The Reluctant Bride (Montana Born Brides) (9 page)

That was what she
’d hoped to find. Monty had offered her that in Vegas. They’d both been carefree and easy to love. She’d changed, but last night she’d had her first glimpse of how much Monty had changed.

Foolish that she hadn
’t realized that before now.

Her phone rang and she glanced at it.
San Diego area code. Monty. So much for giving her a little breathing room. But she knew he’d push her. Part of the reason she’d run was she had a hard time saying no to him.

“
Hello?”

“
Want to see my new place? I know you have to open your shop up at ten, but if you have time for a quick drive and maybe some coffee I’d love to show it to you.”

Tempting.
She glanced at the window across her loft apartment. The florist’s shop occupied the ground floor and she’d made this area into her home. It was full of wide open spaces that made her feel like she wasn’t trapped.

“
Okay. I can be ready in thirty minutes.”

“
I’m downstairs. Could you do it in ten?” he asked.

Ten minutes?
She jumped from her bed, glancing in the mirror. Naturally curly hair meant she looked like Medusa or her scary kid sister in the mornings. “I might be able to. I’ll be down as quickly as I can be.”

“
Sounds good. Just remember, I think you’re beautiful.”

“
Ha. If you saw me right now you’d run screaming for the hills, that’s a promise,” she said. She disconnected the call as she rummaged through the antique armoire that she’d had shipped her from her parents’ home in Florida. She found a pair of faded jeans, a lace-topped undershirt and her big leather belt. Then she pulled on a thick Irish wool sweater.

Hair.
OMG, it was sticking out in every direction. She tried taming it with her hands and then fumbled around in the bathroom drawer, finding a ski headband she hadn’t remembered purchasing. She put it on and found she now looked even scarier.

Why couldn
’t she have hair that was just naturally easy to manage or long? Her hair grew out instead of down. She stuck her comb under the water and drew it through her tresses until they were at least lying flat. Then she remembered it was cold and morning and she could wear one of her knit caps.

She spritzed herself with perfume and stomped her feet into her leather boots with the turquoise trim before putting on the hat and her jacket.
She locked her door behind her and walked down the stairs that led to the back of Sweetpea Flowers. The stairwell opened onto the neatly organized workroom, and as she looked at the long bench she used for her work, she felt a sense of pride.

She was good at what she did, and the number of regular orders she had in Marietta proved that the town recognized her talent.
She might have stumbled on Marietta when running from her life, but as she opened the back door and stepped out into the alley, it seemed to her she’d found it as well.

Monty was sitting behind the wheel of a mud-splattered, navy blue Chevy S-10 quad cab.
It looked solid, but despite the wear, it was in good condition. A bit like the owner, she thought.

He was in good shape and looked like he could get any job done, but he
’d been used and she knew he needed something from her. Something other than just standing still so he could catch her.

“
Morning,” she said, as she walked to the passenger side and opened the door.

“
Morning. Glad you said yes. Otherwise I would have felt pretty foolish having driven all the way out here.”

“
I’m glad I did, too. What’d you have in mind?” she asked, as the warmth of the cab wrapped around her. He smelled of woodsy aftershave and coffee.

“
A surprise. I figured part of our problem is that we never really got to know each other. Vegas was a romantic fantasy. It was a crazy whirlwind.”

She nodded.
“It was. I mean, I was caught up in the romance and fun of Vegas weddings, and you and your friends were...so different from other guys I’ve known.”

“
They were, or I am?”

“
You are,” she said, glancing over at him. But he had his face forward, eyes on the road. He drove through the quiet streets and out toward the valley, where a smattering of ranches dotted the landscape. Copper Mountain towered in the background, majestic as it was slowly revealed from underneath the clouds.

Monty turned off the main road onto a gravel drive that led to a huge red barn that had been converted into a house.
His home.

He braked to a stop and then turned off the engine, putting one hand on the wheel as he turned to face her.
“Do you ride?”

“
Not very well, but I have done it before,” she said, figuring she probably shouldn’t elaborate and tell him it had only been on a beach at an all-inclusive resort in the Caribbean about five years ago.

“
Don’t worry, I’ve got just the horse for you.”

She followed him out of the cab over to the pasture where the horses were. Up close she didn
’t know if she could ride one. They were beautiful as they roamed the paddock, but as Monty saddled two of them, quietly working, she wasn’t sure she could do it.

“
You look like a natural,” she said.

“
I should. I grew up on a ranch in the Temecula Valley.”

He did?
Her Marine was a real cowboy? “Where’s that?”

“
Southern California. Inland.”

“
Why are you in Marietta then? She asked.

“
It’s where you are.”

God, he wasn
’t going to give her any room to breathe. Or allow her to keep him at arms’ length. She had to figure herself out. Now. The hope in his eyes made her determined to do it.

Monty took his first deep breath once he was on the back of Butch Cassidy, the horse that Lane
’s older brother, Alec, had sold him. The mare, Sunshine, was a good trail horse, following Monty’s horse’s lead as he took the path toward the pasture. There, he felt he was a different kind of man. Someone who could build a different life, maybe get some cattle and start ranching the way his father had when he’d been younger.

California ranching was different from Montana
’s, that was sure. But there was a sameness to being in the saddle out on land he owned and in a place where no one had him in a rifle sight. He heard a squeaky yelp and glanced over his shoulder at Risa.

She had the reins
clutched tight in one hand and with the other held on the pommel like it was her only hope. He had guessed she wasn’t much of a rider and hadn’t been around horses a lot, but being Risa, she’d been game for the ride.

“
You okay?”

“
Yeah. I’m fine. Just getting used to being back in the saddle.”

He doubted they had enough time this morning for that to happen.
She held her body stiff and gave him a forced smile as he continued to watch her. “You sure you know how to ride?”

“
Oh, definitely. I mean I look like a pro, don’t I? And I’ve got these boots.”

“
I like those boots,” he said.

“
Thank you.”

Sunshine stopped to chew on some grass and Risa yanked weakly on the reins but didn
’t get a response. Monty turned his horse around and reached over to pull on Sunshine’s reins until the horse lifted her head. He handed them back to Risa. “Choke up some, so she won’t be tempted to put her head back down. Just a little further.”

She nodded, and he kicked his horse gently to get him moving up the path to the tree he
’d found a few days ago. At some point it must have fallen over, but the roots had been covered and it had continued to grow. It was bare and dormant now, its heavy trunk parallel to the ground before it swooped back up. He brought his horse to a stop next to it and got off, looping the reins over the horse’s neck. Butch was trained to stay.

He walked over to help Risa down.

“Thanks, I got this.”

But when she swung her leg over the saddle, it got caught, and she tumbled off the horse.
Monty took a huge step and caught her before she hit the ground, but the impact knocked him off balance and he fell backward onto the icy ground. His breath was knocked out of him but he held her loosely above him.

She craned her neck around to face him.
“You okay?”

He nodded.

She threw her head back and started laughing. “Oh, man. I didn’t want to let on that I’m not a horsewoman because this is Montana—land of the dude ranch, right? Everyone can ride out here. But damn, I stink at this.”

He laughed, too.
God, it felt good to be alive and holding Risa. He’d forgotten or rather lost that feeling. Holding this laughing woman in his arms, he was reminded of all the things that he’d been fighting for.

He lifted himself up and kissed her.
Held her close to him with his hands on her ass and she moaned as she put her hands on either side of his face, kissing him back. He kissed her with the soul-deep passion that he’d been hiding from. Passion he’d promised himself he’d keep in check. Used it to remind her what she was missing, except he was the one getting hard and turning to putty in her hands.

His blood flowed heavier in his veins, heating him up and making him forget everything except for Risa.
He cupped her butt and pulled her up against him so that he could nestle his erection right against her mound. His tongue moved languidly into her mouth and she sucked on it as she turned her head to give him better access to her.

He sat up and she shifted on his lap as the cold seeped into his jeans, and he heard the horses chewing at the grass that was just starting to poke through the ice and snow that still covered the ground.

Pulling his mouth from hers, he looked into her eyes and saw them widen as she stared into his. What was she thinking? He couldn’t tell. He could read the landscape. Figure out how to flush out insurgents. But one slim girl left him baffled, though not for long. He wanted answers, and this morning he intended to get them.

“
Coffee?”

“
Is that what you brought me out here for?” she asked, getting to her feet and offering him her hand.

He took it, not because he needed her help to stand up, but because he liked touching her.
Addiction. That’s what this was. There was no other way to describe what he felt and what was happening to him now.

He should be running the other way instead of chasing her.
She’d already shown him…that she was human and complex. He didn’t have it in him to keep the anger that had motivated him before. He was happy he’d found her, and he understood fear better than most and how it could make someone act.

“
Yes and no. I also have muffins.”

“
Oh, muffins--why didn’t you lead with that? I’m a sucker for a muffin,” she said.

“
I’ll make a note of it.” Superficial conversation and fake smiles. She’d backed off again. Hiding in her tower. Good thing he was used to fighting to get what he wanted.

He patted the back of his jeans as he went to his saddlebag and took out a plaid blanket, Thermos of coffee and a Tupperware container with muffins in it.
Risa had already walked over to the tree and had one hand on the upward-swooping branch and was staring out at the empty pasture.

He stood there watching her and feeling the cold seep through his jeans and into his legs.
And realized that, despite the questions that had yet to be answered and the future that was still so unsure, he was happy in this moment. And he hadn’t been able to say that for a very long time.