Montana Cowboy Daddy (Wyatt Brothers of Montana Book 3)

by Jane Porter

  Getting over Rory wasn’t proving to be easy. Maybe it was because the last time she saw him was at the hospital in Clovis and he’d been a bear, out of his mind with pain, but at least he was alive.

  She’d gone to the hospital to make sure he was breathing. She’d gone to make sure he’d survive.

  But looking at his poor, battered body, with all those bandages and tubes and tape, she didn’t feel sorry for him, she felt angry. He was doing this to himself. He wanted out. He didn’t care about living.

  That was why she’d wanted to have his baby. It was why she’d shown up at the arenas for over two years. She wasn’t there to watch him ride. She was there to figure out how to ask him to sleep with her. But every time she saw him, her courage deserted her. How did you ask a man like Rory to get you pregnant?

  How did you say, “Hey, I’ve loved you since I was thirteen and I’ve spent my life waiting for you, and loving you from afar, and if I can’t have you, maybe I could just have a piece of you…”

  Of course, you didn’t say it because it was crazy, and yet it hadn’t stopped Sadie from dreaming and praying.

  But then when her mom died, Sadie’s world collapsed, and she’d taken an indefinite leave of absence from the airline while she tried to come to terms with who she was, and where she was at thirty-five, and that was alone, most singularly alone. Sadie also knew she had no one but herself to blame as she’d spent her life waiting for someone, and something, that would never happen.

  But that was going to change.

  She’d already changed.

  She’d given up working for the airline to make a new life for herself in Marietta, a life that was stable, and grounded, a life that meant she was putting herself first and only dating nice, local, emotionally available men. She wouldn’t let herself think of these nice emotionally available men as boring, either. And she most definitely wouldn’t let herself compare them to Rory. It wasn’t fair to them, or her.

  But, even more significantly, she was moving forward in her desire to be a mom. She didn’t have to have Rory’s baby to be a mother. The world was filled with men, and fertility clinics, and sperm donors. She didn’t need to be married to be a mom. She didn’t need to wait. She had a home and savings, and she wasn’t getting any younger. If she wanted to have children, she needed to do it now, while she could conceive.

  That was why she was working so hard, juggling her online shabby chic business, The Montana Rose, with her job at Marietta Properties, along with the occasional babysitting/dog sitting/housesitting job. The plan was to sock away as much money as she could right now, so she could afford to take some time off when the baby came.

  Lights shone in the distance and an old white pickup truck came into view. Sadie watched as the truck slowed and parked next to the curb. The lights turned off, and the driver door swung open. Her heart did a hard, uncomfortable thump as a tall man in a sheepskin coat approached, boots and cane crunching snow, his black felt cowboy hat drawn low on his brow.

  Her heart did another hard thump, and she felt a frisson of pleasure followed by a streak of pain.

  It couldn’t be… it couldn’t…

  And yet she recognized that square jaw with just a hint of golden brow bristle and she knew that black felt hat, too. The limp, and the cane, those were new, but the rest was achingly familiar.

  Rory Douglas.

  There weren’t many streetlights in this part of town, and the small porch lights framing the doors of the old stable created two small pools of light that did little to illuminate the shoveled sidewalk or the man.

  “Sorry I’ve kept you waiting,” he said, his voice deep, hard, as hard as his carved jaw.

  She knew that voice, too, along with that firm chin and beautiful mouth that had never once kissed her, but she’d fantasized plenty. “Not a problem,” she answered huskily, legs feeling weak.

  He stopped in front of her, head lifting a fraction, his narrowed gaze settling on her face. Recognition dawned. “If it isn’t the mystery girl from the Extreme Tour.”

  Her chest squeezed closed. “Hello, Rory.”

  “Now surely this can’t be a coincidence.”

  “Actually, it is. I was told to meet Ron Douglas. Either it was a typo, or you’re using another name these days.”

  “Only when I’m back in Marietta.”

  “Why?”

  “Easier.” His head tipped, his gaze burning into her. He studied her for a long, uncomfortable minute. “It was you at St. Agnes in Fresno, wasn’t it?” he said finally.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You came to the hospital. I think I was an ass. Chased you away.”

  She couldn’t believe he remembered. He’d been so out of it, almost incoherent with pain.

  “I owe you an apology.”

  “You don’t.”

  “I said things I shouldn’t have.”

  “It’s fine,” she said finally, her insides on fire because it was.

  She hadn’t minded that he’d been short-tempered. She hadn’t minded his pain. What she’d objected to was the bull stomping on his hip and driving his head and horns into Rory’s chest.

  That was what she minded.

  “You went to get the nurse,” he added quietly, “and you never came back.”

  She struggled to smile, a professional smile, the kind she’d give clients who walked into the real estate office enquiring about a listing. “You didn’t need me there.”

  “I don’t know about that, darlin’.”

  Part of her burned, while another part of her raged.

  It was too late.

  All of this was too damn late.

  Face hot, body cold, Sadie reached into her coat pocket for the keys, not wanting to do this with him, not now. Possibly not ever. Watching him nearly die in front of her had changed her, but she’d finally woken up, thank God.

  She flashed him another tight, hard smile. “I’m supposed to let you in, show you around, and answer any questions you might have about Marietta, but since you’re from here, I can’t imagine you’ll have many questions.”

  “I do have one.”

  Her gaze met his.

  “Why did you show up to all those tour events and never come talk to me?”

  A fresh wave of heartache and heat surged through her, the heat knotting in her chest while the rest of her remained frozen. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

  “It does to me.”

  She squared her shoulders, lifted her chin. “I liked to make sure you were okay.”

  “I kept waiting for you to come back.”

  “You shouldn’t have returned to the circuit.”

  “Now you sound like my sister.”

  “She loves you. Just like everyone else in this town—” Sadie broke off, eyes stinging, a lump filling her throat, making it impossible to finish her thought. But then, he didn’t need her to finish anyway. He knew all this and more. The last thing any of them needed was her trying to insert herself into his life when she couldn’t even manage her own.

  Turning to the door, she blinked back tears she’d never let him see. Crazy to think she’d been standing here waiting for him. How impossible, how implausible to be back here in Marietta waiting for Rory Douglas?

  And just when she’d finally given him up, he appeared.

  It wasn’t fair, but then, life wasn’t supposed to be fair. Life was just life, and capricious as all heck.

  “Let’s get you inside,” she said, trying to slide the key into the dead bolt. “It should be warm inside. I turned the heater on when I first got here. It’s an efficient heater and a small space, but I think you’ll like it. You’re a little far to walk downtown from here, but there is a small convenience store and liquor store just a block over.” She was babbling, but she couldn’t help it.

  When she’d left the Fresno hospital, she’d been hurt, and confused, but she hadn’t planned on leaving him behind. But weeks later her mother died and then her world c
ame crashing in, and Sadie realized it was time to stop chasing false dreams. She wasn’t a girl anymore. She was thirty-five and single and absolutely alone, and she’d always be alone if she didn’t find someone real, and someone dependable, to love.

  Only Rory had been part of her heart so long that it’d hurt to let him go. It’d hollowed what was left of her heart, and she knew she had no one to blame but herself.

  “Need a hand?” he asked quietly.

  She shook her head, not trusting herself to speak. He wasn’t supposed to be here. He didn’t return to Marietta. McKenna said he avoided his hometown at all costs. And yet he stood tall and solid just behind her, his thick sheepskin accenting his broad shoulders and the width of his muscular chest.

  *

  Rory stood silently as he watched Sadie struggle with the key. Her hand was trembling, and he wasn’t sure if she was nervous or simply cold. She’d been waiting for over forty minutes. She had to be frozen through. He’d tried calling to say that he’d be late, due to an accident outside of Billings that had shut all traffic down, but his call to Marietta Properties had gone straight to voicemail.

  “Have you worked for Marietta Properties long?” he asked, as she tried a different key.

  “Just since the end of September,” she answered, shooting him a swift glance over her shoulder. Even in a thick puffy coat with a gray knit cap on her head, she looked heart-stoppingly pretty. “And I’m not sure why the lock is sticking. It opened right up before. Not sure what I’m doing wrong.”

  “I’m happy to try,” he said easily, aware as she went back to the first key.

  She was becoming increasingly flustered, but there was no hurry. He was happy just to look at her. When she’d walked out of his hospital room in Fresno, he knew he’d see her again, his gut told him he’d see her, but it’d never crossed his mind that he’d find her in Marietta.

  As far as he knew, there were no angels in Marietta. All the angels around here had already gone to heaven.

  “It’s my job to do this,” she muttered, trying the first key again. “How difficult can it be to unlock a door?”

  “You said you did it before.”

  She threw him a swift glance, frustration and a nameless emotion darkening her eyes. “Exactly!” And then with a shake of her head, she turned to face him, her long ponytail sliding across her shoulder in a bright gleam of copper. “Okay. I’ll give you a shot before we both freeze to death.”

  She handed him the small key ring, her fingers brushing his and he felt a crackle of energy, flashing back to the hospital and how she’d lightly touched his bicep, the only place not bandaged. Even broken and sore, he’d relished her warmth and softness. The touch had meant to comfort, but instead it stirred something in him that he couldn’t define and didn’t know how to answer.

  He wasn’t a man that settled down, and yet she made him yearn for a life he hadn’t lived or known.

  It was a shame he wasn’t younger and less scarred.

  It was a shame he’d lost his trust and innocence as a sixteen-year-old.

  Eyes narrowed, he slid the key into the lock and turned. The door opened easily.

  Sadie groaned behind him. “You made that look so easy.”

  He felt his lips quirk and he glanced back at her, taking in the high cheekbones, the angle of her jaw, the fullness of her mouth. She was so beautiful. One in a million, this angel girl.

  “After you,” he said, pushing the door open.

  She stepped into the house, turning on lights as she crossed the threshold. “It’s not very big,” she said, “but it’s got everything. You’ll be comfortable.”

  It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her that he knew, that the house was his and he’d placed it with Marietta Properties to manage for him, but somehow he knew it’d just end up flustering her. Far better to let her do her job and then sometime, another time, he could tell her when she wasn’t all pins and needles.

  “Not sure if you remember, but this is one of the original buildings from frontier Marietta,” she said, closing the door behind him and heading across the open floor plan to the kitchen. “A couple years ago someone bought it and converted it into a rental house. It’s really popular and almost always booked.”

  Rory followed her to the island, glad to see that the small snug house, reminiscent of the early homesteader cabins still dotting Montana, looked just as good as the last time he’d been here, which was just about three years ago. This stable conversion was probably his favorite renovation he’d ever done. He’d insisted that the architectural integrity of the exterior be protected, but the interior had been reimagined with new walls, windows, and roof, stabilizing the historic structure to ensure it’d survive the harsh Montana winters for another hundred years. Inside the old stable, reclaimed lumber and salvaged materials gave the new living room, bedroom, kitchen, and bath comfort and style.

  “There’s coffee in the canister next to the espresso machine, and milk in the fridge,” she added, placing the key ring on the creamy marble-topped island. “If you have any problems, don’t hesitate to call the office. I’m sure you have the number, but here’s one of the company business cards just in case.” She pulled the business card from her coat pocket and set it next to the key. “Any questions?”

  He picked up the card, scrutinizing the name and number, Natalie Hicks, President of Marietta Properties. “How do I reach you?” he asked, looking up at Sadie.

  She smiled crookedly and tugged her knit cap lower. “Natalie owns the business. You’ll want to deal with her if there’s a problem.”

  “But what if I want to talk to you?”

  “Not sure that’s a good idea.”

  “I’ve made a fortune off bad ideas.”

  Her lips twisted, her expression rueful. “True.”

  “In fact, I make bad ideas seem pretty cool.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far.”

  “No?”

  “No.” She studied him for a long moment, her faint smile fading, leaving her beautiful features stark and somber. “You have a death wish, Rory Douglas, and it scares me so much.”

  “Every bull rider does.”

  “Maybe, but most guys wise up sooner. No one stays in the game as long as you.”

  “I like life on the road.”

  “Because you don’t know how to settle down.”

  He didn’t protest. There was no point. She was right.

  “I was hoping you’d tell me I was wrong,” she said after a silence that stretched on far too long. “I was hoping you’d learned to deal with your demons.”

  “Where would be the fun in that?”

  “At least you’re honest.”

  “I’ll always be honest with you.”

  She looked away, brow furrowing. “When do you leave?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “You can drop the key off at the office, or just leave it here and the cleaning lady will return it to us.”

  “Will do.”

  She started for the door. His voice stopped her at the threshold. “Just one more question,” he said.

  She turned and faced him.

  “We never talked, but I always felt like you were there for me at each of those events,” he said. “Was it true, or was I just being wishful?”

  “I was there, but I won’t go again. Watching that bull gore you back in August was more than I could handle.”

  “It wasn’t a good night.”

  “Understatement of the year.” She tried to smile but failed, and shook her head instead. “You’re a dangerous man playing a dangerous game, and one day it’s going to catch up with you. I’m just glad I’m not going to be there when it happens.” Then she closed the distance between them and stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “But it was so good to see you once more.” She squeezed his arm and stepped away. “Unexpected but rather perfect because it’s almost Christmas.”

  And then with a last faint, wistful smile, she walked out of the snug little
house and into the cold white night.

  Find out what happens next…

  Buy now!

  More by Jane Porter

  Love on Chance Avenue series

  Book 1: Take Me, Cowboy

  Winner of the RITA® Award for Best Romance Novella

  Buy now!

  Book 2: Miracle on Chance Avenue

  Buy now!

  Book 3: Take a Chance on Me

  Buy now!

  Book 4: Not Christmas Without You

  Buy now!

  The Taming of the Sheenans series

  The Sheenans are six powerful wealthy brothers from Marietta, Montana. They are big, tough, rugged men, and as different as the Montana landscape.

  Christmas at Copper Mountain

  Book 1: Brock Sheenan’s story

  Buy now!

  Tycoon’s Kiss

  Book 2: Troy Sheenan’s story

  Buy now!

  The Kidnapped Christmas Bride

  Book 3: Trey Sheenan’s story

  Buy now!

  Taming of the Bachelor

  Book 4: Dillion Sheenan’s story

  Buy now!

  A Christmas Miracle for Daisy

  Book 5: Cormac Sheenan’s story

  Buy now!

  The Lost Sheenan’s Bride

  Book 6: Shane Sheenan’s story

  Buy now!

  Keep Up with your Favorite Authors and their New Releases

  For the latest news from Tule Publishing authors, sign up for our newsletter here or check out our website at TulePublishing.com

  Stay social! For new release updates, behind-the-scenes sneak peeks, and reader giveaways:

  Like us on

  Follow us on

  Follow us on

  See you online!

  About the Author

  New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of over fifty five romances and women’s fiction titles, Jane Porter has been a finalist for the prestigious RITA award five times and won in 2014 for Best Novella with her story, Take Me, Cowboy, from Tule Publishing. Today, Jane has over 12 million copies in print, including her wildly successful, Flirting With Forty, picked by Redbook as its Red Hot Summer Read, and reprinted six times in seven weeks before being made into a Lifetime movie starring Heather Locklear. A mother of three sons, Jane holds an MA in Writing from the University of San Francisco and makes her home in sunny San Clemente, CA with her surfer husband and two dogs.