Montana Cowboy. Jillian Hart
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Fairy tales do come true
Meeting a cowboy in an online book group feels like a fantasy to Honor Crosby. Six months later, after one less-than-perfect meeting, the rich city girl arrives at Luke McKaslin’s Montana ranch, anxious to see if their chemistry works offline. Even as Honor falls for Luke, a broken engagement has her wary of trusting any man. Faced with clashing expectations, Honor struggles to believe that love is still the greatest treasure. And that she and Luke have a fairy-tale ending in their future after all.
The McKaslin Clan: Ensconced in a quaint Montana town, the McKaslins rejoice in the powerful bonds of faith, family...and forever love.
“I can’t say that I’m glad I’m stuck in Montana, but something good has come out of this.”
“Maybe after you have fun with us and get in your social time, you’ll change your mind about Montana?” Luke said.
“I’m not sure it can be done,” Honor quipped. “But I’m liking the chance to actually make new friends.”
“Good. I’m going to change your mind.”
“Is that a warning or a threat?”
“Depends on which one will work.”
“Neither.” She tipped back her head and laughed. “I’m not going to change my mind. I’m a California girl. I miss the beach.”
“We’ve got riverbanks.”
“So not the same.”
They laughed together. He liked Honor as much in real life as he had online. As he watched her walk away, his throat tightened, making it hard to swallow. A swirl of her blue dress’s hem, a clip of her fancy shoes and a flip of her sleek honey hair and he was hooked just a little bit more.
It’s never going to happen, he told himself. Did that stop him from liking her more?
Not a chance.
JILLIAN HART
grew up on her family’s homestead, where she helped raise cattle, rode horses and scribbled stories in her spare time. After earning her English degree from Whitman College, she worked in travel and advertising before selling her first novel. When Jillian isn’t working on her next story, she can be found puttering in her rose garden, curled up with a good book or spending quiet evenings at home with her family.
Montana Cowboy
Jillian Hart
Direct my steps by your word.
—Psalms 119:133
Contents
Chapter One
“My life stinks.”
Honor Crosby could sympathize with the teenage boy trudging ahead of her through the woods. Some bug swooped at her. She batted it out of her face and ignored the flutter of something high up in the trees and tried not to think of what might be lurking overhead. A giant mosquito, a gross spider, who knew? And worse, her poor shoes. They were sinking in the squishy carpet of dead pine needles and moss, an aspen leaf skewered on one heel.
“Sure, but you don’t have to make life harder than it has to be,” she told the kid with his hangdog expression. “You waste more time trying to put off your work than actually doing it. If you jumped in and got your studying over with, you’d have more free time.”
“I don’t want to study at all. It’s summer. I don’t need to get into that stupid school and I don’t need a tutor.” He hung his head. Jerrod Lambert wasn’t a bad kid—not at all. Just an unhappy one.
Understanding filled her as she remembered being a teenager trying to handle her parents’ pressure to succeed. She knew where Jerrod was coming from, but the Lord was a great comfort and she prayed Jerrod would lean on his faith more to find solutions to his problems instead of running away from them.
“I’m not so bad of a tutor, am I?” she asked.
“Much better than the last one, but that’s not the point.” Jerrod blew out a sigh as he tromped through the underbrush and broke out into the bright sunshine. “I’d rather be dirt biking.”
“And I’d rather be at the beach club with an icy soda in one hand and my e-reader in the other.” For an instant, the remembered roar of the ocean, the sweep of the waves on the sandy shore and the chime of cheerful conversation felt so real she could almost feel herself there, where she belonged.
She missed home and her posse of friends so much she almost stumbled when her heels hit the manicured lawn. Leaving home had been an impulsive decision and not the most brilliant one she’d ever made. Montana, she mused as she pulled the leaf off her shoe heel. What had she been thinking?
“Honor?”
“What, kiddo?”
“What is it like at Wheatly?”
“It’s one of the best Christian schools in southern California.” She’d gone there as a teen and returned after college to teach English. She loved the school and the community of teachers and staff that felt more like family than coworkers. She missed them sorely, too. With the current economy, her job had been cut, since she’d been the newest teacher there. Her dearest wish was to return to her beloved Wheatly and teach once again. Maybe when the economy improved? A