Montana Wrangler

by Charlotte Carter

  She looked up and her breath caught. Off to the side of the road in the shade of a stand of pine trees stood two white-tail does and their fawns, who couldn’t be more than a few weeks old. They still had their spots like two young Bambi look-alikes. The does eyed Paige suspiciously then moved farther into the woods with their precious babies.

  Their beauty and dignity, their natural mothering instincts, touched something in Paige’s heart. Could she learn to be that good a mother for Bryan?

  She could only pray she would, in time, learn how to give him all the love he needed.

  As she approached the corral, she saw Jay saddling a horse.

  He tipped his hat to her. “So you saw Bryan to the school bus?”

  “Not exactly.”

  He quirked his lips in what had to be an I-told-you-so grin. “He wasn’t too pleased to have his buddies see you playing mama?”

  “Something like that.” She cringed, realizing he’d seen her trailing after Bryan like a stray dog.

  “Kids can be sort of touchy about adults hanging around them,” he said.

  Paige should have known that. But with her parents, she’d always done exactly what they had asked of her. If they came to a performance of the sixth grade class, she was thrilled. And that only happened if the hardware store could close early. She’d longed for her parents’ attention almost as much as Krissy had. The only way Paige could gain their praise was to excel at the hardware store.

  A black-and-white dog with floppy ears trotted over to greet Paige. Noticing the dog was a bit plump, she knelt to pet him.

  “Oh, aren’t you a good boy.” His tail wagged enthusiastically. “What’s his name?”

  “That’s Archie,” Jay said. “He’s actually a she. Bryan sort of misnamed her, but it stuck anyway. She keeps the horses company, the coyotes away and lets us know if there’s a bear around.”

  She popped to her feet. “There are bears here?”

  “Not right now. If there were, Archie would be barking her head off.”

  Taking a quick look up the hillside, Paige felt only marginally reassured by Jay’s comment.

  “Archie’s also pregnant,” Jay said.

  “Really? I did think he...she was getting plenty to eat.” She’d never owned a dog. Too much trouble, her mother had insisted. She imagined seeing newborn puppies would be quite a treat.

  She edged closer to the corral, Jay and his horse, feeling safe with the sturdy fence between her and the animal. The way the horse watched her with those big brown eyes unsettled her. When he raised his head and nodded twice, she wondered what he was thinking and how far away she should stand from those big teeth of his.

  “What kind of a horse is that?” She had to admit his chestnut coat was the reddish-brown shade of hair color many women spent big bucks to achieve.

  “A quarter horse.” Jay flipped the stirrup up onto the saddle and reached for the cinch. “Best all-around riding horse there is.” Pride lifted his words.

  “Does he have a name?”

  “Thunder Boy.”

  “That sounds ominous.”

  Resting his arm across the saddle, Jay chuckled. “He’s harmless. The way he’s nodding at you means he wants you to say hello and pat his nose.”

  She took a step back. “That’s okay. No need for introductions.”

  His smile recast itself into a scowl. “Paige, if you want to get to know Bryan better, you’re going to have to make friends with horses. They aren’t going to hurt you.”

  She folded her arms across her chest. “One of them killed my sister.”

  “Krissy did that to herself.”

  If Jay’s comment was meant to make her feel more comfortable around Thunder Boy, or any other horse, it wasn’t working.

  He patted the horse’s neck, pulled something from his shirt pocket and stepped up to the fence. “Here.” He held out his hand. “Thunder really likes apples. Why don’t you feed him a piece?”

  Paige gaped at the quartered apple. “I don’t think so.”

  As agilely as a gymnast, Jay boosted himself over the corral and landed beside Paige. “We’ll feed him together. Come on.” Taking her hand, he opened her fingers and placed the apple on her palm. “Thunder will be your friend forever. I promise.”

  Ripples of panic swam through her midsection. “No, really.”

  Despite her refusal, he put her open hand on his palm. His warmth, the feel of his wide callused hand beneath hers, seemed to transmit a dose of the courage she’d always lacked. The sensation spread up her arm, blocking out her fears and her good sense.

  Thunder bent his head over the top railing toward her hand.

  “Steady now,” Jay crooned, either to Thunder or Paige, she wasn’t sure which.

  Thunder’s big lips parted, revealing huge teeth. Paige almost bolted. But the horse kissed her palm with those lips in the gentlest of touches, testing the apple, then lifting it into his mouth.

  Paige blinked, studied her palm, which was still intact and looked small in Jay’s much larger hand. She met his blue-green gaze. “His lips are so soft.”

  Jay’s mouth tilted at the corners. “Soft as...” His thumb caressed her palm. “As soft as your hand.” He’d lowered his voice to a deep, masculine timbre that rolled through his broad chest.

  Still gazing into his eyes, she slowly withdrew her hand.

  “I’ve got another piece of apple if you want to try it again,” he said, his voice tempting her.

  “I, um, I have to call my boss.” As if Jay were a magnet holding her close, it took all of Paige’s mental concentration to move away from him.

  “Another time, then.” He touched the brim of his cowboy hat.

  “Yes. Maybe. We’ll see.” Breathless, her heart racing, she hurried toward the main house. It had to be the altitude that made her feel off-kilter. The cool, crisp mountain air. Clearly, as soon as possible, she needed to return to Seattle and sea level where she’d be able to catch her breath again.

  * * *

  Thunder Boy nudged Jay’s shoulder looking for another treat. He rubbed the horse’s velvety nose.

  “Okay, boy, you earned it.” Chuckling a bit, Jay palmed his last piece of apple. “Thanks for not biting her.”

  Thunder lipped the apple into his mouth and nodded his appreciation.

  Jay had met few people who were as afraid of horses as Paige Barclay was. Even fewer who had softer hands or who smelled so sweet. Like a bunch of honeysuckle growing alongside the trail. Impossible not to miss the perfume after you’d ridden on by.

  He’d felt her tremble when he had taken her hand. Was that from fear? Or from something else?

  He climbed back over the fence and untied Thunder’s reins. His job was to check out the trail to Arrowhead Cove, see if it was clear of winter debris, fallen trees or washed-out areas. He wasn’t supposed to lollygag around thinking about a woman with soft hands and a fear of horses.

  It would be better if he could come up with a way to make her realize she wasn’t a suitable guardian for a twelve-year-old boy who loved horses.

  Not suitable for Jay, either. Every inch of Paige Barclay shouted she wanted to return to the city. She belonged there.

  Mounting, he turned Thunder toward the corral gate.

  As he walked his horse past the big house, he spied Paige’s footprints in the soft ground leading up onto the front porch.

  That woman really ought to get down to the general store and buy a pair of boots suitable for walking around the grounds and stable at Bear Lake Outfitters. Those high heels she wore might look fine on her and were okay for traipsing around on plush carpet in a fancy hotel, but not out here on the ranch.

  But mountain country was different. She needed to learn that. Or go back home.

  *
* *

  She’d tracked mud clear across the front room.

  Leaning against a wall, she took off her heels and stood in her stocking feet. Mud caked her shoes, ruining them.

  At the very least she’d have to start using the mudroom. And find some more appropriate shoes—and clothes—for whatever length of time she’d be here at Bear Lake.

  She walked down the hallway to Krissy’s room. Guilt and regret, mixed with a trace of anger, assailed Paige as she reached the closed-off bedroom. Sisters should be close. Best friends. Someone with whom to share hopes and dreams.

  That had never been the case between Paige and her sister.

  Had it been Paige’s fault? Or Krissy’s? Or both to some degree?

  Perhaps it was the five-year difference in age that had made it so difficult for them to communicate.

  Taking a deep breath, Paige opened the bedroom door. She imagined Krissy was there, playing a game of hide-and-seek as she’d loved to do as a child. Any moment she’d jump out trying to frighten Paige.

  The fact that wasn’t going to happen ever again stoked an ache in Paige’s chest that felt like a red-hot poker.

  She drew a painful breath and looked around. The room shouted that a determined tomboy lived here. One who was far from being neat and tidy.

  A black-and-white striped quilt had been carelessly thrown across the double bed. Photos of horses, cowboys and western scenes covered the walls. Clothes had been tossed unmindfully on a maple rocking chair; shoes and boots were left where they had fallen.

  Paige shuddered, comparing her pristine and orderly condo where she rarely left anything out of place with her sister’s living space. One thing was clear, they would have driven each other crazy if they had been roommates.

  A few years ago when Paige had been visiting, she and her sister had gone shopping together in Missoula, the largest town around, two hours south of Bear Lake. Their taste in clothes was so opposite, the trip was pretty much a disaster.

  Feeling like she was snooping, Paige opened the walk-in closet door. Granted she and her sister were built differently—Krissy with a far more feminine figure than Paige’s almost nonexistent curves. Still, there might be a pair of jeans that would fit and maybe boots.

  The thought of wearing her sister’s clothes made Paige feel ghoulish, but she wasn’t going to be here long. Her finances were such that she didn’t want to waste a lot of money buying new clothes she’d probably never wear after she returned to Seattle.

  The closet wasn’t any better organized than the room. Clothes were hung in random order, jeans next to silk blouses, sundresses stuck in wherever there was room. The closet floor was a jumble of shoes and boots and fallen garments.

  Kneeling, she pawed through the pile of shoes. She found one red tennis shoe, only a half size bigger than Paige wore. Now, if she could only find the matching one.

  When she uncovered that, she dug in to find a pair of boots that might work for her. After that she searched for jeans. The ones she tried on were a bit baggy, but they would do for the next few days.

  Taking a deep breath, she looked around Krissy’s room. The thought of clearing out and disposing of all of her sister’s things knotted in her stomach. She’d have to talk to Grandpa. And Bryan, she realized. It might be better to leave things as they were until the shock of losing Krissy had faded.

  Surely there was no rush, and for Bryan’s sake, Paige didn’t want to erase the memory of his mother.

  Returning to her room, Paige got the paperwork together that she needed to file for Bryan’s guardianship.

  Then she called her boss. As she expected, Mr. Armstrong was not thrilled with the news that her return to Seattle would be delayed.

  * * *

  After the eighty-mile round trip to Kalispell, plus an hour dealing with the court clerk and filing her request to be Bryan’s guardian, Paige was tired and hungry.

  As she drove by the barn, through the wide open door she noticed a young man and Grandpa inside. Parking in front of the house, she grabbed Krissy’s red tennis shoes, slipped them on and got out of the car. She left her high-heel pumps on the front seat.

  The smell of hay and animals struck her as she walked into the barn. Several bales of hay were stacked by the open door. Nathan, a lanky twenty-something, hefted a bale and carried it inside.

  Sitting to the side near the tack room, Grandpa was working on a saddle. She caught the scent of ammonia and saddle soap.

  “Hi, Grandpa. How are you feeling?”

  He glanced up at her. “I’m fine, child. How’d your trip to Kalispell go?”

  “All right, I guess.”

  “Kalispell is too citified for me.” Grandpa went back to rubbing the leather saddle. “All those people and cars make me nervous.”

  She laughed. “I guess you won’t be coming to visit me and Bryan in Seattle then.”

  “Nope. Don’t imagine so.”

  She suppressed a sudden pang of dismay. Driving to Seattle on his own would be too far, too hard, for Grandpa.

  He nodded. “It’ll be quiet around here with both him and Krissy gone, that’s for sure.”

  She swallowed hard. She hadn’t given any thought to how much Grandpa would miss Krissy and Bryan. He’d seemed so supportive of her becoming Bryan’s guardian. She’d wanted to please him. Maybe the reality had finally sunk in.

  “Did you have any lunch, Grandpa?”

  “Yep. Jay made us a couple sandwiches.”

  Grateful that Jay had looked out for Grandpa, she said, “I didn’t take time to eat on the way home, so I’m going to find something for myself.”

  “I could use a glass of iced tea, if you’ve got the time,” Grandpa said.

  “Sure. I’ll be back in a minute with a pitcherful. Nathan might want some, too.”

  She walked out of the barn. Momentarily blinded by the bright sun, she bumped smack into the solid wall of Jay’s chest.

  “Hey, nice shoes,” he said, steadying her.

  Heat rushed to her cheeks. Why in the world did he always show up out of nowhere? And why did she react with a strange quivering sensation deep inside?

  She regained her footing and her mental equilibrium, and took a step away from him. “The shoes were Krissy’s. They’re a half size too big, but I had to do something.”

  “Smart girl! Better than breaking your neck.” He thumbed his hat back. “So what happened in Kalispell?”

  “They gave me a court date for the hearing about Bryan.”

  His eyes narrowed. “When?”

  She bristled at his sharp-edged tone. “Unfortunately, the soonest date they could give me is the end of next week. I think I’ll go back to Seattle this Thursday. I’ll be there for the medical conference at the hotel over the weekend, which will please my boss. I’ll also be able to start setting things up for Bryan.”

  “So you’ll have what, four days this week to get to know him? Then you’ll duck out and reappear just in time to drag him back to Seattle with you?”

  “You were the one who said he shouldn’t miss the last two weeks of school.” She pointed her chin at him. “Now you get your way and you’re angry about it. Why’s that?”

  His blue-green eyes darkened to almost black. His jaw muscle jumped and his Adam’s apple bounced.

  “If you’re going to have any kind of a relationship with that boy, you’d better spend every minute you can with him before you go off to Seattle.”

  “Fine. I’d be happy to. But just how am I going to do that when he spends all of his time in the barn or stables or off somewhere on his horse?”

  “Then I guess you’re going to have to get up close and personal with his horse.” He squared his hat, gave her another hard look and strode past her into the barn.

  She fumed. Had he f
orgotten her fear of horses? Or had he said that to point out what a terrible guardian she’d be for Bryan?

  Well, forget that, Mr. High-and-Mighty. It might take some time and effort, but she and Bryan would be fine.

  * * *

  Jay snatched up a bridle that needed to be cleaned, grabbed a sponge and dipped it in the ammonia-laced water. That fool woman had no right to take Bryan away. He belonged here at Bear Lake Outfitters, not in some dinky condo in Seattle.

  “You act like a man with a problem,” Grandpa Henry said.

  Jay scrubbed the bridle to get rid of accumulated dirt and grime, a chore that needed doing once a week to all the tack to keep it in good shape.

  “How come you’re okay with Bryan moving to Seattle?” he asked.

  Henry worked the saddle soap into the leather in slow, patient circles. “It’s what Krissy thought was right. Paige was her sister. Family counts.”

  “Yeah, but you’re his great-grandfather. You’re family.” Jay wasn’t. Never could be. “He could’ve stayed here. Together we could’ve looked after him.”

  “Guess when Krissy and me were talkin’, it didn’t occur to either of us that she’d actually die before I did. Before the boy was grown. That sure didn’t seem real to me. Still doesn’t.”

  “If you had it to do over, would you have told her to pick Paige for Bryan’s guardian?”

  Setting his cleaning rag aside, Henry hefted the saddle, carried it into the tack room and set it in its floor stand.

  “I didn’t tell her. She decided. Don’t much matter now, does it? What’s done is done.”

  Jay didn’t particularly like that answer, but he didn’t know what else he could do.

  A few minutes later, Paige came sauntering into the barn carrying a tray with a pitcher of iced tea and three glasses.

  Jay gaped at her. She was wearing jeans that were belted, emphasizing her slender waist and the slight swell of her hips. On her feet she wore scuffed cowboy boots. She might be a city girl, but in that outfit she looked like she belonged right here in Montana high country.