Surviving Love (Montana Wilds Book 1) (23 page)

Sara’s eyes moistened. “Well, I’ll get to it. Probably a lot to do.”

May helped her up and walked her to the door. “But don’t tax yourself, you hear! Ah, here we are. He’ll watch over you.”

Mikey came striding down the hall, tall and handsome. When he reached her, he took her arm gently and thanked May. “How are you, sugar monster? Doing well?”

Sara laughed at the term of endearment. He thought it was hilarious to keep coming up with weird names to call her. “I’m good. They want me to stay on.”

“I told you they would. Everyone here loves you. Jake won’t even make a decision where it concerns your job. He has that much faith in you.”

“Nah. He just doesn’t want to get yelled at.”

“Exactly.” Mikey laughed. “Where to?”

“I think I’ll take a look around and see what state everything is in.”

He gave her a slow kiss. “Okay, but keep it light. Call me if you need anything. I have another class in ten minutes, but after that I’ll be free.”

She nodded and let him escort her as far as the barn. Once there, she just took it all in. The beauty, the looming sky dotted with puffy white clouds, and the fresh country air. God this land was beautiful. She’d finally come home.

I
t was
a long road to recovery. Duke had cracked two ribs, broken her nose, and deeply bruised a few places on her body. And while she woke up a few nights whimpering, clutching Mikey with claw-like hands, her body and will both only got stronger. She’d survived a soul-crushing breakup, being lost in the wilds, relocating to a new life, and losing a baby. With Mikey by her side, she would keep surviving. She’d take his hand, raise her chin, and walk into the fires if she needed to, knowing that whatever they had to endure, they’d do it together.

“
W
ould you come on
? Seriously!” Christie shouted from the bottom floor of Sara and Mikey’s house.

“I’m coming, Jesus! Hold your horses.” Sara came down the stairs wearing a white dress that Christie made her borrow. It was really cute, and cut beautifully, but it was made of satin and felt expensive. It was a bit much for an “I’m all better” date with Mikey.

“Don’t use the Lord’s name in vain. He might take away all the gifts He’s given you in the last eight months when you showed up on the ranch a depressed mess!” Christie smiled when she saw Sara descend the stairs. “Perfect!”

“It’s a little… matrimonial,” Sara said in a dour tone, swishing the long dress.

“It’s fine. ’Kay, c’mon. I’m driving you because I want to borrow your car.”

Sara scanned her face in the hall mirror, fingering her new nose. She’d had to get surgery. It was a little smaller, but mostly the same. All the bruises were long since gone, her ribs and other injuries long since healed, and Duke secure in jail. The only thing not long gone was the horrible—
horrible—
Montana winter. She hadn’t realized winter could crack a person’s bones.

Now, in the spring, things weren’t so horribly cold. The dude ranch would start up soon for tourists, making things much busier with Sara as Mikey’s helper, since Sam had decided to get back together with his girlfriend. He wanted to marry her, and being away for a summer would accomplish the opposite.

Christie still, after hanging out for a winter with Greg, hadn’t consented to a date. Poor Greg was still in the friend zone. Christie wouldn’t talk about why, though, so they all just kind of waited and hoped—Greg most of all.

“Hurry up!” Christie roared, standing by the door.

Sara rolled her eyes, adjusted her makeup, and walked out. “It’s a date with my boyfriend, in the middle of the day, Christie, why all the dramatics? We live together, for cripes’ sakes.”

“I’m impatient, and that’s that.”

They drove up to a spot beyond the ranch, Mikey wanting to picnic with the sweeping skyline behind them. They parked, and to Sara’s surprise, Christie got out beside her.

“What are you doing?” Sara asked, slowing so her friend could catch up. “And why are you so dressed up? Are you going out with Greg, because I’ve noticed that you make more and more of an effort when you go out with him…”

“I’m doing my duty and organizing,” Christie said cryptically as they turned on the path. A heavyset man with a mustache waited for them, dressed in a gray suit that looked fresh off the rack.

“
Dad?
” Sara breathed out. “No one mentioned that you were coming. What are you doing—”

Beyond him, in front of the sweeping scenery and limitless sky, was a grouping of people nestled between a giant and gorgeous spread of flowers. An aisle led up the middle of seated people, all turned in their seats to look back at her. At the end of the wide, natural corridor stood Mikey in a tux with Greg and his three brothers, identically dressed.

“Oh my God,” Sara said, butterflies erupting in her stomach. “Is this…”

“We always knew you’d end up with Mikey Frost.” Her dad held out his arm, his smile infusing his eyes. “He was always the best of the bunch. You couldn’t have picked better.”

“How…” Sara’s eyes filled with tears, as she walked forward on wooden legs. Mikey was facing her, his hands clasped in front of him patiently, smiling that million-dollar smile that lightened her feet and tingled her heart.

“Thank goodness you’re so dense,” Christie said with a smile, signaling a string quartet to commence playing. “We’ve been planning for months. It’s not easy getting a wedding together.”

“He didn’t even mention it. Or propose,” Sara said in a wispy voice.

“He probably thought you’ve been engaged enough,” her dad said, patting her hand. “Now, c’mon. He’s waiting for you. And don’t mind Jack’s scowl—he doesn’t approve of anything his son does.”

Sara’s gaze whipped around from Mikey and settled on her dad. “Jack Frost. Oh my God! How did I never realize how funny his name was?”

“Best not to mention that, either,” her dad said, stifling a laugh. “Your mother makes fun of him for it every time she’s had too much wine.”

Christie hurried ahead, taking a measured pace once she got to the aisle. Then came Sara, eyes on the handsome Mikey, standing at the front, waiting for her with soft eyes. She could barely feel her feet as she walked down the beautiful floral aisle. As she reached him, her dad stepped away to shake his hand. Each of his brothers, all smiling, nodded hello as she took her place beside her prince.

“Hi, baby,” Mikey said quietly, holding his hand up, palm out.

She matched palms with her own and threaded her fingers through his. Her body filled with that familiar hum. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”

“I wanted to save you from freaking out.” He laughed, turning her to the pastor.

“We gather here today…”

Sara let the words curl around her as her eyes drifted back to Mikey, the love of her life, the one she could not do without. His eyes followed a similar path, connecting with her, and then reeling her in. Her anchor. Her guiding light.

“May we have the rings?” the pastor asked.

Greg stepped forward, handing Sara a plain gold band. Mikey got something much more sparkly.

“Mike, please say the vows you’ve prepared,” the pastor said.

“Sara, you were my true love before I even knew what that meant. It’s been you and me our whole lives, and it’ll continue to be you and me well beyond it. You are my forever, and when we leave this world, hand in hand, we’ll stay together for all eternity. If I have you, I’ll want for nothing. With this ring, I thee wed.”

With steady hands, he slipped a diamond and sapphire eternity band onto her ring finger. “It’s my birth stone and yours, wound together.”

She nodded, hands shaking. Tears dripped down her cheeks.

“Sara, would you like to say a few words, or repeat after me?” the pastor asked softly.

Through blurry eyes, she looked at the man that had saved her from so many dangers—most importantly, an emptiness she’d never been able to fill since he’d left. “I’ve never been happier than these last six or so months. Not even when we were kids. But you’ve surprised me with this perfect wedding, so I’ll surprise you with something I realized this morning.”

She leaned in to him, waiting for him to lean his face down to hers. Into his ear she whispered, “I’m pregnant.”

The smile took up his whole face. “The best day yet. I love you, sugar britches.”

“I love you, Mikey. Forever.”

“You may kiss the bride.”

Mikey wasted no time. He scooped her up and hugged her tightly, giving her a gentle and loving kiss.

C
heck out Greg
and Christie’s story
here
.

S
ynopsis
:

Christie thought escaping to the dude ranch in rural Montana would help her forget. With a past like hers, intimacy is no longer an option, and running seems the only way. But when she meets a handsome and carefree ranch hand, suddenly his touch is all she can think about. 

Greg hasn’t given much thought to settling down. He’s happy working the ranch and living off the land. But the troubled yet spunky Christie has his head spinning and his heart aching. He’d sacrifice anything to see her smile.

With Greg’s support, Christie must finally face the fears of her past. To fail would be to lose the one man that made her feel alive again.    

E
xcerpt
:

“You can’t fire me because I quit!” Christie yanked off her apron and threw it across the manager’s desk. She stood in a rush. The chair toppled over behind her, eliciting a grimace. Hiking up her chin, she stood with fists clenched, defiant. “Good luck finding someone to replace me.”

The chair snatched her leg as she turned, making her stagger out of its reach. Straightened up and with squared shoulders, she marched out of the office and through the café.

“Really?” Claudia, an older woman with startling blue eye shadow, planted a fist on her hip as Christie passed her by. “Do we need all the dramatics?”

Christie grinned, glancing behind her as Doug, the manager, filled his doorway with a bored expression. She loved doing stunts like that. Glass clinked as Christie straightened her station one last time.

“See ya after the tourist season?” Doug asked from his removed perch. He leaned against the doorframe.

Christie flashed him a smile and tipped her fake hat. He’d always been good at taking her crazy. It was why they got along so well. “Yes, sir. Probably. But who knows, maybe I’ll meet a handsome, rich foreigner who’ll whisk me away to some distant land and shower me in gifts.”

“Doubt it. We don’t get those kinda people through here.” Doug crossed his arms.

“Way to burst a gal’s bubble,” she murmured, tucking away her earnings. “Sorry about the chair.”

His thick shoulders jerked upward in a shrug. “Adds flare to your last day.”

She took a deep breath as a surge of butterflies filled her stomach. “See ya, guys.”

“Yup.” Claudia took a pencil from behind her ear and sauntered over to the only occupied table. “Have fun shoveling horseshit.”

Beaming, Christie nodded at the aged patrons before bursting out into the afternoon sunshine. She
would
have fun shoveling horseshit. She looked forward to it. Working at the dude ranch, which had employed her the last couple of summers, was about as close as she ever came to being happy. The air was clearer. Fresher. The people didn’t care where she came from as long as she worked hard and did her job. And better, her best friends in the world worked there. She wished she could be there all year round.

With a last glance at the café, she adjusted the strap of her handbag and started walking down the street. Getting into a flashy car with a scarf over her head would probably have been a more appropriate way to leave after dramatically quitting—even if she’d actually given notice two weeks before—but being broke and having no vehicle, she’d have to settle for climbing up the steps into a bus.

The obnoxiously loud rumble of a motorcycle interrupted her thoughts. Slowing, she glanced over her shoulder then stopped as two revs announced the arrival of the hottest man in the whole danged state. He was so hot, wax melted when he looked at it. So hot that ladies’ flip-flops melted to the sidewalk after his glance. She needed sunscreen in his presence,
that
was how hot he was.

Annoyingly, he didn’t seem to think so. It would’ve been easier to bear his stupid hotness had he at least gloated about it a little. Or even if his pregnant wife did.
Someone
needed to.

“Hey, Mike,” Christie yelled over the noise as she glanced at her wristwatch. There was a long wait between buses—she didn’t intend to miss this one. “What are you doing slumming it down here? Shouldn’t you be earning a bar of gold teaching one of your classes?”

The thunder of sound cut off. He firmly planted a foot on the ground and braced a hand on his thigh. “Bad day?”

“No, actually. Great day. Last day, in fact. I staged a whole scene for my departure. Yelled at the boss and everything.”

Mike looked over his shoulder toward the café. He grunted out a chuckle. “I can’t see Doug getting worked up.”

“No. He was nonplussed.” Christie shrugged before hooking a thumb toward the bus. “I gotta run. You going to be at the thing tomorrow?”

“Hop on. I’ll take you home.”

Christie paused, glancing over the large bike. Then over the large shoulders of the man she now thought of as a brother figure. Once upon a time she would’ve salivated for the chance to snake her arms around that rock-solid middle. Now the idea was gross.

“Nah. Sara would probably stick a knife in my ribs or something.”

Mike grinned. “You chicken?”

“No. You’re the only barnyard animal here.” She stepped toward the bus. “But seriously, I gotta go. Last time I missed the bus, I found a bar. That was not a pretty evening.”

“Hang on.” Mike fished out his phone and tapped the screen. A moment later he lifted it to his head. “Where are you?” He listened for a moment, glanced at the sinking sun, and then looked out over the street. “Well, can you take a detour and pick Christie up? She needs a ride.”

“I don’t need—”

Mike nodded, grunted, then lowered the phone and tapped the red
end
button. Apparently the grunt was a goodbye cue. He adjusted so he could slip the device back in his pocket.

“How does that not get broken?” Christie said.

“My pants are looser than yours. Greg’s not far. He’ll swing by and grab you.”

“I take the bus every day, Mike. It’s really not a big—”

The bike roared to a start. “What’s that? Didn’t hear ya!” He grinned at her before centering the bike under him. In an elevated voice to edge out over the growl of the Harley, he said, “Sara would skin me alive if I passed by and didn’t look after you. See you tomorrow.”

The bike revved once before Mike pulled away from the curb.

“Wait! Where am I supposed to wait for him…” Man and machine rumbled on, having left out some very important directions.

Christie sighed and glanced at her wrist again. She could still make the bus if she hurried.

She blew out a breath.

If she took the bus, Greg would’ve made the trip for nothing. That wouldn’t be cool.

The question was, how long would Greg take?

“Bus would probably be faster,” she muttered.

“What’s that?” Karen, the toy shop owner, passed by holding the wrist of a struggling toddler. Amazingly, her smile at Christie wasn’t forced.

“Nothing. Sorry.” Christie stepped back, out of the way. She received a kind smile as the patient woman mostly dragged her screaming toddler up the street. That kid had tantrums nearly every day. Christie did not know how Karen dealt with it.

She kicked at a rock and swung her body toward the right. Then left. Movement eased the boredom sometimes. It also made one look like a fool.

She dug out her phone and gently fingered the screen. A picture of the Milky Way lit up, sliced in half by a crack she still hadn’t fixed. A moment later, as she was restarting her game of Candy Crush, the purr of a motor announced a hefty red truck. She glanced up, wondering why the red automobile was stopping in front of her, until she recognized the driver.

A delighted grin lit up her face as she practically danced to the curb. The driver’s-side door opened and closed. Cowboy boots tapped the ground as a tall, well-built man came around the hood with tight Wranglers and a faded T-shirt doing nothing to protect him against the receding chill of winter. His dusty green eyes, the color of faded dollar bills, took her in before crinkling at the corners. He flashed her his customary lopsided grin. “Howdy,” Greg said. “Heard you were stranded and in need of saving.”

“Yeah, right. Overprotective Mike happened to see me as he was passing by. He offered me a ride on his death trap.” Christie threw up a hand for a high five.

Greg raised his as well, and then let it hover in a type of salute. In a deep voice mocking bad westerns, he said, “How.”

“That is
so
not PC. You’re going to get your ass kicked one of these days.” A giggle tumbled out of Christie’s lips. “What’s that?” She pointed at the shiny truck.

His grin turned into a full spectacle. His broad shoulders caught her gaze for a moment as he hooked his thumbs in his pockets, flaring his elbows to the sides. “New digs. Just got it last week. C’mon, I’ll take you for a ride.” Greg opened the passenger door and held out his hand.

“You guys are treating me like a sack of potatoes. The bus would’ve been
fine.
”
She rolled her eyes. “I would’ve been halfway home by now.”

“Don’t worry about it. This truck is made for hauling. Potatoes, chicks—whatever.” He shook his hand at her. “The bus is nowhere near this comfortable.”

Smiling, because she loved Greg’s goofiness, she took his large, calloused hand and allowed him to hand her into the truck. Only, it was higher than normal vehicles, and she couldn’t easily swing her butt in.

“C’mon, Smith, in ye get.” She felt a firm hand on her butt before a strong shove catapulted her into the cab. Her face slid against the leather before she righted herself and slapped the hair out of her face.

“You okay?” He stepped up into his seat and paused, his smile dwindling.

“Jesus, Gibson, you been eating your Wheaties? Since when can you lift all my weight with one hand?”

“You weigh about as much as a fruit fly.” Scarlet bled into his cheeks. “Sorry about that. Touching your butt. I thought it’d be less intrusive than grabbing your sides.”

She held up her hand as confusion colored her voice. “You thought touching a private part, and damn near
the
private part, was less intrusive than touching a part I willingly show to people on a hot summer’s day?”

“The sides are problem areas for women, am I right? You don’t have an ounce of fat on you, but if you did, and your sides were at all squishy, you’d probably be embarrassed, and then I’d get slapped. Or, with you, kicked in the nuts. So yeah, I figured your butt was the better way to go. Or waiting for your clumsy ass to finally get up there, but I got places to be…”

She laughed and shook her head. “Anyway, so why the new truck?”

His gaze covered her a moment longer, delving into her eyes in a way that had her squirming uncomfortably. “Hello?” she badgered. “Earth to simpleton.”

“Simpleton reading you, loud and clear. Go ahead, Earth.”

Warmth and giggles bubbled up through her middle. “Truck? ’Splain, please.”

Greg finally turned his eyes away and slipped the truck into gear. “I like nice things.”

“Since when?”

Greg’s head cocked to the side as the truck rolled to a start. “Hmm. Not sure. Maybe you’re rubbing off on me.”

“Yeah, right.” Christie slung the seatbelt around her as Greg navigated onto the highway. The dashboard felt smooth under her palm. She inhaled deeply. “I love the new car smell.”

“She’s got all the bells and whistles. I wanted the best and I didn’t mind paying for it.”

She heard the pride ringing through his voice. Having known him for a few years—he was a permanent employee on the dude ranch and Mike’s best friend—she knew that he didn’t come from much. His parents were only a step above poverty when he came into the world. Two years later, his dad ran out on them, financially sinking his mother further still. From what Christie heard, Greg was extremely intelligent, but hadn’t been able to apply that academically because of the price tag. Instead, he’d worked his way up from the bottom at the ranch, applying elbow grease to his smarts, and making a name for himself in the ranching community. Next to Jake, Greg was the best horse handler in the county.

“You get a raise?” Christie asked, turning toward him. She had a feeling that this was a defining moment for him—she needed to let him fully express it.

He shrugged minutely. “Something like that.”

“Really? You’re going to be modest? You know I’ll just ask around and get all the juice.”

A suppressed grin tweaked his lips. “I’m managing everything to do with the horses, now. Buying, selling, stables, guest interaction…”

“Oh wow.” She reached over and patted his thick shoulder. “That’s awesome. Congratulations! When did you find out?”

“A few weeks ago.”

“And I am just hearing about it?” Christie frowned and slid her lip through her teeth. “Did you tell Sara?”

“Didn’t have to. All operational decisions go through her before being approved. No one wants to mess up her system.”

“Right, right.” Christie drummed her fingers on the door handle. “I wonder why she didn’t mention anything. I like to be in the
know,
as everyone is aware…”