Wild Montana Nights
Read Wild Montana Nights Online
Authors: Marla Monroe
Wild Montana Nights
Darla Moore needs a job, not a boyfriend, and especial y not two.
But that is exactly what she ends up with when she agrees to
become a cook and housekeeper on a Montana ranch. How can
she remain immune to their charm and the way they make her
feel? How will she react when she learn she is really auditioning
for a starring role in a three-way marriage?
Randal and Marcus thought they would never find the woman of
their dreams until Darla walked through their door. When she
relaxes her defenses and lets them in, she fal s in love with them,
and they with her. Randall and Marcus are dead set on keeping
her with them and make a decision that could cost them her love
in the end. Will that love be enough to forgive them before it’s too
late?
Genre:
Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Western/Cowboys
Length:
72,833 words
WILD MONTANA NIGHTS
Marla Monroe
MENAGE AMOUR
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Ménage Amour
WILD MONTANA NIGHTS
Copyright © 2011 by Marla Monroe
E-book ISBN: 1-61034-413-8
First E-book Publication: April 2011
Cover design by Jinger Heaston
All cover art and logo copyright © 2011 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED:
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All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
Letter to Readers
Dear Readers,
If you have purchased this copy of
Wild Montana Nights
by Marla Monroe from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you.
Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.
Regarding E-book Piracy
This book is copyrighted intellectual property. No other individual or group has resale rights, auction rights, membership rights, sharing
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The author and the publisher work very hard to bring our paying
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This is Marla Monroe’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect Ms. Monroe’s right to earn a living from her work.
Amanda Hilton, Publisher
WILD MONTANA NIGHTS
MARLA MONROE
Copyright © 2011
Chapter One
Darla clutched the worn section of the want ads tight to her breast
and blew out a breath. The cold air fogged. Dear Lord, don’t let her have made a mistake in packing up and leaving everything behind in
Mississippi. She had driven straight through to Rhodes, Montana in
hopes of landing the job she found on the Internet. After stopping
only for food and to spend the night in cheap hotels, she was in
desperate need of a job now with no means of support and a
dwindling savings. She pushed the hair out of her eyes and climbed
back in the car. The directions the man had given her over the phone
sounded easy enough to follow. She should be there for the interview
in less than an hour.
Six months earlier, she had been living in a comfortable
apartment, dating a wonderful man who promised her the world when
they were married, and working at a job that gave her a sense of
accomplishment. In the blink of an eye, it was all gone. Never would
she trust in anyone but herself again. Darla fastened her seatbelt and started the car. She pulled out of the little grocery store parking lot and turned in the direction of The Wandering S Ranch.
The ad said they were looking for a live-in housekeeper and cook.
She could take care of a house without a problem. She was a good
cook as long as they didn’t want anything fancy. Surely a working
8
Marla Monroe
ranch wouldn’t have any need of extravagant food. She knew nothing
about ranching, but she was more than willing to learn. The fact that they were still looking gave her hope that she might have a chance at the job. If it didn’t work out, then she would have to look around
town for something. If not there, then she would move on to the next
town.
The road she found herself on wound around the mountain. The
beautiful scenery wasn’t lost on her, but driving the treacherous road took all her concentration. She wasn’t use to the mountainous driving.
At home in Mississippi, the land she grew up on was flat with only a
few rolling hills to ponder. This was entirely different terrain. By the time she arrived at the entrance to The Wandering S, Darla’s knuckles were white and her fingers stiff from gripping the wheel.
Her mind registered the dwindling light and the knowledge that
she would have to drive down that road in the dark burned her
stomach.
Please let this work out for me.
Darla eased down the long drive toward what she hoped would be her new home. The large
wooden house gradually revealed itself in the gloom of the
encroaching night. Maybe she should have asked to meet with them in
the morning. She closed her eyes and sighed. Nothing to do but get it over with. She could worry about the drive back when it came time.
For right now, she needed to be on her toes and not worried about
finding her way back down the mountain.
From what she could see of the massive structure, it was a large
log cabin of perhaps four thousand square feet. She wondered how
large the family would be for something of that size. She parked the
car and climbed out to look around her. She could make out several
other structures beside and behind the house. Probably a barn and
other out buildings, she decided. There would need to be a bunkhouse
for other workers as well. She swallowed and turned her attention
back toward the main house. That was where the interview would
take place.
Wild Montana Nights
9
Darla closed the car door and walked up the drive to the house.
There were lights on inside. She couldn’t make out any movement,
but she knew that someone had to be home since she had talked to
one of them earlier. She glanced at her watch and grimaced. It had
taken her over an hour to find the place. She hoped they weren’t upset with how late it was. At nearly five thirty, it was getting dark quickly now. The garage was unlit, so she veered toward what she assumed to
be the front door where a light had been left on hopefully in
anticipation of her arrival. Adjusting the strap of her purse over her shoulder, Darla knocked on the massive wooden door and stepped
back to wait, gripping her threadbare coat closed against the wind.
After what seemed like long minutes, the locks on the door made
clicking noises and the door swung open from the inside. Light shone
out from within the room, momentarily blinding her until a figure
stepped up into view, blocking the bright light from her eyes. As her eyes adjusted to the change in light, she assessed the man standing in front of her. He stood well over six feet, probably a good four inches or more. Brown wavy hair that reached his shoulders accented honey
colored eyes that seemed to stare straight through her. His chiseled
features kept him from being handsome, but rather made him
distinguished, something that had to be difficult to do at such a young age. He couldn’t be more than twenty-six or twenty-eight.
“Ms. Darla Moore?” His voice sent chill bumps down her spine,
and deep, rich tones massaged her ears. He turned the sound of her
name into music.
“That’s right. Mr. Sanders?” She squinted into the light.
“Come on in.” He held the door open, and Darla walked inside.
The entrance hall held a row of hooks and a long pew-like bench
where you could sit down and remove boots and shoes. Darla wasn’t
sure if she should take hers off or not. As if hearing her thoughts, he drew her by the elbow deeper into the house.
“Call me Marcus. Let me take your coat.” He held out his hands.
10
Marla Monroe
Darla unbuttoned her coat and slipped it off. He took it and hung
it on one of the coat hooks in the hall and ushered her into what
appeared to be the main living area. A massive fireplace took up
nearly one entire wall with a glassed-in entertainment center to one
side. The stone façade lent warmth to the room and helped neutralize
the rich burgundy leather couch and chairs. The warm wood floor
looked in need of a good cleaning but wasn’t nasty by any means. The
fire in the fireplace looked inviting, and she had to stiffen her knees to keep from heading directly toward it.
“Have a seat. Would you like something to drink?” Marcus asked.
“No thanks. I’m fine.” She took a seat on the butter soft leather of
the couch.