The Rancher's Proposal (The Montana McGregor Brothers Book 3)

by Paula Altenburg

  “Then next time, I suggest you make a few friends of your own, because right now, according to the guy with the badge over there”—Zack motioned to Dan—“the law doesn’t care whose friend the judge was. The paperwork is valid.”

  “Is that what you want?” Trevor demanded of Posey. “To go back to court? Because my lawyer tells me you might not be so lucky next time.”

  So that was his plan. He was going to use the money she’d already given him to extort more out of her. Zack guessed her uncle had seen this development coming, but she’d been too anxious to be done with her marriage to listen to reason. Protecting the money had never been her concern. She hadn’t seen it as a weapon, either.

  It killed him to think of how lonely and vulnerable she must have been to be taken in by someone like this. She really did need someone looking after her interests, because she didn’t have it in her to see the worst in other people.

  “We can work out an agreement that lets you see your daughter without getting the court involved,” Zack said. Posey made a small noise of protest. He held up a hand, motioning for her to let him finish. “Under my supervision, though. You won’t get to see Posey again.”

  Zack saw the fist coming at him long before it had any chance of connecting. He ducked. It swung harmlessly over his head. As he straightened, he unleashed a more accurate blow of his own. It connected with the side of the other man’s chin.

  Trevor’s head swiveled around. His eyes rolled back in his head. He dropped to his knees before pitching forward. His forehead hit the asphalt with a loud, cracking noise. Zack heard Posey scream.

  A car door slammed and feet ran toward him.

  “That’s enough,” Dan the sheriff, not Dan his friend, commanded. “He’s down.”

  Zack looked up at the porch, checking to see if Posey was okay. Her face was white. She pivoted on her heel. The front door crashed shut behind her.

  Jake knelt next to the man on the ground. Trevor was groggily shaking his head and trying to get to his feet with little success.

  “That went about as well as I expected,” Jake said to no one.

  *

  Posey refused to open the door for Zack, so later, once they’d gone back to the ranch, Jake asked Lacey to go check on her and make sure she was okay.

  Lacey, an elementary school teacher, was one of Zack’s favorite people. She weighed in on the small side when compared to the McGregors, but what she lacked in physical size she more than made up for in fierceness. She had no trouble holding her own against Jake.

  She loved Jake, too. She made him almost human. That was what made Zack adore her. His brother deserved the best, and Lacey was that.

  Lacey was gone several hours.

  “Posey’s fine,” she reported when she finally returned. “She’s really angry with you, though,” she said to Zack. “You’ve got some serious apologizing to do.”

  “Want to give me a hint as to what, exactly, I should apologize for?”

  Because if it was for punching Trevor, that wouldn’t happen.

  “Don’t help him,” Jake warned her. “Make him figure it out on his own. The lesson sticks better that way.”

  “Maybe wait until tonight before you try talking to her again,” Lacey said. “Once it gets dark she won’t want to be alone.”

  She had a point there.

  Zack waited until after Trixie’s bedtime, then walked down.

  Posey sat in the swing on the porch with a blanket wrapped around her. Light from the kitchen spilled onto the ground. The night was chilly, which made the stars appear all that much brighter.

  She didn’t look at him when he sat down beside her. She didn’t speak to him, either.

  “So,” he said, setting the conversational ball into motion, “you really believed that guy was into Russian literature, huh?”

  She freed her arm from her cocoon and shoved at his shoulder. “I’m angry with you.”

  “So I heard. Go ahead and hit me if it makes you feel better.”

  “How would hitting you make me feel better?” she demanded.

  Fire spit from her eyes. He was thrilled to see it in her. This was the way a fairy princess should be—lovely, otherworldly, and above everything else, strong.

  She was all of those things.

  “Maybe it would make me feel better, then,” he said.

  The fire fizzled out.

  “I can’t do this,” she said softly. “I can’t live with violence again.”

  Fear gnawed at his stomach. She couldn’t possibly mean what it sounded like. “Do you honestly believe I’d ever hurt you or Trixie?”

  “Of course not.”

  The fear faded. Still, her answer came a little too slow for his liking. “I’m not going to lie to you and say I’m sorry for hitting him. He swung at me first.”

  “Only because you goaded him into it.”

  “Yeah,” Zack said. “It felt good, too. I’m not sorry for that, either.”

  “That’s what bothers me. You don’t care that you hurt him.”

  “You’re right. I don’t. I care that he hurt you and Trixie. Now he knows he won’t get to do it again. I’ll teach him that lesson as many times as I have to.”

  Posey huddled inside her blanket. “You don’t get to fight my battles for me. I’ll do my own fighting in court, if I have to.”

  “Okay,” Zack said.

  She rested her chin on her bent knees and stared at him, her solemn eyes fixed on his face. “That’s it? That’s all you’ve got to say?”

  “What else is there? When the battlefield’s equal, you can do your own fighting. Just don’t think for a moment that I’m going to stand aside and allow him to intimidate or insult you. He sure as hell won’t get another chance to touch you or Trixie.”

  She gave that some thought. “Would you really supervise his visits with her so I didn’t have to?”

  “Damn straight. I don’t trust him with you so why would I trust him with a child?”

  “I love you,” she said.

  The stars spun in the sky. Zack scooted over and wrapped his arm around her. “Then do you want to tell me what you’re really angry about?”

  She rested her cheek against his chest. “I’m angry because I was scared. You kept poking at him and I thought he was going to hurt you.”

  He kissed the top of her head. “There was no way that guy could hurt me.”

  “He managed to hurt me,” she pointed out quietly.

  The barb lodged in his heart. She’d been more afraid for him than herself. He’d never considered that possibility. His dad’s rule about fighting in front of women suddenly made a whole lot more sense.

  Jake was right. Figuring it out for himself really did make the lesson stick better.

  “I’ve changed my mind. I’m sorry,” he said. He meant it.

  She wriggled free of the blanket and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I want to get married right away. I don’t want to wait any longer than necessary to start on a little sister for Trixie.”

  “We’ll get married as soon as we can arrange it,” he said. He slid his hands inside her jacket and under her sweater. Her skin was smooth and warm to his touch. “As for giving Trixie a little sister, who says we have to wait any longer?”

  Epilogue

  February was turning out to be one of the coldest on record.

  Zack left his barn coveralls on a hook in the garage and stepped into the warmth of the kitchen. When spring arrived, he and Posey would renovate the garage and turn it into a heated laundry room with a shower so he wouldn’t have to bring his work clothes into the house.

  McGregor operations were growing. Working for Weldon Scott wasn’t the easiest job he’d ever held, but the payoff in the end would be worth it. In five years, he’d be in charge of the Running River Ranch end of operations. The Wagging Tongue was going to expand the biomass power plant to include it. Luke, the boy genius, would oversee that.

  The McGregor clan was growing, t
oo. Luke and Mara were enjoying their honeymoon with their newborn son. He was sad his parents and sister weren’t going to get to meet all the new additions, but he and his brothers tried not to dwell on it. Life really did go on—and at a dizzying pace.

  At least his mom had gotten to meet Posey. She stirred a pot at the stove, her five-month pregnant belly already getting in the way and making it difficult for her to move. They’d gotten married at Thanksgiving. The baby was due in June. The doctor said they were having another girl. It didn’t matter to Zack. Posey either, although she remained opposed to the name Bennie.

  Meanwhile, Jake and Lacey were planning their wedding for July. They had three children to care for already and weren’t in a hurry to add to the count, especially with Lacey still teaching. Posey usually took Lydia and Trixie to the preschool with her. She liked running the preschool, but planned to take the summer off to stay at home with Trixie and the new baby.

  Zack slipped up behind his wife, nuzzled her neck with his cold lips, and rubbed a hand over her stomach. She looked even more beautiful pregnant. Good thing it suited her, too. He had star names already picked out for the next seven girls.

  “Uncle Bart called,” Posey said, leaning into his embrace. “He’s flying into Billings for a few days next week. Weather permitting, we’ll meet him for dinner.”

  Bart and Zack had hit it off, to the surprise of both men. Bart Davies wasn’t a warm individual by any stretch of the imagination, but it was obvious he cared about his niece and her daughter. Zack’s eagerness to sign a prenup had gone a long way, too.

  But Bart was an old man and he was ready to give up managing Posey’s assets for her. The trip to Billings was the first step in handing the responsibility over to Zack, and there were legalities involved, because at Bart’s insistence, Zack would draw a salary for it. It wasn’t out of generosity. A salary kept Zack in a management position, without any entitlement to the assets themselves. He was fine with that. He’d make his own fortune.

  Bart was wily when it came to handling Trevor’s demands, too. Posey’s paperwork had, indeed, stood up in court. A countersuit claiming harassment and extortion had squashed any further demands.

  Adoption papers for Zack to sign had quickly followed. Posey and Trixie were his. He’d take far better care of them, too.

  “I’d better go take a shower,” he said.

  Posey turned down the heat under the pot, then shifted around in his arms so she faced him. “Trixie’s at the ranch, playing with Lydia,” she said. “One of us has to go pick her up before dinner.”

  “I’ll do it. But first, maybe you’d like to join me upstairs for that shower.” He waggled his eyebrows.

  Posey’s gray eyes went soft. She stretched on her toes to give him a kiss. “I don’t care what you say. You can’t make me more pregnant.”

  He tightened his hold. She was warm and soft and all his. He couldn’t believe his good fortune. Who needed money when he had this?

  “You’ve got it wrong. What I keep saying is that there’s no harm in trying.”

  Her sweet smile of response wrapped him in love. It spilled from her eyes. She had so much of it to give, she couldn’t keep it contained.

  He knew just how that felt.

  “No. I suppose there isn’t, is there?” she said.

  The End

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  Thanks for reading The Rancher’s Proposal by Paula Altenburg!

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  If you enjoyed The Rancher’s Proposal, you’ll love the other books in….

  The Montana McGregor Brothers series

  Book 1: The Rancher Takes a Family

  Buy now!

  Book 2: The Rancher’s Secret Love

  Buy now!

  Book 3: The Rancher’s Proposal

  View the series here!

  Enjoy an excerpt from

  The Rancher Takes a Family

  Paula Altenburg

  Book 1 in the Montana McGregor Brothers series

  Keep reading below or buy now!

  So far, of his sister’s three offspring, Lydia was shaping up to be Jake McGregor’s favorite.

  She nestled in the crook of his arm, a soggy thumb in her mouth, staring in wide-eyed awe at her two older brothers. One chubby fist clutched a handful of Jake’s hair. Ten-year-old Mac was swinging his backpack with a careless disregard for the backs of the heads of his fellow passengers as he tried to hurl it into the open bin overhead.

  But it was five-year-old Finn who had people begging flight attendants if they could switch flights or relocate to the back of the plane. Jake could literally feel the love. Or maybe all that love was for him, because he was carrying the squalling kid by the back of his jacket like a spare suitcase.

  To add icing to the cake, he hadn’t been able to snag four seats together—he’d had to buy Lyddie her own even though she wasn’t yet two—and now he faced a conundrum. He’d thought to put Mac and Finn together while he took an aisle seat and parked the baby by the window, but logistically, it wasn’t going to work. Not with Finn wailing like a banshee and trying his best to escape whenever his sneakers touched down.

  So this is hell.

  Dull pain circled his eye sockets and banged against the top of his skull. He should have taken preboarding when it was offered, but hindsight was a wonderful thing. He was new to this child-raising gig and he’d thought it best to keep the boys running around the terminal as long as possible before they had to sit still for a few hours, but the joke was on him. They hadn’t burned off any energy. It turned out these two were kinetic.

  They were also tired, and scared, and their whole world had been upended two weeks ago when their parents and grandparents—who also happened to be Jake’s sister, brother-in-law, mom, and dad—were all killed in a plane crash in Peru.

  Maybe taking them on a plane wasn’t his smartest move, but he hadn’t known how else to get three kids from New York City to Grand, Montana. Hindsight slapped him again. Too soon, Jake. Too soon.

  Mac missed the bin for the third time and was winding up for a fourth attempt when an older gentleman got out of his seat to give him a hand. A friendly blonde flight attendant scooted around them, Jake in her sights.

  “Why don’t you let me hold the baby while you get the boys buckled in?” she suggested, reaching for Lydia. “Come here, sweetie.”

  Lydia’s thumb popped out of her mouth. Her eyes bugged out of her head. She grabbed onto both of Jake’s ears. Then, she proceeded to compete with her brother to see who could deafen the most people. There went her tenuous run as the favorite.

  Jake felt like crying himself. He was tired and scared too, yet nobody was cutting him any slack.

  “I don’t wanna die!” Finn wailed, upping his game.

  “That child could use a good spanking,” some old biddy sniffed.

  The flight attendant knew when she was beaten. “Why don’t I go see if I can find some coloring books for the boys?” she said, and then fled.

  Jake’s face burned. This mess was on him. What kind of dumbass tried to load three kids who’d just lost their parents in a plane crash onto a sketchy Dash 8 that smelled of exhaust and recycled air and looked as if duct tape might be all that held it together?

  Suddenly, he’d had enough, too. He owed these kids better than this.

  “Grab the bag, Mac,” he ordered, fighting to keep his grip on Finn while juggling a sobbing, drippy-nosed baby who was wiping her face in his hair. “We’re getting off.”

  *

  Five days later, as the sun slid behind the cottonwoods, Jake crossed the Custer County line and entered the outskirts of Grand, Montana. The knot between his shoulders began to let up.

  Just a few more miles.

  Grand hugged the banks of the Yellowstone River. The first McGregors to settle here had been Ir
ish sutlers evicted from a British fort for selling whiskey to soldiers. The two enterprising brothers took the money they’d earned and invested it in cattle—although, according to family legend, they never quite managed to stay on the right side of the law. Whiskey barrels continued to overflow in the McGregor cellars well into the twentieth century.

  Grand got its name from the plans those two brothers had dreamed up for the town. Unfortunately, Grand got upstaged by nearby Billings and its grip on the new railroad. For his part, Jake was happy with the way history played out. Grand’s population topped out at ten thousand—a nice, even number.

  The minute he entered town limits and veered onto Yellowstone Drive, his stress leveled off.

  Yellowstone Drive crossed the Tongue River, a tributary that fed into the Yellowstone, then circled left on the far side to become Tongue River Road, which cut through the McGregor ranch. Jake’s rental car bumped across the bridge, then a few minutes later, over the slight dip in the pavement where the driveway leading to the Wagging Tongue Ranch met the road.

  A sprawling, six-thousand-square-foot ranch house fronted the river. The house yawned, showing its age. Pieces had been added on over the decades to accommodate adult children who’d bought in and grandparents who’d sold out. The result was a behemoth, hard to heat in the winter but airy and fresh in the summer. There was nothing this home hadn’t seen.

  The lights were on when he coasted up to the garage. A warm yellow glow bathed the front porch and the yard. For a few glorious seconds, Jake felt as if life had returned to normal, and he’d open the door to the kitchen to find his mother standing at the stove. He imagined her making sausage chili with biscuits and homemade lemon custard pie for dessert.

  That was never going to happen again so it was best to forget it.

  Still, he was starving. He hoped Luke and Zack, his two younger brothers, had learned how to cook in the four or five years since they’d hauled ass out of Grand and left the McGregor homestead behind. The funeral in New York was the first time he’d seen either one of them in close to six months, but now, they were back home to help out. They’d gone on ahead of him so they could set up rooms for themselves and the kids.