Montana Sky (7 page)

For three days she'd been left to her own devices. No one said anything when she wandered the house, or went out to
explore the ranch. The men would tip their hats to her if they passed by, and she imagined there were comments and murmurings. But she didn't care about that.

The air here was sweet to the taste. Wherever she stood, it seemed, she could see something beautiful—water rushing over rocks in a stream, the flash of a bird in the forest, deer bounding across the road.

She thought a year of this would be paradise.

Adam stood for a moment, the bucket in his hand, watching her. She came out here every day, he knew. He'd seen her wander away from the house, the barn, the paddocks, and head for this pasture. She would stand by the fence, very still, very quiet.

Very alone.

He'd waited, believing she needed to be alone. Healing was often a solitary matter. But he also believed she needed a friend. So now he walked toward her, careful to make enough noise so that she wouldn't be startled. When she turned, her smile came slow and hesitant, but it came.

“I'm sorry. I'm not in the way here, am I?”

“You're not in anyone's way.”

Because she was already learning to be relaxed around him, she shifted her gaze back to the horses. “I love looking at them.”

“You can have a closer look.” He didn't need the bucket of grain to lure any of the horses to the fence. Any of them would come for him at a quiet call. He handed the bucket to Lily. “Just give it a shake.”

She did, then watched, delighted, as several pairs of ears perked up. Horses trotted over to crowd at the fence. Without thinking, she dipped a hand into the grain and fed a pretty buckskin mare.

“You've been around horses before.”

At Adam's comment, she pulled her hand back. “I'm sorry. I should have asked before I fed her.”

“It's all right.” He was sorry to have startled that smile away from her face. That quick light that had come into eyes that were somewhere between gray and blue. Like lake
water, he thought, caught in the shadows of sunset. “Come along, Molly.”

At her name, the roan mare pranced along the fence toward the gate. Adam led her into a corral and slipped a bridle over her head.

Self-conscious again, Lily wiped grain dust on her jeans, took one hesitant step closer. “Her name's Molly?”

“Yes.” He kept his eyes on the horse, giving Lily a chance to settle again.

“She's pretty.”

“She's a good saddle horse. Kind. Her gait's a bit rough, but she tries. Don't you, girl? Can you ride Western, Lily?”

“I—what?”

“You probably learned on English.” Keeping it light, Adam spread the blanket he'd brought along over Molly's back. “Nate keeps some English tack if you'd rather. We can borrow a saddle from him.”

Her hands reached for each other, as they did when her nerves jittered. “I don't understand.”

“You want to ride, don't you?” He slid one of Willa's old saddles onto Molly's back. “I thought we'd go up in the hills a little way. Might see some elk.”

She found herself caught between yearning and fear. “I haven't ridden in—It's been a long time.”

“You don't forget how.” Adam estimated the length of her legs and adjusted the stirrups accordingly. “You can go alone once you know your way around.” He turned then, noting the way she kept glancing back toward the ranch house. As if gauging the distance. “You don't have to be afraid of me.”

She believed him. That was what she was afraid of—that it was so easy to believe him. How often had she believed Jesse?

But that was done, she reminded herself. That was over. Her life could begin again, if she'd let it.

“I'd like to go, for a little while, if you're sure it's all right.”

“Why wouldn't it be?” He moved toward her, stopping instinctively before she shied again. “You don't have to
worry about Willa. She has a good heart, and a generous one. It's just hurting right now.”

“I know she's upset. She has every right to be.” Unable to resist, Lily lifted a hand to stroke Molly's cheek. “Even more upset since they found that poor cow. I don't understand who would do something like that. She's so angry. And she's so busy. She's always got something to do, and I'm, well, I'm just here.”

“Do you want something to do?”

With the horse between them, it was easy to smile. “Not if it involves castrating cows. I could hear them this morning.” She shuddered, then managed to laugh at herself. “I got out of the house before Bess could make me eat breakfast. I don't think I'd have held it down for long.”

“It's just one of the things you get used to.”

“I don't think so.” Lily exhaled, barely noticing how close her hand was to Adam's on the mare's head. “Willa's natural with all of it. She's so sure and confident. I envy that, that knowing just who you are. To her I'm just a nuisance, which is why I haven't been able to work up the courage to talk to her, to ask if there's something I could do around here to help.”

“You don't have to be afraid of her, either.” He brushed his fingertips against hers, continuing to stroke the mare even when Lily's hand slid out of reach. “But meanwhile, you could ask me. I can use some help. With the horses,” he added, when she only stared at him.

“You want me to help you with the horses?”

“It's a lot of work, more when winter gets here.” Knowing he'd planted the seed, he stepped back. “Think about it.” Then he cupped his hands, smiled again. “I'll give you a leg up. You can walk her around the corral, get acquainted, while I saddle up.”

Her throat was closed so that she had to swallow hard to clear it. “You don't even know me.”

“I figure we'll get acquainted too.” He stood as he was, hands linked in a cup, his eyes patient on hers. “You just have to put your foot in my hands, Lily, not your life.”

Feeling foolish, she grabbed the saddle horn and let him
boost her into the saddle. She looked down at him, her eyes solemn in her battered face. “Adam, my life is a mess.”

He only nodded as he checked her stirrups. “You'll have to start tidying it up.” He rested a hand on her ankle a moment, wanting her to grow easy to his touch. “But today, you just have to take a ride into the hills.”

 

T
HE LITTLE BITCH
,
LETTING THAT HALF
-
BREED PAW HER
. Sniveling little whore thought she could get rid of Jesse Cooke, figured she could run and he wouldn't catch her. Put the cops on his ass. She was going to pay for that.

Jesse stared through the field glasses while little bubbles of fury burst in his blood. He wondered if the half-breed horse wrangler had already gotten Lily on her back. Well, the bastard would pay too. Lily was Jesse Cooke's wife, and he was going to be reminding her of that soon enough.

Stupid little cunt thought she was real clever hightailing it to Montana. But the day Jesse Cooke couldn't outwit a woman was the day the sun didn't rise in the east.

He'd known she wouldn't make a move without contacting her dear old mama. So he'd just camped himself within sight of the pretty house in Virginia. And every morning he'd gotten to the mail and checked through it for a letter from Lily.

Persistence had paid off. The letter had come, as he'd known it would. He'd taken it back to the motel room, steamed it open. Oh, Jesse Cooke was nobody's fool. He'd read it, seen where she was going, what she was up to.

Going to cash in on an inheritance, he thought bitterly. And cut her own husband out of his share of the pie. Not in this lifetime, Jesse mused.

The minute the letter had been resealed and put back in the box, he'd headed for Montana. And had gotten there, he thought now, two full days before his idiot wife. Long enough for a man as smart as Jesse Cooke to get the lay of the land and get himself a job on Three Rocks.

A miserable fucking job, he thought now, keeping machines in repair. Well, he knew his way around engines, and there was always a rig that needed fine-tuning. When he
wasn't doing that, they had him out checking fences day and night.

But that came in handy, damn handy, like now. A man out riding in a four-wheel to check fences could take a little detour and check out what else was going on.

And he saw plenty.

Jesse rubbed his fingers over the moustache he'd grown and dyed like his hair, medium brown. Just a precaution, he thought, just a temporary disguise, in case Lily blabbed about him. If she did, they'd have their eye out for a clean-shaven man with blond hair. He had let his hair grow too and would keep on letting it grow. Like a fucking pansy, he thought, resenting the necessity of giving up his severe Marine Corps crew cut.

It would all be worth it in the end. When he had Lily back, when he reminded her who was boss. Who was in charge.

Until that happy day he would stay close. And he would watch.

“You have a good time, bitch,” Jesse muttered, his eyes narrowing behind the high-powered lenses as Lily walked her mount beside Adam's. “Payback time's coming.”

 

M
OST OF THE DAY HAD DIED OUT OF THE SKY BY THE
time Willa got back to the ranch house. Dehorning and castrating cattle was a messy, miserable job, and a tedious one. She knew she was pushing herself, and knew she would continue to push. She wanted the men to see her at every angle, at every job. Shifting operators under the best of circumstances could be a rough transition. And these were far from the best of circumstances.

Which is why she'd been on hand when a herd of elk had trampled through a fence, creating havoc. And why she'd personally headed the crew to chase them off again, to repair the fence.

Now with the work done for the day and the hands settling down for supper and cards in the bunkhouse, she wanted nothing more than a hot bath and a hot meal. She was halfway up the steps to get the first when the knock
sounded on the door. Knowing that Bess was likely in the kitchen, Willa stomped back down to answer.

She greeted Ben with a scowl. “What do you want?”

“A cold beer would go down good.”

“This isn't a saloon.” But she swung away from the door and into the living room to the cold box behind the bar. “Make it fast, Ben. I haven't had my supper.”

“Neither have I.” He took the bottle she handed him. “But I don't expect I'm going to get an invitation.”

“I'm not in the mood for company.”

“I've never known you to be in the mood for company.” He tipped back the beer and drank deep. “I haven't seen you since we were up in the high country. Thought I should let you know I didn't find anything. Trail died out on me. I'd have to say whoever was up there knew his way around tracking.”

She took a beer for herself, and since her feet were aching, dropped down beside Ben on the sofa. “Pickles thinks it was kids. Doped up and crazy.”

“And you?”

“I didn't.” She moved a shoulder. “Now that sounds like the best explanation.”

“Maybe. There's not much use going back up. We've got the cattle down. Is your sister back from LA?”

Willa stopped rolling her head to loosen her shoulders and frowned at him. “You're awfully interested in Mercy business, McKinnon.”

“That's part of my job now.” He liked reminding her of it, just as he liked looking at her, with her hair falling out of her braid and her boots propped beside his. “Have you heard from her?”

“She'll be here tomorrow, so if that concludes your prying into my business, you can—”

“Going to introduce me?” To please himself he reached out to toy with her hair. “Maybe I'll take a shine to her and keep her occupied and out of your way for a while.”

She knocked his hand aside, but he only brought it back. “Do women always fall at your feet?”

“All but you, darling. And that's just because I haven't
found the right way to tip your balance.” He skimmed a fingertip down her cheek, watched her eyes narrow. “But I'm working on it. What about the other one?”

“The other what?” Willa wanted to shift over a couple of inches, but she knew it would make her look like a fool.

“The other sister.”

“She's around. Somewhere.”

He smiled, slowly. “I'm making you nervous. Isn't that interesting?”

“Your ego needs pruning again.” But she started to rise. He stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.

“Well, well,” he murmured, feeling her vibrate under his hand. “It looks like I haven't been paying close enough attention. Come here.”

She concentrated on evening her breathing, slowly changed her grip on the beer she held. Oh, he looks so arrogant, she thought. So cocky. So sure I'll melt if he bothers to push the right button.

“You want me to come there,” she purred, watching his eyes widen slightly in surprise at the warm tone. “And what'll happen if I do?”

He might have called himself a fool—if there'd been any blood left in his head to allow him to think. But all he could do at that moment was feel the gradual simmer of lust set off by that husky voice.

“I'd say it's long past time we found out.” He curled his fingers into her shirt, tightened his grip, and pulled her against him. If his gaze hadn't drifted down from hers to lock onto her mouth, he would have seen it coming. Instead he found himself an inch away from that mouth and soaked from the beer she dumped over his head.

“You're such a jerk, Ben.” Pleased with herself, she leaned forward to set the empty bottle on the table. “You think I could live on a ranch surrounded by randy men all my life and not see a move like that a mile off?”

Slowly, he dragged a hand through his wet hair. “Guess not. But then again—”