His Montana Bride

by Brenda Minton

  Once, a long time ago, he’d thought he’d be married, have kids, and have someone to be a partner in the tough times. It hadn’t happened, obviously. And it had convinced him there weren’t many women interested in a relationship that included a child that wasn’t even his.

  It had been a long time since he’d trusted.

  Chapter Four

  They shared a picnic on the banks of the lake, horses tied nearby and the border collie, Jake, nosing in the brown grass of early October. Nearby, a stream trickled, the water emptying into the lake. There had been a good rain a few days ago, which had set the nearly dry source of water into action once again. He told her that come spring, when the snows melted, it would be more of a rush rather than a trickle of water.

  Katie had listened, watching as Marci wandered away to walk along the lake, playing with the dog as she went.

  “So, you don’t ride or fish. What do you do for fun in Missoula?” Cord asked as he leaned back on the blanket, a careful eye on Marci.

  What did she do in Missoula? Katie shrugged one shoulder as she searched for an answer because in the last year she’d changed a lot. She no longer partied. She no longer cared about the dating scene. She doubted he wanted those answers. He was being polite, not really wanting insight into her life. “I work.”

  One corner of his mouth kicked up. “Of course you do. What else? Do you date? Do you play bridge?”

  She laughed at that. “People still play bridge?”

  “I have no idea. It was just the first thing that came to mind.”

  “Bridge came to mind? I’m not sure what that says about you. Do you know how to play bridge?”

  “Not a clue,” he confessed, his cheeks turning a little pink under his deep tan. “I know that we’re trying to rebuild a bridge and hoping this wedding brings enough business to town to aid in that goal. I take it that’s the wrong kind of bridge?”

  “Yes, the wrong bridge.”

  “So,” he prodded again.

  “I work. I spend time with friends.” Most of whom were getting married or moving away. That left fewer friends. She did have a collection of never-to-be-worn-again bridesmaid’s dresses hanging in her closet.

  “Family?”

  “Nothing like yours.”

  “Is Gwen your only sibling?”

  She glanced at him, a sideways glance, taking in his handsome profile half shaded by the black cowboy hat he had donned after church. “Yes, she is.”

  He had been leaning back on one elbow. He sat up, watching her. She chose to look toward the lake because it was easier to focus on water that shimmered and sparkled than to face his piercing blue eyes, softened as they were by dark lashes. On the bank of the lake Marci picked up a rock and skipped it across the glassy water.

  “You’re close, you and Gwen?” Cord pushed.

  “We’re close.” Enough. They were close enough.

  “Your parents?”

  She looked away from Marci back to the man sitting next to her. “Are they close?”

  He grinned and her insides melted a little. “Sure, okay, we’ll go with that.”

  “They’ve been married for thirty-three years and they wouldn’t not be married. But I’m not sure if they like each other.”

  She sometimes wondered if they liked her. And she wasn’t a melodramatic person, just a realist. She didn’t fit. When she looked at family pictures she was the odd one out. Gwen, beautiful, petite, dark brown hair and a brain that never forgot a fact. Carla, her mother, was a dentist. James, her father, was a lawyer. Katie’s red hair came from her great-grandmother. She’d once heard her mother say that she’d wanted Katie to have black hair, like her husband’s.

  “My parents were high school sweethearts,” Cord said with a shrug. “I don’t know how they stay in love but they do.”

  “They are proof that some marriages work.”

  “Yes, I guess they are. They’ve been a great example to us. We’ve seen them work out their disagreements, go through hard times and still hold on to each other.”

  Katie wondered, but she didn’t comment. What she’d seen in the few days since she’d arrived in Jasper Gulch on the first day of October was a couple that loved each other but maybe weren’t in agreement. There was something beneath the surface, something going on. Katie saw it in the looks they gave one another and in whispered conversations. If something was going on between Jackson and Nadine Shaw, it couldn’t be easy to work through it with strangers in their home.

  “Thank you for letting me join you today,” Katie said, shifting to a safer topic. “I know this is usually your day with Marci.”

  He pushed his hat back and gave her a closer look. “You know that, do you?”

  “Julie,” she admitted.

  “Julie, of course. She’s a little too much in my business of late.”

  “She’s really terrific.”

  “Of course she is. Terrific and in my business.”

  “I’m sorry.” Katie pulled her knees up and rested her chin as she watched Marci race across the field, the dog chasing after her. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

  “You’re not prying. You’ve been tossed into our lives since you got here. I don’t think that was your plan or our intention. And I’m probably as surprised as Julie that I invited you this afternoon. Or that Marci agreed to the invitation.”

  “Why is that?”

  “That you’ve been tossed into our lives?” His smile said he knew that wasn’t her question. “I think because you’re easy to be around and you allow yourself to be a part of what is going on here.”

  “Not that.”

  His gaze now lingered on the young girl who was sitting on the grass some distance from them, the black-and-white border collie licking her face as she laughed. “I protect her because she deserves to be protected. I was engaged.”

  “I heard. But not to her mother?”

  He shook his head but his attention remained focused on Marci. “I met my fiancée when Marci was four. Susan didn’t want anything to do with Marci. I kept holding on to hope that she’d change her mind. I kept moving forward with the wedding plans, thinking that once we were married she would warm up to the idea of Marci in our lives. Instead, she left the state with my best friend.”

  “Dodged that one, didn’t you?”

  He laughed at her easy response to a situation that had left him with a bad taste in his mouth and no desire to ever repeat the mistake. “I guess you could put it that way.”

  “I do have a way with words.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  “And Marci’s mom?”

  He sighed and sat up, one leg bent, his knee up, the other leg stretched out in front of him. “Angie. She was one of my best friends for most of my life. She got pregnant in college by a guy who didn’t want Marci.”

  His phone rang, ending the moment and the conversation. Katie started packing up the remains of their picnic as he pushed himself to his feet and walked away. As he talked in low tones, she cast a cautious glance his way, wondering what might have stolen the smile he wore just moments earlier. As he talked, he watched Marci playing, nodded a few times, and when the conversation ended, he didn’t speak for a few minutes.

  “Is everything okay?” She had everything back in the backpack and the blanket they’d sat on was folded.

  “No, I have to leave. And I’m not sure how I’m going to do this, but I can’t take Marci to town with me.”

  “You have to go to town?”

  He grabbed the pack and attached it to the saddle of his horse. “Yes, I do. There’s a situation I need to take care of.”

  “Of course.”

  He untied her horse and led the gray gelding to her. They stood there for a moment, she staring up at him. It took her by surprise, ha
ving to look up. Her world closed in, focusing only on him. And it frightened her. She didn’t want to go down that path again.

  This man was dangerous. His strength was a danger. As was his kindness. More than that, his vulnerability was dangerous. That might be the most dangerous part, that part of him that had been hurt, might still be hurting, might need someone desperately. It was in his eyes, in the guarded look he shifted in Marci’s direction as the girl cavorted with the dog, unaware of the phone call. Katie guessed that it probably had something to do with the child.

  She wanted to help Cord but wasn’t sure how. And she knew better than to try to be that person for anyone. Because it always hurt later, when she realized she’d just been filling the space of friend.

  He handed her the reins to the horse.

  “Foot in the stirrup,” he said softly, and as she moved, she realized how close they were to one another. His hand was on the saddle and their faces were inches apart. He leaned, so close she could feel the warmth of him.

  He stepped back, shaking his head just a little.

  “Wow.” He whistled. “I’m not sure what to say.”

  “Hmm.” She didn’t know what to say, either. She needed to think of something. Fast. Before she claimed the kiss she knew he’d considered and then reconsidered. “What is the situation in town, or should I ask?”

  “You shouldn’t ask.”

  “Is there anything I can do?”

  He darted a quick look over his shoulder before looking at her again, letting out a shaky sigh. “Her grandmother, Lulu, has Alzheimer’s. I’m not sure how long she’s had it, but it’s progressed to the point that she can no longer hide it.”

  “Marci?”

  Serious regret settled in the depths of his blue eyes. “We were going to sit her down and tell her. We should have told her sooner but it’s a lot of reality for an eleven-year-old kid.”

  “And right now?”

  “She was at the diner and when she walked out to the car she couldn’t remember how to get home. She looked confused, so a couple of friends asked if they could help and she told them. They took her home and are there with her now, waiting for me.”

  “We’re wasting time.”

  She somehow she managed to get back in the saddle, knowing her legs would punish her later for this unusual treatment. Marci was heading their way, laughing as the dog chased her. Cord had her horse untied and handed her the reins when she stopped in front of him.

  “Time to go, kiddo.”

  Marci threw herself easily into the saddle and gave him an annoyed look from her perch on the pretty bay she rode, a deep brown–coated animal with black legs and a black mane and tail. Until today Katie hadn’t known a bay from a dapple gray. Gray being the horse she rode.

  “Why?”

  “We need to take Katie back to the main ranch and then you and I will have a talk.” Cord had a hand on her horse’s neck.

  “About?” Marci held the reins of the restless horse and finally spoke sharply, telling her mare to stop. The mare settled.

  “I don’t want to discuss it right now.” Cord’s tone took on that fatherly, brook-no-argument tone.

  “Is something wrong with Grammy?”

  Katie bit down on her lip and waited for Cord’s reply. This man she’d known for only a few days, and already she felt so tied into his life. Her heart ached for him and for the girl staring him down. He might think that Marci didn’t know anything was wrong with her grandmother, but Katie thought he might be wrong.

  * * *

  Now what did he do? Cord looked down at the ground, wishing it would swallow him up but knowing this was a situation he’d have to face. He looked up and caught the eyes of the woman he’d invited along for a day that should have been relaxing and now she was all kinds of tied into their lives. Exactly where he didn’t want her.

  “Why do you think something is wrong with your grammy?”

  Marci bit down on her bottom lip and her sigh hung up a little, sounding more like a sob. “Because I know she’s sick. I know something is wrong. She forgot the car in town and walked home. When I asked her where the car was, she told me she’d never owned a car.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” Cord stood next to her horse, his hand on hers.

  “Because later she remembered and she was embarrassed and told me it must be the blood pressure medication. But it wasn’t, because she forgot that I go to school. I think she thought I was my mom.”

  Behind him, hooves crunched on the rocky ground. “If you want,” Katie said, “I don’t mind riding along. You’ll get there quicker if you don’t have to take me to the main house.”

  He glanced up at the woman in the saddle, her red hair was pulled back in a ponytail. Her cheeks were rosy from the cool, October mountain air and her green eyes were bright and knowing.

  He didn’t know what to say. He’d dragged her into their lives. He’d put her on that horse she rode with natural grace even though she’d never really ridden. He’d given her entrance and now he couldn’t push her back. Because, man, he didn’t want to face this alone. If she was willing to be a friend to both him and Marci during a pretty rotten time, he’d take the offer.

  He didn’t want to tell a kid that her grandmother was going to start forgetting her, forgetting school programs and forgetting hugs they had always shared.

  He hated this disease, hated what it did to the person who faced it and the families that lost loved ones long before they left this earth. Eleven was too young to face this.

  “Cord?” Her hand settled on his shoulder.

  He looked up and finally nodded. “Marci, we’ll check on Grammy together.”

  “Okay.” Tears were filling Marci’s brown eyes. “It isn’t her medicine, is it?”

  “No.” He let out a long sigh. “It isn’t.”

  As he swung himself into the saddle of his horse, Katie rode up next to Marci, putting her hand on his goddaughter’s arm and giving her an encouraging smile. And Cord didn’t know how to tell her she didn’t have to do this. She’d stayed because her sister asked and now she was going to be with him when he told Marci that soon her grandmother would probably have to live in the nursing home a town away from them.

  His big dun sidestepped beneath him, sensing his mood. The mousy-gray horse tossed his head and pulled at the bit, trying to move forward. Cord held him in careful control, watching as Katie and Marci rode out ahead of him. Life shifted, changing in that moment in a way he hadn’t expected. He was still trying to tell himself that Katie was safe, an easy person to be around, uncomplicated. And then he called himself a liar because she was anything but uncomplicated.

  * * *

  When they pulled up to the little house Marci lived in with her grandmother, Cord noticed Lulu on the front porch sitting on her little glider bench. She waved and even smiled, but the smile faltered and her hand dropped to her lap.

  Ten years ago he’d stood on this same porch wondering how to knock, how to tell Lulu that her only child was dead, killed when a truck slid on icy roads and hit her car head-on. He’d stayed the night, holding little Marci and promising the two of them that he’d always be there.

  He remembered trying to explain that to Susan, his former fiancée. She’d told him that was fine but once they were married he’d have to understand that he couldn’t take care of the whole world. They would have children of their own, she’d informed him, and a life of their own. He’d understood. He really had. A woman didn’t want to share her life with an orphaned child and a widow.

  He’d been prepared to juggle his responsibilities and he’d hoped Susan would come around. As he got out of the truck, Katie was getting out on the other side. She held the door open for Marci and reached for the child’s hand. Marci took the offered hand without hesitation. And now he knew his oth
er fear, that a girl growing into her teen years needed more than a bachelor cowboy.

  Today she needed someone soft, someone with arms that could hug. She needed a gentle touch and a woman’s voice in her ear. That had been obvious on the drive to town. Marci had held tight to Katie’s hand as he had explained what was happening to her grandmother. It had surprised him that it was a stranger’s hand Marci reached for, but maybe it made sense. Sometimes it was easier to turn to a stranger, someone with no expectations.

  “It’ll be okay.” Katie offered as they walked toward the house. “But it won’t be easy.”

  Honesty. It would not, in any way, be easy. He’d known for a while that something was up with Lulu. He’d seen it months before she’d told him the truth. He’d caught her a few times at church talking to someone she’d always known, but the look in her eyes had troubled him. It had been as if she was talking to strangers but pretending she knew them.

  When he’d talked to his mom about this, she had told him that Alzheimer’s patients often pretended to remember. She’d volunteered at the nursing home and understood better than he did.

  “Marci!” Lulu stood as they approached. “Honey, I was worried about you. Where have you been?”

  “With Cord, Grammy, remember? We saw him at church and I left with him.”

  Lulu frowned but then she nodded, “Of course. Do you know, I had to get a ride home with the Parkers? My car wouldn’t start. But they’re leaving now.”

  Marci looked from her grandmother to Cord. He nodded toward the house and she hurried inside, Katie right behind her. The door closed with a soft click, leaving Cord and Lulu alone on the porch.

  “Lulu?” Cord took her arm. “Let’s go inside.”

  “No, Cord, I don’t want to do this.”