. I’d had to deal with a lot of shit over the last year, and the whirlwind of the previous few days was beginning to catch up on me. I was frazzled and overly emotional compared to what I used to be like.

  “Thank you,” I murmured and offered my hand for Blue to smell.

  After sniffing all over my palm, legs, and feet, he gave a small chuff, then looked up at Brandon as if waiting for orders.

  I had to admit, he was cute—in a rough, ranch dog kind of way. “What type of dog is he?”

  Brandon ruffled Blue’s head again. “A Queensland Heeler, also known as a Blue Heeler—hence his name.”

  “And the others?”

  “One other Heeler, and two Australian Shepherds. Both breeds are hard-working dogs and have the energy required on the cattle drives that span days. Want to meet them?”

  I hesitated, not sure if I was ready to be a stranger in the center of a group of dogs.

  “I won’t let them out,” Brandon assured me softly.

  Seeing the care and sincerity in his gaze made a little prickle of trust form. Although Brandon did his best to reassure me, the moment the kennels came into sight on the other side of the manager’s house, my senses became overloaded. The overwhelming wave of barking combined with the rattling of the wire cages sent goosebumps clawing down my spine.

  Without warning, memories of screamed abuse and metal clanging against metal as inmates shook their cell doors penetrated the calm I thought I’d found here. Anxiety rose and took hold, wringing the air from my lungs. I was thrust back into the memories I wanted to escape from. Where all I could smell was the harsh solvents and feel the lingering chill from the concrete floor that seeped through my cheap shoes.

  Brandon’s voice swam closer, and his warm palm landed between my shoulder blades. “Louisiana? You okay, darlin’?”

  “I- I…” The urge to flee was consuming. To escape the barking and the concern in his expression, which almost had me crumbling apart on the spot.

  “I just need… a…” I panted.

  Tearing my gaze away from his wretched expression, I turned and blindly hurried down the lane that led toward the meadows. The pace wasn’t fast enough; I still wasn’t able to shake the clawing tension between my ribs.

  Breaking into a run, I let the breeze carry me wherever it chose.

  “Don’t go too far, Louisiana!” Brandon called in a voice that was nothing but a distant reverberation on the wind.

  A piercing whistle cut through the air, and less than ten strides later, Blue was running at my side with his tongue out, thinking we were going on some sort of adventure together.

  If only.

  If… only.

  Chapter 5

  Louisiana

  I eventually came to sit behind the trunk of a large tree once my lungs and legs burned too much to continue. With my breath still and even again, the sounds of vast wilderness settled the rest of the turbulence in my belly. Out here, I could be anywhere in the world and be anyone I wanted to be.

  I had my eyes closed and my head resting against the rough tree bark when approaching footsteps snapped a stick. The approach wasn’t hesitant, nor was the person trying to sneak up on me. I ignored the jean-clad legs entering my peripheral vision and stared off into the lush distance.

  Jake’s deep voice broke the silence. “Howdy, jailbird.”

  That instantly got my back up. “You can quit the name-calling.”

  Jake groaned quietly as he sat and stretched his long legs out in front of him. “You and I both know you’ve been called much worse in the last while.”

  I hugged my knees harder to my chest, as if it would shield me from opening up. “And what would you know?” I snapped.

  I looked
at him then, and the whirlwind in his eyes made my heart drop.

  “I know a whole lot more than you think, Louisiana.”

  Bitterness and disdain tainted his words, and darkness briefly took his thoughts to somewhere far beyond where we sat.

  “How long were you...?” I asked, barely above a whisper.

  Jake snorted. “Long enough to realize that I don’t need to waste more of my life thinkin’ about my past.”

  My tightly coiled muscles began to relax as we lapsed into silence. He was letting me lead the conversation, but also made it clear that he would pick and choose what he answered.

  “How long have you been here?” I ventured.

  “Over four years now. And no, I wasn’t part of this program. Bran created that after I started workin’ here.”

  Since he was forthcoming with information, I tried to press further. “What were you in for?”

  “Stupid shit,” was his emotionless reply. “You?”

  I threw his words back at him. “Stupid shit.”

  Jake chuckled and nodded. The truth was, I hadn’t made many mistakes in my life, but the one that got me convicted had torn away the most precious part of me, and nothing could fix or fill the constant ache and longing the loss left in my heart. It stung whenever I thought of him, and as the prickle of emotion threatened at the back of my nose, I sniffed hard to remove it.

  Jake’s swift movement startled me as he leaned close with a serious expression. “Bran’s a good guy, Louisiana. Don’t ever take advantage of that.”

  Offense blanketed my heartbreak. I blinked in slow motion while processing what sounded like a threat. “What the fuck makes you think I would take advantage of him?”

  Jake lifted his eyebrows and gave me a condescending look. “Why are you really here, jailbird?”

  He raised his hand when I started speaking, and it pissed me off that he asked me a question, then cut me off. “Yeah, we’ve all got a story, but I’m talking about your reason for applying for the program. You don’t exactly scream country girl to me.” He added a pointed look at my attire. “Bran’s right—you’ll need jeans and boots, at the very least. Rory will take you shopping in the next few days.”