His Montana Bride

by Brenda Minton

  “I can’t go?”

  He shook his head. “Not on your life.”

  She hugged Katie for the third time. “I love you, Kate.”

  “I love you, Marci.”

  He smiled at the two of them together. Katie was whispering something to Marci. The two of them laughed. He couldn’t believe how blessed he was.

  “Ready to go?” he asked Katie. Everyone else had disappeared, leaving them alone. Since the proposal and the wedding, they’d had very little time alone. He had no doubt that tomorrow there would be a lot of talk about the two of them.

  Katie had changed into a traveling dress and she’d repaired the mascara that had smeared during the proposal. She’d blamed him for the raccoon eyes that would be in all the photos. He’d kissed each eye and told her he loved her eyes.

  And her nose. And her lips. He kissed them again, just to prove his love.

  “Cord, we have to leave.”

  “We have to get married,” he spoke softly near her ear and was rewarded with a light shiver as he held her in his arms.

  “Yes, we do.”

  “You might have been a beautiful bridesmaid and a gorgeous best man, Kate Archer Shaw, but you are a knockout as a bride.”

  “You’re not so bad yourself.”

  He helped her into the truck and kissed her again before he closed the door.

  * * *

  Katie leaned back in the seat of the truck and closed her eyes. She was married. No, she wasn’t married. Her dress was on a hanger in the backseat of the truck, along with the bags that had been packed compliments of Faith and Annette who had raced to the Shaw ranch to gather up what they could for Cord and Katie. She wasn’t married but she would be, soon.

  She waited for Cord to get in the truck and then she smiled at him, feeling more sure of herself when he smiled back. This was real. It wasn’t a dream. On Monday she would be Mrs. Cord Shaw. Faith and Annette were following behind them, to be witnesses and help make arrangements.

  “What happened?” She meant to him, to make him want this between them.

  In the dark cab of the truck he reached for her hand.

  “I was telling all those people about love, marriage and community. As I talked, I realized that you are everything to me. You’re the person who makes me stronger. And I hope I’m that person for you, Kate.”

  “I wouldn’t be here if you weren’t.”

  He grinned at that. “I love you. I know we haven’t had a lot of time together. This is probably the craziest thing either of us has ever done, but I want you to know I’m going to devote myself to you, to our children and to this marriage.”

  She closed her eyes at those words that sounded so very much like wedding vows. “I promise to devote myself to you, Cord, to our children, to this marriage. And to God, who brought us together.”

  “I wish I could kiss the bride a second time.”

  She opened her eyes and smiled at him. “You can, soon.”

  * * *

  They were married Monday afternoon in a pretty, white-sided wedding chapel that sat in the woods at the edge of the lake. Katie held Cord’s hand as the sun sparkled through the windows, revealing a beautiful afternoon in the mountains of Idaho, the lake shimmering as a soft breeze blew across the surface. Across the way, the mountains were hazy and dark with bright blue sky behind.

  This time there were no fifty couples, no crowds of people. It was just the two of them, the minister, his wife, Annette and Faith. Faith stood next to her, holding a bouquet of white roses.

  The minister held the Bible in his hands and smiled at them, intoning vows that held to a sacred belief that marriage was forever. He asked them to promise to keep those vows, to cherish one another, to love each other well.

  Cord smiled down at her and when the time came, he repeated the words the minister had asked him to repeat. And then it was Katie’s turn.

  She held Cord’s hands and repeated the vows for the second time in forty-eight hours. That she would love him, forsaking all others, cleave only unto him.

  And for the second time, a minister pronounced them man and wife. For the second time, a minister told Cord to kiss his bride. Katie accepted that kiss, loving the firmness of his lips against hers, the way his hand lingered on her back, holding her close, and then the way he whispered that she was meant for him. This time they were truly husband and wife.

  Once upon a time, she had thought she had to chase after love, looking for someone to love her back. And the whole time that man already was. He’d been waiting for her even though he hadn’t known.

  * * * * *

  If you liked this BIG SKY CENTENNIAL novel,

  watch for the next book,

  HIS MONTANA HOMECOMING

  by Jenna Mindel,

  available November 2014

  And don’t miss a single story in the

  BIG SKY CENTENNIAL miniseries:

  Book #1: HER MONTANA COWBOY

  by Valerie Hansen

  Book #2: HIS MONTANA SWEETHEART

  by Ruth Logan Herne

  Book #3: HER MONTANA TWINS

  by Carolyne Aarsen

  Book #4: HIS MONTANA BRIDE

  by Brenda Minton

  Book #5: HIS MONTANA HOMECOMING

  by Jenna Mindel

  Book #6: HER MONTANA CHRISTMAS

  by Arlene James

  Keep reading for an excerpt from ALASKAN SWEETHEARTS by Janet Tronstad.

  Dear Reader,

  It was a pleasure for me to get the opportunity to work on this continuity series. I hope that you’ll enjoy it and the other books in Big Sky Centennial as much as I did. I also hope it will give you the same desire to visit Montana that it gave me. By the end of the series I was ready to move to Jasper Gulch! In His Montana Bride, our hero, Cord Shaw, has had to work through faith that was shaken—but not lost. It happens. We face tragedies or difficulties and we can’t wrap our mind around the situation or figure out how God could allow them to happen. Afterward, we can look back and see God at work in our lives. We can see how our faith grew. We can see that the outcome led us onto new paths. And God never left us. I hope you enjoy all of the Big Sky books and that you can look at the mountains in your life and know that God has not left you alone.

  Questions for Discussion

  Katie Archer seems to be a strong person and yet she is in Jasper Gulch for her sister, Gwen, and even remains in Jasper Gulch for her. What do you think about these two opposing sides of her personality?

  What reasons do you see for Katie’s sense of inferiority and is that who God wants her to be?

  What is the relationship between Katie and her sister at the beginning of the book? Have you ever experienced tense relations with a sibling? Did anything happen to change that?

  Cord Shaw is the oldest brother of the Shaw children. He is strong and a caretaker. Does a man with a solid foundation of faith simply walk away from God or is he questioning and finding answers?

  Katie wasn’t raised in church, but she is searching. What is she hoping to find in Jasper Gulch? How does faith change her life and has it changed your life?

  Why did Katie make the decision not to date? Did you think that was a wise decision for her? Why or why not?

  Cord has had two broken engagements. He also lost a friend in a tragic accident. How did these situations change his life and faith? Have you encountered a big change that altered your own life?

  Katie is obviously attracted to Cord. What reasons does she have for avoiding or ignoring that attraction?

  How does Katie’s presence make a difference in Marci’s life? How do you think their relationship will change over time?

  When something shifts the path we’re on, such as Cord’s two broken engagements, we often see them as something that has happened to
us. How can we see that it might be something that hurts but that it happened for us? How was it best for Cord?

  How did Katie’s sister, Gwen, change toward Katie? What made the big difference in their relationship? Have you experienced relationships that changed as you grew in your faith?

  Katie has to make a decision about the wedding and her participation as one of the couples. Why would this be something she really has to think about? Have you faced a decision that made you question how it would affect your faith?

  When does Cord really begin to see Katie as someone he could spend his life with?

  How does Katie’s coming to Jasper Gulch change her life and Cord’s? Have you ever made a change and then realized it was meant to be?

  We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Love Inspired story.

  You believe hearts can heal. Love Inspired stories show that faith, forgiveness and hope have the power to lift spirits and change lives—always.

  Enjoy six new stories from Love Inspired every month!

  Connect with us on Harlequin.com for info on our new releases, access to exclusive offers, free online reads and much more!

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  Chapter One

  Thick clouds gathered overhead as Hunter Jacobson pressed down on the gas pedal of his pickup, determined to reach the café in Dry Creek, Montana, before his grandfather talked Scarlett Murphy out of whatever money she had in her purse. He had the windows open and leaned forward, feeling the sweat on his back. He’d never seen this Scarlett woman, but he pictured her carrying one of those worn black clutches that widows used for their grocery money. He gritted his teeth and stepped on the gas pedal harder.

  “Of course, she’s not going to thank me for saving her,” he muttered, glancing down at his sole passenger, a calico barn cat who was sitting on the other side of the pickup floor licking one of her front paws. She’d gone with him to feed the cattle and he hadn’t taken time to shoo her away when he’d gotten back into the pickup moments ago. She ignored him now.

  Hunter eyed the country road more closely, squinting as dust billowed up. The sky ahead was gray and the wheat fields beside the road were nothing but a blur of early fall stubble as he sped by.

  He had seen the woman’s letter lying open on the table when he’d gone inside the house to get a drink of water before heading back to the fields. His grandfather’s pickup wasn’t parked in its usual spot and, since they were the only ones living on the ranch, he’d picked up the note thinking it was for him. Instead he’d read that Scarlett Murphy was to meet his grandfather this morning at the café to sign some papers he had for her. Her signature was ladylike, spider-web thin and elegant. Nobody under seventy years of age wrote that way anymore.

  Not that age was proof against his grandfather’s schemes. Hunter was thirty-three years old, but he probably wouldn’t know what to do about the old man’s mischief if he lived to be a hundred.

  Hunter pulled up close to the café, then braked and turned his vehicle onto the strip of barren dirt that everyone used for parking. He pulled the keys from the ignition and opened the door all in the same smooth motion. The heat hit him as he reached back and grabbed the envelope that held the letter. He was surprised when the cat jumped out of the pickup. He’d thought her paw would still be bothering her since he’d pulled a prickly cocklebur out of it only hours ago.

  He bent to pick up the feline, but she dodged his hands. The family of cats who had ruled the ranch’s barns for generations was tough. They were survivors, all of them. He decided that if this one wanted to run loose for a few minutes among the dozen or so buildings that made up the small town of Dry Creek, she wouldn’t come to any harm.

  Hunter wasn’t so sure about his grandfather’s fate.

  Thus far, the old man’s victims had all taken pity on him and not pressed charges once they’d been paid back. But one of these days he would trip up. The schemes had started more than twenty years ago after the car accident that had killed Hunter’s parents. Only a boy then, Hunter hadn’t paid much attention to the problems his grandfather had caused. Their neighbors had held back their complaints at first, saying they could understand how a tragedy like that could unhinge a man who was already in his sixties at the time. But those days of tolerance were long over.

  His grandfather’s deals were legendary. Early on, the old man had convinced one farmer to buy a new breed of pigs, claiming they would reproduce like rabbits. They were all sterile. Then he sold a vacuum cleaner that was supposed to remove grease spots. Instead it shredded the carpet and left the stain untouched in the frayed pieces that were left. One after the other, their neighbors had been duped, and gradually the gossip had spread. Finally even the fresh eggs that Hunter’s two younger brothers had tried to sell one summer at a farmer’s market had all come home still in their crate. A rumor had started that the eggs were empty shells and no one had enough faith to even crack one open to find out.

  Hunter stood in the dirt beside his pickup, the cat twining around his feet, and lifted his eyes to the darkening sky in frustration. Every man, woman and child this side of the Dakota border had been warned not to have any dealings with the Jacobson family. Hunter had thought God would take care of the old man’s inclinations after they’d both returned to the church a year ago.

  Apparently—Hunter gave the sky a look of rueful reproach—it wasn’t going to be that easy.

  Shaking his head, he hurried up the porch steps, reaching for the handle on the café door just as he heard a quiet motor behind him. He turned and almost stepped on the cat.

  “Oops,” he apologized.

  The feline gave him a sharp meow.

  Then both Hunter and the cat turned to see what was coming. A sleek black car had pulled off the asphalt road that swept in from the highway. Slowly, it rolled to a stop. The windshield was tinted, but Hunter didn’t need to see inside to know a stranger was behind the wheel. Anyone who drove these roads with any regularity had dirt and mud splattered on both sides of their car, especially during this time of year when the rain came in a downpour or not at all. This car was spotless.

  Not many strangers found their way into Dry Creek. This had to be Scarlett Murphy.

  Hunter looked down at the envelope he held. He read the return address for the first time—Nome, Alaska. Now that was odd, he thought. His grandfather had gotten his start there as a young man in the 1950s. He’d worked a small gold mine on a trickle of running water called Dry Creek just outside the town of Nome. Located near the Bering Sea, the mine had made enough money that, when he’d left it, his grandfather had been able to buy eighty acres on the banks of a different Dry Creek in southeastern Montana. Hunter always believed his grandfather had been lonesome for Alaska when he’d bought his property down here. There was no other way to explain the coincidence of the names.

  Hunter waited on the porch, the cat beside him, as a woman stepped out of the car. She didn’t turn toward the café but stared into the window of the hardware store on the opposite side of the street. The store was filled with shadows, but a person could still make out the black potbellied stove in the middle of the room and the men sitting on chairs around it talking.

  Beside him, the cat started to make a noise low in its throat. Hunter couldn’t tell if it was a growl at the threat of the woman or a purr of appreciation at seeing someone so striking.

  Hunter voted for the threat. The blood slowly drained out of his face as he realized he had been mistaken about Scarlett. If this woman carried a clutch, it had a designer label. Even without seeing her face, he knew she was young, not old. And he was almost certain that her last name—Murphy—was the same as the business partner in Nome who had betrayed his grandfather years ago by stealing the woman he’d loved. The gro
wing unease Hunter had about all of this deepened. The old man had been muttering about the meaning of life lately. Maybe it wasn’t past habits that had caused this latest bit of mischief. Maybe his grandfather wanted to settle a score and get some final revenge before he died.

  Lord, help us all, Hunter thought in an absentminded prayer. If his grandfather was intent on vengeance, he could cause big trouble.

  Hunter could only see the woman’s back, but the graceful set of her shoulders and the halo of fiery copper hair blowing lightly around her head made her look like a Botticelli angel out for an morning stroll. The charge in the air might not all be from the upcoming lightning, he thought as he swallowed. His grandfather had said the woman who broke his heart had been stunning. This one was certainly her equal. She wore a sleeveless white silk top. Her arms were well-defined and bronzed by the sun. She put a hand up to smooth down the wayward strands of her hair and he saw a silver bracelet on her wrist. She had muscles and was, at the same time, delicate and utterly feminine.

  Hunter was taking a step down from the porch when the woman turned around. He faltered. She was even more beautiful than he’d feared. Something sparkled as she lifted a silver chain that was loose around her neck and slipped it into the front of her blouse. Her face was pale and brushed with the same bronze as her arms. He couldn’t fully see the color of her eyes from where he stood, but he could sense their intensity. As best he could tell they were hazel, gold mixed with green.

  That’s when he realized he could feel the smoldering heat in her eyes because she was staring at him—and not in a good way.

  He looked down at his shirt. He hadn’t changed after coming in from feeding the cattle and discovering the letter. Hunter tried to casually brush the fine hay dust off of his jeans without calling too much attention to it, but there was nothing he could do about the small red stain he’d gotten from putting iodine on the scrape he’d found along the back of the milk cow this morning. His boots were scuffed but clean.