Montana Hearts (4 page)

“I already figured as much.” Rio nuzzled his nose against Jace's side and he gave the horse's sleek neck an affectionate pat. A year ago the prospect of dropping out of a winning streak, giving up his chance at the championship, and holing up in Montana would have aggravated him to no end, but lately he'd found himself thinking he might need a vacation. “I guess we'll head back to Arizona and catch up on some sleep. Get ourselves some decent home-­cooked meals.”

Maybe he'd even look into buying his own ranch.

The doctor shot him a hesitant look. “Rio will need stall rest for several weeks before it's safe to travel.”

Jace hesitated. “Weeks?”

“You can trailer him to a nearby stable, but I wouldn't recommend you take him all the way to Arizona until he regains some of his strength. A long trailer ride bouncing along the highway could do even more harm to the affected area. Maybe damage his leg permanently.”

“Can't he stay here until he's ready to leave?”

The doctor shook his head. “Our stalls are limited and I need the space for other incoming patients. How about your mother's place or your friend Bucky's?”

Jace shook his head. “Bucky's family doesn't have a stable. And my mother sold our ranch years ago and bought a house in town. It's perfect for her, but there's no room for horses.”

“That's too bad.” Frowning, the doctor said, “I can give you some names, but the number of stables out here are few. Most ranchers keep their horses outside in the fields, not in stalls. However, I'm sure that if you drop your name they will make room for you.”

In other words, use his fame. Jace glanced at Rio's swollen leg and then up into his trusted rodeo pal's eyes. “I'll do whatever is best for the horse.”

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noisy dining room of the main house and searched the scores of ­people sitting at the rectangular tables for a familiar face. She found only a few. The new guests for the week had arrived, and had apparently brought their appetites along with them. Her mother and grandma stood behind the serving counter, along with the seventeen-­year-­old Walford twins, dishing out portions of roast beef, fried chicken, mashed potatoes, biscuits, and gravy onto pinecone-­patterned porcelain plates.

“You're late for dinner,” her mother said, shooting her a worried look. “You know what your father would say.”

“That I need to be here to help the family,” Delaney replied. She waved the rolled poster she'd confiscated from town. “Ma, I have something I
must
show you.”

“Not in the middle of dinner.” Her ma handed her an apron. “Now set whatever you've got there aside and get to work.”

Delaney hesitated and glanced across the room at her older sister, Bree. Would
she
let the news wait?

“Delaney!”

Her attention snapped back to her ma and she quickly tied the apron around the waist of her overalls and slipped the accompanying bandana over her hair so no wayward strands would end up as an added surprise in the guests' food.

“I'm not sure I like this new cook we hired,” Grandma complained, picking up a piece of chicken from the bowl with a pair of tongs. “I use cornflakes to bread my chicken, not seasoned bread crumbs.”

“The cook insists on using her own recipes,” Delaney's ma whispered. “At least give her a chance. You can't cook every meal. You'll wear yourself out.”

“What do the guests think?” Delaney asked, serving the person in front of her in line for seconds.

“They love it,” her ma answered, arching a brow.

Grandma scowled and Delaney fought to hide a smile. Her headstrong grandmother didn't like change any more than she did. And now that they were all back under one roof living together again, there had been many changes.

This time around Delaney, Bree, and their brother, Luke, had each been given a portion of the ranch. One-­sixth to be exact. Their grandma, mother, and father held the other three shares. Which meant they each needed to do their part to help Collins Country Cabins succeed, despite the trouble they'd been having with others who wanted to put them out of business.

Another change occurred when just weeks after her return Bree got engaged to their weekend wrangler, Ryan Tanner, who had a seven-­year-­old son. Her older sister would be a
mom
. Like her. Now they'd have lots to talk about and that three-­year gap between them wouldn't feel so large.

And just last month, her older brother, Luke, proposed to their friend and next-­door neighbor, Sammy Jo. Never in a million years had Delaney expected to see
him
anxious to marry. But stranger things had happened.

Like her divorce to Steve. She'd once thought he was the one for her. She'd never been so wrong. And now . . . well, she wasn't sure of anything anymore. That's why it was better for her to leave most decisions to the other older and wiser members of her family. They always knew what to do.

Just like Grandma did, when Delaney let her see their rival's poster and explained where she'd found it. Her grandmother's bushy white brows drew together, and after scrunching her face into a sour expression, she commanded in a half snarl, “Everyone get to the kitchen!”

No one questioned Grandma. The matriarch of the family even got Delaney's father's attention. However, that didn't stop him from coming down hard on
her.

“Delaney, what the devil is this about?”

Ugh.
She hated having everyone's eyes on her. Her chest tightened, her palms grew sweaty, and the back of her throat closed up as she tried to speak.

“Spit it out, girl,” her father shouted. “We haven't got all day.”

Instead of trying to explain, she unfurled the rival outfitter's poster and held it up in front of her, hiding her face.

“Gavin McKinley went and put his posters over all the ones we spent our hard earned money on,” Grandma told them.

Delaney heard Bree gasp first. Then Ma let out a high-­pitched squeak. Luke and Sammy Jo's voices murmured back and forth, followed by a deep, guttural growl that could only have come from Delaney's father.

“Who does he think he is?” Jed Collins demanded.

Delaney peeked around the poster and grimaced. “That's not all. I think he's spreading rumors. Several ­people in town are saying they heard Gavin McKinley call Collins Country Cabins a second rate lodging facility that is constantly having trouble staying open.”

“That's not true!” Bree protested. “Ever since we hosted the Hamiltons' wedding a few weeks ago, business is booming. Every cabin is booked several weeks out.”

“That's not true either,” Ma said, her tone rising into a high-­pitched squeak. “This morning we had several cancellations.”

“Most likely due to this
smear
campaign,” Luke said, his jaw tightening.

“This is an outrage,” their father thundered. “What makes Gavin McKinley think he can run our name through the mud?”

“Maybe the fact he's the sheriff's son,” Sammy Jo pointed out.

“I could talk to the sheriff about him,” Grandma offered.

Delaney thought that might work. Her grandma and the sheriff had grown close and were on the brink of “officially” dating.

“But why would he do this?” Ma asked, her face going pale.

Delaney sighed. “He's mad we're staying open for fall.”

“We only decided to do that a week ago,” her father said, narrowing his gaze. “Who told him?”

Delaney swallowed hard. “I did. Yesterday. At the Bozeman Stampede. Now Gavin thinks we're going to steal away his business.”

“He would have found out one way or another,” Grandma sympathized. “But how was he able to produce so many posters so quickly?”

“Stores can print them up in less than an hour,” Bree informed her.

“What about us?” Ma asked. “Can we print up more of our own advertisements?”

“We'd do better with a good endorsement from a reputable source,” Bree said, and snapped her fingers. “What about the Tanners? Everyone knows they have the largest cattle ranch this side of Fox Creek. Ryan could issue an endorsement.”

Delaney thought that might work, too. Another possible solution to their problem.

“As thrilled as I am to have him as my future son-­in-­law, his personal reputation went through the ringer last month when the newspaper printed that suggestive photo of him in the stable with those three young visiting females pretending to be CEOs,” her father reminded them.

“He was set up,” Bree defended.

“Ryan's endorsement wouldn't count because he's engaged to Bree and working here on weekends. ­People would say he's playing favoritism,” Ma added, backing up their father.

Luke agreed. “We need a reputable person from the outside, someone not associated with our family. We can invite them to our ranch for a two-­week stay and ask for an honest, unbiased review.”

Grandma's face lit up. “Someone famous. Like Clint Eastwood?”

Del smiled. “Then you would finally get to meet your hero.”

Her eighty-­year-­old grandma loved the western movies the actor had made, which might be why she found Sheriff McKinley attractive, even if he
was
ten years younger than her—­he was a protective gunslinger fighting for justice.

“How about one of those rodeo cowboys you were photographing for that magazine?” Delaney's father asked, his gaze boring into her. “Didn't you meet that guy from Arizona who's in the boot commercial on TV? The one whose mother lives here in Montana and is running for governor?”

“Jace Aldridge,” Sammy Jo said, answering for her.

“That was the name on the card I found on the floor,” Ma said with a frown. Pulling a white business card from her apron pocket, she asked, “How do you think this got here?”

Delaney's mouth fell open as she glanced into the adjoining dining room and spotted Meghan playing with the contents of her purse.

Sammy Jo followed her gaze and smirked. “Looks like Meghan found the card Jace gave Delaney, the one with his
phone number
. He was flirting with Del at the rodeo.”

“Shh!” Delaney warned, giving Sammy Jo a stern frown.

“Is it true?” Bree's eyes widened. “Why, he's the biggest thing to hit the rodeo circuit in the last five years. The press follows at his heels.
‘Where Jace goes
—­'
”

“
‘The media follows,'
”
Sammy Jo and Bree quoted together, and smiled.

“His reputation is clean,” Luke agreed. “He doesn't have throngs of women hanging all over him like some of the other rodeo stars.”

“Are you suggesting we invite Jace Aldridge to our ranch?” Delaney asked. Her voice cracked on the last word and had risen almost as high as her mom's.

“He'd be a prime candidate,” her father said, his tone suddenly upbeat. “And since he already has his eye on you, there's a very good chance he'd say yes to our proposal . . . especially if you are the one who asks him to come.”

Delaney gasped. “Me?”

Bree nodded. “You can be our new public relations liaison.”

This was
not
a good idea. Not after she refused to give him her phone number. Besides, as ranch manager, shouldn't her sister be the one to call?

“I think we'd have much better success if you do it, Bree. I'd rather just stay with the horses.”

Ma shook her head. “Bree's engaged. So is Sammy Jo. He already likes you and you're the only gal around here free to flirt with him.”

“Now you want me to flirt?” Del stared at her ma in disbelief. She didn't want to pretend to like him. She was still recovering from her divorce.

“She does
not
have to flirt,” Bree protested. “All she has to do it be herself. But Sammy Jo and I could coach her on what to say and how to dress like a true public relations representative.”

Delaney hesitated. “What's wrong with the way I dress?”

“A little style wouldn't hurt,” Bree said, shooting a pointed look toward her overalls.

Delaney scowled. If her sister had her way, she'd insist on a complete makeover. She turned toward her brother, hoping he'd protect her. “Luke?”

He shook his head. “You are our best bet, Del. We need that endorsement.”

Sammy Jo agreed. “You can do it, sweetie.”

Sometimes being the youngest wasn't fair. And she hated it when Sammy Jo called her “sweetie,” as if she were thirteen instead of twenty-­four.

Ma smiled at her. “You'd be helping the family.”

“Who will help me watch Meghan?” Delaney demanded. “I can't talk to Jace about an endorsement with my two-­year-­old on my hip.”

Her father frowned. “Why not?”

Ma shushed him into silence and assured her, “We can all help watch Meghan.”

Everyone else nodded, even her father.

“We'll invite Jace to stay two weeks,” Bree said, lifting the top page of the calendar on the wall to take a look at the upcoming month of September. “After that, he'll leave and you can go back to giving the guests horseback riding lessons. And all will be well.”

Just like that?

Delaney looked to her father, whose gaze was upon her and expectantly awaited her answer. How could she say no? Especially when Bree and Luke had both stepped up to do their part over the last few months to help save the ranch. By default, it was her turn. And as much as she wanted to turn tail and run, she couldn't let them down. She couldn't let them think she was shirking her responsibility. Not when she needed them and the ranch profits to help provide not only for her needs but for her daughter's.