by Liz Isaacson
“She—I don’t want to say now.”
“Come on,” he said. “I didn’t mean to laugh. I was just expecting you to say they were making out. Reading felt so…tame.” He remembered what he and Montana were doing right before she left, and reading a book was nowhere near Bishop’s mind.
“She reacted the same way you did,” Montana said miserably. “She said they weren’t doing anything wrong. He was reading the book they have to do an analysis on for English, and she was taking notes so they could get the assignment done.”
“You were just surprised.”
“I forgot he was coming home with her,” Montana admitted. “You distract me, Bishop Glover.”
He started to laugh again but cut it off quickly. “In a good way, right?”
“Depends on what I need to remember and how late I am.”
“I won’t do it again,” he teased.
“Mm hm,” she said dryly. “That girl needs a job.” She sighed. “I just don’t know what to do for her. She’ll be fifteen in a few weeks, and who’s going to hire a fifteen-year-old?”
“Lots of people,” Bishop said.
“Really?’
“If she’s willing to work,” Bishop said. “There are tons of farms and ranches who are always looking for hands.” He entered the equipment shed, and Bear turned toward him with a growl on his face. He needed to wrap up this conversation quickly. “I’ll ask Bear and Ranger, okay? They always know stuff like that.”
“Would you?”
“Of course,” he said. “And you don’t need to come back up tonight. There’s nothing to do at the Ranch House, and the floors are done at the cabins.”
“You sure? I can just work on the cabinets.”
“It’s up to you,” Bishop said. “I’m good either way.”
Montana fell silent for a few moments, and Bishop opened his mouth to say he had to run when she said, “Would you come to a family dinner party for Aurora’s birthday?”
A strange, strangled noise came out of Bishop’s mouth. He quickly coughed and turned his back on Grizzly Bear. “Of course,” he said. “Absolutely. One hundred percent yes.”
Montana laughed and said, “Okay, Bishop. I got it.”
He pressed his eyes closed and begged the Lord to know what to say. He opened his mouth, still hoping God would just put the right words there. “Does this mean you’ll come to my family dinner birthday party thing next week?”
“Yes,” Montana said. “We’re all going to be there…just as soon as I figure out how to tell my daughter—who I just told she needed to be smart with boys and not be alone with them—that I’ve been kissing you.”
“She knows we’ve been out, right?”
“Sort of?” Montana hedged, and Bishop didn’t like that.
Behind him, Bear called his name. “I have to go,” he said. “I’m sorry, but Bear’s in a mood about the tractor, and apparently, I’m the only one who can fit underneath it.”
“No problem,” she said. “I’ll call you later.”
“Okay.” He hung up and turned toward Bear. He gave him a glare that said, I know what’s going on. I needed five minutes.
Bear held up one hand as an apology, and Bishop once again found himself with a burning curiosity about his brother’s letter. His letter from his father had left Bishop feeling like he’d been loved and appreciated, and that he still had a lot to live up to. He’d wanted to share his letter with Bear, as he was in it, but Bear said he wasn’t ready yet.
Ace grunted from underneath the tractor, and Bishop bent down. “Status.”
“I can’t reach the blasted thing.” Ace slid out, his face filled with irritation. “I can’t get underneath far enough, and I can’t extend my arm far enough.” He took Bishop’s hand and let him pull him to his feet. He handed the wrench to Bishop. “Good luck. That thing is impossible.”
“I don’t know why they make these things so hard to work on,” Bear said.
“You don’t have to watch,” Ace said, glaring at him. “Don’t you have something else to do?” He and Bear entered a battle of wills, and Bishop stepped between them.
“You two need to go to your separate corners.” He looked from Bear to Ace. “What’s going on?”
“He yelled at me about the catering for Aunt Lois’s party.”
Bishop looked at Bear. “You did? Why? You put Ace in charge of the food.”
“He hired his girlfriend, and she has the lowest reviews in town.”
“She’s brand-new,” Ace shot back. “There’s one review, and it’s from her next-door neighbor who ordered the lemon bars when he thought he’d ordered the lemon chiffon cake. She showed me the order form and everything.” Ace’s chest heaved, and Bishop actually put out one hand as if Ace would fly at Bear and start swinging. “And she’s not my girlfriend.”
“Ace,” Bishop said. “Is it Holly Ann?”
Ace finally tore his gaze from Bear. “Yeah.”
Bishop leaned closer. “She’s not your girlfriend? I thought you guys have been out a few times now.”
“Yeah, well, so did I,” Ace mumbled. He pushed his cowboy hat forward and fell back a couple of steps. “The food is going to be great,” he said louder.
“I’m sure it will,” Bishop said, looking at Bear. He lifted his eyebrows, and Bear dropped his glare.
“I’m sorry, Ace. I’m stressed about a lot of things.” He held up his hand as Bishop opened his mouth. “I know that doesn’t give me the right to say mean stuff. I just want everything to be perfect for Mother’s party.”
“It will be,” Bishop said. “The barn is beautiful, and I talked to Ari at the restoration shop, and she said the letters cleaned up great, and they’re already onto preservation. It’s going to be ready on time.”
Bear nodded, and Bishop understood the slightly different nod where he looked toward the door. Bishop lowered the hand he still held toward Ace and he took several steps away, Bear going with him. “What’s going on?” he asked. “I know most of the stuff around the ranch, and we’re not that stressed right now.”
“Besides this tractor.”
“We always have maintenance in the spring,” Bishop said.
“And the Ranch House.”
“Which you don’t live in.” Bishop could do this all day. Perhaps Bear did carry a heavier load than some of the others, but Bishop still didn’t know of anything so crazy-stressful that would drive Bear back to being a grizzly.
Bear rolled his neck. “I haven’t been sleeping well.”
“I’m sorry,” Bishop said.
“Let’s go to the cemetery tonight,” Bear said, and Bishop immediately nodded. “Bring your letter if you want to share it with me,” his brother added. “I’ll bring mine.”
“Okay.”
Bear nodded and called, “I’m sorry, Ace,” before turning to leave the equipment shed.
“Yeah,” Ace called, and Bishop watched Bear leave before he returned to Ace.
“Holly Ann?”
“Her neighbor is eighty-nine years old and in the early stages of dementia,” Ace said, a dark look still in his eyes.
Bishop blinked and burst out laughing. “I don’t care about the review,” Bishop said. “I—she doesn’t think you’re dating?”
“She said she needed to focus on her catering business,” Ace said, staring over Bishop’s shoulder. “I suggested lots of different options before you start doing that too. In the end, she flat-out said she liked me, but she needed to focus on her business.”
“Ouch,” Bishop said. “I’m sorry, Ace.”
“Yeah, well, me too,” he said, softening. “Now, can you please fix this so Bear will calm down?”
“I’ll try.” Bishop gripped the wrench and slid under the tractor. He was able to get further underneath it than Ace had been, and he searched for the bolt that would open the compartment where the filter went.
“Have you noticed Cactus going to church?” Ace asked.
“Yes,”
Bishop called out to him. He fitted the wrench around the bolt and strained against it. “What’s with that?”
“I have a theory.”
“Let’s hear it.”
“He only goes when the new pastor preaches. He’s always late, and he always leaves early.”
“Wow, you’ve really been watching him.” The bolt suddenly moved, and Bishop grunted. “Got it.”
“Of course you did,” Ace said, and while he didn’t sound happy about it, he really was.
The panel came with the bolt, and the next thing Bishop knew, it fell toward his face. He yelped and tried to put his hand between his nose and the panel, but he couldn’t.
Pain exploded through his face, and he immediately started pulling himself out from underneath the tractor. Ace’s voice crowded in his ears, but Bishop couldn’t distinguish the words through the screaming nerves of his nose.
Ace shoved something into his hands, and Bishop held the rag to his face. Moment by moment, the pain lessened, and he realized his nose was gushing blood. He groaned, and Ace said, “I’ll finish it. Go wash up.”
Bishop got to his feet and tipped his head back to get the blood to stop. When it finally did, he went over to the sink against the wall and washed up. By the time he was done, Ace had the tractor running.
Bishop returned to the machine, smiling. “Good job.”
“I just need you to get the panel back on.”
“Okay,” Bishop said.
Ace stared at him. “You’re going to have a black eye.”
Bishop reached up and touched his face. “It’s not broken at least.”
Ace grinned at him. “You’re going to have a shiner for your birthday.”
Horror filled Bishop. “No,” he said, his voice made mostly of air. “Montana is bringing her daughter and aunt and uncle to my birthday dinner.”
Ace sobered and shook his head. “Bad luck, Bish.”
Bishop took the wrench from him. “Let’s just get this done so I can go ask my mother how to make this go away fast.”
Chapter Fourteen
Montana took the last tray of cookies out of the oven and pressed the cancel button to turn everything off. She couldn’t help noticing the time, and that Aurora would be home any minute.
With Oliver Osburn.
After Montana had found them reading in the hammock a few days ago, she’d been talking to Aurora every evening about boys and boyfriends and hormones and kissing. She’d spoken to Ollie for a few minutes before he’d had to leave, and Aurora had spent the next thirty minutes arguing with Montana about what they’d been doing in the hammock and how it was fine.
Montana had finally sat her down and told her that boys did not think the same way as girls. Period. The end.
Aurora still liked the boy, and honestly, Montana could see why. He was tall, and he wore a black cowboy hat like a pro. He looked at Aurora with stars in his eyes, and he’d been able to have a real, mature conversation with Montana before his mother had come to get him.
Montana stiffened as voices filled the air and then the front door closed. She untied the strings on her apron and pulled it over her head just as Aurora came into the kitchen. She looked like Montana had just thrown a bucket of ice water in her face, and Montana couldn’t blame her.
“I was able to leave the ranch at lunchtime,” she said, smiling as Ollie crowded in behind Aurora. He put his hand on her waist, and Montana saw it. Aurora knew she saw it, and she edged away from Ollie.
Another boy appeared, and surprise moved through Montana. She looked at Aurora, her eyebrows high.
“Mom, you remember Ollie,” Aurora said. “This is Charlie. He has Jensen for English too, and he lives out by Oliver.”
“Nice to meet you,” Montana said, nodding to the other boy. He didn’t wear a cowboy hat, but he smiled at her.
“Nice to meet you, ma’am. Thanks for lettin’ us come to your house. My mama just had twins, and it’s kind of a circus at my house.”
“Of course,” Montana said, deciding not to correct him on the house thing.
“Ma’am,” Oliver said, stepping forward. “My uncle was at my house the other day, and—”
“Ollie,” Aurora said, jumping in front of him. She said something else, but Montana couldn’t hear what it was. Oliver wore surprise in his eyes, but he ducked his head, and his cowboy hat hid his face at that point.
“She’s gonna find out,” Ollie said, looking past Aurora to Montana.
Montana’s heart started flopping around, because her daughter was keeping secrets from her. They’d talked a lot about that too, and Montana had said they couldn’t have secrets.
Too bad she hadn’t told Aurora about Bishop yet. She was running out of time, too, because his birthday party was in four days.
“You guys go out back,” Aurora said loudly. “I’ll bring out the cookies.”
Charlie grinned at Montana and nudged an unhappy Oliver. They did what Aurora wanted, and Montana waited until the back door clicked closed before she looked at her daughter.
“Chocolate chip cookies, Mom?” Aurora turned and got a plate out of the cupboard. “You’re making it seem like—” She cut off, but Montana heard the rest of the sentence.
“Like I’m a good mom?”
“No,” Aurora said, keeping her eyes down. “That’s not what I was going to say.”
Montana knew it was, but she didn’t want to argue. She sighed. “We really did get done early at the ranch today. The painters are behind schedule, and there’s nothing else to do until we get the new lumber for the Ranch House.”
“Great,” Aurora said. “We have that English report to finish.”
“What was Oliver going to tell me?” she asked.
Aurora stilled, but she raised her blue-gray eyes to look at Montana. “I don’t want to tell you.”
“I have something to tell you too.” Montana swallowed. “You go first.”
“I have two things.” Aurora looked like she might throw up. She was always a little pale, because she had Montana’s nearly white-blonde hair. Her eyes were darker than Montana’s, and she had a better ability to tan due to her father. She got dozens of freckles when she spent too much time outside, and she had Johnny’s long, straight nose.
“Start with the easiest one,” Montana said.
“I know I said—” Aurora swallowed and looked toward the back door. “I have kissed Oliver.”
Montana pulled in a breath, but she refused to fly off the handle again. If she wanted her daughter to tell her things like this—and she did—she had to be approachable. Montana had never been particularly approachable, but she was willing to work on this.
“Okay,” she said. “When?”
“I don’t know. After a party a while ago.”
“So you were alone with him.”
“For a few minutes,” she said. “It wasn’t a big deal, Mom.”
“Sweetheart.” Montana stepped around the counter to Aurora and drew her into a hug. “It is a big deal.” She stroked her daughter’s hair. “Did you like it?”
“Yes,” Aurora whispered. They both burst into giggles, and Montana’s pulse kept sprinting while she tried to figure out what to say.
“Have you kissed him again?”
“Yeah,” she said. “It’s not gross, Mom. We’re not making out or anything.”
Montana thought about the last kiss she’d shared with Bishop, mere hours ago. He’d pressed her into the strong, beautiful barn door in True Blue and kissed her until she couldn’t breathe. She’d had no idea how much time had passed, and she’d been riding a buzz all the way to the town’s border before she’d been able to focus.
“But you have to be alone to kiss him, right? You’re not kissing in front of other people?”
“Yeah, but it’s like when you come get me, he walks me to the door and kisses me real quick.”
“He’s a very cute kid,” Montana said, taking a deep breath. She thought of what Bishop had said when she�
��d called him to talk about her daughter. “You’re smart, and I trust you.” She stepped back and held Aurora by the shoulders. “I still want you to try to get a job this summer. I have to work, and I can’t be worried about you all the time.”
“I don’t know how to do that.”
“I do,” Montana said. “I’ve asked my boss at the ranch if he knows of any other ranches that are hiring teens, and he said they’re always looking for people to come help work with the horses at Bowman’s Breeds.”
Aurora looked doubtful, but she didn’t immediately argue, so Montana was going to count that as a win.
“Okay, your turn,” Aurora said.
Montana suddenly knew the desire to look anywhere but at her daughter. “Uh, okay.” She raised her head. She wasn’t embarrassed of her relationship with Bishop. “You—I’m dating Bishop Glover. He’s my boyfriend. I, uh, he, well, he walks me to my truck when I leave the ranch and kisses me good-bye, like how Ollie walks you to the door when you’re leaving the party.”
Aurora’s eyes grew wider with each word Montana spoke, until she gaped at Montana. “Mom.”
“What? I’ve dated before.”
“Not here.” Aurora shook her head, sending her long hair swinging. “Not for a while. Not while you’re lecturing me about being alone with boys.”
“Okay,” Montana said, working hard not to roll her eyes. She took as much sarcasm out of her voice as she could as she added, “I’m not fourteen, with my first very cute cowboy boyfriend.”
Aurora smiled, the gesture suddenly popping onto her face. A squeal followed, and she launched herself into Montana’s arms. “That’s so great, Mom.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really.” Aurora stepped back, her eyes glinting with happiness. “I’ve always said you should date.”
Montana nodded, because Aurora had said that. “Nothing is going to change with us,” she said. “Okay? He’s not more important than you.”
“I know that, Mom.”
“He wants to meet you,” Montana said. “I think I’m ready for him to meet you.” She watched Aurora for her reaction, and she clapped her hands together. Good sign.
Then she gasped and covered her mouth with her hands.