Montana Hearts: Her Weekend Wrangler

by Darlene Panzera

“We’ll take the trail up higher,” Ryan assured her. “Not as many ­people go all the way to the top.”

  He was right. Both the crowd and the trail thinned once they left the main branch that ran along the bottom of the giant letter. Ryan handed her a water bottle and they sat on a large split log bench. “There’s nothing like this view of the town, the rolling hills, the distant peaks. I know you think I’m crazy for wanting to stay in Fox Creek, but I’ve traveled to other places over the last few years. I even spent three months living in Chicago before Cody was born, and there’s no place like home.”

  “You’re not crazy.” Bree smiled. “You have a tight-­knit family who loves you. I think that makes a big difference.”

  “Your family loves you. They just have a different way of expressing it,” Ryan assured her. Then he pointed toward something in the distance. “Do you see that shiny green metal roof?”

  She found the one he referred to. “What is it?”

  “A covered arena on twenty acres of land with a small house, a stable, and two barns. I think I might buy it and turn it into a training facility.”

  Bree stared at him and the dreams from her younger days returned to haunt her. “I used to want to open a training facility.”

  “You still can,” he said, cupping the side of her face. “We could train horses together.”

  Not if she went back to New York.

  Bree thought about the two very different futures that had been presented to her and weighed the benefits of each as she watched the sun go down.

  A strip of yellow lay miles away on the horizon and above it a layer of orange fading into shades of pink. Above them, the vast sky was still true blue with an abundance of fluffy white clouds that looked soft as silk. And beside her, Ryan, looking as handsome as ever, laid out their picnic dinner: ham and cheese sandwiches on homemade rye, with a side of red grapes, whole wheat crackers, and a bottle of champagne.

  “You were right,” she conceded. “Coming up here was a good choice.”

  “Good?” he teased, pulling on the champagne bottle and popping the cork. “I want this to be perfect.”

  “What are we celebrating?” she asked, taking the long-­stemmed glass he offered.

  He gazed into her eyes, then clinked his glass against hers. “The fact we’re here.”

  Sometimes life got so crazy Bree forgot what it was like to let go of all her worries and enjoy the moment. Leaning forward, she kissed him on the lips. “This is perfect.”

  He kissed her back. Then after they ate and finished off the champagne, he pulled her close. “How do you feel about kids, Bree. Do you ever plan to have any of your own?”

  The question caught her off guard. “Of course. Maybe. Someday.”

  “And a place of your own?”

  Bree remembered what the “banana peel” CEO had said about her date with him, and frowned. “Are you trying to figure out if I live up to your Ideal Woman List?”

  He laughed. “My what?”

  Bree pulled back and her heart slammed into her chest. “Your Ideal Woman List. Sammy Jo said you had one. A list that describes the perfect woman for you?”

  She’d never seen Ryan look so amused. “If I have a list,” he told her, “I’m not aware of it.”

  “Confident, caring, playful, talented, sexy, beautiful, brown-­eyed, brunette, loves horses, loves children?” she rattled off.

  Ryan laughed even harder. “You just described yourself.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked, narrowing her gaze. “I’m not—­” Bree hesitated. “Do you think—­” She shook her head. “But you can’t possibly believe that I—­”

  “You are all those things,” Ryan assured her. “One time when Sammy Jo jokingly asked what I wanted, I thought of you. I never realized it until about a month ago when you returned, but all I’ve ever wanted was you.”

  He took her face in his hands and drew her back toward him. Then he kissed her, his mouth tasting like sweet champagne and stirring her emotions into something just as bubbly. She thought of the training facility he’d mentioned, she thought of Cody, and she thought of having someone want her as much as Ryan promised with this kiss. A kiss that almost made her believe she could stay on top of the world forever. A kiss that made her believe that maybe . . . just maybe . . . all things were possible.

  “What about love?” she whispered.

  Ryan lifted his head and tightened his arms around her. Then looking her straight in the eye, he said, “I love you.”

  A snort from a few feet away startled her, making her jump. “Don’t believe him, Bree,” Mrs. Owens warned. “He says that to all the girls.”

  Bree glanced back at Ryan. He appeared as startled as she was.

  “What are you doing here?” he demanded.

  Mrs. Owens looked up into the sky. “I hike up here every Saturday evening to be closer to Gail. Except two months ago, I missed a week when I went to Wyoming.”

  Bree stared at her. “Wyoming? Did Susan Randall happen to call you while you were there?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe.” Mrs. Owens glanced back at her and scowled. “We were neighbors for the last eight months.”

  “Have you heard from her since she and her husband left?”

  Mrs. Owens’s expression turned dark. “Don’t you think I’d tell you if I had?”

  Bree stared at the woman, her mind racing. “I don’t know.”

  Ryan stood up, clearly frustrated by the interruption, and gave Mrs. Owens a nod. “Thank you for stopping by, Olivia, but don’t you have somewhere else you need to be?”

  “Yes, I do,” Mrs. Owens replied as she continued to glower at the two of them. “Gail and I will have lots to talk about tonight.”

  SUNDAY DAWNED SOONER than Ryan would have liked. But he scrambled out of bed and by nine a.m. he and his brothers had already fed the cows, checked on a few of the young calves, and moved part of the herd to a different field after a few broke through the fence. Then after church the chores continued, much to the excitement of the three Iridescent Beauty execs from Bree’s ranch; they insisted on staying at their place today instead of spending time with her.

  Ryan wished he could spend more time with her, but he’d already been shifting more work than he should have onto his brothers’ shoulders and he needed to put in a full day himself for once. Rubbing some of Bree’s grandmother’s lavender soap over his arms, he went into the mare’s stall to bring her and the filly out into the cross-­ties. The mare appeared to trust him now, probably due to the groundwork they’d been doing in the round pen rather than the lavender, but he wasn’t taking any chances. And he still preferred to have them stand in the aisle while he mucked out their stall so he wouldn’t have to worry about being bit or kicked.

  He’d had enough trouble the night before when Mrs. Owens came up the hillside to interrupt his date. After she left, he and Bree had talked and kissed some more, but the intimacy they’d established earlier had fallen away.

  Next time he took Bree out, he’d take her to a place where there was no chance they could be disturbed—­a place with a lock and key.

  He heard a mingle of laughter and voices behind him, and when he turned he saw Cody and their three female guests heading his way.

  “Hi, Ryan,” Rebecca said, smiling. In fact, the woman hadn’t stopped smiling since her date with Josh. He’d asked his brother what that was about, but Josh had only shrugged and given him a big goofy grin. Rebecca continued, “Cody said he’d show us the filly.”

  “Oh, there she is,” Chelsea crooned. “Isn’t she cute?”

  “Her name’s Morning Glory,” Cody said proudly.

  “Adorable name, too,” Katelyn added.

  “I’ll tell you what’s adorable,” Mr. Owens shouted, stomping down the aisle behind them. He glared at Ryan. “The fact you had the women stay with
you instead of me. Your ranch isn’t even set up to accommodate guests.”

  “We’re doing just fine,” Chelsea assured him.

  “I bet you are,” Merle growled. “But if I don’t get that corporate contract, my wife is going to divorce me! And if she does, I’m going to blame you, Tanner!”

  Cody and the CEOs moved aside, fear and astonishment on each of their faces. Ryan left the mare and stepped forward, surprised as much as the rest of them by the man’s sudden appearance. “What do you want from me, Merle?”

  “Why?” he spat. “Are you going to make me one of your little deals? It’s too late for that.”

  Balling his fist, Mr. Owens swung his arm back and then hit Ryan square across the jaw, knocking him backward into a loose pile of hay.

  Ryan heard Cody’s voice scream, “Dad!”

  He also heard the three CEOs’ concerned, high-­pitched shrieks as they ran over to him.

  “Ryan, are you okay?” Chelsea asked, hovering over his face. The blow had stung and the skin along the side of his chin was raw, but yes, he was okay.

  “Look this way, girls.”

  The CEOs turned their heads and looked. So did Ryan. And Mr. Owens snapped a picture using the camera on his cell phone.

  “What an adorable photo,” Merle said, and chuckled. “I bet your financial backers will think so, too, don’t you, girls? When we were at the dance, didn’t one of you mention you’d received money from a conservative corporation who only supports those with high moral standards?”

  The CEOs’ mouths dropped open.

  “All you have to do is give me the corporate contract,” Merle continued, “and I’ll hit delete.”

  Unbelievable. He was trying to blackmail them!

  “We . . . we can’t,” Katelyn said, shaking her head.

  “Oh, come on now,” he insisted. “My guest ranch is as good as Bree’s.”

  Ryan jumped to his feet. “They said no.”

  “I won’t take no for an answer,” Merle barked, his expression twisting into a furious knot. He lunged forward, but Ryan was ready for him.

  So was the mare.

  After Ryan landed a punch that sent the man flying toward the cross-­ties, the mare snapped her head around and bit him. Apparently she’d thought the guy landed one step too close to her filly. And of course, Merle wasn’t wearing any lavender.

  “Ow!” Merle yelled, grabbing his injured shoulder with one hand and pointing to his chin with his other. “You want a real fight? C’mon, lay another one on me. Right here.”

  Ryan shook his head in disgust. “Owens,” he said, “your boxing days are over.”

  “That’s right,” Bo Tanner’s deep voice thundered.

  Ryan glanced behind him and grinned. Not only his dad but all three of his brothers stood in a straight line across the end of the aisle, ready to assist Merle out the door.

  Chapter Thirteen

  BREE SLAMMED DOWN the phone and went into the kitchen where she could hear her entire family arguing. “What’s going on?” she demanded, searching the faces of her parents, grandma, siblings, and wee little niece. “We’ve had ten phone calls this morning from different families canceling their reservations. Ten! Has something happened that I don’t know about?”

  “Yesterday was Father’s Day,” her dad grumbled.

  “And you spent most of it at the hospital getting new X-­rays of your leg,” Bree reminded him. “We agreed we were going to celebrate today.”

  “You call this a celebration?” her father demanded.

  Ma picked up the local newspaper from the counter and held it up. “Have you seen this?”

  Grandma tried to grab the paper away. “No. Don’t show her!”

  Too late. Bree recognized Ryan at once. In a large photo on the front page. Lying in the hay. Surrounded by the three women from Iridescent Beauty, their hands on his arms and chest.

  She stepped forward and took the paper from her mother’s hands. The bold headline read, Horsin’ Around with Fillies. Bree glanced back at the photo. Yes, Morning Glory stood behind them, but wasn’t the main focus.

  “The article is horrible,” Ma said, her voice grave. “It says Ryan enjoys wrangling our female guests more than cows and horses.”

  Luke nodded. “And someone hacked in and posted the article on the Collins Country Cabins website.”

  “He’s ruined our reputation,” Delaney cried, her eyes glistening.

  “That would explain . . . why one family who canceled . . . said our ranch is no longer respectable,” Bree choked out, her gaze unable to leave the paper.

  Only two days before, Ryan had said, “I love you.” Now here he was, caught rolling around in the hay with the CEOs!

  “You should have never hired Ryan Tanner to be our weekend wrangler,” her father grumbled. “Look at that photo—­the women are fawning all over him.”

  “You think this is my fault?” Bree moved closer to Luke’s side. “Dad, you were the one who was fawning all over Ryan when I hired him. None of us knew this would happen.”

  “Didn’t you?” Ma challenged. “Ryan’s always been a flirt. What did you expect?”

  “He’s not a flirt,” Grandma argued. “He’s just friendly.”

  “A little too friendly,” Bree’s father muttered.

  Bree’s stomach took a turn for the worse, and leaving the paper behind, she ran from the room, fearing she might be sick. She wanted to believe Ryan was innocent, that he had some kind of plausible explanation for why he’d be lying in the hay with those women. But her mind kept flashing memories from the past over and over and over again.

  And in every single one of them Ryan was surrounded by other women.

  RYAN LEANED HIS arms over the top rail of the wooden fence and watched Morning Glory drift farther away from her mother. Thanks to the training for the halter show, the filly no longer clung to the mare like she had when she arrived. However, he still believed she’d need a few more months before she was ready to be fully weaned, and even then he’d make sure the separation process was gradual, increasing their time apart more and more.

  Some horse owners thought it best to use the abrupt method of just taking one of them away. But Ryan found this not only traumatic for the horses but for he and his family as well. The duo’s frantic cries as they called out to each other often prevented anyone in his household from getting any sleep.

  Ryan checked his cell phone again. He’d left Bree five cell phone messages throughout the day, but she hadn’t returned his calls. Could be she’d taken some of the guests on a trail ride through the dead cell zone. He’d drive over to her guest ranch right after dinner. Then hopefully they could pick up where they’d left off before Mrs. Owens interrupted their date.

  “Dad, you’ve got to see this,” Cody exclaimed, waving a newspaper at him from the doorway of the house as he approached. “You’re in the paper!”

  “I am?” He frowned, wondering if it was a follow-­up article on the filly’s win at the halter show.

  “It has your name,” Cody continued. “And Morning Glory’s in the picture, too.”

  Yep, had to be about the halter show.

  Eager to see what they’d printed, he took the newspaper from Cody’s hands . . . and his gut just about fell through the floor.

  “I’ll be back later,” Ryan said, pulling the keys to his truck from his pocket.

  Cody frowned. “What about dinner?”

  He shook his head. “I’m not hungry.”

  Ryan cut the time it usually took to get to the Collins guest ranch in half. Dirt flew out behind him and the brakes squealed as he rounded corners, but he didn’t care. The only thing on his mind was Bree . . . and her reaction to that awkward, ill-­timed, manipulated photo.

  Had she seen it? Of course she’d seen it. That’s why she hadn’t returned an
y of his calls. Which also meant . . . she was definitely upset.

  He clenched the steering wheel, his anger toward Owens flaring up all over again. Yesterday, before Merle left the stable, the man had said if he couldn’t get the corporate contracts he’d make sure no one would. Apparently he hadn’t wasted any time.

  Braking hard in front of Bree’s house, Ryan switched off the engine, jumped out of the truck, and pounded on her door.

  Jed Collins answered. “I only have two words for you, Tanner,” he said, his tone gruff. “You’re fired.”

  “Technically, that’s three words,” Ryan told him, his gaze searching the interior of the house behind the big man. “Now I have three words for you—­where is Bree?”

  “She doesn’t want to see you.”

  “Yes, she does,” Bree said, her voice firm.

  Ryan breathed a sigh of relief as her father stepped aside and Bree came outside to join him. Then he saw the expression on her face.

  The one of false calm she wore when masking her true emotions.

  “The photo was rigged,” Ryan said, his throat suddenly hoarse. “Owens threw a punch I didn’t expect and afterward Chelsea, Katelyn, and Rebecca ran toward me to see if I was all right.”

  “Their hands were all over you,” Bree accused.

  “They wanted to help me get back up.” He took another step toward her. “Look, Owens tried to bribe the women into giving him the contract for their corporate retreat. When they refused, he got mad and sent the picture to the newspaper.”

  “And posted it on our website,” Bree added.

  “He did?” Ryan met her steely-­eyed gaze and his gut wrenched as he realized the damage that must have done. “Merle said his wife threatened to divorce him if he didn’t get the contracts. The anniversary of Gail’s death always makes Olivia upset and I think the fact their ranch isn’t getting the same amount of bookings as you has put her over the edge. The doctors have her on some special meds to help calm her down, but either she hasn’t taken them . . . or it isn’t helping.” When Bree’s facial features didn’t change, he added, “When Merle hit me, he scared Cody.”