by Liz Isaacson
“What?” Montana asked.
“If he wants to meet me, you must’ve been dating him for a while.”
Montana shrugged, knowing she wouldn’t get anything by Aurora. “I mean, sort of. A while now. Maybe a month or so. Five weeks.”
“Mom, you’ve only been up at that ranch for six weeks.”
“Yes, well, he’s very handsome.”
Aurora pealed out a string of laughter that made Montana’s joy double and then triple. She let her carry on for a few seconds, and then she said, “I’m glad you’re so happy about it. We’re going up to the ranch for lunch on Sunday. It’s his birthday tomorrow, and I’m going out with him. You’ll meet him then.”
Aurora quieted. “Not tomorrow, Mom. I’m going to the roller rink, remember?”
“Right,” she said. “I meant Sunday.”
“Oh, Sunday, okay,” she said. “I’m excited. Do you have any pictures of him?”
“Uh, maybe.” Neither Montana nor Bishop took many pictures, of one another or themselves. She swiped on her phone, her memory firing. “He did send me one of him while he was picking out curtains to see what I thought.” She navigated to the photo, a smile taking over her soul as she looked at him.
He had the curtain draped around his shoulders like a fancy fur stole, and he wore a look of playful worry on his face. She turned the phone toward Aurora, who took it and studied the picture of Bishop with sparkling eyes.
“Mom,” she said, gasping. “He’s gorgeous.” She handed the phone back to Montana. “Okay, I have to get out there. Those two barely know how to read.” She grinned and picked up the plate of cookies. Before Montana knew what was going on, Aurora had gone out the back door while Montana was still looking at the picture of Bishop.
“Wait,” she said, but her daughter was gone. “What was the other thing?” she asked anyway, having the very real feeling that her daughter had just tricked her by getting her talking about Bishop.
“Clever girl,” she muttered, turning back to the sink. It was full of dishes and utensils she’d used to make the cookies. No wonder she hated baking, and she braced herself against the counter.
“Dear Lord,” she prayed. “Help me to navigate things with Aurora. Please, please help her to be safe. Help her to be smart.” Montana paused, because she didn’t know what else to say. Her desperation tasted bitter in the back of her throat, and surely the Lord could feel that and know what Montana needed for her daughter.
Because Oliver Osburn was very cute, and she didn’t believe for a moment that he couldn’t read. He was smart too. Otherwise, Aurora wouldn’t be attracted to him.
Montana made a deal with herself—she had to do the dishes before she could migrate over to the window and spy on her daughter with the two teenage boys in the back yard.
“Okay,” Montana said, pulling up to the homestead. At least half a dozen extra trucks sat in the parking area out front, and her nerves started to sizzle.
“Wow, Montana,” Aunt Jackie said. “Look at this house.”
“It’s a mansion,” Uncle Bob said. “I’d heard the Glovers had rebuilt their homestead. I just didn’t realize how big it was.”
“Three of them live here,” Montana said, feeling the need to defend them all. She wasn’t even sure why. Aunt Jackie and Uncle Bob weren’t judgmental people, and neither of them really had to deal with the Glovers all that much.
If Montana were being honest with herself, she’d started thinking about living out here at this ranch too. Then her aunt and uncle would have more of a reason to see the Glovers more often.
She pushed those thoughts away. It was barely May, and Aurora had been right when she’d said Montana and Bishop had started dating almost the moment she’d been hired here, and not very much time had passed since then.
Not even two months yet.
“Mom,” Aurora said from the back seat. “You didn’t say he was rich.”
“Well, they are,” Montana said. “They’re all rich, okay?” She turned and glared at her aunt, and then Uncle Bob and Aurora in the back seat. “Does it really matter?”
“Not at all,” Uncle Bob said easily. “The Glovers are good people.”
“Bear bought all that food for everyone last year,” Aunt Jackie said. “And Stone Glover used to sponsor the entire Shop for Santa event every year.”
“That’s Bishop’s father,” Montana said. “Can we all agree just one more time that we’re going to be on our best behavior?”
“Yes,” all three of them chorused together, and Montana couldn’t tell if Aurora was being snarky or not.
“There will be a lot of people here,” Montana said, still looking at the house. “We’re nice people too. It will be fine.” Properly pumped up, she unbuckled her seatbelt and got out of the truck. The rest of her family joined her, and she took the card and small gift she’d gotten for Bishop from Aunt Jackie.
“Don’t worry, darling,” her aunt said, smiling kindly at Montana. “I’ve taken Uncle Bob to parties before, and he’s very charming.”
Montana laughed and that got her nerves to settle down. She climbed the steps and found a note on the door that said just come in. We might not hear the door.
So she turned the knob and stepped into the house. “Kitchen this way,” she said unnecessarily. The noise coming from the kitchen would’ve told a deaf person where the party was. By the round of laughter filling the rafters, Montana estimated them to be the last to arrive, but when she led the way into the kitchen, she found only a few people.
Bishop stood in the kitchen, a knife in his hand as he laughed. He was gorgeous and glorious, that was for sure. Montana smiled just looking at him, her people pressing in behind her.
“Bish,” Ranger said, smiling at Montana. He stepped away from his brothers and came toward her. “Hey, Montana. I’m so glad you could make it.” He gave her a quick hug, which sent surprise through her, and looked at her family. She stepped next to him, turning her back on the party.
“This is my aunt and uncle, Jackie and Bob Kent.”
“I know Ranger,” Uncle Bob said, adding a hearty laugh and a handshake. Montana relaxed, because Uncle Bob did know a lot of people. Her aunt and uncle had lived in Three Rivers for a long time, and so had the Glovers.
A hand slid along her back, and Montana tipped her head back to look at her boyfriend. “Hey,” she said, smiling.
He looked down at her, anxiety in those delightful eyes. “Hey.”
She turned back to her family. “Everyone, this is Bishop Glover, my boyfriend. Bishop.” She took a breath, glad her voice had remained steady and strong. “My aunt and uncle, Jackie and Bob Kent.” She hadn’t even been able to introduce her daughter to Ranger, and she stalled as she looked at her beautiful girl.
“And my daughter, Aurora.” She extended her hand toward Aurora, who wore a little mascara and lip gloss today and practically glowed as she stepped over to Montana.
“Aurora,” Bishop said, the name perfect rolling off his tongue. “So nice to meet you.”
“You too,” she said, shaking his hand. “You really are as gorgeous as my mom said you would be.”
“Aurora,” Montana said. She glanced at Bishop, “I didn’t say that. She did.”
“Hey, I’ll take it,” Bishop said with a laugh. “Now, don’t try to remember all the names.” He gestured everyone further into the kitchen, solidly securing his hand in Montana’s. She liked how he claimed her in front of everyone, and she was doubly grateful her family was there to see it.
“There are a lot of us, and my father and my uncle had a lot of the same characteristics. You met Ranger, my oldest cousin. This here is the youngest male cousin, Ace.”
“She’s got a gift for you, Bish,” Ace said, nodding to Montana’s hand.
“Oh, right,” she said, thrusting the gift toward Bishop. “Don’t be impressed. It’s nothing special.”
He took the gift, a sense of wonder entering his eyes. “I should’ve told you,�
� he said. “We don’t really do gifts.”
“Oh.” Montana’s face heated, as if this kitchen wasn’t already hot enough with all these bodies in it and something bubbling away on the stove. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“It’s fine.” He smiled down at her. “Can I open it later, though? Away from all of…this?”
“Bishop,” a woman called from the kitchen. “Your timer is going off.”
“Duty calls,” he said with a smile. He bent down and kissed her quickly before bustling off to take care of the timer.
Aunt Jackie and Uncle Bob had joined Ranger, Oakley, and Ace in conversation, and while Montana knew almost everyone here, she didn’t know where to go.
“Montana,” someone said, and she turned toward Sammy.
She smiled and said, “Come let me see your pretty daughter.”
Relief rushed through Montana, and she joined Sammy and her son, Lincoln, on one of the couches, Aurora right at her side. As she chatted with Sammy, then surprisingly, Arizona, Montana had a glimpse of what her future could look like.
Bishop in the kitchen while she tried to find a place for her and her daughter to belong.
At Aunt Jackie’s, they already belonged, and Montana worked to keep her smile hitched in place.
Chapter Fifteen
Bishop kept one eye on Montana as he finished up with the hot chicken dip. He’d tried to get out of cooking for his own blasted birthday luncheon, but Etta wouldn’t have it.
He’d been thinking about who he could set her up with for days, as Ida had bowed out of cooking because she’d rather spend time with Brady. She’d cooked for Christmas while he was there, and she hadn’t liked it.
Bishop knew exactly how she felt, and he quickly got out three bags of chips and took off his apron. “I’m done,” he said. “You’re leading the show.”
“Bishop,” Etta said, clearly frustrated.
“I’m not announcing my own birthday, Etta,” he growled. “Okay?”
She frowned, but she nodded. “Okay. Go on. I know this is about Montana and not lunch.”
“This is the first time I’ve met her daughter,” Bishop said. “I said two words to her, with twenty other people yelling nearby.” He watched them laugh with Sammy and when Arizona sat beside Aurora, Bishop sucked in a breath.
“Go,” Etta said. “I have a bad feeling about that.”
“Yep.” Bishop strode through the kitchen, dodging cousins and brothers, a dog, and Oakley’s yowling cat before he reached Aurora and Montana. “Hey.” He sat beside her and took her hand, then looked at Aurora. “Your mother says you’re interested in writing.”
“Yes.” Aurora smiled at him, and it was no wonder she had boys interested in her. She was a beautiful girl, with plenty of that same blonde hair her mother had. “I’ve been working on a book for a couple of years.” She reached up and tucked her hair. “Do you write?”
“Heavens, no,” Bishop said. “But my father did. He was always scrawling something in some notebook.” He grinned at her. “I picked up woodworking from my dad. If you want to talk to someone with the writing gene, you want Mister there.” He nodded to his brother on the end of the other couch, who was currently talking to Preacher.
Aurora followed his gaze. “Which one? The one in the brown hat or the slightly browner hat?” She looked at Bishop and then her mother, giggling all the while.
“Oh, boy,” Bishop said. “I see what we’ve got here.”
“What?” Montana asked, and her hand tightened in his.
“A real smarty pants,” he said, grinning at both of them. “The one in the browner hat.” Before he could call to Mister, Etta whistled, which only set people off more. The complaining about the piercing, shrill sound rose like a tidal wave, and Bishop’s heartbeat skipped a couple of beats.
“Well, settle down, you lot,” Etta said. “Then I wouldn’t have to do that.”
Bishop was glad he wasn’t standing in the kitchen, because there were a lot of sharp looks going in that direction.
“Happy birthday to Bishop,” Etta said with a smile. “Stand up now, Bish.”
“I’m fine,” he said, though he did stand up. “I didn’t make it around to everyone, though. Uh, most of you know Montana Martin. She works with me on all the construction around the ranch.” He’d released her hand, and she hadn’t stood up with him.
His throat felt as if he’d glued sand to it. “We’re dating, and she’s brought her daughter, Aurora and her aunt and uncle, Jackie and Bob Kent, to celebrate with us.” He smiled at her aunt and uncle across the room. “So be nice to them, okay? I’m trying to make a good impression.”
“Shouldn’t have invited them to a full family party, then,” someone said, almost like they were trying not to be heard, but definitely loud enough to be heard.
“Oh, stop it, Cactus,” Etta said as Bishop sat down. He wasn’t sure where Cactus was standing as he couldn’t see him right now. Part of him worried that he’d done something to upset his brother, and a strong prompting told him to get out to Cactus’s that day.
“Welcome, everyone,” Etta said brightly. “Since it’s Bishop’s birthday—or it was on Friday—and he loves potatoes and good meat, we smoked brisket and made mashed potatoes and gravy, scalloped potatoes with extra cream, and fried potatoes with a bit of spice. There’s potato salad and potato chips, and Ida even brought potato rolls from Heidi’s.” She beamed at the spread of food on the counter.
Bishop couldn’t help grinning, and he retook Montana’s hand in his. He did love potatoes, and there was no reason not to eat them for every meal, though he did like that bacon peanut butter toast Montana had made for him once.
She’d told him once that she loved toast, and she dressed it up in different ways as often as she could. Something had happened at the cabin where they’d been working, and the conversation had been interrupted.
“I didn’t know you were such a potato freak,” Montana whispered, and Bishop shrugged as cowboy hats got removed, and Bear asked Judge to say the prayer.
He pressed his hat to his chest, his hand still secured in Montana’s, and looked at her until she bowed her head. Her silky hair fell between them, and all Bishop could think about was opening that tiny box she’d brought him and kissing her until she whispered that she better go find her daughter and get on home.
Then he’d kiss her again, just so she’d know that he didn’t like it when she left him here at Shiloh Ranch by himself.
He wasn’t sure where his feelings had come from, or how they’d gotten so strong so fast. He knew Montana was strong and sexy, kind and hardworking. She loved her daughter, and she loved wood, and she wanted to make her aunt and uncle happy.
“Amen,” everyone chorused, and Bishop tacked his on at the end, because he hadn’t been listening at all.
“Do we swarm or wait?” Montana asked.
“I’m going to swarm,” Aurora said, jumping to her feet. She went off on her own, and Montana looked after her.
“She’s great,” Bishop said. “She talks to people like she’s an adult.”
“She’s quite mature, yes,” Montana said, standing. Bishop went with her, and right behind the couch, he came face-to-face with Cactus. He knew the look, and he shook his head.
“I have to,” Cactus said.
“I’m coming by later then,” Bishop said.
Cactus reached up and pushed his hat forward and down. “You do what you have to do.”
“Will you let me in?” Bishop hadn’t had to ask to enter Cactus’s house for months now, and he felt like the whole world was spinning the wrong direction.
Pain radiated from Cactus, and Bishop leaned toward Montana. “I need five minutes. You go on ahead and just save me a spot, okay?”
She looked from Cactus to him, nodded, and followed her daughter, though Aurora had already been surrounded by Glovers.
Cactus stepped out the nearest door, and Bishop followed him. He didn’t know what to say, and some
times letting Cactus start the conversation was better.
But Cactus said nothing. They went away from the table under the shade and around the front of the house.
“You’ll bring me some cake later?” Cactus finally asked.
“Two pieces.” Bishop leaned against the railing. He let out a long sigh. “I’m worried I did something to upset you.”
“It’s not you,” Cactus said.
“Is it me dating Montana?”
“No, she’s great.”
“You just don’t want to be around it, because it makes you sad?”
“No.” Cactus bit the word out and then exhaled heavily. “It’s none of that. It’s just…I met a woman, and I really liked her.”
“Cactus, that’s great,” Bishop said.
“No, it’s not great,” he said. “I managed to get her number, though she didn’t give it to me. She said she’s not ready to start dating. Wants to get settled in first.”
Bishop thought of Ace, who was experiencing something similar. “Is this why you won’t go to town anymore?”
“No,” Cactus said. “I won’t go to town with specifically Ace, because he keeps throwing himself at that Holly Ann, and I think it’s pathetic.”
“Ouch, Cactus. Tell me how you really feel.” Bishop grinned at him, and Cactus softened slightly. Enough to come stand at the railing and lean against it too.
“I don’t want to do that,” he said softly. “I see how he acts around her, and what he does, and I don’t want to do that.”
“You can come to town with me.”
“You never go to town.”
“No, what I think you mean is I don’t track who the pastor is each week, and I go to church even if it isn’t Willa Knowlton.” He tensed, waiting for Cactus to whip him with his tongue, stomp off, and yell back to him not to come out to his cabin later.
It was a great testament to Cactus that he didn’t do any of the above. He did turn to stare at Bishop. “Dear Lord, is it that obvious?”
“It is to those of us watching you,” he said. “Ace actually told me. He’s worried about you too.”