The Man from Montana

by Julianna Morris

  “I’ll still be a guide sometimes,” Tessa said breathlessly when the kiss ended. “But I also want a fruit and vegetable garden, along with my own career.”

  “No problem. You can have as much space as you need and I’ll have a contractor build a giant greenhouse. You’ll have to decide which features you need, but do you think we can have one that doesn’t look too out of place with the barns?”

  * * *

  IF IT HAD been possible, Tessa would have loved Clay even more for his suggestion. A greenhouse where she could grow plants and vegetables to her heart’s content was just what she’d need on a cold, snowy Montana day.

  “I’ll do my best,” she promised.

  “Then there’s just one more thing.”

  Tessa raised her eyebrows as Clay sat up and reached into his pocket. He took out a jewelry box. Her breath caught when he opened it. Inside was a lovely sapphire engagement ring.

  “Tessa Alderman, will you marry me?”

  “Yes.”

  They kissed again and she didn’t think it was possible to be happier.

  EPILOGUE

  One year later

  THE RANCH’S SECOND Independence Day party was in full swing, with revelers spilling out into the picnic and games area. Children who weren’t interested in square dancing were having fun with the cornhole toss and other games.

  Cars filled the parking lot and lined the road. A hayride shuttle helped transport guests who hadn’t come early enough to get a convenient spot, or just wanted a ride in the sunset.

  Tessa was cuddled with her husband on the office porch swing, close enough to hear the music and laughter, and far enough away to have privacy for kisses and whispered conversation. They’d enjoyed sharing the responsibility as party hosts, but had wanted a few minutes to themselves.

  Clay’s strong hand covered the small baby bump on her abdomen. While it was early to expect any movement, he was determined to share the first flutters with her, if possible.

  Though he still enjoyed taking groups out, particularly if she came along, he was staying home more and kept his weekly hours to a reasonable number. They’d visited Tucson several times during the off-season and he had become fascinated with desert ecology. And more cautious. His first scorpion sting had taught him a healthy respect for the arachnid.

  The sound of water spilling over rocks by the porch lulled them both. The small stream at the base of the waterfall was surrounded by ferns and other growth. Tiny lights hovered, blinking on and off in a random cycle, looking like fireflies. They’d been created by a local artist, at Tessa’s request. It was a popular feature and several businesses in town, along with private homeowners, wanted versions for themselves. Tessa had a long waiting list for her landscaping designs, both in Elk Point and back in Tucson.

  She was going to continue working after the baby came and Aunt Emma had eagerly declared her availability for babysitting. She was going to be busy with Jillian expecting, as well.

  “Tessa? Clay? I wondered where you’d gone,” called Laura Carson from the path that led to the office porch.

  “We’re just getting some well-deserved rest,” Clay said lazily.

  Laura nodded. “Good. But folks are asking for you both.”

  Tessa kissed her husband’s jaw and sat up. “Not to worry, there are still people I haven’t had a chance to meet yet.” She tugged Clay to his feet. “Come on, we have host and hostess responsibilities we’re ignoring.”

  He walked ahead of them and Laura linked arms with Tessa. They’d become close over the past year. Russell was a great guy, too.

  Her parents were on okay terms with the elder Carsons, but real friendship would take time. While Melanie and Chuck hadn’t started a business in Elk Point, they’d bought a small house near the Carson Double C where they could spend part of the summer and stay on other visits. Clay’s mother and father had thought it was a little odd, since they always stayed with their sons and daughters-in-law when visiting.

  Tessa had understood and explained that her parents were still coping with Renee’s death and needed privacy, even when they were visiting family. Her reasoning seemed to have sorted out the matter.

  Inside the patriotically decorated barn, Tessa saw her parents sitting with Andrew and Jillian. They hadn’t been sure Jillian would make it to the party without going into labor, but she seemed to be doing all right. Little Derry was sitting on Chuck’s knee. Tessa looked forward to introducing her own son or daughter to the sweet boy.

  Tessa’s father-in-law kissed her forehead. “How are you doing, hon? Not getting too tired, I hope.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Maybe you should sit down,” he urged, looking anxious.

  “Laura warned me that you’re a little overprotective.”

  He sighed and nodded. “Guilty as charged.”

  * * *

  CLAY PUT HIS hands on Tessa’s shoulders, drawing her against him as his parents joined a square dance. He felt like the luckiest man who’d ever lived.

  With Tessa, he was whole. He couldn’t even contemplate life without her. She had become his entire reason for waking up in the morning.

  He still loved exploring the Montana wilderness, but he needed her more. And now he was going to be a father, something he’d never expected to happen.

  “Is something wrong?” he asked, sensing a stillness in his wife. He turned her around and saw joy in her blue eyes.

  “I may have felt the baby move.”

  Clay swiftly put his hand on her abdomen. Everything else seemed to fall away while he focused. Softly, like the first flake of snow falling in winter, he felt a movement.

  Their child.

  He looked into his wife’s excited face, awe filling him. Tessa had filled spaces in his heart that he’d never known were empty, and now his heart just kept getting bigger.

  “I love you,” he breathed and kissed her.

  * * *

  For more great romances from Julianna Morris and Harlequin Heartwarming, visit www.Harlequin.com today and check out:

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  Caught by the Cowboy Dad

  by Melinda Curtis

  PROLOGUE

  DEVIN MONROE’S SUMMER was ruined.

  All his friends from high school were heading off to college for the summer session that started in a week to get a jump on their class ranking. And what was Devin doing? A ten-day, guys-only RV trip with his dad.

  Worst. Summer. Ever.

  And Dad...

  Geez, two years from turning forty and the man’s life was falling apart. Not that all of it was Dad’s fault.

  In January, Great-grandpa Harlan had disinherited Dad on the same day that Grandpa Darrell had fired him. Was it any wonder Dad was going gray? And then two days ago in front of half the Monroe family, some doctor had walked up to Dad and announced she was having his baby!

  Devin cringed remembering the spectacle.

  Was it any wonder his dad had gone to the hospital the next day with all the symptoms of a heart attack?

  Turns out it was only stress and dehydration. Still...this just wasn’t Dad’s year.

  But Devin still wanted it to be his year. And getting a jump on his college ranking by attending the second summer session was the way to do it.

  If Devin could get Dad to cancel the RV trip and spend some time with Dr. Baby Mama...

  Devin stomped into their hotel room in Second Chanc
e, Idaho.

  Dad’s phone sat on the nightstand in the Lodgepole Inn. Dad was nowhere in sight.

  It would be wrong to search his contacts for Dr. Bernadette Carlisle.

  It would be wrong to send her a text message using his dad’s phone and to apologize for the unhelpful way Dad had reacted to the baby news, as if Devin was Dad.

  And it would really be wrong to invite Dr. Carlisle along on the RV trip to Yellowstone.

  Devin did it anyway.

  CHAPTER ONE

  “I’M GOING TO be a father again.” It was the first time Holden Monroe had said the words out loud.

  Speaking them made it feel as if an elephant had taken a seat on his chest.

  Yes, his ex-girlfriend was pregnant. Yes, he’d love this child as much as the first. But that wasn’t the main reason for the elephant’s sit-in. Holden was recently unemployed, might be going broke and had suffered a health scare.

  He lay on a mattress with springs that sagged and studied the cracks in the ceiling of the Lodgepole Inn. His life had come apart, start to finish, in a little town he’d never heard of a year ago called Second Chance, Idaho.

  “You don’t have to sound like it’s the end of the world, Dad.” Devin sat on the other bed in the hotel room perusing a pre-med textbook. He was seventeen, very smart and had graduated from high school a year early.

  The family wedding they’d come to attend in Second Chance hadn’t happened because Laurel, the bride, went into labor on the day and had given birth to twin girls. The ceremony had been rescheduled to next weekend. There was nothing keeping them here. Adventure awaited in the form of a father–son RV trip. But Holden couldn’t seem to move from the bed.

  A second child. He should be coming to terms with the idea and rejoicing. Instead, he couldn’t seem to focus.

  The first drops from a summer rainstorm pinged on the window. The log walls creaked from the incoming storm’s gathering wind. A fitting soundtrack to the ruination of his life. What was next? A full eclipse and Armageddon?

  I’m going to be a father again.

  “Dad? Dad, did you hear me? I said it’s not the end of the world.”

  “Yes, but I’m doing the math.”

  “What math?” Devin turned a page.

  “I’m thirty-eight. You’re seventeen. And when Bernadette’s baby is seventeen, I’ll be fifty-five.” An age when he should have been counting down to retirement with all his investments in order after running the Monroe Holding Corporation for at least a decade.

  But he’d never advanced to the CEO position in his family’s company. In fact, the Monroe Holding Corporation no longer employed Holden, period. He barely had enough in savings to pay for Devin’s medical degree, much less finance his own company. Because that’s what fired, middle-aged men from Manhattan usually did. They branched out on their own. But to do what? He had no answer. And why would he? He hadn’t envisioned starting over this late in life.

  Holden’s shoulders crept up toward his ears. For a man who’d grown up with a silver spoon and lived the last ten years on the Upper East Side of Manhattan, this was the end of the world.

  “So what if you’re the father of two who’ll be ancient in seventeen years.” Devin flipped a page. The text was so small Holden couldn’t even begin to read the headings. “Could be worse. Dr. Carlisle could be having—”

  “Twins,” they said in unison. Twins ran deep in the Monroe DNA.

  “Maybe I could use a double blessing,” Holden said thickly, trying to find a silver lining.

  When you hit rock bottom, that’s when your true character rises.

  That was his grandpa Harlan Monroe talking. He’d always been good with the pep talks, like one of those spin-class instructors who spent half the time talking about being the best you can be, instead of yelling at you to pedal as if your life depended on it.

  The rest of my life hinges upon how fast I pedal now.

  He’d always been able to envision his ideal future and chart a course to get there. That course involved being a team player in the Monroe family, devoting long hours to brokering deals and wisely investing for the company and individual Monroes. But all the while, he hadn’t done the same for himself. He’d lived the New York City high life, gambling his future on becoming the family CEO. And he’d lost.

  “Dad, did you hear me?” Devin closed that thick book of his. “Are you ready to leave? Or can we officially cancel this father–son road trip?”

  “Cancel?” Holden sat up, swinging his long legs over the edge of the bed. He might not know what the rest of the year held, but he knew what he was doing for the next week. “We’re not canceling. Grab your bags.” They were already packed and had just been waiting for Holden to say the word. “Let’s go. You’re headed to MIT in the fall. I know how college students are. You’ll forget your old man a week in.”

  “Dad. Legally, you have me two weeks between now and the end of the year.” Devin turned eighteen in January. He’d inherited Holden’s wry humor, along with his black curly hair and gray eyes. “Let’s reschedule. We could do a road trip between terms. Meanwhile, you could...you know...get some rest, like the doctor ordered.”

  His doctor... His ex...

  “None of that talk. We’re going to make Yellowstone by dinnertime.” They had a ten-day schedule to keep, after all. And besides, Holden didn’t want to discuss his health. “I received the all clear from Bernadette.” After what had felt like a heart attack two days ago. “She said it was nothing.” And hadn’t that been embarrassing? For a few hours, he’d felt like he was dying but, medically, there was nothing wrong with him. To add to his mortification, it had been his ex, Bernadette, the woman pregnant with his child, who’d delivered the ego-crushing diagnosis. And she’d looked good while doing it, while he... “I’m fine.”

  “You have to deal with your anxiety,” Dev said, stuffing his pre-med book in his backpack.

  I do not have anxiety.

  “I can handle stress.” Holden got to his feet, drew a deep breath and forced his shoulders away from his ears.

  “All evidence to the contrary,” Devin murmured with attitude.

  Holden had forgotten what it was like to be a teenager, so full of snark that sometimes you couldn’t censor your inner voice. “You know, I can hear perfectly well.”

  Before Devin could answer, someone knocked on their hotel-room door.

  It was Holden’s cousin Shane, looking healthy and relaxed. “Thought I’d swing by while I was in town and see you off.” So chipper. So cheerful. He’d probably never stressed his way to a false-alarm heart attack.

  A second elephant joined the first on Holden’s chest, creating a cramped, burning sensation around his heart—the infamous anxiety Bernadette had warned him about, the same condition that had sent a very real-feeling electrical jolt down his left arm a few days ago.

  Deep breath in. Think happy thoughts. Avoid dwelling on the impulse to slug your cousin.

  A primitive growl worked past his flailing happy thoughts.

  For years, Holden and Shane had been jockeying for the position of heir to the Monroe conglomerate of companies. There could be only one CEO of the Monroe Holding Corporation.

  And then Grandpa Harlan had died and left their fathers everything, but only on the condition that they disown Harlan’s grandchildren, a move apparently designed to inspire the twelve of them to strike out on their own. There would be no CEO position for either Shane or Holden. All the third generation Monroes had been fired as a result. Instead of wealth, they’d been given a small town in the Idaho mountains. Second Chance was worthless in Holden’s eyes, except for a cache of stagecoach gold Shane had found and the value of the land for developers of luxury homes and ranchettes. Shane, bleeding heart that he was, saw Second Chance’s future more optimistically than Holden.

  “Dad? Did you hear m
e?” Devin sounded both worried and exasperated. He turned to Shane. “His responses have been on delay all morning.”

  “Yes. I’m a little foggy.” Holden rose to his own defense. “Let’s blame it on my doctor recommending I lay off caffeine.”

  “Brain fog is worrisome.” Shane studied Holden’s face as if he were studying the daily stock-market report. He gave his head a little shake as he ran a hand through his short, dark hair. “Dev, why don’t you take your suitcases down to the motor home?”

  “On it.” Devin was entirely too eager to escape the room.

  After his son left, Holden crossed his arms, leaned his back against the far log wall and scowled at Shane. “I’m fine.” Other than the anxiety-bearing elephants hindering his breathing. “Why doesn’t anyone believe me?”

  “Why?” Shane shoved his hands into his pants pockets. “Maybe because your expression today is as buttoned-up as your personality sometimes is.”

  A primal sound escaped Holden’s throat. Shane could be so annoying. “If you equate being buttoned-up with having everything under control, then I agree with you.”

  Holden was the ice man. Everyone on Wall Street said so.

  “Everything under control...” Shane crossed his arms over his chest. “That’s great. So, tell me, oh mighty negotiator and financier... What are you going to do about Bernadette and the baby?”

  Uh...

  “What are your career plans?” Shane prompted in an easygoing voice. “You’ve got it all under control. Spill.”

  Uh...

  “And while we’re on the topic of control,” Shane continued, “if you could sell Second Chance, where would you start?”

  Uh...

  It wasn’t Holden’s expression that was the problem. It was his brain. Thoughts flew about his head in bits and snatches. Holden was certain he knew what he wanted to do about the baby, his career and the future of Second Chance. He was certain, and yet, he couldn’t sort through the jumble of thoughts in his head to take a stand on any of those topics.