Forever Dreams (Montana Brides)

by Leeanna Morgan

  “Don’t stand there looking like a fish out of water.” Doris’ voice cut through most of the conversation spinning around the room. “Grab yourself a chair and come and say hello.”

  Karen smiled at her friend. “Kristina! It’s good to see you. How was Idaho?”

  A tight smile settled on Kristina’s lips. “It was fine. Alex did well.” She stared at the chair Doris had pulled out. “Umm…I really can’t stay. I forgot to pick something up for Jim. Bye.” She disappeared out of the café quicker than she’d arrived.

  Karen watched Kristina leave. “That’s not like her. I hope everything’s alright.”

  Doris turned back from staring out the window. “Someone’s put a twizzel in Kristina’s tail. From the way she marched down the street I’d say there’s something going on that she doesn’t want us to know about.”

  “Maybe Alex hurt himself again.” Jessie chipped in. “The doctors over in Billings gave him merry-hell after the last fall he had. Told him he wasn’t to get back on any bulls this side of Christmas.”

  Doris rearranged the periwinkle blue cardigan around her shoulders. “When have you ever known those Green boys to do what’s best for them? When God created that family he swiped all the boys with the same brush. Just look at Jacob. He’s so busy making gold out of everyone’s misfortune that I wonder how he sleeps at night.”

  “He’s not as bad as that.” Karen looked across at Gracie. “Jacob owns a construction business. He buys ranches and builds large homes and apartment buildings on the subdivided land.”

  “And half the town don’t think much of his career,” Doris said. “The half that are holding onto their land by the skin of their teeth.”

  Karen stirred her coffee. “Maybe Kristina’s a bit flustered now that Jim’s on his way home.”

  Even to Gracie’s ears, her explanation rang hollow. “When’s Jim due back?”

  “Either late tomorrow night or early the next day. He was still trying to book his flights when I last spoke with Kristina.”

  “Here you go.” Tess left Gracie’s apple pie and hot chocolate on the table. “Don’t worry about Kristina,” she whispered. “Doris and Jessie find something interesting in every little thing that happens around here.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with our hearing either,” Doris said. “And you mark my words. If more people took an interest in the workings of this town we wouldn’t be in half the trouble we’re in.”

  Tess rolled her eyes. “I’m sure everything’s alright with Kristina and her family, Doris.” She turned toward Gracie and winked. “Enjoy the pie, and don’t forget to show me your dress before you leave.”

  Gracie’s suitcases had been sitting in her room for the last two days, waiting for her trip to Las Vegas. The new clothes she’d bought in Bozeman took pride of place in her neon pink bags.

  “Are you ready to go?” Trent stood in the foyer, hollering up the stairs as if he was rounding up a herd of cattle.

  Poking her head over the banister, Gracie yelled back, “I’m on my way. I’ve just got to check my makeup case.”

  Throwing a spare mascara into the bottom of her bag, she zipped it up. Even though she had serious misgivings about going anywhere with Trent, she figured it couldn’t be much worse than spending the weekend with him on the ranch.

  She’d tried everything she could think of to keep her distance. But her misbehaving body kept whispering sweet nothings about a lonesome cowboy that had a hunkering for marital bliss. She’d ignored every accidental touch, turned away from the liquid heat in his gaze and tried really hard to stamp down on her wayward thoughts. And so far, it seemed to be working. Almost.

  Dividing the evenings between Jordan and Karen had provided the perfect cover at night and the days had looked after themselves. Keeping busy with the cowboys on the Triple L had been easy, until she’d gone fencing with Trent. There was something altogether tempting when a man took off his shirt to cool down. Way too tempting. Her sore back and legs were nothing compared to ache coming from other parts of her deprived body.

  Hauling three suitcases to the top of the stairs, she put them on their sides and gave them a gentle nudge toward the bottom. “There you go. Three cases and one carry-on all accounted for. Let’s go.”

  Trent walked up to meet the bags halfway down the staircase. “Haven’t you forgotten a bag? I’m sure you came into the country with four. We’ll be gone for a whole two and a half days.”

  Sticking her nose in the air, Gracie grabbed a case and stepped off the last tread. “Actually, I arrived with no luggage apart from my trusty carry-on. And you’ve got the right number of suitcases in front of you. I’m traveling light.”

  Trent made a scoffing noise as he lined her suitcases up beside his one overnight bag and suit hangar. “God bless you honey, you sure know how to make a man happy.”

  “Don’t talk too soon.” Gracie slung her carry-on over her shoulder. “I’ve got two days of shopping ahead of me.”

  The airport shuttle drove down the Strip in Las Vegas and Gracie didn’t know which way to look. Resorts loomed on each side of them, each one more spectacular than the last. “Did you see the lights on the fountains over there, Trent? Ooh, look at that one.” She stared in amazement at the hotels lining the street. Disneyland rubbed shoulders with Paris and the Wild West tried to overshadow a giant Egyptian pyramid.

  Trent leaned forward. “This is our stop.”

  Gracie turned and looked at where he was pointing. Her jaw dropped and she couldn’t move an inch. “This can’t be where we’re staying.”

  “The Venetian Hotel. Over four thousand guest rooms ready and waiting for action.”

  Gracie ignored the mischief in his eyes. “Don’t get too excited. The only action your room will be seeing, Trent McKenzie, is the sight of a shoe coming through the door if you come anywhere near me.”

  Hauling himself out of the shuttle, he held out his hand. “Watch your step onto the sidewalk, Gracie. I’d hate that foot to get permanently lodged in your mouth.”

  Mumbling under her breath, she jumped free of the door. As she turned to grab her carry-on, she nearly fell over backward. Music and light spilled from the hotel. Huge painted murals, framed with thick ropes of gold, decorated the ceiling of the covered entrance.

  “Oh-My-God. Would you look at that?”

  “You’re catching flies again.” Trent turned to look at the entrance. “Wow.”

  “I saw the making of this hotel on a documentary back home.” Gracie didn’t know which way to look first. “This is so exciting. It’s an exact replica of Venice right down to all the stonework, and gondolas, and canals, and…”

  Trent laughed, grabbing her hand as he pulled her toward the entrance. “Come on, short-stuff. The man’s waiting to take our bags in.”

  The hotel concierge navigated with practiced agility through the crowd of people standing in the hotel lobby. Camera flashes lit the foyer as people focused their lenses on the ceiling. It all seemed a little odd, until Gracie followed the direction of their cameras.

  “Look up, Trent. It’s the Sistine Chapel.” Stretching all the way from the hotel registration desk to the casino entrance, thick gold plaster framed a replica of Michelangelo’s angels and saints.

  Trent left her staring at the ceiling while he went across to check them into the hotel. “Are you happy if we drop our bags off, then find somewhere for dinner?” He passed her the keycard to her room, laughing at the expression on her face. “Something tells me we’re not going to get much sleep tonight.”

  “Something tells me you’re oh so right,” she smiled. “Who needs sleep when a girl can get lost in the streets of Venice?”

  Gracie’s suite was breathtaking. She stared at all the gadgets and furniture, not quite believing that any hotel would provide this much luxury for their guests. She had her own living room and dining area. A beautiful silk canopy fell either side of the king size bed. Carved furniture and brocade drapes added more than
a touch of glamour to the room she’d call home for the next couple of days.

  When she saw the huge sunken bathtub surrounded by marble tiles, she thought she’d died and gone to heaven. Lots of little colored bottles of complimentary lotions and potions were begging to be investigated. She nearly closed the door and ran a bath then and there. If it hadn’t been for the lure of the Venetian streets waiting to be explored, she could quite easily have passed more than a few hours enjoying the luxury surrounding her.

  Grabbing her keycard, she closed her door and knocked on the room beside hers. “Are you decent in there?”

  The door swung open to reveal a grinning cowboy. “As decent as I’m ever going to get, honey.”

  Gracie stepped into an exact replica of her own room, right down to the gift basket of goodies sitting on the dining room table. “What do you think of your room?”

  “Pretty fantastic to a cowboy more used to the inside of a log cabin. Have you managed to unpack all of those clothes yet?”

  Gracie laughed as she watched him unzip his overnight bag. “No, not one dress has made it into the closet. There’s plenty of time for that later. I just want to get down into the streets of Venice. And Trent?”

  He looked up.

  “I’ve been living in your log cabin and you’ve got nothing to worry about. Your home beats this glamour-puss hands down.”

  Throwing his bag into the bottom of the closet, he took her hand. “On that cheery note, let’s go paint Venice red, my dear.”

  After Trent registered for the conference, they explored the hotel. Everywhere they looked people were enjoying the sights and sounds of a temperature controlled Venetian evening. From shorts and t-shirts, to diamonds and fur, all types of tourists were walking along the boulevards and canals, looking at the attractions or looking to be seen.

  Leaning over one of the bridges spanning the Grand Canal, Gracie stared into the water. “Look how blue and clean the water is.”

  Gondolas meandered up and down the waterway. The sound of Italian songs filled the boulevards as gondoliers sung to their passengers. Trent moved closer to Gracie. If she leaned any further over the bridge she’d tip head first into the water she’d been admiring.

  “Have you ever been to Venice, Gracie?”

  She looked over her shoulder. “No, but I bet this little slice of Italy is just about as good.” She waved to some laughing tourists as they floated toward her. “Let’s go for a gondola ride.”

  “How about food first? I’m starving.”

  “Okay, but it’s my shout. No arguing.”

  Trent frowned at her. “Shout? You have some of the most confusing ways of speaking, Gracie Donnelly. I take it a ‘shout’ means you want to pay?”

  “The man is positively brilliant. Let’s find some food.”

  They eventually came across the Canaletto, a beautiful Italian restaurant overlooking St. Marks Square.

  They ordered pizza and Trent pulled a chair out for Gracie. “A glass of prosecco for madam?”

  “Now look who’s talking in riddles.”

  “Italian champagne. Would you like a glass?”

  “Yes, please. How come you know about prosecco?”

  Trent nodded at a waiter circling the tables. “I had a four month holiday in Italy a few years ago.” He grinned at her expression. “Even cowboys get to leave the ranch occasionally.”

  “It must have been a bit more up-market than my backpacking adventures around Europe. Going to the Beerfest in Munich was about as classy as I managed to get.” A quartet of musicians started playing a mini concert in the Square. Gracie nodded at the crowd listening to the music. “That’s the third bridal couple I’ve seen since we’ve been sitting here. Do you think they’re trying to tell you something?”

  “Like maybe we should get married and live happily-ever-after?”

  “Dreams are free, cowboy.” Gracie bit into a slice of pizza. “Yum, this tastes amazing.”

  He grunted. She’d already turned his offer down once. The chances of Gracie changing her mind were almost zilch, but he’d bet on worse odds before. He swirled the wine in his glass.

  “So what have you been doing to find Ms. Right?”

  “Nothing, Ms. Wrong. I figure at this stage in the game either fate will take a leading hand and throw someone at my feet or I’ll have to pay someone to do the deed with me.”

  Gracie eloquently raised her eyebrows. Mozzarella cheese dripped down her chin. “Well, you’ve come to the right city. Imagine the possibilities if you’d come alone. You could have brought a blushing bride back to the Triple L and introduced her to the family as Mrs. McKenzie.”

  “There’s still time, honey.” The little frown on her forehead told him his comment hadn’t gone unnoticed.

  “Well, while you’re contemplating the next Mrs. Trent McKenzie, I’m going to have a look at the dessert menu. The pizza was far too healthy for my first night in Venice.”

  By midnight Gracie was ready to call it quits. They’d toured the shops of the Grand Canal until their feet were sore. They’d licked sorbet and gelato from sugar cones in the marketplace and enjoyed mugs of hot chocolate in the Tintoretto Bakery.

  On their way back into the hotel she’d bought some beautiful Venetian glass jewelry boxes. Clutching them carefully in her hands, she listened to the music filling the elevator as they rode up to the twenty-first floor. “I’ve had a great night. What time do you want to meet for breakfast?”

  “I’ve got to be at the conference by eight thirty, so how about we meet at seven? Whoever’s ready first can bang on the other persons door.”

  The elevator doors pinged open and Gracie headed toward her room. “I’ve got a hot date with the bathtub all lined up, complete with every smelly potion I can find.”

  Trent gazed at her, a wicked smile slipping across his face. “If you need a hand to wash your back, just holler.”

  “Don’t wait up,” she grinned. “I like my baths deep, hot, and on my own.”

  “Spoilsport.”

  Opening her door, she turned to Trent. “Sweet dreams. I’ll see you at seven.” She blew him a kiss as the door shut in his face.

  Trent glanced down at his watch. Seven o’clock and he’d heard nothing from the room next door. He put his key card in his pocket and knocked on Gracie’s door. “Are you ready?”

  A muffled voice came from the other side of the door. “I’ll be ten seconds.”

  Yep, he thought. Caught having a snooze. The door opened. Gracie stood dripping in the doorway, a black towel pulled tight around her body and a sheepish look in her eyes. “Sorry. I’m not quite ready.”

  He cleared his throat. “No kidding, short-stuff.” His breathing almost stopped as he followed a water droplet dripping down the side of her face, disappearing between her breasts. Jamming his hands in his pockets, he held onto the lining for dear life in case he was tempted to do more than look.

  It was just as well Gracie had no idea of the thoughts racing through his brain, and other more obvious places. She’d run a mile if she came close to guessing what he’d like to do with all five-foot-one of her, standing almost naked in front of him.

  A family came out of the room opposite, staring with open mouths at Gracie. She pulled him through her door. “Wait here. I won’t be long.”

  He looked around her room, sucking in a few deep breaths. At some stage she’d attempted to unpack. Two empty suitcases were piled on top of a table and the other one sat open on the end of her bed. It looked like a squirrel had ransacked its contents, sending clothes flying in all directions.

  “Ready.”

  He glanced up. Gracie wore an orange sundress with a deep blue cardigan thrown over the top. Her eyes sparkled with excitement, the damp ends of her hair making something twist deep in his gut. “That was quick. I thought I’d be here half the morning waiting for you.”

  “No way, handsome. Vegas awaits. I’ve already been to the gym this morning. You should see it; all the latest
wiz-bang exercise equipment you could imagine is up there.” She ran back to her bed, hunting in her suitcase for something. A pair of sandals appeared in her hand. “I can’t wait to start exploring the streets.”

  He grinned at her enthusiasm. “Let’s go and get breakfast. While I’m sitting listening to the latest news on environmental stewardship, you can be kicking up a storm in Vegas.”

  Gracie groaned in pure bliss. She’d booked a massage and full makeover at the Canyon Ranch Spa. At the end of a hot day spent walking from casino to casino, she’d needed the gentle kneading to sooth her tired muscles and re-energize her body for the night ahead.

  After the massage, she floated through to the lounge area and sank into a luxurious sofa. Closing her eyes, she let her mind wander. This was so much better than feeding animals and digging fence posts. An image of Trent with his shirt off and sweat running between his shoulder blades filled her mind. Fixing fences had major side benefits as long as it wasn’t her on the end of a post digger.

  Biting her bottom lip, Gracie remembered the way Trent’s eyes had crinkled at the corners when she’d thrown his shirt at him. The next time she’d looked into those eyes, she’d seen a heat so raw blazing from their depths that she almost forgot she wasn’t the woman Trent needed in his life. And that he wasn’t the man for her.

  Gracie knew there was only so much muscle a woman could stand before she did something she’d regret. So she’d run. Straight into Daisy, who’d snuck up behind her to munch some grass. Trent had given her a lopsided grin and taken his sweet time clicking the domes of his shirt together.

  She’d learned one very important lesson from her post digging exercise. Trent McKenzie had muscles galore. Muscles that would get her into trouble if she wasn’t careful.

  After a couple of glasses of ice-cold mineral water, a woman called Gina took her through to the makeup studio. Gracie immediately felt at home among the creams and lotions stacked with an eye to sales around the room. She sat back, ready to enjoy a girly session guaranteed to banish a certain male from her mind.