Sleepless in Montana

by Cait London

  “Women,” he said in a hushed, frustrated tone. “Women.”

  “Amen,” Ben added darkly.

  Mitch leveled a look at Hogan. “I’d appreciate you not interfering with Carley and me.”

  Hogan lifted his glass and studied the fine amber swirls. Mitch was on edge, ready to fight anyone, anything, and he wasn’t ruining Hogan’s pleasant mood. “How so?”

  “Carley pushed me into telling how I got these scars. She kept digging until she set me off, and I told her things I’ve never told anyone...” Mitch’s face was dark with anger. “You’re to blame, Hogan. Then she kissed me goodnight as if nothing had happened.”

  Ben shielded a smile, and Mitch refilled the glasses of wine. “You think I’d want Carley to know those things about me? How bad it was? You’re sitting there smiling, and none of this is funny, Hogan. I felt like I was spreading garbage all over her. She’s too sweet and innocent, and—”

  Hogan ached for Carley, tearing through the shielding layers they had wrapped around her. “Carley wants the truth from now on, Mitch. It’s only fair. You know all about her nightmares. Maybe she wants to know about yours.”

  Mitch glared at Hogan. “Fine. Now she does, so stay out of it.”

  His temper eased, Mitch took a long slow look at Hogan’s living room. “Holy— No wonder Aaron is dragging his butt. I knew he was running all over the countryside buying carrots, but she must have—”

  Hogan lifted his glass in a toast; everything seemed to be just right somehow. “To Aaron and old Jubal and the almighty carrot juice. Ben, you’re taking a gallon of that home.”

  *** ***

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Carley has been picking at Jemma all day. Jemma has been taking it, like she deserved it. But now she’s starting to snarl—” Aaron nodded to where Carley had just leaped from her saddle.

  Dressed in jeans and chaps and a Stetson, she’d been driving cattle to the temporary branding station. Now the rope stretched tautly between her saddle horn and the calf. Near the branding fire, Ben flopped the calf to the ground and expertly whipped a rope around its legs. Dinah inoculated it and Hogan burned the Bar K brand on its rump.

  Hogan freed the calf and as it scrambled away, he downed another that Mitch had just driven into the branding station.

  It was ten o’clock in the morning, and they’d worked since four, driving the cattle into the pasture. Hogan ran his forearm across his sweaty face. The roundup and the exercise had momentarily relieved the tension of Carley’s stalker, and Hogan was enjoying the physical strain, the familiar ritual of ranch life. “We’re late with this, Ben. July heat and branding fires don’t mix.”

  “Should have been done two weeks ago, but I had my mind on other things. First of July is okay in a pinch,” Ben said, releasing the branded calf. An inspector would check the brand, if cattle were sold or transported to another county. “There. That ought to keep the cow cop happy.”

  “Other things? Such as?” Hogan couldn’t resist teasing Ben about Dinah, just to see him get flustered. It was a new, enjoyable entertainment, watching Ben try hard to change for his lady love.

  “Hogan, damn it, you’re just as perverse as ever. You know that Aaron and I have been reading books about men and women’s relationships, and watching soap operas to see what gets to women. All that takes time. It’s like hunting. You’ve got to know the game and how they think. You and Mitch seem to have a handle on that, but Aaron and I are just catching up.”

  Ben straightened and rubbed his back as Carley tromped up to Jemma, who was on foot, hugging and shooing a calf toward them. “Holy— Here it comes.”

  Hogan stood up and reached for the jar of iced water Dinah had just handed him. Carley had been pushing Jemma since early morning, the first time that they’d been in the same area for a week. He hated feeling helpless as Jemma worried about Carley and mourned their friendship.

  Jemma’s floppy Panama hat and cutoff shorts were suited to the sweltering July morning, and her temper was just as hot. From the look of Jemma, she’d passed the point of apologizing and backing away from Carley’s mean mood.

  Hogan had been waiting for just that wide-open, fire-woman look from Jemma, and it was time for the women to settle. “Let them go. We can’t settle it for them.”

  Ben’s blue eyes skipped to his son’s black ones. “Fine talk for someone who’s been sheltering Jemma for the past week. Carley is in an evil mood, hammering at everyone. She’s mad as a hornet.... I think she’s jealous that you haven’t come around on her side. She’s mean enough now to take on that stalker and scalp him.”

  “I’m not choosing sides on this one. Jemma knows that. Carley is just working to get it out.” Hogan was confident about Jemma’s strength, that she would survive without Carley’s friendship. But would she leave him, if that relationship and tie to his family was gone?

  “You’re in this, no matter what you say,” Ben noted. “That woman of yours has got you stirred up. Son, you’re almost emotional. You’ve got that damned if I do, and damned if I don’t look.”

  “I’ll be glad when it’s over. Both the argument between Carley and Jemma, and getting the stalker,” Hogan admitted grimly.

  The sight of Jemma crying over the dinner he had cooked the night before— which reminded her of a Carley-time— had been unnerving.

  Waking up at two or three in the morning to hear the juicer humming, or to find Jemma sitting on the couch and crying over old movies had been frightening. He’d put a television set into the bedroom, so he could hold her close while she watched movies. Massaging her body had relieved her taut nerves, but had caused his body to ache.

  “Well, we’ve got to know each other a bit during all this mess. That’s one good thing,” Ben said reverently. “You’re a fine man, Hogan Kodiak. I’m proud to call you my son.”

  Hogan nodded, shielding his face by looking off to the arguing women. But his heart was full, and maybe he was a bit emotional. Just maybe he was close to forgiving his father, it would take a hard heart to hold on to the old grudges when Ben was trying as best he knew, and when he was so happy with Dinah and his family.

  “Well, hell.” Hogan said finally, in the style his father used, “Maybe I’ve got a good man for a father.”

  Ben’s hissing breath told Hogan that he had been caught unaware by the return. When Hogan turned to look at him, Ben winked. “I’m wanting those grandkids out of you. I need some crayon drawings on my refrigerator, like every other grandpa I know.”

  Hogan shook his head and grinned. “When she’s feeling up to speed. Jemma is one fast mover.”

  Ben returned the grin. “You’ll have to catch her on the run and get a ring on her finger. She’s changed, too. The two of you are good together: one running at top speed, everything wide out in the open, and the other steady as a rock. That’s a good team.”

  Hogan removed the sweaty red bandanna wrapped around his forehead and tossed it aside. Jemma feared having children and the restraints of a relationship. Hogan studied his father. “You did the best you could, Ben. I made it.”

  “It was a poor, sad life for a child with you carrying most of the burden, and me drinking for that spell.”

  A quick flash of his dark childhood slid across Hogan’s mind, then dimmed. He’d found more in his homecoming than he’d expected.

  He saw Ben differently now, recognizing a love for a woman in another man. Hogan had reminded Ben of Willow every day, and that must have hurt terribly. If anything happened to Jemma, Hogan wasn’t certain of how he would feel or what he would do, but he knew that part of his heart would be gone.

  That must have been how Ben felt with Willow’s death and when Dinah left him. “I’m working it out. I’m looking forward to playing a bit when this is over— with Jemma. Do you think you can work it out?”

  “Stop telling me what to do!” Carley shouted. “I’m sick and tired of you. ‘Take it easy with the baby calves’ isn’t what we’re here for. Miss Pri
ssy Jemma.”

  Experienced in new-Carley’s wrath, Mitch settled back into the shade of Ben’s pickup with a jar of ice water; he looked as though he would wait out the brewing thunder-and-lightning argument and hole up a safe distance away.

  Aaron, Ben, and Hogan came to lean against the pickup with Mitch, each man sipping his ice water. A scarf tied around her head and dressed in a simple cotton blouse and jeans, Dinah stood stark still, pale and shaking. She covered her mouth with both hands. Ben walked to her and wrapped his arm around her.

  A few yards away, Carley’s voice hitched up a note. “Don’t you tell me how to treat my family. They’re not yours.”

  “They have been my family.”

  “Squatter,” Carley shot at her.

  Jemma took off her hat and slapped it against her bare thigh. “We’ve been all through that. You told me to think of them as my family, and I did. You put an offer on the table, Carley. I took it. It’s too late now to kick me out so easily. You want some of this? Well, I’m good and ready. Come ahead.”

  “You’ve stuck your nose into my life for the last time. I don’t need your protection. I never did. You were always there, making nice for me—’’

  Jemma’s face was white, her ponytail a sunlit mass of vibrant, shaking curls. “I did what I thought was best.”

  “You thought! You thought! I can do my own thinking!” Then Carley leaped upon Jemma and both women went down into the dust.

  “Do something,” Dinah cried softly. “They’ve been friends for so long. They’ve been more like sisters.”

  “They’re sorting things out,” Hogan said, and prayed that they would be friends again. Every cell in him wanted to tear them apart, to make them listen to reason, but both were set in their path.

  They had circles under their eyes, and Jemma’s nights in his bed were restless, her mind distracted during the day. He wanted all of her with him, not a shell. “They can’t settle it, if we’re in there keeping them apart.”

  “When this is over, I’m getting married,” Aaron said longingly as the women rolled over and over, dust clouds flying up around them. “I’m building a better house on my land and setting up an office. I miss Montana too much. And I want kids, and a porch swing. Why do you think it’s taking the stalker so long to make his move?”

  “He hasn’t had a chance to get to her. He’d be smart not to tackle her now, not with the butt-burning mood she’s been in.” Mitch sighed slowly and shook his head. “I thought I might buy a little section of land out here for a boy’s ranch— kids from the inner-city, like me. I’ve decided I’m going to adopt Jimmy, one way or another.”

  “What’s that they’re arguing about now?” Ben asked, frowning at the brawling, yelling women in the dirt.

  “Carley is really getting it all out.... She just said that when they were twelve, she wanted to see a horror movie, and Jemma wouldn’t let her see that much blood.”

  “Mitch, why are you buying land when you’ve already got a good share of the Bar K?” Ben asked, without looking away from his daughter and Jemma.

  “That’s Kodiak land. I didn’t think—”

  Ben cursed. “Those two are scrappy, full of it. You think we should separate them? Mitch, I don’t want to listen to any manure about you ‘just being adopted’ or your share of Kodiak land. We’ll figure out the best spot for what you want and build the damn thing,” he said.

  He leaned down to better watch Carley and Jemma. “How long do you think this is going to go on? Bets?”

  “Stop it, Ben. You boys get over there and put an end to it,” Dinah ordered, tears in her eyes.

  “Now, honey. Hogan is right. They need to burn this one out.”

  “You?” Carley yelled. “You need me, Jemma Delaney. You can no more fish than you can butt out of everyone’s business. You’ve got about as much patience as a fire in a fast wind. I’m going to show that producer the real stuff. I know how to camp and I know fishing.”

  “Oh, no, you’re not. I set this up. I’m running this show. And you’re not taking that plum away from me. I’ve done all the work, and I’m making a mint on that show.”

  Hogan shook his head and emptied his jar of ice water over his head. He looked out onto the Bar K’s pastures, to the snow-capped mountains in the distance, and wished he were in his studio where life made sense.

  He couldn’t bear another night of Jemma calling out to Carley in her sleep, of the tears in her eyes as she stood watching the Kodiak ranch house.

  He wasn’t certain if Jemma stayed with him because she’d been exiled and her producer was due to arrive, or if she really wanted to be with him. At any rate, he wanted Jemma to concentrate on him, and it had been a long stretch between lovings. While Jemma tossed in the late hours, he’d been sketching, trying to find the images swirling within him.

  He surveyed the bawling, restless herd; Kodiak tempers were stretched too thin waiting for the stalker to make his move.

  The oil rag had belonged to Jackson Reeves, who blurted out— under Hogan’s prodding— that he didn’t know who paid him well for the use of the truck. Jackson would park it in a wooded clearing and come back to find a fat envelope on the seat. The truck had been gone the day of Joe’s death.

  Hogan inhaled slowly and gauged the yelling match, which didn’t look like it was winding down. To keep himself from interfering, he would keep busy— if he could.

  “Let’s do it,” he said, swinging up on Moon Shadow to run down another calf.

  It took all Hogan’s willpower not to go to that creek bank and see if the two women were all right. He realized through the branding process that he was frightened of what Jemma would do, if she were accepted back into Carley’s arms and into the Kodiak ranch. He wanted Jemma with him, in his life. He wanted to protect her, but for her own good, she had to settle with Carley. Jemma was a woman who made up her own mind.

  With the air of a man who had just discovered he was very fragile, Hogan sighed and set back to work.

  At noon, Jemma and Carley came over the bank, walking a distance away from each other. Both were looking like thunderclouds. Jemma pulled out the tiny hair brush she had stuck in his back pocket and began untangling her hair. Hogan waited and when she pushed the brush back in his pocket, he smiled

  Everything was back to normal, but with an equal spin for Carley and Jemma. This time Carley could hold her own.

  “I’m going home to take a nice long bath, eat a ton of chocolate, sleep on your fancy satin sheets, and forget about Carley’s evil temper,” Jemma stated darkly.

  Hogan stood very still. Jemma had said “home.” She was coming back to stay with him.

  “You’re not going anywhere, you sissy,” Carley muttered. “Unless you can’t take it.”

  “I can take it.” Jemma caught Hogan’s face in her muddy hands and looked up at him as though nothing mattered but him.

  She tugged him close for a hard kiss. “Thanks. I know it must have cost you not to interfere, but I think we’ll make it now.”

  She returned Hogan’s brief kiss and gave him another one, because he suspected she wasn’t letting anyone do more than her. “I’m sorry that you haven’t been able to work and that I’ve kept you so busy. You’ve been very patient— except that time you yelled at me for getting up on the roof to clean the skylight. And when I wanted to rearrange the furniture— and a few other things. You’re a man who doesn’t like changes, Hogan. I know it must have been hard on you, waking up at midnight to find me cleaning.”

  “Are you better now?” he asked Jemma while Carley bent her head beneath the water-cooler spigot and let it run over her.

  “Much. She still loves me,” Jemma whispered in his ear. “We’ll be okay.... Hey! Water girl, save some of that for me.”

  “Lay off, Miss Priss,” Carley volleyed back without menace.

  Hogan hooked Jemma back against him, holding her tight. He loved Jemma, and her happiness was his.

  He buried his face in her t
hroat and caught that feminine scent that could set his body humming. He wondered if she was wearing those tiny slinky panties beneath her jeans— or nothing at all, but he intended to find out. “Let’s go swimming down the creek when this is over— naked.”

  “You’re on.”

  “I intend to be on and in,” he drawled softly, just to watch her blush.

  Jemma looked away to Carley, who had just leaped upon Mitch, bearing him to the ground. She locked her arms around him and kissed him until he groaned, his hands lowering—

  “That’s enough, ladies.” Hogan chuckled and tipped his hat back. He stopped smiling when Jemma turned to him.

  He went down in the grass, happily flattened by Jemma’s squirming body and heated by her wild, hungry kisses.

  *** ***

  Damn them. The Kodiaks were playing in the middle of hard ranch work. They should have been frightened.

  They knew what he could do, he’d sent them warnings. The Kodiaks were living as though they were not frightened, and that stupid arrogance infuriated him. He’d make them fear him.

  Carley had just leaped upon that outsider, Mitch. “You shouldn’t have done that. That only makes me more angry. He isn’t worthy of you, dear Carley. Only I have the right to—”

  The stalker frowned darkly and lowered his binoculars. An expert at driving down the country road and using the binoculars, or his night-viewing ones, he wouldn’t be noticed. “You really shouldn’t have done that,” he repeated.

  He’d seen Carley at the drugstore, blushing as she glanced at him. Recognizing the flat, small plastic pill container, he knew what the pharmacist had put in that little white sack. Carley had set her mind to having sex with the outsider.

  A wave of pure rage burned through him, his fist hitting the steering wheel. Carley was meant for him. She should have kept herself pure for him, not opening her body for that foreign-looking Chicago tough.