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His Montana Bride

Page 22

by Brenda Minton


  Scarlett held her breath. Victor had told her that he’d had a son with the ex-girlfriend he was planning to marry. She hadn’t known he’d also told Joey.

  “Sometimes men say things they shouldn’t,” Hunter said and patted Joey on the shoulder. “That doesn’t mean they don’t...uh—value you.”

  “He doesn’t know what value means,” Scarlett said, her voice desperate. Her son had finally opened up to someone and it would be nice if the man’s response made sense to him and was supportive in some measure.

  She wasn’t sure she could hope for anything more from a man like Hunter.

  “You’re a good boy,” the man said, obviously trying to say the right words. “Things will work out. You’ll see.”

  Joey nodded vigorously as though he agreed. “I’m going to get a new house. And a dog, too.”

  Maybe a dog would at least make him stop carrying around that old stuffed bear, Scarlett thought. Her son looked at her sideways and Scarlett bent to pull him into a hug. “We’ll have to see about the dog.”

  She hadn’t realized that by going down to her son’s level she would be so close to Hunter, who remained at Joey’s side. She could smell pine and wondered if it was from aftershave or if the man had been around trees. She looked up and his eyes were riveted on her face. All she could do was stare back at him. To her surprise, he looked concerned.

  “My dog will be a collie, just like Lassie on the TV show,” Joey said as he twisted out of her arms and turned to the man, his father forgotten for the moment. “She was a real nice dog.”

  The man took his eyes off Scarlett and focused on her son.

  “That she was,” Hunter agreed. Then he grinned.

  The look on his face took her breath away. She sensed it was uncommon for him, but quiet delight showed in his eyes and smile.

  “She never left her boy.” Joey nodded as he kept talking to the man. “Not when he needed her. She always found him.”

  “I have some cats like that,” the man said, his tone solemn. “Very loyal.”

  Joey was watching Hunter, and Scarlett wished she knew what to say. Of all the men to pour his heart out to, Joey had picked the wrong one. That man did not want them here. That fact would wound her son when he realized it. No one wanted to be rejected by their hero. She almost promised a dog just to get her son’s attention away from him.

  “My dad doesn’t have a dog or a cat,” Joey finally whispered to Hunter as though he had secretly outwitted his father. “He doesn’t have my teddy bear, either.”

  Then his smile crumbled and defiance mixed with despair. “My dad’s coming back someday, though. I’ll be his boy again then.”

  Scarlett could only rub his back.

  “Your father’s a fool,” Hunter murmured, all traces of humor having left his face.

  But Joey was looking at her now.

  “It’s okay,” she whispered. “We’ll do everything we can to get a dog.”

  Hunter looked directly at her again. The compassion in his eyes was her undoing. It was as if he knew. It was mostly for her son, but she knew the loss deeply herself. She had trusted her husband—had thought she’d known him—and he’d been someone completely different. When the grief subsided, all that remained was the knowledge that she’d been duped.

  The tears in her eyes blurred her vision so she didn’t see Hunter reach out until he brushed a tear off her cheek. She felt the imprint of his thumb long after the tear had dried.

  “You don’t need to worry,” she said more sharply than was warranted. “I learned my lesson.”

  She didn’t want him to think she was as vulnerable as Joey. She would think twice before she got close to a man again. This one might know more ways to soften up a woman than most, but he was set against her. He had a purpose in what he did.

  Hunter rose and offered her a hand. She took it and he pulled her to her feet.

  The waitress had already set two more cups of coffee and a glass of milk on the table, along with a plate of warm pumpkin muffins.

  Scarlett sat and stirred some cream into her coffee. It steadied her.

  At least I’m done with Victor, she thought. When he’d left, he’d said he wanted Joey to come visit him, but that had not happened despite his phone call. She doubted he really wanted visitation rights. He was going back to his real family, he had informed them, as though she and Joey were cheap imposters. The old girlfriend had found him through the internet and he had proposed marriage to her before he’d even mentioned divorce to Scarlett.

  “It’s time for Joey and me to look to the future,” she said, putting as much optimism into her voice as she could. “I’m ready to see the contract your grandfather has drawn up.”

  “Contract?” Hunter asked.

  She nodded. The divorce had wiped out her savings while she supported herself and her son without Victor’s help. The cost of living in Nome was high. A loaf of whole-wheat bread was five dollars. A can of fruit juice, eight. After Victor left, she’d started working the counter in a sandwich shop and taking a business course at the local extension college. She hadn’t been able to go back to guiding wilderness trips since some of them were overnight and she’d had no one to take care of Joey. She usually had to fly to Fairbanks or the base of Mount McKinley to meet up with the groups in the summer. The trips were all several days long. In the winter, only the Bering Sea and a nearby native village served as wilderness destinations.

  When Colin Jacobson had written to her grandmother and offered this land, it had seemed perfect for them all. Her grandmother had health issues and could live more comfortably with her and Joey in this house than the one they had now. They could raise chickens and maybe grow vegetables. She knew how to can food and chop wood if necessary. They wouldn’t have to pay rent. She was ready for the challenge of making a living for her son and grandmother on this piece of property with its modest dwelling and distant neighbors. Maybe her sisters would even come and live nearby. It could be paradise.

  “You can’t really be thinking of giving them that land?” Hunter’s voice carried and she realized he had stood again and was looking at his grandfather. The two men had been talking together in low voices while she’d let her coffee cool. “You’re going to make things worse when you pull out of the deal.”

  Everything was so quiet in the café that the sound of the clock ticking in the far corner was like someone hammering. All of the other diners had stopped talking and were staring at Hunter and then Scarlett.

  She should be able to endure any kind of scrutiny. But she could see by this man’s clenched jaw that he’d noticed the interest, too, and was no more comfortable with it than she was.

  “What’s the angle?” Hunter demanded as he scowled at his grandfather.

  “Well, it’s not just a straight-out gift,” the old man confessed. “I told them they need to farm the land for at least five years or they lose the place. But that only makes sense. And they need to give up claim to that gold mine I took from them. My conscience won’t rest easy until I’ve finally paid for the blasted thing.”

  “How are they going to work the land?” Hunter asked as though he’d found the flaw in the whole offer. “If they can’t do it, it all goes back to you. Is that it?”

  Scarlett rose. “Don’t worry. I’m going to work the place. I’m not giving it up.”

  “You?” The man turned to her, astonishment on his face.

  “I can drive a tractor,” she told him. She liked physical work.

  Hunter looked at her with pity.

  “Have you ever eaten dust all day?” he asked. “It’s not like turning the motor on one of those things at the county fair. Or riding around on a fancy lawn mower. You’ll get your hands dirty. Your shoulders will ache. Your face will blister. Your fingernails will be ragged. You’ll have dust up your nose.”<
br />
  “My nose has known worse,” she said.

  He arched one of his dark eyebrows at her in disbelief.

  “I’ve sledded across the frozen Bering Sea in the middle of the winter with a team of dogs,” she informed him. “The air was so cold, my nose pinched together every time I took a breath. Some dust would have been a relief. I kept a scarf wrapped around my face. I was taking a medical group to the Russian side. It was bitter cold and storming.”

  They’d almost died—would have done so with a less determined guide—but she had pulled them back to Nome through sheer will power. At that time in her life, she hadn’t been afraid of anything. Nurturing a bit of dry ranch land in Montana would be child’s play next to that.

  Suddenly, Hunter reached down, picked up the gray Stetson sitting on the edge of the table and set it on his head. Then he looked at her. “You and I need to talk.”

  He stepped around the table and motioned toward the door. “Joey will be fine in here with my grandfather—at least until he’s old enough to crack open his piggy bank. We’ll have some privacy on the porch.”

  His voice was deep. The voice of a man in command of a situation. Hunter didn’t even look around as he walked toward the door. His back was ramrod-straight, his shoulders square and determined. Her grandmother had said the Jacobson men were all thieves, scoundrels and reprobates, without a conscience to guide any of them. She’d said it with a secret smile that Scarlett was just beginning to understand, though.

  The Jacobson men were used to being able to enthrall women. Hunter probably thought he could give her some compliments and a couple of smiles and she would leave without the property she’d come to claim. Well, she wasn’t going to let this man stop her—even though she hadn’t exactly been subject to the compliment part so far.

  She followed him anyway.

  He opened the door for her and shut it after he stepped out. She frowned when she looked at the sky from the porch of the café. She knew storms and one was coming.

  “How much money will it take to make you go away?” Hunter asked when they had both turned to each other. His gray eyes were cold as metal.

  “Are you trying to pay me off?” she asked incredulously. He apparently didn’t feel he needed to waste any charm on her when cold hard cash would do. “Even more than my travel expenses?”

  “If that’s what it takes. Yes.”

  “I’m staying.”

  A flash of lightning ripped across the sky and the crash of thunder followed close behind.

  Hunter looked startled, but she figured he had his answer with celestial backup.

  “And I don’t appreciate someone thinking I’m that flighty,” she added. “I know my own mind and it’s not for sale.”

  “Flighty?” he asked with a smile that was almost charming. “I don’t think—”

  She wasn’t ready to listen to any insincere apology.

  “I need to return to Alaska on Monday, but I’ll be back with a loaded truck before you know it,” Scarlett promised. She resisted the urge to poke her finger at him even though she felt her breath catch at the thought. She had to admit he did have an appealing chest, one worthy of a king.

  She reminded herself that she needed to make a decision about moving soon, but he didn’t need to know she was pressed for time. It wouldn’t be long before the Bering Sea would start to freeze over and she wouldn’t be able to send her belongings by ship down to Seattle. There were no roads that led to Nome, so driving out was not possible. Everything entered the small town by either ship or plane. The freight cost for even a portion of her household things would be several thousand dollars so she’d have to sell or give away most of what she had.

  She decided he didn’t need to know any of that; he’d just try to argue her out of coming. She’d waited her whole life for a chance like this and she wasn’t going to back down now.

  The porch had only a short overhang for a roof. She leaned back and looked up at the storm that seemed to have applauded her decision. Her triumph was cut short. Her breath felt short. And she was dizzy. She reached around for something to hold on to and found nothing but Hunter’s hand.

  She almost didn’t take it and then she started to fall.

  She wondered if he would catch her since he didn’t want her here in the first place.

  Copyright © 2014 by Janet Tronstad

  ISBN-13: 9781460341131

  His Montana Bride

  Copyright © 2014 by Harlequin Books S.A.

  Special thanks and acknowledgment to Brenda Minton for her contribution to the Big Sky Centennial miniseries.

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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