The Man from Montana

by Julianna Morris

  “I’m sure we’ve all done that at one time or another.”

  “Yeah, but now I also feel bad about Nadia and Grace. Maybe if I’d said something when they first arrived, they wouldn’t have had that party last night and gotten fired.”

  She put the sandwich down on the insulated bag, her stomach full. How much did Lee Sutter think she could eat?

  Clay shook his head. “Grace and Nadia are adults. If they can’t restrain themselves without a housemother to enforce good behavior, they aren’t right for the job. When someone is leading a group, whether it’s for two hours or a week, they have to be reliable. What they did is their own responsibility. It has nothing to do with you.”

  Tessa contemplated her peaceful surroundings and tried to put a brake on her churning thoughts. She supposed feeling guilty about Renee could lead to a sense of guilt about all sorts of other things. “You mentioned Nadia and Grace had done a good job last summer and the year before that, right?”

  “Yes, but they were living with their parents and I only assigned them to day trips. I’m not happy about firing them, but I couldn’t take the chance of sending them out with clients after they showed such poor judgment.”

  * * *

  CLAY LEANED AGAINST a rock and stretched out his legs. He wasn’t surprised Tessa felt bad for the guides he’d fired. She cared about people, enough to be concerned about the fate of two annoying bunkhouse roommates she barely knew.

  His own disappointment had practical elements. He would have to look for more guides, or use a tighter rotation of the ones already on the payroll. A tight rotation was chancy, because an illness, injury or family emergency could throw everything off. Andrew was leading a fair number of the day hikes already, and Clay could count on Tessa to do others as long as she was in Montana, but that still left a coverage issue.

  “Are you going to hire more guides?” Tessa asked, as if she’d read his mind.

  “Thinking about it. There are fine ones available, it’s mostly a logistical question of locating them and doing full background checks. It would be a whole lot easier if Oliver hadn’t broken his ankle.”

  Tessa made a face. “I’m sorry he got hurt, but I’m glad not to be still stuck in the office. Of course, you probably would have fired me by now for messing up. Especially over the coffee fiasco.”

  “Ah. About that...” Clay contemplated the laces on his hiking boots. “Oliver recently found the supply sheet Andrew filled out, with the note about how much coffee we needed. What he wrote was pretty vague. Why didn’t you explain how the mix-up occurred? You couldn’t have thought I’d be angry at my own brother.”

  “Because it was still my fault. I should have double-checked instead of making assumptions. Anyhow, Andrew is your family and I’m temporary. Why make waves for him?”

  Clay was afraid Tessa’s soft heart would get her in serious trouble someday. But at least Andrew had stopped worrying about her being on the ranch once he’d seen the note and understood how the mistake occurred. It was also a reminder that they needed to be more careful when someone new came to work for them. Like most companies, Carson Outdoor Adventures had a shorthand language that could be easily misinterpreted.

  “I think you should finish your sandwich,” Clay said, ignoring the question, which was rhetorical and attached to a thought that was becoming difficult to contemplate—Tessa being temporary. He enjoyed her company too much.

  “I’ve eaten as much as my tummy can hold. Do you want the rest?”

  “Sure.”

  She handed him the sandwich. While he was eating it, several elk came to the water’s edge across the lake. He saw Tessa’s attention was on the animals, her face filled with appreciation.

  “How fast do an elk’s antlers grow?” she asked after he’d finished the sandwich.

  “About an inch a day. A set of antlers can weigh forty pounds by the time they stop growing each year and lose their velvet.”

  “That’s a whole bunch of antler to strut around with.”

  He grinned. “Yeah, I’m grateful humans don’t have them.”

  Tessa put her head back and regarded him. “I don’t think antlers would become you. And imagine the challenge of making a cowboy hat to fit.”

  “True.” They were in shade now, so Clay removed his worn hat and set it to one side. He didn’t wear a cowboy hat for show or to create an atmosphere for guests—they were simply the best hats he’d found for hiking or riding.

  “What were you like as a kid?” Tessa asked.

  “According to the girls I knew back then, an incorrigible flirt. Even in grammar school.”

  He loved her quick smile. “Incorrigible, huh? And I wasn’t sure you even knew how to flirt.”

  “I have my moments. But I decided early on that it wasn’t the tone I wanted to set on my outdoor adventure trips.”

  Tessa yawned and stretched, the fabric of her shirt pulling taut against her breasts. Clay averted his gaze; it didn’t help.

  He was too aware of her.

  It would be best if she found her answers sooner rather than later, and going on a rafting trip might help. He wasn’t blind. Despite what she’d said about believing he wasn’t responsible, she wanted to see him in charge of a whitewater raft, to be assured that nothing had been amiss.

  “Uh, Tessa, there was a cancellation for the raft trip on Monday, if you want to go. It’s the half-day excursion.”

  She straightened. “I’d love to come along. Will you be the captain?”

  “Yes. It’s a pleasant outing, quiet most of the way, with just a few miles of rapids. It isn’t on the same river,” he said flatly, seeing the question in Tessa’s eyes.

  He was torn. While a part of him longed to explain exactly what happened the day her sister drowned, he also wondered if it was self-serving. He wanted Tessa to think well of him, but telling her the unpleasant details would throw a bad light on her twin.

  What difference would Tessa’s good opinion make once she returned home? And yet the thought of her returning to Arizona disturbed him more and more. She pulled him out of himself, stirring parts of his nature that he’d buried or forgotten.

  Tessa was even reminding him of the intense, almost mystical connection he’d felt to the northern Montana wilderness.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  WATER SPLASHED IN Tessa’s face as the raft rushed through the turbulent rapids.

  “Left forward, four strokes,” Clay called from his position in the stern of the raft.

  The instructions were simple and easy to follow for the less-experienced rafters on board. Tessa had captained whitewater rafts in the past and was impressed by Clay’s calm control.

  “All back, three strokes,” he called.

  Excited squeals rose from the others as they entered a narrower channel of the river. Clay read the currents with an uncanny accuracy, calling out commands and using his longer paddle to help maneuver and steer. After another mile, they exited the rapids into a more calmly moving section of the river.

  Tessa had ridden rapids with a much higher degree of difficulty, but none since Renee’s accident, and her heart had pounded through the miles of whitewater. She glanced back and locked gazes for an instant with Clay. It hadn’t been a difficult run, so the strain around his mouth suggested he might also be remembering the accident.

  She looked forward again and flexed her fingers in the rigging gloves he provided for the rowers. They all wore life jackets and helmets, and he’d meticulously gone over the various guidelines for safety. Nothing was wrong. Nothing even close to going wrong had happened, yet she was sick to her stomach.

  Enough was enough. As much as she’d enjoyed rafting, she might avoid it in the future.

  At the landing site down the river they were met by one of the van drivers from Carson Outdoor Adventures. Another crew was there in a truck to collect the
helmets, life jackets and other gear, and to transport the raft. All the work of rafting, except for paddling on the river, was handled by Clay or his employees.

  Back at the ranch, Tessa made a beeline for the bunkhouse, only to hear Clay call her name. She stopped reluctantly and turned around. The barbecue wouldn’t start for another hour and a half and she wasn’t hungry, regardless.

  “Are you all right?” Clay asked.

  “I’m fine. I just didn’t...I didn’t expect the trip to bother me this way,” she admitted. “I never went rafting with Renee, but I guess it’s one of the ‘firsts’ after losing someone, like the first Thanksgiving and Christmas. Firsts aren’t easy. Our birthday was the worst. I’m not going to celebrate birthdays any longer. I don’t think they’ll ever get better.”

  He lifted a hand as if to touch her, then let it drop. “What can I do to help?”

  She was grateful he didn’t offer platitudes or tell her not to feel bad. Some people did that out of the best of intentions.

  “I’m just going to take a long shower and...” Tessa’s voice trailed because she didn’t have any idea of what would help.

  “How about a ride?” Clay suggested. “You’re welcome to take Coal Dust.”

  Tessa wanted to throw her arms around his neck and hug him, but it wasn’t the right place for that kind of display. “Yeah, I’d like that. But I can’t go alone. Except for our ride the other day, I don’t know the horse trails around here.”

  His smile washed over her. “Then get your shower and I’ll meet you—”

  “In an hour,” she said, finishing for him.

  Tessa rushed to the bunkhouse. She didn’t want to think about why Clay had known the right thing to make her feel better, or why it meant so much to her.

  Maybe it meant a lot, simply because he’d cared enough to suggest something.

  * * *

  LATER THAT EVENING Andrew knocked on the Mahoneys’ front door.

  Evelyn Mahoney answered, holding out her arms to Derry. “Come in, Andrew, it’s lovely to see you again so soon.”

  “Auntie Eve.” Derry lunged from his father’s arms into hers with his usual enthusiasm.

  She laughed and hugged him close.

  Andrew spotted the grandmotherly light in her eyes. He understood what Jillian was worried about, but he wasn’t quite as concerned. Derry could benefit from another grandmother and Evelyn was terrific. Besides, he and Derry would always be in this area and friendly with the Mahoneys.

  “It was nice of you to ask us to dinner again,” he said, though he wondered if he should have accepted the invitation. Clay and Tessa had gone on a rafting trip together that afternoon and he’d hoped to talk to his brother about it afterward. But then Clay had left almost immediately for a horseback ride. With Tessa.

  Andrew wasn’t sure what it meant. She was a good person and she loved the outdoors, but he didn’t know what would happen if his brother developed feelings for her.

  “We always enjoy having you and Derry,” Evelyn said. “Besides, I hoped to talk more about the party.”

  “Mom, you know it’s just pretend,” Jillian protested as she came into the living room and accepted a hug from Derry.

  This was one of her official days off from Carson Outdoor Adventures, not that she took many of them during the summer. She went back and forth between the Carson Double C and the Mahoney Horse Ranch, setting her own hours and doing whatever was needed at both facilities.

  “Pretend engagement, real party,” Evelyn said firmly. “We’re going to have fun. The doctor told us today that your dad will have the cast off his leg by then, though he won’t be able to dance yet. Roger, don’t forget what Dr. Tanaka said today, no dancing,” she told her husband.

  He returned her smile. “That’ll be hard. We met at a barn dance.”

  “I remember. You were doing a do-si-do with Donna Greyson.”

  The two shared a private smile. Like Andrew’s parents, they were a devoted couple. He admired them, but was embarrassed that even though he had grown up with great examples of marriage to follow, he’d made such terrible decisions with Mallory.

  How could he have seen anything in her when he had a woman like Jillian, right in front of him?

  The thought brought Andrew up short.

  Jillian was remarkable.

  She was beautiful, sensitive, talented and absolutely the most wonderful woman in the world. But was there any chance she cared about him in the same way?

  Care?

  Andrew kicked himself. Even now he was being cautious about his emotions. He didn’t just “care” about Jillian as a friend or a woman—he loved and adored her. How could he have been blind all this time?

  “What’s wrong? Your face reminds me of someone who just got run over by a team of horses,” Jillian whispered in his ear.

  “Uh, well, I’m thinking, that’s all.”

  She grinned. “Be careful, thinking is uncharted territory for you.”

  “Very funny. Obviously you still haven’t forgiven me for getting the ring. Though I really don’t understand why it was such a terrible crime. And it isn’t like you to stay upset.”

  She held her left hand in the air and light glinted from the rubies and diamond in the setting. “I’m upset because you didn’t talk to me before you went shopping, even after I said no.”

  “It wasn’t all your decision. I’m not one of your wranglers or one of your dad’s employees,” Andrew reminded her.

  Jillian blinked. “I didn’t mean it that way.”

  He knew she hadn’t, but he thought there was an underlying message in her objections, most likely because she didn’t want things to change between them. He’d worried about the same thing, too. Over the years their friendship had been a constant, something they could both count on.

  If he told her how he felt, she’d probably claim he was being swept away by the moment. But he was sure his feelings were real. It certainly explained his odd emotions when she’d gotten engaged to someone else and his reaction to seeing her put on his ring...and the way he’d felt when they had kissed.

  On top of that came another thought—why would Jillian fall in love with him? He’d shown poor judgment by dating Mallory in the first place. His son was an unexpected gift from the disaster, but his ex-wife was a problem, and could continue to be one for the rest of Derry’s childhood.

  Then he remembered what Jillian had told him a few weeks ago. You can’t keep blaming yourself for what happened... We all make mistakes—you have to stop beating yourself up.

  Perhaps it was time to let go of the guilt and self-blame. A lot of people married badly; it didn’t make him a man she couldn’t or shouldn’t love.

  Andrew focused on the elder Mahoneys, who were talking to Derry with the fond attention of grandparents. Roger Mahoney sat in a narrow companion wheelchair, his broken leg propped on a soft ottoman—using crutches hadn’t been practical with his broken ribs and arm.

  “How are you tonight, sir?” Andrew asked, going over to sit on the couch next to the wheelchair. He ruffled his son’s hair.

  “Better every day. I’m no spring chicken any longer, so it was a relief to have the doctor say my bones are fusing well. But getting good news didn’t stop the itching.” Roger picked up a pencil and was easing it under the edge of the plaster on his leg, when his wife reached over and took it from him.

  “You aren’t supposed to be sticking things inside the cast,” she scolded. “Do what Dr. Tanaka said—tap over the area where it’s itchy, or we can try blowing air underneath the plaster with a hair dryer.”

  Andrew remembered the one time he’d worn a cast. The desire to scratch had been the most frustrating part of the experience, even more difficult to take than the break itself. The severe pain hadn’t lasted long, but the itching had seemed to last forever.

  “Yo
u’ve been lucky, Dad,” Jillian told him.

  “Lucky how?” Roger grumbled, determinedly slapping the plaster. From his expression, it wasn’t helping the underlying itchiness.

  “Because we’ve mostly had cool days. Imagine how much worse it would be in hot weather.”

  Roger smiled at her. “That’s my daughter, trying to see the bright side of things.”

  Andrew agreed, reminded of the evening he’d learned about Mallory showing up at the Carson Outdoor Adventures office. Jillian had said his ex might not have returned for negative reasons. That was one of Jillian’s amazing qualities—even after losing her fiancé in a senseless crime, she wasn’t a pessimist. She had her downhearted moments, the same as everyone, but they didn’t last.

  The meal was delicious, with Evelyn talking about the desserts she was going to bake for the upcoming Fourth of July party. Aunt Emma and Uncle Lee hadn’t been able to come for the pot roast and apple dumplings the other evening, but the two couples were conferring over the phone. His mom was getting involved, as well, planning to make vast amounts of her strawberry shortbread cake—always a favorite—and lemon chiffon trifle. Uncle Lee was complaining that they weren’t leaving anything for him to do except make the ice cream.

  After eating, they sat on the deck playing a game with Derry. Game nights with their hosts had been a tradition when Andrew and his family were renting the guesthouse. Andrew had never missed one of the old-fashioned get-togethers, though when Clay had gotten old enough, he’d usually gone off on his own, exploring.

  “What’s on your mind?” Jillian asked when they were doing the dishes later. “You’ve had a weird expression all evening.”