Montana Cowboy Romance (Wyatt Brothers of Montana Book 1)

by Jane Porter

  “I don’t know. I guess that’s what we have to figure out.”

  At Bramble House he walked her to the front door. “I hate leaving you.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “You look beautiful.”

  Her cheeks felt hot. She ducked her head, suddenly shy. “Thank you.”

  “I’ll come back for dinner.”

  “Or just coffee. Make it easy on yourself.”

  *

  Joe returned that evening, taking her to Grey’s Saloon where a live band was performing. It was fairly crowded but they found two available stools at one end of the bar and ate dinner sitting at the bar, listening to music.

  Joe looked particularly handsome in his blue denim shirt and crisp dark blue Wranglers, the fabric of his shirt taut over his muscular biceps. Sophie glanced at his profile. He was so incredibly good-looking. He was truly a catch. And yet he’d stopped putting himself out there. He’d just given up on dating.

  He turned his head and caught her studying him, and he lifted a brow. “Regrets already, Mrs. Wyatt?”

  “No, Mr. Wyatt, just thinking you’re a pretty hot cowboy, and a very hard-working cowboy. There was no reason for you to place an ad for a wife. Ladies probably love you.”

  “You’ve seen where the ranch is—it’s not all that accessible. The terrain is rugged. I’m often gone all day, maybe even all night, and it’s not convenient to head into town to meet a girl for drinks.” He caught her expression and shook his head. “You’re different. By the time you arrived in Marietta, we’d already gone through the preliminary stuff, and we’d cut to the chase. We knew what we wanted. Which is why the ad served its purpose. It weeded out the women that wouldn’t be happy on the ranch. It weeded out women who couldn’t handle a long winter without access to town.”

  “Is it really that bad in winter?”

  “It can be, yes. And this past winter was particularly hard. We had three weeks where we couldn’t go anywhere, we were completely snowed in, and it was all we could do to take care of our livestock.”

  “I’d think most Montana women would know that, and would be prepared for harsh winters,” Sophie said.

  “There’s a big difference between winter in Marietta, and winter on our ranch. My former girlfriend—”

  “The one your mom liked so much?”

  He nodded. “She couldn’t handle the remoteness of the ranch. It’s essentially why we didn’t work. We loved each other, but she needed town, and her sisters, more than she needed me, so…” His broad shoulders shifted. “I don’t blame her, either. I respect her for being honest. Far better we end things when we did, than try to make it work, only for it to end in divorce.”

  “You scare me a little bit with your description of winters. It’s called Paradise Valley, Joe.”

  “Yeah, well it’s not really much like paradise six months of the year.” Then he leaned forward and kissed her, the kind of kiss that made the hair rise on her nape and her body prickle with awareness. “I can’t wait to have you at the ranch,” he said, lifting his head, “but I agree with you. I think we should give it a week or two. See how things go and reevaluate.”

  “Sounds good,” she said. Sophie took a sip of her beer and then set the bottle down. “But if I’m going to be in town for another couple of weeks, I need something to do. I can’t just sit around all day and wait for my ninety minutes with you at night, Joe—even though they’re my favorite ninety minutes of the day.” She gave a pat to his arm, and then allowed her hand to linger, savoring the hard carved shape of his bicep and tricep. “This afternoon, I went online and looked at jobs in the area and there are plenty of businesses looking for help.”

  He shifted on his barstool, not happy. “You don’t need to work. You’re my wife now. I can take care of your bills.”

  “Joe, that’s not happening. I’ve been financially independent since I graduated from college nine years ago. I take care of my own bills.”

  “You weren’t supposed to be paying for a hotel room, either, and yet here you are—”

  “I don’t mind. I’m not complaining. I’m just saying I think it’d be good for me to have a job, and have a purpose. It’ll help time pass more quickly, and I’ll feel better about myself.”

  He looked away, jaw hard. “I like it when you’re at the ranch. You make it feel… different.”

  “Different how?” she asked, curious.

  “Brighter, lighter, better.” He looked at her, managed a crooked smile. “I probably sound needy and emotional.”

  She laughed out loud. “No, you don’t. Saying you enjoy my company isn’t pathetic, either. It’s a nice thing, and makes me feel wanted.”

  “You’re wanted,” he said gruffly. “I look forward to having you back.”

  “And I will be, once your mom isn’t so resistant to having me there.”

  “This is so not easy. Managing my mom isn’t easy—” He broke off, shook his head. “I don’t want to be disloyal, but she wasn’t well when I was younger and I got mad at her for being sick. I was pretty hard on her for a number of years and it wasn’t fair. She was doing the best she could, but I pushed her away and it’s only in the last five years, since I’ve come home, that we’ve grown closer.”

  “I understand.”

  He looked at her, blue eyes cool and clear. “Just know I’m aware this is hard, and I’m aware it’s extra hard for you.”

  “So, what do you suggest, Joe? I’m not being sarcastic. I’m completely sincere. I’ll do whatever you think is best. If you think I should move in, I’ll do it. If you think we should wait, I’ll stay in town. All I know is that I don’t want my mother-in-law hating me, so let me look for a job, and we’ll just keep seeing each other in the evening and on weekends.”

  “What kind of job will you look for?”

  “Ideally, something in my field. Import-export.”

  “Montana’s top exports are cigarettes, coal, copper, silicon, nothing remotely like your business in California.”

  “Exports are exports.”

  “But these export fields are dominated by men.”

  “I’m familiar with the old boys’ club. It’s part of every business.”

  “You won’t be welcomed with open arms.”

  “Huh. That seems to be a pattern around here.” She glanced away, battling her temper. Joe didn’t seem to realize that he wasn’t helping. He wasn’t being supportive in any way. “Would you rather I just get my nails done and take an exercise class every day?”

  “Is that what you’d like to do?”

  “No. I like working. I’m really good at what I do.”

  “Then why did you give it up to move here?”

  “Because I thought I could help with your business. I thought I could contribute to your family business. I come from a family business, and spent the past five years working for a family business so I thought I’d be needed, and wanted—”

  “You are wanted,” he interrupted gruffly.

  “But not needed,” she added in a low voice.

  “Not yet, no, but that will change. I promise.”

  She studied his expression, but he looked serious, earnest. “I’ll look for a temporary position then. I’m capable of doing just about anything in an office, but would be happy to just be busy.”

  “Would you want a car? Mom’s is just sitting there. She doesn’t drive anymore.”

  Sophie arched a brow. “And you think she’d go for that?”

  “She might. We’d discussed selling it last November. Leave it to me.”

  *

  Joe called her late the next morning to check in. He’d had a sleepless night and he woke up wishing Sophie was there with him. He thought of her all the time, and even when he didn’t want to think of her, he could see her face, and the shape of her lips, and the long glossy length of her hair spilling over her shoulder.

  He wanted to wake up and see her at breakfast, smiling at him over her cup of coffee. He wanted to wa
lk with her, and take her out on the ranch and show her his favorite places. He just wanted her at the house, settled, so that they could move forward as a married couple.

  Same house, same room, same bed.

  His body ached and his chest tightened as it struck him that he missed his wife.

  “I’ve begun looking for a car for you,” he said. “I wanted some ideas if Mom’s car isn’t an option.”

  “I don’t think you should talk to your mom about her car. It’s her car, Joe.”

  “She doesn’t drive it.”

  “But she won’t want to sell it to me.”

  “We’ll see.”

  “Do we have a price range?” she asked, still sounding troubled.

  “Ten to twenty thousand,” he answered, “and don’t worry. Everything will work out. I promise.”

  “Okay.” She hesitated. “I have news.”

  “Good news?”

  “I think so.”

  He smiled. “Then tell me.”

  “I’ve got a job! Thirty hours a week to start. Additional hours possible if it’s a good fit.”

  “Doing what? Where?”

  “Front desk and light bookkeeping. It’s for a hair salon, just a short walk from Bramble House on the way to Main Street. Yesterday, I saw a sign in the window that they were looking for someone to manage their front desk and so I stopped in today and after interviewing with the owner, she offered the job.”

  “Do you remember the name of the salon?”

  “Um… no. Darn it. I can look it up, but it’s in a pink house on the corner, if that helps.”

  Joe closed his eyes. That was all he needed to know. There was only one pink house, or one pink hair salon, in all of Crawford County, and that pink house was the Wright Salon, and belonged to Charity’s younger sister, Amanda. At one point he’d spent a lot of time with Amanda because Charity and her sister were inseparable.

  “Do you know it?” Sophie said, sounding uncertain.

  “I do.”

  “You’re not happy I’m going to be working there? It’s not my normal industry but I thought it’d be a good way to meet people in Marietta—”

  “That’s great. I’m happy for you.”

  “The owner, Amanda, is really nice, and she needs me. I think they’ve been without a receptionist for over a week. It was bedlam when I arrived, and I get the job by just jumping in, answering the phone, and helping look up appointments.”

  “Good for you.”

  “I can also get my hair done for free. Every month I get to have a free service, whether it’s my hair or a spa service.”

  Joe frowned, picturing her long glossy dark hair. He loved her hair. “What would you do to your hair? It’s perfect.”

  “It’s really long. I was thinking I should get a cut that’s a little more stylish—”

  “Don’t,” he interrupted. “At least, don’t cut it, not anytime soon. You’ve made so many changes recently, I don’t want you to do something impulsive and then regret it.”

  “You mean, like move to Montana? Agree to marry a stranger?”

  He grimaced. “Yeah something like that.”

  “Well, I’m having fun so far, and I think it’s a smart move to have me in town. I’m having fun exploring Marietta.”

  “Well, we’ll have to get you back up here so you can pick up the car. Or maybe Granddad can follow me down, and then take me back up.”

  “Or, I can take you back up and drop you off. Maybe after we have a date night.”

  “Speaking of, should I stay over there one night? Our two-hour dates aren’t that satisfying.”

  She didn’t answer for a long time. “You could,” she said, hesitantly.

  “You’re not ready,” he said bluntly.

  “Not quite yet,” she answered apologetically. “But soon, though.”

  “Understood.” But he was disappointed. He seemed to need—and want—her far more than she needed and wanted him. But at the same time, he’d been single for years. She’d only recently come out of a serious relationship.

  “I’m going to train at the salon this afternoon,” she said, filling the awkward silence, “and then if you don’t mind, I was hoping to work tonight. The salon stays open later on Thursday nights. But if you don’t want me to—”

  “No, do that. That’s smart to just jump in. Do you know your hours yet?”

  “Tuesday through Saturday right now, ten to six. The salon is closed Sundays and Mondays, although Amanda will come in for certain clients. I guess she does a lot of weddings.”

  “Hope you have a good day. Call me when you’re off tonight. I’ll look forward to hearing all about it.”

  “You have a good day, too. Say hi to your mom and grandfather for me.”

  “Will do.”

  *

  For Sophie, the day passed so quickly. She couldn’t even believe she’d been at the salon seven hours by the time she helped Amanda close up the shop. It had been a fun day, too, fast-paced and filled with really nice people.

  Amanda had shown her how to work the computer and use the salon software to check clients in, and book appointments, and look up individual stylist rates. Sophie took dozens of notes, typing them into her phone, so she’d have a cheat sheet to help her remember passwords, and how to do things, including how to close at night.

  “You’re a fast learner, Sophie,” Amanda said to her as they turned out the lights together, and set the security alarm before stepping out the front door. “I’m impressed.”

  The wind was cold and grabbing at their coats. Sophie bundled her arms over her chest, trying not to shiver. “I really enjoyed today. It’s fun to work with so many young women. My last job was mostly men, and mostly older men. This is a breath of fresh air.”

  “Well, you’re a breath of fresh air. You have such a great attitude,” Amanda said, locking the dead bolt and slipping the keys into her pocket. “What brought you to Marietta?”

  Sophie felt a little uncomfortable. She wasn’t sure how to explain it to others, much less her boss of seven hours. “I met someone online and it got serious and so here I am.”

  “You moved here for a guy?”

  “Yes.”

  “He must be pretty special.”

  Sophie grinned. “I think so.”

  Amanda’s winged brows arched higher. “So it’s serious?”

  “Yes.”

  “How serious?”

  Sophie hated not being totally truthful, but how could she tell the truth? She and Joe had agreed to keep their secret until the time was right to share with others. “We’re getting married… soon.”

  Amanda’s eyes widened. “How long have you known each other?”

  “A couple months.”

  “And you’re really getting married?”

  “It’s the plan.”

  “But you just met him.” Amanda’s brow creased. “Why get married so soon? There’s no need to rush—” She broke off, expression concerned. “You don’t need to get married? You’re not pregnant are you?”

  “No. Not pregnant. Haven’t even had sex.” Sophie blushed. “We’re taking the… physical… stuff slow.”

  “He’s either a saint, or he’s not into women,” Amanda said as they headed to the curb.

  Sophie’s cheeks felt so hot they had to be bright pink. “We just want to make sure we’re in this for the right reasons.”

  “So, who is this amazing guy?”

  “I don’t know if you’d known him. He’s not really social.”

  “What does he do?”

  “He’s a rancher. His property overlooks Pray in Paradise Valley.”

  Amanda froze on the sidewalk. “Are you talking about one of the Wyatts?”

  “Yes. Joe.” Sophie’s heart did a painful little jump. “Do you know him?”

  Amanda hesitated, a strange expression on her face. “Very well. He used to date my sister, Charity. They were together a long time.”

  Sophie blinked, caught off gua
rd. “Did she read romances?”

  “Why?”

  “Joe said his last girlfriend got along really well with his mom. They’d pass books back and forth and watch American Idol—”

  “That’s Charity.”

  Sophie felt like she’d swallowed broken glass. Her stomach hurt. Her heart hurt. “Mrs. Wyatt really liked her.”

  “Joe and Charity were together a long time. My sister loved him. He was her first love, and it took her a long time to get over him. Fortunately, she’s found her right person and is happily married, but there was a period there we weren’t sure she would be able to move on.”

  Sophie was still trying to take it all in. “Why did they break up?”

  “I think the ranch was a big issue for her. She struggled with the idea of being so far away from town and me. We’ve always been really close and she couldn’t imagine not being able to see me often, because in winter, you can’t get into town all the time, not from their property.”

  “It’s only a thirty-minute drive.”

  “In good weather. Bad weather… blizzards…” Amanda’s voice trailed off, and she was silent a moment before adding, “But Joe adored her. He treated her like a queen. He would have done anything for her… anything but give up the ranch. It’s his legacy.”

  “The ranch has been in his family a long time,” Sophie said.

  “Seventy, eighty years. Something like that.”

  “Joe took it hard when they broke up?”

  “Very hard, but Charity struggled, too. For years, Charity compared every guy she dated to Joe, and none were good enough. But then she met Quinn and she could finally get over Joe Wyatt.”

  Sophie pictured her Joe—tall, broad shouldered, handsome, with those cool blue eyes—and she wondered if he’d smiled more when he was younger. Had he smiled more when he’d been with Charity? Or had he always been serious? “What’s Charity like?” Sophie asked, suddenly feeling insecure.

  “She’s lovely. Sweet, kind. She’s the nurturer in the family.”

  Sophie didn’t think anyone would ever describe her as sweet, kind, or a nurturer. If anything, she’d been told to not be too ambitious, not too assertive. She’d been told more than once to tone it down, hold back, don’t come on quite so strong. Men don’t want to feel like they’re in competition with a woman. It’s okay to lean on them. It’s okay to make him feel like the man, Mom would say.