His Montana Bride (The Montana Armstrongs Book 1)

by Jillian Hart

  There she was. It was too late. There was no way to hold back now. His heart was completely invested. When he looked at her, he didn't see dreams of what he hoped for, but of what should be.

  He could almost feel the future unrolling before him, with her here in his life and at his side, as his wife to protect and cherish.

  He might be cowboy-tough. He could spend sixteen hours hauling hay without a break, working in a bad storm until he was so frozen he couldn’t feel any part of him and keep on going. He could spend a day from dawn until night digging fence posts or tending a sick horse, but when it came to matters of the heart, he was out of his element. He was tender. Too vulnerable.

  Just like anybody.

  She smiled up at him from behind the kitchen sink. The fall of her hair, the tilt of her face touched by light and shadow, and the poised way she stood, so elegantly, washing potatoes made his breath stop.

  "Hey, cowboy." She turned off the sink, reached for a hand towel and waltzed toward him like the morning, quietly glowing and suffused with elegance. "There's a sight I like to see. A man in need of coffee."

  "I've got coffee needs." He could feel her smile light him up. "Got any of those muffins left?"

  "Right here." She sailed over, as bright as the morning and set the coffee pot on a trivet on the table. She looked country beautiful in denim shorts and a simple, well-worn T. With her hair tumbling around her face and shoulders, she looked wholesome sweet. "Come and sit. I'll get what you need."

  "You're going to spoil me. You sit here, and I'll do it."

  "Hmm, and you think I'm going to follow orders like that?" The amused hook of a delicate eyebrow, the interest shining blue in her eyes and the slight tilt of her head as she read the expression on his face lassoed him harder.

  "I thought I would give it a shot," he said, lost and in love.

  "While I appreciate the thought, I can't sit around doing nothing." A muffled chime rang from her pocket. She rolled her eyes. "I know that's my mother. She watches too many of those prime time news journal shows, you know where they trail the path of someone missing on vacation? Or who drove away and never came back?"

  "I like that your mother cares about you enough to keep track of you."

  "I do, too, although same days it's exhausting." She winked, pulled out her phone and studied the screen. Golden wisps framed her face as she nodded. "I knew it. Mom. She's stockpiled a few messages on my voice mail so now she's resorting to texts. Again, the charity ball. No, I won't make it," she typed, thumbs tapping away.

  "There are no charity balls here, at least none that I know of. Just horses."

  "Sounds like my kind of heaven." She slipped her cell into her pocket. "Now sit down and don't argue with me."

  "I knew the real you would come out if I just waited long enough."

  "What do you think of the real me?"

  "Scary. I might have to run off to the tundra."

  "What? And leave this beautiful paradise of yours?" She grabbed the coffee creamer bottle from the fridge.

  "It's an expression."

  "Why the tundra?"

  "It sounds funny and it's far away."

  "Too far to run to." She set a clean coffee cup onto the table next to the creamer. "Here, I'll pour for you."

  "This is a treat. Renee won't spoil me like this. Where did she go?"

  "To the grocery store. She left me in charge."

  "Of the kitchen?"

  "Of the coffee creamer. You are using too much. Give me that." She stole the bottle from him, laughing.

  She'd never felt more alive, or so, well, real. The moment deepened and grew serious without a word or action, it simply came into being, mellow and solemn and true.

  His gaze fastened on hers. She felt a lurch of affection in her chest, becoming something more. Rising up with wishes and dreams she had to hold back, because if she let herself envision them, then it would crush her beyond words to lose them, if they didn't come true.

  He reached across the table to lay his free hand on hers. His much larger, comforting touch, jolted through her with the power of hope.

  Please let him be the man she would love the rest of her life. She prayed as his hand left hers to brush the curve of her face.

  His callused fingertips grazed her cheek with the most tender of touches. Affection shone in his gaze, radiating outward from him with a strength that captured her heart and soul.

  Against her will, wishes began to rise and take shape, too powerful to hold back. A possible future stretched out before her in little glimpses she couldn't let herself see. The sparkle of a wedding ring on her left hand, the happy laughter of little children, a lifetime of breakfasts made in this kitchen.

  Don't look ahead, she told herself, trying to blot out the images, but they took on shape and color.

  The flash of a gold band on her hand, the diamond sparkling as he slipped a ring on her finger in church while their families watched. A little boy with brown hair running away from his toddling sister, her pigtails bouncing as she chased him, their laughter echoing in the kitchen and growing older as the years went by. With Cord always gazing at her with love in his eyes, just like this.

  "You are my answered prayer." The deep notes of his voice rumbled like song as he leaned in to kiss her cheek.

  Sweet. Love spiraled through her in quiet curls of hope and dreams. She watched him blush faintly, perhaps bashful at his show of affection. Endearing.

  She felt breathless as she watched him fold his big frame into a chair behind the table, careful of Kate coming to check out the possibility of getting something to eat.

  "Hey, good girl," he crooned to the dog, as he broke off a bite-sized piece of muffin. "How's your morning going? Are you getting enough rest? You're doing a real good job of holding the floor down for me."

  A happy tail wag was Kate's answer, standing hopefully at attention. That tail wagged harder when she was given a big hunk of muffin. She ate it daintily in her sunny corner of the nook.

  Outside, the morning sunshine gleamed from an endless blue sky. Green and amber fields stretched out as far as she could see. If she looked hard enough she could see her dreams coming true.

  Cord would be a lot to lose, she told God. Please don't let this end.

  Cord took a sip of coffee. "Want to go riding after this? I've got Lou covering me today. He's got horses to work for me, so you and I can have some fun."

  "Perfect." She took a sip of coffee, savoring the luxury of a slower, much different life. Her cell binged, a reminder of the full, happy life she already had.

  And the family she loved so much, she missed them with a tangible ache.

  * * *

  Cord checked the cinch on Tamra's saddle. Tight enough. He patted the mare's sun-warmed neck, doing his level best to stay in the moment. Not to let the importance of kissing Emily earlier, so sweet on her cheek, intrude on this moment.

  They stood outside the barn's wide doorway, the pair of horses saddled and ready. What he needed to do was to pretend there was just Emily and him, and no one else in the world. And not every hired man taking a long, amused look to see how this was going to turn out.

  Or Alex, who sent a text to Jenna with a picture of Emily setting out the food for the men's breakfast. Cord rolled his eyes, afraid to check his Facebook page. Who knew what his family members had posted there? He was a private man, not one prone to frequent posting, or posting at all.

  The mid-morning sun sprinkled over Emily like heaven's light as she knelt in a wildflower patch, her gentle fingertips admiring a coneflower's satin petals. As if she felt his scrutiny, she squinted up at him, as adorable as could be. "Are the horses ready to go?"

  "Ready and chomping at the bit."

  "That didn't take long. You aren't letting me help. I know what I'm doing, you know." She rose to her full height, her delicate eyebrows arched with the question and amusement. He suspected she might be more excited about riding than she'd let on.

  "Sure, I
don't doubt it. How does it feel to be able to ride again?"

  "Thrilling, wonderful, I love it. And yet, it is mean."

  "Mean?"

  Her eyes twinkled. "I'm hurting, here. I want my own horse. Bad. Worse than ever. And now it's your fault. I was numb, resigned to never being able to ride. You changed that."

  "I did wrong. I did bad."

  "I'm glad you see it." She waltzed over, sweet and happy. "I don't know how I'll get through my life now."

  "Neither do I." He lowered the stirrup and gave Tamra a pat on the neck. "Climb up. Enjoy it while you've got it."

  "Good advice."

  "Are you ready for a trail ride?"

  "More than anything."

  The restless Montana breeze ruffled the surrounding meadow grasses like wind on water, and the musical rustle seemed to serenade her as she moved toward him. She was posed and beautiful and laughing at herself.

  "Let's roll." She sashayed close, lovely and so sweet. Happiness glinted in her deep blue irises and she laid one hand on Tamra's neck. "Hey, beautiful mare. Did you know that I'm sweet on you?"

  Tamra nickered low in her throat, an amiable reassurance that she knew, and maybe felt the same way.

  Emily gave the mare a kiss on the nose. She tossed her hair over her shoulder, so vivid and real that he would never be able to look at this field and not remember this moment. He would never forget her standing in the swaying, seed-tipped grasses, surrounded by wildflowers, with the majesty of the Montana mountains in the background.

  He snapped a daisy from its root, not quite able to meet her gaze. She took the flower he offered her and looked up at him through her long lashes.

  It looked like love shining within her, radiating out like starlight on a dark night, a twinkling beacon full of promise. His chest twisted tighter. What if this relationship couldn't progress forward?

  "Thank you." She tucked the flower in her hair, behind her ear, looking like the country girl he prayed she could be. "It's generous of you to let me ride again. I could just be using you for the free horse rental. It costs a mint at the place where my cousin boards her horse."

  "That's all this is? Using me for a free horse ride or two?" He watched as Tamra stretched her neck, trying to catch the flower in Emily's hair with her lips, and couldn't quite reach. "I'm disappointed."

  "Well, the truth is out," she quipped. "I'm not ashamed to admit it. I'm here for the horse."

  "Not me?"

  "I think you know the answer to that."

  The big horse blew a raspberry in frustration, gave up on her quest for the flower and lipped Emily's shirt hem instead. Chocolate eyes gazed up at her with unrequited love.

  I know just how you feel, Cord thought, gave his horse a pat and held out his hand to the woman, who was stealing a little more of him every time she smiled.

  Her gentle fingers settled between his. One touch and he could feel the brush of her soul. He could see every one of his dreams.

  12

  To his surprise, while he just stood there adoring her, she tipped her head back, hair billowing in the wind, looking as wholesome and as natural as the landscape itself, as if she'd always belonged here.

  She grabbed the saddle horn with her free hand, foot in the stirrup, and up she went. "What are we doing here?"

  "I don't know, darlin'." Tenderness polished his words, burnishing them from the inside out. "I'd like to say we're getting to know each other better."

  Don't let it show too much, he told himself as he resisted the click of emotion and connection and handed her the reins.

  "Funny, it's as if I've known you from the start." Amusement wreathed her face, drawing adorable crinkles in the corners her eyes that said so much more.

  He was afraid his gaze would too, so he didn't look at her as he grabbed Bullet's reins and mounted up. "I didn't want to know you. You forced yourself on me. It was terrible. That's what I told Renee."

  "No wonder she avoids me."

  "You fit in great last night when my family came for supper." Every cell in his entire being wished for her, wanting a future with her.

  He guided the gelding away from the fence. "Where do you want to ride this time?"

  "You decide." Her gentle gaze latched onto his, he'd forgotten to stay out of range of those compelling eyes that drew him in fully. "Maybe we can go fast."

  "Fast? Don't say that around Bullet. He'll take you seriously."

  "Is that so? Well, Bullet, what do you think? Can you show me how fast you are?"

  Bullet swiveled an ear, considering this new dangerous plan. He blew out a breath, as if giving a huff. His neck arched.

  "I thought that if I got to pick, then I get to be in charge." Cord winked. "Now you're trying to take over and say how fast my horse goes."

  "Uh oh, you're going to tease me now."

  "Have you always been this controlling?"

  "Always. It's a terrible weakness of mine. And I yell all the time, too."

  "You're like the quietest person I know."

  "True."

  "Good to know you aren't controlling or a loud yeller."

  "Mostly I'll leave that to you."

  "Then we're in trouble. We'll have to get Alex if we ever need to yell at anyone."

  "Maybe Bullet can help. He's deciding where we go. Are you steering him?" She laughed at her own joke.

  "No, there's no steering wheel on him."

  "That joke fell flat."

  "I know. No emergency brake either. The reverse doesn't always work. This is a shoddy horse."

  "Ugh. Was that a pun?"

  "A poor attempt at one."

  "No kidding!"

  She laughed when Bullet lunged into a cantor, the big horse surging ahead. Not to be outdone, she leaned forward, urging Tamra into a fast gallop. She surged ahead, taking the lead. Cord could only watch, his heart full to the brim, and listen to the bell of Emily's laughter.

  It was a sweet sound that wrapped around him like a dream.

  * * *

  "Hey, Beautiful. Are you getting a little parched from the heat?" Cord slowed the big red horse in the dappled shade of the forest, sitting in his saddle with the manly ease of a cowboy in a western.

  Her breath caught. The dappled shade from tall pines sprinkled over him, as if to adore the stunning cut of his granite face, the breadth of his steely shoulders and the rippling muscles as he set his Stetson on her head. So close she could see the black flecks in his irises.

  His smile wasn't as warm as it should have been. They'd been riding in silence, or racing along the path by the river bank for the past hour and back again. All that distance they'd traveled, but it felt like a different kind of distance settled between them.

  She couldn't say why. Maybe it was just an impression, or that he was tired. She knew he got up early, around four, to start feeding the livestock and overseeing cleaning stalls.

  Suddenly, there it was, a touch of reserve, a shadow in his smile, the affection veiled in his eyes as he swept off his hat and placed it on her head.

  "That should help."

  "Thanks. I forgot my baseball cap in the hotel room."

  "It does no good for you there."

  "Too true."

  His gaze avoided hers. She knuckled back the Stetson's brim to get a better look at him. Tall and invincible, as if he were made of granite and might, honor and goodness.

  All she could see was him. The beauty of the hillside and surrounding forest faded next to his riveting presence. Shadows had crept in to darken the dark shade of his irises. He dimmed like a cloud in front of the sun.

  She wanted to lay her hand to his chest and pull him closer, afraid that he would step away. The hat slipped a little sideways. "It's too big."

  "It's because of my noggin," Cord joked, his tone gravelly, falling a tad short of light. A subtle tension made a muscle jump along his jaw line. "Alex says it's because my skull is too big. It is full of hot air. Not brains, just hot air."

  "Hey, th
at was my first opinion of you." Maybe a little merriment would ease his tension away.

  "That's what all the ladies say." His shadows faded and he gave a wide smile. It felt as if the bit of distance he'd put between them faded.

  Just one of those things, she thought. The horses walked a bit faster, spying the stables. The stables meant water and food.

  "Hey, Cord. Hi there, Emily." Jon, one of the wranglers, stepped out of the shade of the stable and into the bright sun. "Did you two have a good ride?"

  "Spectacular." She swung down with a creak of the saddle and dropped lightly to the ground. "Tamra did a fantastic job. Thanks, beautiful girl."

  The beautiful girl in question simply nickered low in her throat, a contented and happy sound, as if the ride had been good for her, too.

  "I'll take them." Jon took charge of the mare's reins and reached for Bullet's.

  Cord swung down with an athletic and manly strength, brawny muscles rippling.

  Her heart fluttered. She hadn't been able to stop the dream rising up from her soul. He kept his back to her, head down a bit, and then she knew what was wrong.

  For a moment in time, she'd been a Montana girl, too. His Montana girl. Helping on the ranch, taking meals out to the cowboys and wranglers, riding horseback through the meadows, being content here with the man who made her heart forget to beat and who touched her dreams.

  Her cell binged, as if a reminder of all that stood between them. Of what would always keep them apart. She checked the screen. It was her mom.

  Hey, what are you up to? I saw a new photo of you on Facebook. Who are those people?

  She rolled her eyes, tucked the phone back into her pocket and looked up just in time to see Cord pick her another wildflower.

  He pressed the stem into her hand, his fingers gentle, his gaze tender but guarded. No longer open to her. "It's been a lifetime since I've picked a flower for a girl."

  She tucked the daisy into the front pocket of her scoop necked t-shirt. "The meaning is not lost on me."

  His hand large hand closed around hers. He cut such a fine figure of a powerful man, invincible.

  He'd won her heart completely.