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Forever in Love (Montana Brides)

Page 6

by Leeanna Morgan


  “What’s changed?” Sean grinned, ducking behind Nathan when he saw the scowl on his sister’s face.

  Nathan ignored his brother. “I helped dad sort out the attic last winter. They might come in handy with Catherine crawling around the house.”

  Amy poured boiling water into another mug. Nathan’s arm was buried in one of the boxes, hunting for something flicking around the bottom. “Here’s your coffee.” She left the hot drink on the table.

  His hand stopped rummaging. His gaze shifted to the coffee then back to her.

  “I haven’t laced it with poison. But I still don’t believe you got the property manager’s home number.”

  A smile lit his face from the inside out. “How much do you want to bet?”

  She blinked. The mischief in his eyes pulled her somewhere she didn’t want to go. Somewhere that involved a barn, lots of body heat and not much common sense.

  Nathan looked back at the box, a dull blush streaking over his cheeks. “I bought some paint this morning. I’ll put a coat on the gates once I’ve got them sitting in the right place.”

  Sally sat back in her chair, grinning at Amy. “Do you want a ride into Bozeman tomorrow? I’m heading into work at eight o’clock.”

  Amy thought about what she needed to do. “That’d be great. I want to buy a used vehicle and look at a few more apartments.”

  Nathan frowned. “On your own?”

  “Yes, on my own. I’m quite capable of sorting out my life.”

  He tipped the box up on its end, picking up a stray screw as it rolled across the table. “What kind of vehicle?”

  “A red pickup, but if I find a yellow one at a good price I might be tempted to buy that instead. And fluffy seat covers. Preferably black.”

  “I hope you’re kidding. Do you know anything about engines and bodywork?”

  “No, but I’m a quick learner.” Oh Lord, she hadn’t meant to say that. Heat rushed to her face. Nathan grinned and the heat got a whole lot hotter.

  “I can’t help tomorrow, but I’ll make a list after dinner of all the things you need to check. You can call me on my cell phone if you have any questions while you’re looking around.”

  “Apart from the monster list I know you’ll make, do you have any other instructions?” Amy asked.

  “No need to get prickly. I’m only helping.”

  She’d already had his help today and he hadn’t helped at all. Instead of finding somewhere to live she’d found feelings for Nathan she thought she’d buried years ago. And new ones that curled her stomach into tight knots, unraveling all the plans she’d carefully pieced together.

  “Go see Richard Adams on Durston Street. He knows what he’s talking about when it comes to trucks.”

  Amy saluted, enjoying the narrowing of Nathan’s eyes.

  Sean opened the fridge. “If we’re going to eat soon, I’ve got to get the spaghetti sauce cooking. If you’re hanging around the kitchen in the next few minutes you’ll get a job to do.”

  Sally frowned at the clock on the wall. “Goodness, is that the time? I’ve got to go and call Jodi. Yell when dinner’s ready.” She winked at Amy, disappearing fast out the kitchen door. Nathan slid the wooden gates back into their boxes. He didn’t look as though he’d be sticking around for long either.

  “What’s so bad about helping with dinner?” Amy asked.

  “Helping cook the food is fine.” Nathan stood the packed boxes on their ends and grabbed the drill. “It’s Sean that’s the problem. The man has a major tantrum if the onions aren’t cut into even little pieces. And you’re really in trouble if you mess with his secret ingredient.”

  “Which isn’t so secret anymore,” Sean grumbled. “Sally stole my recipe and added it to her school’s fundraising cookbook. Now all of Bozeman knows how to make the best buffalo spaghetti this side of the Rockies.”

  Nathan moved toward the kitchen door. “My heart bleeds for you little brother. I’ll be on the stairs if you need me.”

  Amy watched Sean stack half the contents of the fridge onto the counter. “I’m pretty good with a knife if you can be a bit flexible about your onions?”

  “Slice away. And I’m not as bad as Nathan said.”

  “Of course you aren’t.” Amy grinned and Sean laughed back.

  “Okay, I admit I do like little cubes of onion. But the thickness of the mushrooms is entirely up to you.”

  Reaching across the counter, Amy started to peel the brittle paper-thin shell off an onion. “Cubes it is.” She smiled, listening to the sound of the drill in the hallway and the hiss of the buffalo meat as it hit the hot fry pan.

  Seam hummed a tuneless masterpiece as he added tinned tomatoes, garlic and a ton of herbs and spices to another pan. Next came a good dollop of brown sugar and the onions she’d already diced.

  “Now that’s what I call family cooking at its finest,” he said.

  The knife froze in Amy’s hands. She stared at the last onion. In less than two weeks she’d be on her own again with her sister. Alone in a new house and a new job. Family wasn’t something she was used to, but she’d managed to slip back into feeling like she belonged on the ranch without a thought. She couldn’t afford to let herself enjoy life with the Gray family. She’d done that once before and her heart had broken in two when she had to leave.

  She blinked onion juice out of her eyes and kept slicing. Catherine was her family now. The only family she needed.

  Nathan stood in the front yard, watching the truck get closer. He took off his hat, using his arm to wipe away the sweat running down his face. If he wasn’t mistaken, Amy had found a vehicle. And not just any vehicle. The yellow paintwork glowed brighter than the afternoon sun. It looked like an overfed canary lumbering down his parent’s driveway. He’d never seen a truck like it and doubted anyone in Bozeman would forget it in a hurry either. He just hoped to God she’d taken the time to read his checklist before handing her money over.

  Amy had left six hours ago with Catherine and Sally, and he’d spent all day catching up on the work he hadn’t done yesterday. And trying to get Amy out of his head.

  She’d become a splinter under his skin. No matter how much he poked and prodded he couldn’t get her brown eyes and blonde hair out of his mind. It irritated the hell out of him and he planned on doing something about it. As soon as his mom and dad arrived home he’d head back to his own place. He needed Amy in his life about as much as he needed a dose of the bubonic plague.

  He rolled his shoulders, trying to relax muscles that were sore from pushing himself too hard. But it was nothing compared to the ache in his heart.

  Amy stopped the truck beside him, a huge grin plastered across her face. She wound the window down and he glanced at Catherine, sound asleep in the back seat.

  “What do you think?”

  “You bought a truck.” Hell, that had come out wrong.

  Her grin slipped. “It wouldn’t hurt to be a little more enthusiastic. It’s not just any truck. Look at the color. Look at these.” She ran her hands over a pair of fluffy black sheepskin covers hugging the front seats. “And it didn’t cost me a single dollar over my budget.”

  He frowned at the bodywork. “Did you ask all the questions I gave you?”

  Clamping her lips together, Amy reached across the truck and unzipped a side pocket on Catherine’s backpack. A piece of crumpled paper appeared in her hand. She waved it out the window and he took a step closer. In bold black letters she’d recorded every answer to each question for three vehicles. She’d even ranked the trucks in order of how reliable and affordable they were.

  He looked into her stormy brown eyes. “You did a good job. And it’s yellow.”

  “I bought it off the man you recommended. Now move your feet or you might get an up close and personal encounter with the rubber on my tires.” She revved the engine.

  Nathan didn’t need to be told twice. He moved back quick smart before she squished any part of his anatomy. A shower of loose grave
l tumbled around him, making him wonder if a mini might have been a better choice. She parked at the side of the house, sending an evil glare across the front yard. He planted his hands on his hips and Amy’s cold stare hit freezing point. She opened the back door and carefully maneuvered her sleeping sister out of the car seat.

  “Do you need any help?” he yelled.

  Amy shook her head. With a straight back and fast stride she took Catherine inside and left him feeling like the biggest fool in Montana.

  He scuffed his boots along the gravel, wondering if he could make any more of an idiot of himself. He glanced at the front door, then looked back at the truck. He didn’t know who he was more angry with; himself, his family or Amy for coming back and opening a wound that had been festering for years. Damned if he knew. But if he didn’t get something out of his system soon he’d end up snarling at everyone until there was no one left to listen.

  Walking across to the truck, he started to shut the back passenger door. Catherine’s pink bag sat beside the car seat. He stared at it, trying to figure out what wasn’t making sense. It was pink. Bright in-your-face pink. He opened the door wider, glancing at Amy’s red jacket bunched on the floor. The clothes she used to wear barely made it onto the color wheel. Apart from the things his mom had bought her, he couldn’t remember Amy ever wearing anything that made her stand out in a crowd.

  The red jacket wasn’t a color a person wore when they wanted to melt into the background. Something had changed in Amy’s life and he didn’t know if she even realized what was happening. He picked up Catherine’s bag and the jacket and carried them into the house. There was only one way to find out.

  Amy stood at the kitchen counter, staring through the picture window his mom had insisted on adding to the room. The white peaks of Bridger Range swept across the horizon, rising out of the flat valley like a giant humpback whale, plowing through Montana and into some of the most incredible scenery he’d ever seen.

  He stood behind her, feeling waves of disappointment roll off her stiff shoulders and stubborn chin. God he’d missed her. He’d missed her flashing eyes and quirky sense of humor. And the smile she used to hold close to her heart. Sometimes, when he’d caught her off guard, her smile had made him stumble, lose track of what he’d been saying and where he was going. He wanted to see her smile again.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Amy turned her head, glancing over her shoulder, then back out the window. “I don’t need an apology.”

  She walked across to the pantry, leaving him staring into open space and missed opportunities. “Yes you do. It isn’t your fault I’m not fit for human company.”

  She turned the faucet on, filling a glass with cold mountain water.

  He left the list she’d shoved under his nose on the table. “Did you go for a test drive in the truck?”

  She nodded, taking a long slow drink from the glass. “The owner of the yard had a spare car seat. The truck is easy to drive and won’t leave the road in a hurry when it snows.”

  “Good.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, feeling like a clumsy teenager. “I brought your jacket in. It’s on the coat hook in the hallway.”

  “Thanks.”

  “The truck looks good. You got the color you wanted too.”

  Amy frowned. “It was a trade-in from Wyoming.”

  He nodded, as if it made perfect sense that someone from Wyoming would drive a canary yellow pickup. “And Catherine’s backpack is pink. And you’re wearing a purple top.”

  She looked down at her tunic. “Are you turning into the fashion police?”

  “No…I’m just saying…you know.” It was official. He’d lost his marbles. Wading through a conversation with a woman who created more questions than answers had turned him into a blundering ding-a-ling.

  “What?”

  “Bright colors. All kinds of color. You used to wear brown and grey. And jeans.” He looked down at her snug black leggings and knee-high boots. She had great legs. Long legs. Legs that needed to be shown off, not covered in her normal baggy sweatpants and denim. He stared some more. He could have sworn she’d been wearing a pair of jeans when she left the ranch this morning.

  A soft blush skimmed her cheeks. “Sally took me shopping at lunchtime.”

  “What about the grey and brown things you wear?”

  “I’ve still got them. Why are you so interested in my clothes?”

  “I just wondered what had changed your mind…you know…about color.”

  Amy stared at him. Her eyes filled with curiosity, boring deep into his soul, searching for the question he wanted to ask. He knew the exact moment she found what she’d been looking for. Her eyes closed for the briefest moment, then opened. Shutters slammed down, blocking him out of her life. She wouldn’t tell him. She wasn’t ready to let him back into her life, and why the hell should she? He’d turned into a damn hermit, too wrapped up in his own life to take notice of what was going on in anyone else’s.

  “You’re not a psychologist, Nathan. If you look too closely at something you can end up with the wrong answers.”

  She didn’t realize how many wrong answers he’d found over the last seven months. He’d never understood how fragile life was until the night he’d been trapped in the burning barn. If it wasn’t for his dad and brother he wouldn’t be alive, trying to work out what he wanted, how he needed to spend the rest of his life. Since the fire he’d been second-guessing his entire existence and making everyone around him suffer.

  He cursed the wall Amy had built around herself. It reminded him too much of his own life, and he wouldn’t wish that on anyone. In a couple of days he’d be living in his own home, away from the crazy feelings she stirred up. But damn if he wasn’t tempted to push harder, poke into her life until he found a hole in the wall locking her away from the world.

  Bracing his hands on his hips he stared at her. She glared straight back.

  “What’s been going through that head of yours?” he asked.

  “Lots, but nothing you need to worry about.” She rinsed her glass and put it in the dishwasher. “I promised Sally I’d get some of her washing done this afternoon, so I’ll leave you to ponder the mysteries of the universe on your own.” She took the long way around the table.

  He moved in front of her.

  “I’m not playing games,” she said, notching her chin a little higher.

  If he didn’t know her as well as he did, he would have been fooled. She looked like a bored debutante, staring at a creature lower in her social circle than a grasshopper.

  “This isn’t a game,” he said. “It’s your life.”

  “Precisely. It’s my life, not yours.” She tried to move around him.

  “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on.”

  Amy glared some more. He could see her weighing up the odds of getting out of the room before he blocked her exit. His shoulders were nearly as wide as the door. Even in socks he still had a couple of extra inches of height and a lot more pounds stacked in his favor. She’d never make it past the table.

  “You know what’s been happening. I’m now a proud trainee big sister, part-time doctor and owner of a yellow Ford pickup with fluffy black seats. What more is there to know?”

  “Why did you choose such a bright color?”

  Amy’s hands clenched at her side. “You wouldn’t understand.”

  “Try me.”

  She stared at him, looking as lost for words as he felt. “I don’t know how.”

  He felt the weight of something heavy and unwelcome settle in his chest. He’d let Amy down. The entire time she’d been on the ranch he’d done nothing but pick holes in what she’d done. She deserved more from him than that, a lot more than he could give.

  “You’re right. It’s none of my business. But for what it’s worth, Catherine would be proud of what you’re doing. And so am I.” He moved away from the table. He needed to get back to work, leave Amy to sort out her own life. Forge
t that he’d once loved her and that she’d seemed to care about him.

  “I want to surround myself in a rainbow of color.”

  Nathan stopped.

  “I want to find sunshine. I’m tired of running.” She wrapped her arms around her middle, clutching the material of her tunic like a lifeline. “I don’t want to settle for anything but the best, for me and for Catherine. I want to be happy. Color makes me happy.”

  He took a deep breath. His shirt pulled tight against his body, straining against scars that burned deeper than any doctor had diagnosed. Amy wasn’t the only one looking for sunshine and happiness, and all of the other things he’d once taken for granted.

  “I want to live my own life, not my mothers.”

  She looked so alone, so lonely. He walked toward her, opening his arms and heart to the friendship they’d once shared. She stepped into his embrace, holding him in a fierce hug.

  As soon as his arms wrapped around her, the last nine years vanished. He didn’t need to remember how she used to melt against him. He felt it. Felt toe-curling heat spiral along every nerve ending. It caught his breath in a need bigger than anything he’d ever thought possible.

  Amy looked up and he drowned in the wash of emotions pulling him into her soul.

  His hand moved to her back, hovering gently against her waist, drawing her against his body with a force far greater than human muscle and bone.

  A thread of panic wove up his spine, but he pushed it away. He needed her touch, needed to replace years of regret with something good. Something right.

  He leaned forward, brushing his rough cheek against the side of her face, kissing her so lightly that he barely felt his lips against her skin. She breathed deeply, clutching his shirt beneath her hands, trembling in his arms like a new born calf taking its first steps in a crazy world.

  He couldn’t walk away, didn’t want to end what he’d started. He made himself relax. Closing his eyes, he let the rhythm of her body wrap him in a cloud of need. A kiss as soft as an angel’s wing touched his lips, igniting a desire that left him breathless. Her hands wound up his chest, holding him close to her body, close to her heart.

 

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