Home on the Ranch: The Montana Cowboy's Triplets

by Allison B. Collins

  All naked woman.

  In his cabin.

  He hadn’t felt anything like that since...

  Ever.

  Damn, damn, damn.

  He didn’t want to know she was beautiful. He didn’t want to know how brave she was, raising her younger brothers, and doing all those stunts. He didn’t want to know she’d affected his body this way.

  Sure, he liked women. But he was a full-time dad now, with kids he needed to focus on.

  So, no. He would not be pursuing the pretty lady from Scotland.

  Right?

  * * *

  Hunter woke with a start, his room pitch-dark. The blizzard howled outside, the noise reminding him of coyotes and wolves.

  Thunder boomed, and he jolted. It’d been a long time since they’d had a thunder snowstorm. He waited, listening for the sounds of his boys dashing to his room to pile in bed with him. It had become their routine any time it thundered.

  But no racing feet pounded across wooden floors. They couldn’t possibly be sleeping through all the noise. He reached for the switch on his lamp and turned it. Nothing happened. Grabbing the flashlight from his nightstand, he got up and put his robe on, shoved his feet into slippers.

  He walked into the family room. Weird lights and shadows caught his attention. Shining his light around the room, he saw blanket-covered lumps and bumps. A fort?

  Awesome.

  He and his brothers had created huge, elaborate forts back in their day. They’d gotten in trouble using sheets and blankets meant for the guests too many times to count. This one looked so awesome he wanted to get in and play.

  The crunch of chips echoed from inside the fort. The boys knew better than to eat snacks without asking first.

  “No way. There aren’t any ghosts.”

  “Oh, aye. There are, Cody.”

  Mackenzie’s voice. What was she doing out here? And with his sons? A little fist of jealousy punched him square in the chest. Sure, she was a novelty, a guest in their home. But he was their dad, and he wanted to be there for his kids. The one they turned to when they were happy or sad, scared or excited.

  But what if he wasn’t enough? He woke up every morning with the bone-deep fear he would fail them.

  “Have you ever seen ’em?”

  “Of course. Scotland is an ancient land. There’re ghosties everywhere. When I was a wee lass, my family lived practically at the base of Urquhart Castle, overlooking Loch Ness. Me and my brothers explored every inch of the castle, ghosts and all.”

  “How many are there? Are they mean?” Eli’s voice squeaked.

  “Dozens and dozens. They’d float and flit through the castle, moaning and screaming, so you couldn’t count them all.”

  Hunter grinned. Her voice lowered into spooky tones, and her accent thickened as she told her story.

  “Did you go in the castle?”

  “Och, aye. I wasna’ afraid of some ghosties. Until that one dreadful day that my brothers dared me to go in all alone...and spend the night.”

  “No way!” Eli squeaked.

  “Nuh-uh!” Tripp scoffed, but Hunter knew he was loving the story.

  “Cool!” That had to be his bloodthirsty Cody.

  “What happened next?”

  “Well—” she lowered her voice even more, and Hunter leaned forward to listen “—I crept in at midnight, with just a blanket and a candle. I made it into the keep with no troubles. I started going up the old stone steps when I heard it.”

  “What?” Eli’s voice was pitched high, as if the spirit in Mackenzie’s story had goosed him.

  “The first ghost whooshed down the staircase at me. I ducked, and it flew over my head. A second ghost came right after it, and I swear it flew straight through my body. It was so frightful cold, my fingers turned blue! Then it turned right around and came at me again, screaming and moaning my name.”

  One of the boys squealed, and Hunter felt left out, wanted to join the fun. He crept forward and yanked up the blanket, sticking his flashlight under his chin. “Boo!”

  The boys screamed, and even Mackenzie squeaked.

  “Can I come in and play?” He glanced at her. He hadn’t seen her since he’d accidentally stared at her through the bathroom window earlier. She’d made herself scarce at dinnertime.

  He’d thought he would feel awkward, but right this moment, he didn’t. Maybe because of the dark.

  But in the glow of all the flashlights, it looked like her cheeks were full-blown red.

  “Daddy, she’s telling us a ghost story.” Cody squirmed in his seat.

  Hunter crawled in. The only spot open was next to Mackenzie, and when he brushed her arm, she went rigid and leaned as far away from him as she could.

  Too bad.

  His house.

  His kids.

  His rules.

  Sure they could roughhouse. But there would be no adult games with Mackenzie.

  Period.

  He had to concentrate on the boys.

  Chapter 5

  Mackenzie woke up slow and snuggled closer to the heat source. Half her body felt warm, the other cold. Her brain started functioning, and she rubbed her head against the pillow.

  Only it wasn’t a pillow. It was a hard shoulder.

  Attached to a man.

  A warm man. In pajamas.

  His scent tickled her nose, and she wanted to snuggle into his bathrobe and breathe him in. Her eyes popped open.

  The image of seeing him outside the bathroom just as she was getting out of the tub the day before rampaged through her head. She’d grabbed the towel as soon as she saw him, but he had to have seen something.

  Oh, bugger it.

  She rolled off him, hoping she wouldn’t wake him up.

  His hand tightened around her shoulder, then he yanked his arm away from her so fast she fell backward onto the cushions.

  “Sorry,” he whispered.

  “I didn’t mean to fall asleep in here.”

  “Hey, you work hard, and it was a long day, late night.”

  She looked at the triplets sprawled across the cushions and smiled. They were really good boys, and she’d had a marvelous time with them the night before. But now she had to get moving. She crawled out of the fort and into the chilly living room. Weak light filtering through the tall windows meant it was still quite early, maybe still snowing.

  She really wanted to lock herself in her room. But with the power off, there was no comforting noise from the heater, and it was freezing in the cabin. She stared at the fireplace, the logs waiting in the bin nearby. The matches sat on the mantel, high enough the boys couldn’t get to them.

  The boys. They’d need some warmth as soon as they got up. She hesitated, then rubbed her arms up and down to quell the prickles. Living in LA, she hadn’t had to worry about building fires. Here? A different story.

  But she couldn’t let this newfound fear of flames scare her the rest of her life. She was a professional—she would face her fears and do the stunt...with a lot of prayers beforehand. Taking a deep breath, she reached for a log to place on the ashes.

  Hunter crawled out behind her. “I’ll get it going.” He held his hand out for the log.

  “I’ll take care of it.” She moved the log away from him, intent on proving to herself she could do it.

  “You’re my guest, I’ll do it.” He pulled at the other end of the log.

  “You’re kind enough to put me up in your home. I can build the fire.”

  “Do you know how?”

  “Of course I do. I grew up in the Scottish Highlands. I learned at a wee age.” Now he’d gone and made her crabbit. She yanked, and the wood slid along her palm, a sharp splinter piercing it. She let go, jerking back. Examining the skin, she spied the offending splinter, blood oozing around it.


  “What happened?” He leaned forward and took her hand in his—his very warm, rough, masculine hand.

  “Just a splinter.” She took a few steps back and tried to breathe again. He was all rumpled and drowsy and very attractive. Too attractive.

  “See? You should have let me do it. Come in the kitchen, I have a first-aid kit.”

  She remembered her da digging in her palm with a pocketknife. She jerked her hand behind her. “No.”

  “What’s wrong? Scared of a little iodine?” He grinned at her.

  “Don’t be daft. It’s just a little splinter.”

  “At least let me get you tweezers and alcohol to clean it out.”

  “Oh, fine.” She blew her hair out of her eyes. They walked toward the kitchen, and she glanced in the mirror. Curls sprang up everywhere, and a crease marred her cheek. She rubbed at it, then tried to smooth her wayward hair. She may not be attracted to the arrogant man, but she darn sure didna’ want him to think her a fright.

  He lit a couple of oil lanterns and some candles. Then he pointed at a stool beside the counter, and she sat. Opening a cabinet door, he pulled a white first-aid box out and handed it to her.

  She took care of the splinter while he got the fire going again in the other room. Setting the tweezers down, she looked around the kitchen, noting the homey touches. Lighter wood cabinets, granite counters, and children’s drawings covered the fridge. A big table sat in a bay window alcove with bench seating and chairs with bright cushions.

  He walked back into the kitchen a few minutes later. “How did you end up with my kids in a fort?”

  “I’d gotten up for some water, and they came racing downstairs. Cody said the other two were scared of the thunder, and that just escalated into fisticuffs. Then the power snapped out. So I told them we could build a fort and camp out by the fireplace. I hope you don’t mind.”

  He pulled a bag of coffee beans out of the cabinet. “Nah. They usually find me during storms. I haven’t wanted to tell them not to.” His voice turned a wee bit gruff.

  “Your boys are pure brilliant. You and their mother have done well by them.”

  “Their mom was great with them. We divorced when they were a year old and shared custody as much as possible. They’re all her.”

  “I see a lot of you in them.”

  He looked up at her, and the hope on his face surprised her.

  “You really are doing a bang-up job with them. It’s tough raising children after a loss.” She hoped he believed her. “I can tell they know they’re loved.”

  “I’ve had a lot of help from my family.”

  She opened her mouth to ask more about them, then realized he was making coffee in an electric pot. “When did the power come back on?”

  “I turned the generator on.”

  “So we have power now?”

  “Yeah.” He looked at her—the duh, clearly implied.

  “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  He grinned. “More fun playing it’s still off—kind of like camping out.”

  Despite herself, she laughed. A chime sounded from her phone, and she pulled it out to read a text from the production assistant. “Looks like I get a snow day today. Production is still shut down.”

  Hunter looked out the windows, and she followed his gaze. Snow still fell from the sky at an alarming pace. At this rate, they’d have to reschedule the scenes where she would ride across the valley.

  “Looks like we’re all in for a snow day.” Hunter grinned, and she swore his expression was a cross between a schoolboy intent on making mischief—and a grown man intent on making mischief...with a woman.

  The wind whistled through the trees, echoing in the rafters of the cabin. Icy tremors skipped along her neck, and she pulled her robe up higher. “I’ll be back in a tick.”

  She popped up from the stool, causing it to screech across the floor. Passing by the fort where the kids still slept, she hurried to the opposite side of the cabin to her temporary room. She closed the door and leaned against it. Why was her heart beating so fast?

  Hunter had a way of looking at her like she was the only woman on earth. He’d flirt with her in the morning, then flirt with Carley in the afternoon. He was just a natural born flirt. It was his way; it didn’t mean anything.

  She needed to keep that knowledge front and center. It wouldn’t do to get too involved and end up with a broken heart again.

  She didn’t need a man.

  Especially some flirty cowboy from Montana.

  So she’d laugh, maybe flirt back a little. But when the job on this film ended, so would her relationship—no, not relationship. Flirtation.

  Hunter scooped the last pancake off the stove as Mackenzie walked back in dressed in jeans and a blue sweater, her hair pulled back in a ponytail. Too bad. She’d looked cute in her pajamas and robe, her red hair wild.

  Now her armor was back on, shielding her marshmallow insides. And the trim body he’d seen the day before. He’d had more than one dream about her last night—especially after she’d snuggled up to him while she slept in the fort.

  But she was a guest in his home, a paying guest on their ranch. Besides, she was as prickly as a cactus, and he didn’t want to get stabbed. Best just to forget about her body. Not like they could do anything with three miniature chaperones underfoot anyway.

  “Breakfast is ready.” He set the pancakes down on the kitchen table with a flourish. One of the few meals he could actually prepare without trouble. He pulled a chair out opposite the bench seat and held it for her.

  Mackenzie hesitated, and he cocked his head, waiting till she finally moved forward and sat.

  Looked like her skittishness had come back. He wondered if it was all men, or just him that made her so shy. And why? Had someone hurt her in the past?

  He passed the platter around, made sure Tripp didn’t take too many, and that Eli had enough. The syrup bottle made its way around in silence, and as he took it from Mackenzie, their fingers touched. An electric shock so big he could see it sparked between their fingers, and she jerked back.

  “What was that?” She rubbed the back of her hand.

  “Dry air?” He felt as surprised as she looked.

  Their eyes collided for a brief moment. The boys started shoving each other, fighting over the last pancakes.

  She ate in silence, but he wanted to draw her out for some reason. It wasn’t often he couldn’t charm a woman.

  Not that he intended it to go anywhere. “Is Mackenzie a family name?”

  “Aye. My grandmother’s maiden name.”

  He thought back to the night before, the stories she’d been telling. “You said you grew up near Loch Ness?”

  She nodded.

  “Did you ever see the Loch Ness Monster?” He pitched his voice louder over the boys’ ruckus.

  They immediately stopped shoving and shouting, and stared at Mackenzie.

  Eli’s hand jerked sideways, and left a trail of syrup from his plate to the table. “What monster? Where?”

  “In Scotland, where Miss Mackenzie grew up,” Hunter told them.

  “Where’s Scotland?” Cody mumbled around a mouthful of pancake.

  “Well now, lad, it’s all the way across the globe from here.”

  “How about if we get the big map out later and she can show you?” Hunter wiped syrup off the table.

  “There’s monsters in Scotland?” Tripp asked, impatient with the geography lesson on a snow day.

  “Aye, there are.” Mackenzie took another bite of pancake.

  “No there’s not,” Tripp said. The oldest by six minutes, he took his role very seriously. Always the first to shout hogwash.

  “I’ve seen Nessie with my very own eyes.” She opened her eyes extra wide.

  “What’s it look like?” Cody asked.


  “She’s a giant creature, like a monstrous big snake or a dinosaur, only she lives in the loch near my home.”

  “What’s a loch?” Eli asked.

  “Loch is Scottish for lake. The legend goes way back, over a thousand years to the very first sighting of Nessie in the waters. Rumor has it a farmer got too close, and Nessie snatched him right up and ate him.” She shoved a bite of bacon in her mouth and made chomping noises.

  Hunter realized he’d leaned forward as much as the boys. Her accent thickened as she spoke. Mackenzie had a real knack for storytelling.

  “One day I was walking home from school. It was cold and blustery, and the wind ripped my hat right off my head, sent it winging down to the loch. I gave my books to my brother Fergus and chased after it. The closer I got to the loch, the darker and spookier it got.”

  Every eye around the table was glued to Mackenzie.

  “Just as I reached the rocks at the shoreline, the water started churning and bubbling, like a witch’s cauldron. Up rose a head, higher, higher, higher, then a very long neck, almost like a giant sea snake. The scales were dark green, and so shiny they hurt my eyes. Nessie turned and looked at me, her eyes glittering.”

  “Then what?” Cody asked, impatient for the gory details.

  “My hat blew right over the water, all the way up, until it hit Nessie right smack on the nose. My da had paid good money for that hat, and I didn’t want to leave it behind. He’d be fierce mad at me for losing it.”

  The boys were quiet for once, hanging on every word.

  “But Nessie looked so ferocious, I’d frozen like a block of ice, too scared to go after it. Then her mouth opened and she roared, louder than all the lions in Africa. Her teeth were like sharp spikes of steel, and seaweed and water dripped from her jaw. She roared again, and I turned and ran as fast as I could, all the way home.”

  “Did she chase you?” Cody asked.

  Mackenzie shook her head. “Nay, not that day. But you know what happened the next morning? I got ready for school and opened the door. And there, hooked on the fence post—can you guess what it was?”

  “A dead fish?” Eli asked.

  She leaned forward. “Nope. Even spookier.”