by Liz Isaacson
“I can handle it,” he said dryly, and Montana grinned as she turned away from him.
“Hey, sweetie,” she said to Aurora. “You’re up and getting ready for school?”
“Yep,” Aurora said, her voice already pitched up.
Montana braced herself for whatever came next. Her daughter probably needed something from her, and she quickly ran through what she was supposed to do last night that she hadn’t been able to do because she hadn’t been able to get back to town.
She couldn’t think of anything.
“Listen, I don’t know if you’ll be back this afternoon or not, and Ollie said I could come over for sure after school, and you never said if I could go or not….”
Montana frowned, but she honestly wasn’t sure what her afternoon looked like, as she still had a job at the college to finish, and it would be nice to not have to worry about Aurora. “His parents will be there?”
“Yes, Mom.”
“I get to ask questions,” Montana said, pacing further from Bishop and Arizona and Lincoln, though Arizona and Lincoln seemed engaged in teasing Bishop about his bacon mounding technique.
“I know.”
“Are you going to brush up on your French?”
“Yes,” Aurora said. “And we have chemistry together too. I’m sure we’ll just do homework and watch TV. Just like I do here.”
“His parents said it’s okay?”
“Yes.” Aurora’s impatience came through the line, and Montana knew she should stop. The problem was, once she gave her permission, the call would end.
“Okay,” Montana said. “I’ll keep in touch, so I can get his address and let you know when I’ll be picking you up.”
“Thanks, Mom.” Aurora squealed, and Montana pressed her eyes closed for an entirely different reason now.
She prayed for patience quickly, adding a quick note about being strong. “Aurora,” she said. “When you’re studying French, that does not involve kissing.”
“Mom, come on.”
“No, you come on,” she said. “You know boys want to kiss.”
“What if I want to kiss him too?”
“Aurora, don’t make me say you can’t go over there.”
Her daughter sighed like Montana was requiring her to rip off her own arm before she went to school. “Fine, Mom. We’ll just study French vocabulary. Not French kissing.”
“No kissing,” Montana said. “Of any kind.”
“Mom, fourteen-year-olds kiss.”
“Have you been to his house before?”
“No.”
“Has he been at any of the houses where you’ve been hanging out this year?”
“No,” Aurora said, her voice slipping into resignation.
“Then you need more time to get to know this boy before you start kissing him.”
Aurora didn’t answer, which meant she knew Montana was right.
“I’ll keep in touch so I can get his address and let you know what time I’ll be there.” She turned around and found Bishop watching her, his second piece of toast almost gone. “Tell me the safe word.”
“Spaghetti,” Aurora dutifully recited, and Montana nodded.
“Good girl. Have a good day at school. I love you.”
“Love you too, Mom.”
Montana ended the call and slipped the phone into her pocket. She stepped back over to Bishop, who was alone in the kitchen.
“No French kissing?” he asked, those eyes aglow.
His spirit lit something inside her that she’d thought long dead. “Oh, my daughter likes this boy, and she’s going to his house this afternoon for the first time.”
“Sounds scandalous.”
“Be honest,” Montana said, settling at the bar and looking at him across the wide island. “When you were fourteen, and you liked a girl enough to invite her over to your house to do French homework, you were thinking about kissing her.”
Bishop didn’t even blink. “Absolutely,” he said, grinning.
Montana shook her head, even as a decent amount of worry snaked through her. She reminded herself that Aurora had a good head on her shoulders. “I don’t think much has changed with you, Mister Glover.”
He leaned his palms into the counter, his smile the most glorious thing Montana had ever seen. “I’d love for you to come up here in the afternoon, since you don’t have to be in town with your daughter.” He raised his eyebrows, his invitation clear. “I’ll pay you for the day. And maybe….” He dropped his gaze to the counter in front of him, and he was the most adorable man Montana had ever met. She tried to press on the brakes of her feelings, because she’d felt this way before. In fact, new relationships always tingled and sparked. This one was nothing new or different.
“Maybe you and I could go to dinner together tomorrow night.”
Before Montana could answer, more male voices filled the silence. At least three, maybe four. She turned and watched as two men came through the arch, both of them talking at the same time.
“That’s all I’m saying,” one said, and he clearly belonged to Bishop somehow.
The other did too. “I know what you’re sayin’,” the second man said, wiping his hand down his face. “I just don’t think it’s going to work.”
They looked at Montana and Bishop at the same time. “There’s bacon?” one said, and he made a beeline for the counter.
“There was bacon,” Bishop said, grinning. “How’s the fire?”
“Contained, finally,” the first man said. “Can you make us some eggs or something? Ward and I have been out there all night.”
“Preacher and Judge are out there now,” Ward said, sitting down at the end of the counter. He glanced at Montana, and she opened her mouth to introduce herself.
“This is Montana Martin,” Bishop said, practically leaping over the countertop as he threw up his arm so she wouldn’t speak. “She’s my new crew for the construction around here.” He smiled at her. “My cousin, Ward. My brother, Cactus.”
“Nice to meet you,” Montana said, feeling like a speck of dust among all these tall, dark cowboys.
“What is this?” Cactus asked, picking up a half-eaten piece of peanut butter bacon toast.
“It’s the food of the gods,” Montana said at the same time Bishop said, “It’s your funeral.”
Chapter Seven
Bishop couldn’t help grinning like a fool at Montana as she made an indignant sound. Ward and Cactus would be able to see that this pretty blonde woman had already smitten him, but he couldn’t get himself to stop.
Finally, the spell broke when Link came bounding into the kitchen, and Ward grinned as he scooped him into his arms.
“You smell like smoke, Uncle Ward.”
“That’s because I’ve been out watching the fire all night.” He set Link back on his feet. “Can I take Benny today?”
“Bishy was gonna take him to the garage, because he’s not…something.”
“I’m not here most of the day,” Bishop said, glancing at Montana. “The guys at the garage like him, and I figured he’d be out of the way there.”
“I’ll take him,” Ward said. “I’m going to shower and sleep as much as I want.” He gave Bishop a weary smile and started for the steps. “Ace and I are okay in Ranger’s rooms until he gets back?”
“Yeah,” Bishop said. “Montana was in there last night, but—”
“I cleaned everything up,” she said quickly, rising. “You won’t even know which bed I slept in.”
Ward nodded at her and then Bishop and left the kitchen. Bishop looked at Cactus, who was just polishing off the last bit of Lincoln’s toast. He looked like he wanted to talk to Bishop, but thankfully, he needed to get Lincoln to school.
“Come on, bud,” he said. “Get your backpack and let’s go. I refuse to let you be late on my watch.”
“Career Day is tomorrow, Uncle Bishop. You can still come, right?”
Bishop put his arm around the boy and looked at Montana, who
was scurrying to his side and away from Cactus. “Yes,” he said, though he had no idea what tomorrow would bring. “I can still come. What time?”
“It’s after lunch,” Lincoln said as he stooped to get his backpack from just outside the kitchen. “I got you that paper.”
“Right, the paper,” Bishop said, but he couldn’t recall where he’d put it at the moment. All he could focus on was the blonde at his side. He’d asked her to dinner, but she still hadn’t said yes. Not that she’d had the opportunity to do so.
Don’t ask again, he told himself. She already knows you’re interested. It’s fine.
He went outside with the two of them, Lincoln skipping ahead to go down the steps. “You really could come out this afternoon,” he said. “In fact, it might be good for you to be there when I meet with the exterminator. Then you’ll know what we’re dealing with at the Ranch House too.”
“Four o’clock?”
“I should be back here about two,” he said, pausing at the bottom of the steps. “Get in a couple of good hours of demo.”
“Nothing better than demo,” Montana said, her smile lighting his pulse on fire. “Thanks for letting me stay up here, Bishop.”
“Of course.”
She ducked her head and started toward her truck. Bishop wanted to say something witty and fun, but he held back. He didn’t need to make a fool of himself by asking again.
She’d been flirting with him right in front of Zona, as his sister had so not-casually pointed out while Montana had been on the phone. Bishop had told her if she really cared about him, she’d take Link upstairs for five minutes so Bishop could ask Montana to dinner.
Turned out, Zona did care about him, and she’d done as he’d asked. If only Bishop had known he needed to text the whole blasted family that he needed two minutes alone with a woman.
He wrenched his eyes away from Montana and got in his own truck, settling and buckling his seatbelt. “Ready, bud?”
“Yep,” Lincoln said. “Bishy, could you bring your big hammer tomorrow?”
“Only if you stop calling me Bishy,” he said, cutting the nine-year-old a look out of the corner of his eye.
Bishop had barely pulled up to the assisted living facility where his aunt lived when his mother came out the front door. He grinned, laughed, and swung out of the truck to go hug her.
“Momma,” he said, the only son to call her that. He picked her right up off her feet as she laughed.
“Bense,” she said, reverting to his real childhood nickname. “Put me down, child. I’m far too old for such things.”
He did as she said, grinning at her. “Sorry, Mother.”
She swatted at his bicep, still smiling. “You’re taking me to that place with the good salads, right?”
“Yes, Mother,” he said. “Same as always.” He didn’t particularly enjoy Bella Vita, but his mother loved the garden crunch salad, and he’d do anything to make his mother happy. Anything.
“Maybe they’ll have that brisket again. You liked that.”
“I did like that.” He opened her door and helped her get up. She wasn’t as old at Aunt Dawna, and she had quite a bit of her normal mobility. She lived in a cottage with Zona on the ranch, and Bishop usually brought her the salad and they ate at her house.
He wasn’t sure if the other brothers knew he had one-on-one lunches with Mother, and he didn’t care if they did. He needed them, and he wouldn’t apologize for centering his soul and aligning his thoughts when they got crooked and out of place.
“I heard about the fire,” she said, and Bishop glanced at her before he looked over his shoulder to pull out.
“Yeah,” he said. “It’s still burning, but it’s contained. There aren’t any more houses in danger, and we’ve got men watching our borders to make sure it doesn’t come onto Shiloh Ridge.”
“Donald said they’d have it out by tonight,” she said.
“Oh, have you been callin’ in your favors with the fire chief?” Bishop asked, teasing her.
Mother reached up and patted her perfectly set hair. “Perhaps.”
“Momma,” Bishop said. He’d expected her to admit it, but he hadn’t expected her to be so proper about it. He stared openly as a hint of a flush worked its way up her neck and into her face.
“Momma,” he said again, his heartbeat crashing against his ribs. “Are you sweet on Donald Parker?”
“Pish posh,” Momma said, scoffing as she turned away from him. She curled the fingers of one hand around the back of her neck. “I just don’t want the fire to reach Shiloh Ridge.”
Bishop started to chuckle, though he honestly wasn’t sure how he felt about his mother having a crush. She was seventy-eight-years-old, and Daddy had been gone for fifteen years.
As far as Bishop knew, none of her children had ever asked her if she wanted to date again. She’d never brought it up. He’d been so young, and he hadn’t even started his year of living like a cowboy on the ranch, earning the same rate they paid their men, and living in the same cabins.
After he’d done that, he’d moved back into the homestead with Mother, Arizona, and Bear. That had only sufficed for a couple of years, and then Bishop had finished his carpentry training and finished the cottage where Zona and Mother lived now.
“I think you just lied to me, Mother,” he said. His chest squeezed tightly though. He cleared his throat. “If you marry him, can I still go to lunch with you?”
“I’m not going to marry him,” Mother said with so much force that Bishop believed her. “Even if I did, you would always be able to come have lunch with me.” She reached over and put her hand on his forearm. “I know how much you need them.”
He nodded, because he couldn’t argue with her.
“So tell your mother what’s eating at you this time.”
“It’s nothing, Mother,” he said, though it was something.
“I don’t judge, Bishop,” she said. “You best take your cares to John if you want someone to make a judgment.”
“He doesn’t judge either, Mother.” It was why John went by Judge. He was like the apostle—any judgments he did make were righteous, and always spot-on. Bishop had never gone wrong when he’d gone to Judge for help.
“I know,” she said. “None of you do, which is why it’s troubling to me that you feel like you don’t fit.”
“It’s just that everyone has a person,” Bishop said, trying to find the right way to explain it this month. It wasn’t like this was the first time he and his mother had spoken of this.
“Ward and Ace. Judge and Preacher. Bear and Ranger. Cactus and Bear. Heck, Ward and Bear. Ace and Bear.” He turned away from his mother. “Everyone loves Bear.”
“Of course everyone loves Bear,” Mother said. “He messes up all the time, son. And he’s real, and he’s apologetic, and he works hard to do better. That endears him to them.”
“So you’re saying I have to be meaner? And then apologize?”
“No,” she said. “I’m saying you have to be Bishop, not Bear.”
“That makes no sense, Mother.”
“You have a person too,” she said. “Ace.”
Bishop nodded, because he and Ace did get along really well.
“And Cactus. That man would be lost without you, and don’t you forget it,” Mother said, her voice turning dark. “I don’t think it’s any coincidence that he lets exactly two people come to his cabin—you and Bear. You’re more like your eldest brother than you think you are.”
Bishop didn’t respond, because he didn’t know what that meant either. He and Bear were nothing alike. In fact, Bishop had done as much as he could to stand apart from Bear. He loved his brother; he did work hard around the ranch to make Bear proud.
After Daddy died, it was Bear he needed to impress. Bear who checked off his work. Bear who’d taken him in and loved him like an equal even though he’d been a teenager trying to be a man.
“Bishop.”
“I’m done talking about
it, Mother,” he said, glancing at her. “Okay?” He smiled. “Thank you, but I don’t need anything else.”
She wore worry plainly in her bright blue eyes, the source of where all of her children had gotten their lighter features. Of them all, Bishop was the most like her coloring, and she often told him he was her favorite son.
“You’re my favorite son, remember?” she asked, smiling.
He smiled too and turned into the parking lot for her favorite restaurant. “Yes, Mother,” he said. “But I’m pretty sure you say that to all the sons.”
“I do not,” she said huffily, her hand going right back to pat her curls. “Now come help me out of this truck like a proper gentleman. I see our new pastor coming out, and you’ll want to make a good impression.”
Bishop laughed as he got out of the truck and went to help his mother. He let her clutch his arm and act utterly delighted to meet the new pastor who’d come to their church to help his brother, who’s suffered a fall a month or so ago.
He smiled and he made small talk, playing the perfect Texan cowboy gentleman, but inside, a storm swirled, and Bishop needed a way to release it before it consumed him whole.
As Mother sat down and got situated, he sent a quick text to Cactus. I asked Montana to dinner right before you guys came in, and she didn’t answer. Do I ask again?
Cactus’s response came instantly. You’re asking me? How would I know?
Come on, Bishop said. You know.
You like her?
That’s a hard yes. In fact, Bishop had done the interview with the other cowboy this morning, but he wouldn’t be able to hire him for more than day work, which only paid fifty bucks a day, because he’d blown his whole budget on Montana’s contract.
When Bear found out….
She knows you like her?
Yes. If she didn’t, Bishop didn’t know how to make it more obvious.
And you met her when?
Yesterday morning.
Then give her a minute, Cactus said. We’re a lot to handle—you’re a lot to handle, Bishop. Handsome, tall, strong, good with your hands. Maybe you intimidate her. Maybe she needs a minute to breathe after getting a job at our ranch and meeting you literally less than twenty-four hours ago.