by Liz Isaacson
“Did you get a new phone?” He nodded to the bag.
She glanced at it and then held it up. “Oh, yeah. Mine shattered this morning. That’s why I didn’t get your call, or your message, or call you back. I didn’t actually know you’d called.” She came up the steps toward him, all the way into his arms, pressing closer and closer. “It’s so good to see you.”
He leaned down to claim her waiting mouth, everything inside him softening with her touch. He kissed her until she pulled back, and that happened too soon for his liking.
“How was the cabin?”
“Great,” he said, wrapping his arms around her to keep her close. “You should come next time.”
“I’d come if you invited me.”
He detected a cool note in her voice. “Sometimes I crave the solitude and tranquility of Bear Mountain.”
She rocked in his arms, as if she wanted to be there and nowhere else. “So if I go with you, there won’t be that solitude.”
“I like being with you,” Landon said, speaking the truth. “I like that you give me the time and space to like being with myself.”
“I’m not even sure what that means.” Megan giggled, the vibration of her voice sending shockwaves through him.
“It means I’m going to Utah tomorrow, and I want you to come with me again.”
She stepped out of his arms, her dark eyes searching his face. “Utah? Tomorrow?”
“The owners of Brush Creek want to renegotiate the price. It’s mine if I want it. I said I wanted to come see it again.”
She moved to her apartment door and unlocked it. “I thought you said it was too far from civilization.” Megan didn’t wait for him before disappearing into her apartment.
He followed, his heart tapping out a frantic rhythm. “It’s a bit far from a major city, yes. But it’s gorgeous country, and the ranch itself is in pristine condition.”
Megan threw her purse and bag on the couch and faced him. “It sounds like you’ve made up your mind.”
With her arms folded like that and her tone so full of acid, Landon wanted to deny it. He shrugged instead, thinking if he said he had made up his mind to purchase Brush Creek, he’d lose her.
“I don’t see the point in paying for an airplane ticket to go see a ranch you already know you’re going to buy.” She blinked rapidly, a slight wobble in her chin.
“Megan.” He strode toward her, desperate to make her understand. He brushed his lips across her forehead and wove his fingers through hers. “Just come with me. See how you feel while you’re there.”
“I don’t—”
“I love you,” he blurted. His blood pounded through his veins with the strength of hurricane-force winds. What had he just said? Was it true?
“It’s not my ranch,” Megan said, completely ignoring his declaration. “I don’t need to know how I’d feel there.” She gently released his fingers. “But you have a good trip. Call me when you get back.”
She turned her back on him, effectively ending the conversation. Landon stood there for a few moments, trying to understand. He backed up one step, then another. “I’ll call you when I get back.”
Megan lifted one hand in a good-bye wave, but she didn’t turn around. Her shoulders and head bent forward, and Landon ached to comfort her, assure her that he did in fact love her. But she was unreachable, so he turned and left, every step tearing out a little piece of his heart. He left the bits behind, hoping they’d be the breadcrumbs he needed to find his way back to her.
17
Brush Creek was every bit as amazing as Landon remembered. Too bad he felt like he’d left a vital part of his life in Montana.
“Stay as long as you like.” Shelly dropped a key into Landon’s hand. “Let me know what you decide.” She climbed into her car and left him standing on the horse ranch of his dreams.
He exhaled as he tipped his head back. “Is this where I’m supposed to be?” he asked the sky. “You know the nearest city of any size is an hour away, right? The town of Brush Creek is maybe five thousand people.”
He’d taken more time in the town that morning. Yes, there was a grocery store where he could get food and household supplies. They had a section in the back with feed and basic farm equipment, but Landon would definitely need a bigger supply store to outfit a horse ranch—and some horses.
He was planning to start small. Him and maybe one other horseman. A couple of horses. Tom had mentioned a breeder he knew who’d set up her stables in Texas after retiring from the rodeo. He could start with some of her horses, some of his contacts in the rodeo….
A smile crossed his face as he imagined what kind of life he could have here at Brush Creek. He flipped the key around in his hand. He didn’t need to go back inside the house to know how he felt about this ranch.
“I want it.” His voice echoed in the country stillness surrounding him. He cast his eyes around, wishing Megan were here with him. Because he wanted her too, right here beside him.
He pulled out his phone and called her, unsurprised when she didn’t pick up. She’d said to call, but he had—three times now—and she hadn’t answered once. He’d left messages the first two times, but this time he just hung up. She had eyes and a brand new phone; she could see that he’d called.
He drove down into town—only about ten minutes—and picked up lunch at the gas station in the form of a hot dog and a soda. He found a bakery and a diner, so he wouldn’t starve despite his limited sandwich skills in the kitchen. The city center had a town hall, a large park with tennis and basketball courts, along with the post office and a couple more shops.
After he’d seen all there was to see in Brush Creek, he began the long drive back to the airport. He’d flown out of Montana on Saturday morning, and he wanted to be back on Sunday night.
He’d call the realtor in the morning and confirm the offer. She could fax papers. As the miles rolled by under his tires, he wondered when he’d move to Utah permanently.
“Maybe you won’t,” he said to himself. He knew people had summer homes and winter homes and even holiday homes. Heck, at least half of the cabins up the east side of the mountain in Gold Valley sat empty most of the time, only inhabited when their owners came for vacation. Even Sterling Maughan, whose family owned just such a summer vacation home, had bought a house in the valley instead of living up in the cabin community full time.
So Landon could have a summer home in Utah if he wanted to. Lots of rodeo stars did. At the same time, he knew he didn’t want to live in Utah part-time. He wanted to call it home, train horses during his work hours, and relax in that hot tub at night, maybe with a dog at his side.
Yes, at Brush Creek, he could get the dog he wanted. But no matter what, a four-legged furry friend was a poor substitute for Megan. Instinctively, he pressed harder on the gas pedal. He needed to see her, talk to her, as soon as possible. They needed to figure things out, because he wasn’t quite ready to give up on her yet.
He’d have to wait a little longer. Hours, at least. He had a layover that would delay him, and his flight wasn’t landing in Missoula until almost midnight. He’d planned to stay in a hotel until morning and make the nearly-two-hour drive before anyone else woke. Certainly before Megan did.
The urge to call her while he waited for his flight almost consumed him. He stared at his phone, but didn’t make the call. Proud of himself for his resilience, he boarded the plane and turned off his phone. By the time he touched down in Montana and checked into his hotel, it was too late to call.
Or was it? Megan stayed up late. Maybe he could call, and she wouldn’t have any excuse not to answer.
But he was tired, and he didn’t want to fathom how he’d feel if she chose not to answer for a fourth time. So he set his phone face-down on the nightstand and hit the hay.
The next morning, he went straight to Megan’s apartment once he arrived in Gold Valley. The clock on his stereo system barely read eight o’clock, and nerves paraded through Landon. Sho
uld he wait? Call first? Go barreling up there and pound on the door until she dragged herself out of bed?
He waited, his anxiety and frustration building until he wasn’t sure he was even thinking rationally. He got out of his truck and took a deep breath of the air he loved so much. He took his time glancing around before heading toward the stairwell.
Another man approached at the same time Landon did, and Landon waved for the dark-haired man to go first. Unshaven, the man had a wild look in his eye though he smiled and said, “Thanks.”
Landon followed him, surprise shooting to his brain when the man stepped toward Megan’s apartment. “Oh, you’re going to 2C also?”
“Yes.” The man twisted back toward Landon as he leaned into the doorbell. “My girlfriend lives here.”
Landon stumbled backward like he’d been punched. “Your girlfriend?” He glanced over the railing like maybe he’d gotten the wrong building. “Megan Palmer lives here, right?”
“Right.”
Pieces clicked around in Landon’s brain. This man’s girlfriend was…Megan?
This man is Eric.
Landon’s fists curled as shock and anger traveled through him in the powerful waves of a tsunami.
“How do you know Megan?” Eric pounded on the door. “Come on, Megs. Wake up!” He turned back to Landon expectantly.
“Oh, I….” Landon waved his hand toward nothing and everything at the same time. “I work with her at the church. Been doing the remodeling.”
“Oh, that’s nice.” Eric faced the door again and lifted his fist, but the door swung inward before he could strike.
“I said not to come until ten,” Megan said in a groggy voice. “You’re—” She cut into silence when her eyes landed on Landon.
He couldn’t wrench his eyes away from her lovely face. Even without makeup, even with her hair spilling wildly over her shoulders, even wearing a tank top and pajama shorts, Landon found her intoxicating and beautiful. So beautiful, his heart hurt.
Was this really happening? She knew Eric was coming? She’d spoken to him about coming to her apartment at a specific time?
Memories of Lauren’s lies, of finding Lauren and Jerry together, of watching Lauren sneak off to meet that other man, flooded Landon’s mind. He’d done a great job keeping them boxed up, taped closed, stapled down, never to be opened again. But he couldn’t control them now, staring at Megan and seeing the absolute horror on her face.
The absolute horror tinged with guilt.
He’d seen that look before. Hated that look.
He couldn’t think. But he still acted by lifting his phone. “I called you several times,” he said, his voice almost robotic. “I thought I was your boyfriend.”
The scraping of Eric’s shoes on the ground alerted Landon to his continued presence. His face heated, and he wanted nothing more than to get away from her apartment, get away from her.
“I’ll see you at the church when you can get there.” Landon turned and fled, his feet barely hitting the ground before moving again. He forced himself to walk to his truck, hoping Megan would call for him to come back.
When she didn’t, he locked himself in his truck and refused to look up to her balcony. He kept his eyes trained away as he drove out of the parking lot. Then he wouldn’t have to torture himself with the knowledge that Eric had entered her apartment. Eric had touched her. Eric was now her boyfriend.
Megan stared after Landon, her muscles frozen and her vocal chords numb. The roar of his truck’s engine finally thawed everything. She smacked Eric in the chest. “What are you doing here?” Her voice came out as a growl.
“You told me to bring you your money.”
“At ten.”
“Well, that guy was here to see you too.” He hooked his thumb over his shoulder. “Who’s he?”
Megan tossed her curls over her shoulder. “He’s who I was telling you about yesterday.”
“Oh, that boyfriend.” Eric rolled his eyes. “Too bad he left so fast.”
Megan squinted at him, her ears detecting something in the lower registers of Eric’s voice. “What did you say to him?” It certainly wasn’t like Landon to run from anything, and flashes of what he’d said about his previous girlfriend stole through Megan’s mind.
“I think he probably figured a woman couldn’t have two boyfriends.” Eric started to swagger toward her living room, but Megan pushed him back.
“You told him you were my boyfriend?”
“I may have used that word.” He smirked at her, a familiar gesture Megan used to find sexy. Now she wanted to smack it from his lips.
“I am not your girlfriend, Eric. I don’t even want to see you, or talk to you, or anything, ever again. I made that very clear last night.” She stretched up on her toes. “Didn’t I?”
He lifted his hands as if a cop had just shouted, “Hands up!” His grin turned sheepish. “You did, yes, Megs. I just…miss you.”
Megan laughed, the sound cold and harsh. “Right. You miss me. You miss me picking up dinner and paying for everything. You don’t miss me.” She retreated to her apartment. “Where’s my money?”
He pulled an envelope from his back pocket and extended it toward her. She yanked it from his fingers. “And now we’re done. You were leaving town right after this, remember?”
“I remember.”
“Good.” She gripped the door, her teeth aching from how hard she was clenching her jaw. Eric really knew the exact right way to mess up her life. Again. “I never want to see you again.” She started to close the door, but paused. “And don’t call me Megs.” She slammed the door in Eric’s face and hurried to lock it.
Once safe, she ran to her bedroom to collect her phone. She’d noticed Landon’s calls, two of which had come while she was in meetings with community members. The third had come yesterday about four seconds after Eric had shown up on her doorstep. She’d been so flustered by his reappearance in her life, she hadn’t answered. Hadn’t called back.
And of course, Landon had shown up on her doorstep the very next morning. The man was as unpredictable as he was steady. And strong, her mind added. And sexy.
She tapped to get to his name, muttering while the line rang. He didn’t pick up. “Landon,” she said. “Please answer the phone. I can explain everything if you’ll just come back to my apartment. Or I’ll meet you somewhere. Wherever you want.” She half-exhaled, half-sighed. “I’m going to call you again. Please, please answer.”
Megan hung up and looked at her phone. Maybe he was driving. Maybe his phone was off after traveling. Maybe, maybe, maybe.
She hated maybe. She just wanted Landon to come back.
Go get him, she thought, and she flew into action. He’d come for her. She could go to him too—he said he’d be at the church. She could go to the church.
She threw on the first clothes she found and flew down the steps into her car. The ten-minute drive to the church seemed to take hours, and her parking job looked like a ten-year-old had done it. She hurried into the church, realizing his truck wasn’t in the parking lot. “Landon!” she called anyway.
No one was there, and that classical music wafting from her father’s office only pushed her nerves further into despair.
“Dad.” She skidded to a stop in his doorway.
He glanced up. “Sweetie, good morning.”
“Hey.” Her gaze swung around wildly, searching for something she knew wasn’t there.
“Megan, are you okay? You sound—”
Tears leaked out of Megan’s eyes. “No, Dad, I’m not okay. I need to go find Landon.”
“He was just here at the church.”
Hope leapt into her mind, clouding her reasoning for a few seconds. Finally, she was able to say, “Is he still here somewhere?”
“No, he just came in and looked at the chapel. I asked him if he needed anything, and he shook his head and left.” Her father exhaled. “Megan, he seemed fine.”
She shook her head. “Did he say
where he was going?”
“He didn’t say anything.”
She turned to leave. “Thanks.”
“Megan—”
“Dad, I don’t want to talk about it right now.”
The wheels on his chair scraped as he slid backward. “Megan, wait.”
Her shoulders rose and fell as she inhaled. Her dad joined her in the hall, stepped right in front of her, and lifted her chin so she had to look at him. “Megan, just remember that you’ve always had great faith. And that means you can take steps into darkness. Steps you don’t see.”
Megan didn’t want one of her father’s adages right now, but she nodded anyway. He stepped aside and she hurried back to her car. She wasn’t one-hundred percent sure where Landon would go when he was upset, but she was going to start in the one place he loved most: Horseshoe Home Ranch.
18
“And the only thing I could think to do was come out here.” Megan finished her story as Belle leaned forward and set her coffee mug on the table. “I know he’s here, Belle. His truck is in front of his cabin.” The hope and relief Megan had felt when she’d pulled up and seen the giant, gray truck had been astronomical. Now, though, she simply needed to find him, talk to him, help him understand everything.
“I haven’t seen him,” Belle said. “But Jace might have.” She reached for her phone and thumbed out a message. “We’ll see if he responds. If he’s out working, he doesn’t always take his phone.”
Megan’s fingers rolled around and around each other. Her stomach swooped from one side of her body to the other, and she felt sure she was about to be sick. Minutes ticked by while Belle tried to distract her with small talk from the town.
It felt like a lifetime had passed, but when Megan checked her phone, only ten minutes had gone by. “Belle, what—?”
“He hasn’t answered.” She stood, a long sigh hissing from her lips. She placed one hand on her belly and took slow, careful steps. “The cowboys carry radios when they go out. Let’s go over to the administration lodge and find him.”