To Bed A Montana Man (Montana Men) (3 page)

No, she wasn’t okay. Her mouth was dry, and her heart pounded from her chest into her head. Sweat trickled from her hairline and it had nothing to do with the heat caused by wearing her wardrobe—all of it—in layers. Her carpetbag held a special dress and a few personal effects. It hung in her hand like a hundred pound weight, making her shoulder sag. She glanced around the room feeling like a deer in a hunter’s rifle site. Train’s voice beside her brought her out of her stupor.

“He is expecting you?”

Allison could only shake her head no.

“What are you doing here?”

“Train? I thought you left.” TJ Bester descended the grand staircase leading to the second floor rooms. “Hello.” He extended his hand to Allison. “TJ Bester. A friend of yours?” he asked Train.

“Um,” he stammered. “No.”

Allison would have spoken, but her mouth wouldn’t form words. Standing before her was not an old rancher with weathered skin that she could bat her eyelashes at and manipulate into giving her a job out of pity. TJ Bester was a beautiful example of strength and masculinity with a commanding air of confidence. Her heart hammered in her chest, and not for the first time since coming to Montana Territory. They’d met before.

Familiar wide shoulders tapered into a trim waist. Strong thighs were clad in denim trousers, and he wore brown socks. His work boots sat neatly next to the door. Hair the color of coal grew thick and just a bit unruly. He was ruggedly handsome in a way that made her anxious. His eyes seemed to glow and were blue so clear she could have been gazing into still waters. 

 “Papa,” a little girl, no more than five or six, caused enough of a diversion for Allison to pull her stare away from Mr. Bester.

“Watch your brother, Sissy. I’ll be there in a minute.” He turned toward Train. “Go check the tiger. He’s in the tub.” Train took the stairs two at a time grabbing the little girl and tickling her as he turned the corner. Allison could hear her squeals even after she disappeared from view.

“Miss?” He paused for her to say her name.

“Allison Lake,” she said with a determined tilt to her chin. She was sure she looked a mess from her wet ride to the ranch. Evidently, a far cry from the woman he assisted on the train platform. With the added clothing and a few restless nights, she scarcely recognized herself when looking in the mirror. Not to mention it was late. She was tired and hungry. It had been hours since she’d eaten, and she was beginning to feel light-headed.

“You’ve come a long way. What can I do for you?”

TJ slipped his hands into his pockets and leaned against the stair railing. He knew this would be interesting.

The young woman’s fingers trembled as she opened the clasp of her small clutch. He recognized the paper she unfolded and smoothed with her hand. He felt his mouth twitch. She stared at the advertisement she must have taken from the mercantile. The next time Train went into town, he’d have him hang another one.

“I’m here to apply for the position.” She handed him the paper.

TJ laughed. He had to admit she sounded confident as she spoke. “This is a posting for a ranch hand.”

“I have two hands,” she said showing her naiveté. “I can do many tasks.”

TJ rolled his eyes.

“I can cook.”

“There are a hundred men working on this ranch at any given time. I have all the cooks I need.”

“Oh, well, that’s probably for the best. Cooking isn’t my best skill. I’m much better at housework. It would give your wife more time for herself.”

“I’m not in need of a housekeeper.”

“Oh. Um…” Her hesitation told him she hadn’t really expected to be turned away. She tugged her bottom lip between her teeth. “I can clean up after the stock. Help in the fields. Honestly, I am willing to do anything.”

TJ put up his hand stopping her from continuing. “Not only do I not need a girl who doesn’t look strong enough to lift her bag, let alone work the ranch, but I don’t have the facilities to house you. I’ve got one large building that houses all the help. More specifically, I hire men.” Some of the men he employed were drifters, others had been with him for years. This woman wouldn’t last an hour.

“I can stay in the barn with the animals.”

TJ snorted. “You’re obviously new to Montana. It’s too cold in the barns. You’ll freeze. Look outside. It snowed two feet since yesterday and we’ve still got at least another two months of heavy snows. No, now I’m sorry, but I can’t help you.”

“I understand. Sorry to waste your time.” She turned from him and reached for the door handle.

“Oh hell,” he whispered. He didn’t have to see tears to know she was struggling to keep her composure. Her breath hitched, shoulders shuddered, and then she took a deep inhale and turned the handle.

“Hold on.” He ran his hands through his hair. “You can wait until first light to go back to town.”

She turned and faced him. “I rode out with Train assuming I would be staying on as a hired hand. I would appreciate it if you could make arrangements to take me back to Copper City.” With her chin raised, back erect, she stood even with his chest.

TJ groaned. “You mean to say you traveled thirty miles for a job you should’ve known you couldn’t do? Of all the dumb—”

“Papa?” The little girl returned, followed by Train carrying a small child in his arms.

“He needs a diaper. And that is not one of my job duties.” He handed the child to TJ. “Besides, I’m done tending to the youngins.” Train opened the front door.

“I’ll need you to go to town again tomorrow,” TJ called as Train walked out.

“Can’t, boss. You’ll have to ask someone else.” The door closed with a resounding thud.

“I’ll find my own way.” Allison opened the door and went after Train.

TJ stood in the doorway and listened.

Train smiled at the young woman as she approached the rig. TJ didn’t have to wonder how she’d convinced his right-hand man to bring her back with him. The woman had a certain appeal. She was attractive, if not a little plump. The kind of woman who felt good under a man.

“I’m sorry I misrepresented myself. I really thought Mr. Bester might have a job for me.”

 “I could have told you there weren’t any women out here. Unless of course, you’re a wife.” Train leaned against the rear of the wagon and crossed his arms.

“Maybe I could talk with Mrs. Bester? She might like some help taking care of the house.”

“TJ makes all the decisions.” He walked around the side of the wagon. “I’m afraid if he said you have to leave, there’s not much anyone can do to change his mind.” Train jumped into the driver’s seat, nodded to TJ watching from the door, and set off down the hill.

Light spilled across the porch. TJ stood in the door still holding the small child. Cast in shadow, his expression indiscernible. “Come inside.”

The voice revealed nothing, yet caressed her skin with an intimidating awareness. The fine hairs on her arms prickled beneath the layers of clothing.

“We’ll get you to town tomorrow.”

Allison reluctantly went back into the house.

“Take off your coat.” He turned to the little girl. “Sissy, take our guest into the kitchen and get her something to eat. I need to get your brother dressed for bed.”

After Allison removed her coat, Sissy led her to the back of the house. At first glance, the house looked perfect.

Allison’s eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, she noticed several details hadn’t been seen to in what looked like quite a while. The wood floors didn’t shine with fresh polish. Spiders had been busy making small webs in the chandelier. And a thin layer of dust covered a mahogany table in the hall. Although there were beautiful doilies on the table, the ivory color had yellowed.

“Would you like a sandwich or leftover supper? I usually save the leftover supper for papa’s lunch, but I can make him something else tomorrow.” Sissy pulled a stool to the edge of the counter and easily climbed up. She clearly had a system for retrieving items. She crawled and hopped from one location to another in the spacious room. Finally, she jumped down and opened the stove.

“Be careful.” Allison leapt from the table and took the heavy cloth from her hand. “You shouldn’t touch the stove.”

Sissy tugged the cloth back and pulled open the oven door. She grabbed a small piece of wood from a crate and tossed it into the fire. “I know what I’m doing,” she said, and smiled. “I’m almost seven. Do you want coffee? Papa says I make the best.” She set the kettle on the stove to heat.

“Yes, I would. Can I help you?”

“You’re a guest.” Sissy took four cups from the cupboard. “I need to get my brother some milk.” Her long skinny arms shook as she lifted the heavy carafe. Slowly, she filled two cups half full. “So what do you want to eat?” she asked, setting one of the cups on the tray of a high chair sitting against the wall near the stove.

“Whatever you feel like making would be fine.” Allison wondered where her mother was.

“Here we are.” TJ put his son in the high chair and helped him with his cup of milk. “Is that coffee I smell?” he asked, smiling at his daughter.

Sissy took the hot coffee from the stove and poured both TJ and Allison a cup. Then the little girl proceeded to fill the rest of her milk cup to the top with coffee. Allison wanted to ask this father what he was thinking letting his child have coffee, especially before bed. However, her situation was precarious enough without insulting the man who offered, or rather relented and gave her shelter for the night.

While they ate, the little boy stared at her and Sissy chattered.

Twenty minutes later, TJ dismissed himself to put the little boy to bed. Allison and Sissy went into the large front room. Store bought furniture mixed nicely with homemade wooden pieces.

Sissy sat near the fire, which left Allison to sit on the sofa. There were other chairs in the room, but she wanted to stay close to the fire’s warmth. Tomorrow she might just be on the streets of Copper City.

“If you want, I’ll comb your hair for you.” Allison felt for the child. Her hair was long and tangled. “When I was young, my mother used to brush my hair after a bath. I always liked it.”

Sissy thought about it for a moment before jumping from her seat and running up the stairs.

“Sis,” TJ yelled. “Please be quiet so he can go to sleep.”

Allison smiled at the irony. TJ’s yelling right next to the little boy couldn’t be helping.

A minute later, Sissy came charging down the stairs. Once again, TJ hollered. Allison giggled.

Sissy rolled her eyes. “He’s too all-fired tired to do much more than belly-achin’. When he’s real wrathy, he’d liking to tan my backside. He tells me that, but he never does.” Sissy held a boar hairbrush with a silver engraved handle. Abalone shells decorated the back of the brush in an interesting flower design.

“When I was growing up, my mother did all the yelling.”

“My mama doesn’t say nothing.”

Allison wanted Sissy to continue, but the little girl plopped down to the floor and crossed her legs.

“You have beautiful hair.” Allison parted Sissy’s hair into small sections. Working from the roots, she pulled the snarls loose, careful not to yank on the hair and hurt her scalp. “It’s the same color as your papa’s.”

“Papa tells me I look like my mama.”

“Then your mama is very beautiful.” Sissy seemed very pleased. She smiled and her shoulders visibly relaxed.