Her Montana Cowboy. Jeannie Watt

Her Montana Cowboy - Jeannie Watt


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Thad liked her...maybe more than he wanted to let on.

      Go, Ginny. Thad had been single for too darned long.

      Gus was smiling at the thought of Ginny easing Thad out of his long bachelorhood as he started back down the hill, driving on the wrong side of the dirt road to avoid the hellacious mud puddle that had formed at the bottom, just around the blind corner. The smile abruptly disappeared as he rounded the corner and found the back end of a giant car directly in front of him. He swung hard to the left, then pulled back onto the road and eased to a stop after barely missing the vehicle. Mystified, he grabbed his flashlight out of the door-panel pocket and got out of his truck, walked back to the car and shined the light on the license plate.

      Texas?

      What was a gas-guzzling vehicle from Texas doing stuck in the mud on the ranch driveway? No one, save parcel delivery rigs and seasonal hunters, ventured onto this road. Gus pushed back his hat, then stilled as he caught a movement inside the car.

      It looked like he was about to get an answer to his question...or so he thought before the head in the car ducked out of sight.

      Huh.

      He moved closer and bent forward in an attempt to see through the darkly tinted windows into the interior of the car, wondering if someone had left their dog inside to guard the car while they went for help. No...that was definitely a person in there, hunched down in the seat. Probably scared.

      “Hi,” he called. “I live on this road. Do you need some help?”

      Obviously they needed help, since their car was axle-deep in the mud.

      For a moment there was no movement, and then the person leaned across the seat and turned the key, then rolled the window down about an inch.

      “I’m Gus Hawkins. I live about five miles down the road. Can I call someone or give you a lift?”

      “You live on the H/H Ranch?”

      The voice was feminine. Husky. Nervous.

      “I do.”

      “Oh.”

      Gus waited for more. He didn’t get it. “Is that where you were going?”

      “Yes. I...uh...thought that Thaddeus Hawkins lived there. Is he a relative?”

      His insides went cold when the woman mentioned Thad’s name. Oh, please, not again.

      “He’s my uncle.”

      A shiver went through her as she stared up at him through three-inch opening in the window. He had no idea who she was, or what her intentions were toward his uncle, but he couldn’t leave her there to spend the night in her car.

      “Look—it’s cold out here. Do you want a lift?”

      “I...uh...yes. Thank you.” She scooched back across the seat and got out of the passenger side, a small dog under her arm and what looked a whole lot like a tire iron in one hand.

      “You aren’t going to conk me with that and steal my truck, are you?” he asked, starting to rethink his offer of a lift. “Because if you are, you should know that there isn’t enough fuel to get back to town.”

      In the reflected lights of the headlamps, it looked as if the woman was blushing. “I have no designs on your truck.”

      “Good to know.” He smiled, trying to look friendly, while still wondering if he wanted a woman carrying a tire iron riding with him. “These are unusual circumstances and we can sort things out when we get to the ranch, but right now I gotta tell you it makes me nervous having you armed like that.”

      “I don’t understand.”

      “I don’t know you,” he explained. You might be crazy.

      “I don’t know you,” she pointed out as the little dog lifted his lip to show his teeth in a ridiculous display of bravado.

      “I’m not carrying a big chunk of metal to hit you with. Besides—you know my name. I don’t know yours. Or why you’re here.”

      “My name is...Lillie Jean. The rest I’ll discuss with Thaddeus.”

      Gus closed his eyes, then quickly opened them again. She was carrying a tire iron, after all. “How do you suggest we come to a compromise, Lillie Jean?”

      It took her less than a second to say, “Pull me out?”

      Just what he wanted to do at 2:00 a.m. He jerked his head toward his warm truck. “Grab your tire iron and let’s go.”

      “To the ranch.”

      “Yes.” Now that he knew she was there to see Thad, he wanted to keep an eye on her. The last incident might have been online, but Thad coming so close to losing so much money had Gus on alert. For all he knew Thad may have met this woman online, and she was here for... He hated to think.

      She didn’t move, so he added, “You can either come with me, or stay with your car. There is no option c.”

      It might have been the swirl of icy wind sweeping by them that decided her, but whatever the reason, she gave a nod, hugging her dog a little closer as she did so.

      “Let me get my bag.”

      Instead of following instinct and offering to help, Gus stood back as she awkwardly balanced dog and tire iron while dragging a zippered gym bag out of the backseat. Finally she shut the door with her hip, then headed toward the passenger side of the truck. When she got inside, he had his first good look at her face in the light and found that he had to take a second. Dark hair waved around her face and fell down her back, but it was her eyes that had made him look again. Maybe it was a trick of the light, but the blue-green color reminded him of his favorite alpine fishing lake—a place he hadn’t had time to visit in well over a year.

      She placed the gym bag on the console between them, forming an impressive barrier, then settled in her seat, fastening her seat belt as Gus shut his door. He had no idea what she’d done with her weapon, and as he started back down the road, he tried to put himself in her position, assuming that she wasn’t there for a nefarious purpose. A lone female in the middle of nowhere with no cell signal and only a dog in a reindeer sweater for protection. Of course she was nervous.

      But why was she traveling to the ranch, and how did she know Thaddeus?

      Why would she come to the ranch without calling first?

      Gus hoped that he really was rescuing the woman rather than giving trouble a ride to the ranch, but his gut told him that a woman who gave her name reluctantly was not a woman he wanted staying at his place.

      * * *

      LILLIE JEAN KEPT her eyes forward as the truck bounced over ruts and skirted vehicle-eating puddles. This situation was surreal. She was no longer in control—of anything, it seemed—but she did her best to appear unconcerned about her lack of power.

      “How long were you stuck?”

      Lillie Jean gave her rescuer a quick sideways look. He had a strong profile, high cheekbones. A chin that kind of said, “Don’t mess with me.” Dark brown scruff covered his jaw, but it looked as if it was the result of forgetting to shave, rather than an affectation, as was often the case where she came from. She thought his hair might be dark blond, but too much of it was hidden by the battered cowboy hat to be sure. He did not look like someone who would hurt her, but she was in the middle of nowhere and he was a stranger, so she was taking no chances. Henry also kept an eye on the guy while pressing his warm body against her chest. Her little dog was taking no chances, either.

      “Since around four o’clock.” She’d arrived in the small town of Gavin around three o’clock and decided to drive to the ranch, take a look at her inheritance, meet her grandfather’s partner, then head back to town and stay in a motel for the night. She should have gone with her other plan of heading out to the ranch first thing in the morning, but she had a feeling she would have still gotten stuck.


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