A Match Made In Montana (The Brands of Montana #4)

by Joanna Sims

  In actuality, he didn’t intend to separate from her. This was her ranch, and she knew the territory better than he did, but he had a protective nature. He wouldn’t feel right not seeing her safely back to the house.

  “It’s not too far now,” Josephine said as they started up a new hill. Her thigh muscles were burning from the hike and she couldn’t believe how much protesting her body was doing. When she had been a little girl, she could run up and down these hills without any trouble at all. Now, it was taking all of her strength, physical and mental, to hike to the chapel without taking a ton of minibreaks. If Logan hadn’t been with her, she would have taken several breaks already. But since he was pressing on, she was pressing on.

  At the bottom of another steep hill, the final hill that would lead them to the plateau where her great-grandfather had built his chapel, Josephine paused. Her face felt hot and wet with perspiration. She used the sleeve of her sweatshirt to wipe the sweat from her face and then prepared to tackle the last leg of this impromptu hike.

  “Doing okay?” Logan stood beside her patiently.

  She nodded. “The altitude is getting to me.”

  “You’ve been setting a really tough pace for this hike,” he said. “Why don’t we slow it down a bit?”

  Hands on her hips, bending forward slightly, trying to catch her breath again, Josephine looked at him, surprised. “I’ve been setting the pace?”

  He nodded his head “yes.”

  Josephine laughed a breathy laugh, and then coughed. “And here I’ve been blaming it on you!”

  Logan laughed with her. “No. I’ve had to work to keep up.”

  “You’re kidding?” Josephine laughed again with a shake of her head. “Do you mean that I feel a little like I’m going to pass out and I’ve done it to myself?”

  Logan’s smiled faded as he took a step toward her. “You feel light-headed?”

  “A little. It’s no big deal. Asthma.”

  “Here...” He pointed to a flat boulder on the side of the road. “I think you should sit down.”

  “The chapel is right up that hill. I’ll rest when I get up there.”

  “How long has the chapel been there?”

  “A hundred years.”

  Logan put his hand on her shoulder to guide her toward the boulder. “Then, chances are it’ll still be there thirty minutes from now.”

  It was a point that she couldn’t argue, so she walked over to the boulder and let him help her down to a sitting position. She crossed her legs and gave herself permission to rest.

  One knee on the ground, Logan knelt in front of her and opened his rucksack. He held out two high-energy protein bars for her to see.

  “Take your pick.”

  She chose the peanut-butter bar and gratefully accepted another bottle of water.

  “What else do you have in that thing?” she asked when he joined her on the boulder. “It’s like you’re carrying a mini convenience store on your back.”

  He opened the wrapper of his bar with his teeth. “Did you see the movie 127 Hours?”

  “Uh-uh...” She wished she had time for movies, but she didn’t.

  “It was about a rock climber who had to cut off his own arm.”

  “Oh!” She nodded. “I remember that—the guy in Utah, right?”

  “As a rock climber, first, it kind of scared the crap out of me, to be honest. But second, it reminded me that I have to be prepared because, if a freak accident like that could happen to that guy, a freak accident could happen to me.”

  Then he asked, “Feeling better?”

  “Much.” After eating the protein bar and taking a moment to rest, the light-headed feeling had passed.

  “Ready to get back to it?”

  Josephine nodded. “Sure.”

  Logan stood up and offered her his hand, which she accepted.

  “Thank you for talking me into taking a break—and feeding me.”

  “Anytime.” He hoisted the heavy backpack onto his shoulders.

  She had enjoyed it, as well. Sitting with Logan on that boulder, without another soul in sight, had been perfectly comfortable. It had taken her months to feel comfortable around Brice; he had always made her feel so nervous because he was so brilliant with the law. If she were to be honest with herself, sometimes Brice still made her feel a little anxious whenever they got into a conversation about California statutes or federal law. But with Logan, she was at total ease—not a single nerve in sight.

  What did that mean?

  Josephine forced her brain to stop trying to unravel meaningless life riddles, and refocus on finishing her trek up the steep hill. She leaned slightly forward, bent her knees, ignored the burning in her thighs and lungs, and willed her body to finish the last half of the hill quickly. At the top of the hill, Josephine threw back her head and let out a loud whoop to celebrate her accomplishment.

  “I made it!” she exclaimed happily.

  Logan joined her at the top of the final hill. She was glad to see that he was finally winded, too.

  “Now, that felt good...” He wiped the sweat off his brow with the back of his forearm. He smiled at her. “You’re a maniac.”

  Pleased, she asked, “I am?” No one had ever called her that before. Cautious and tenacious, yes. Maniac? Never.

  “I nearly had to sprint up that hill just to keep up with you.” He was impressed with her. “I’d really love to take you rock climbing one day.”

  For a moment, they both considered what he had just said. It sounded like he had asked her out on a date.

  Knowing that she had a serious boyfriend, Logan added, “You and Brice...”

  “I think I can safely say that it would be a definite ‘no’ for Brice.” Brice was an avid sportsman. And he was very skilled at many things: fencing, sailing, golfing. But rock climbing? That wouldn’t turn out well for anyone involved.

  “It’s not for everyone,” he agreed, walking beside her through a small clearing to the edge of a patch of trees and overgrown brush.

  “There it is!” Josephine pushed some branches out of her path and stepped over a fallen log. “See?”

  “That is too cool.” Logan looked through the branches of the trees and spotted the old chapel, tucked away in the hillside.

  He pulled a small machete out of his rucksack. “Let me get in front of you so I can cut a path for us.”

  She shook her head, an amused smile on her face. “Really? You brought a machete?”

  “Like I told you, I need to be prepared. I never know when I might have to perform an emergency amputation.” He stepped in front of her and started whacking away at the branches.

  “We’ll have none of that, sir.” She hung back, far away from the sharp blade.

  Logan seemed to relish clearing a path for them, and in no time at all, they were standing in front of the chapel. They stood together, silently and reverently, in front of the structure that her ancestor had built a hundred years before. It was a small building—much smaller than she remembered. But, she supposed, everything looked smaller when you looked at it again as an adult. And yet, it was just as magical as she remembered.

  “It looks like a little hobbit house, doesn’t it?” She asked him quietly. She didn’t know why she was whispering—it just felt right.

  Logan put away the machete. “The construction is incredible. It still looks solid as a rock.”

  The chapel was the size of a modern day one-car garage, with a steeple roof, stone foundation, and a curved, heavy wooden door. The shallow stone steps leading up to the chapel door were covered in moss, decomposing leaves, and twigs.

  Josephine ran her hand over the pitted wood of the chapel door. “I always loved this door—I can’t really believe that it’s still here...still on its hinges.”
>
  Logan checked the hinges. “They’re rusted through. If you want to go inside, it’s going to take some brute force.”

  “I’m going in.” There wasn’t any scenario in the equation that didn’t include her going inside the chapel.

  Together, they used their body weight and strength to force the door open. Logan slammed the side of his body into the wood, while she used her hands to push. Finally, after several attempts of prying the hinges free, there was a loud sound and the door cracked open.

  “Keep pushing!” Logan leaned harder into the door, using his feet to brace himself in place.

  The top door hinge broke under the pressure, popped off, and flew over her shoulder.

  “Whoa!” She ducked to the side. “That was close!”

  “You all right?”

  “Yeah...it just missed me. Can we get in?”

  “Almost.” He gave the door one last hard shove with his body and pushed it open wide enough for them to squeeze through.

  Logan stepped inside the dusty, cobweb-laden chapel first. It was dirty, and there were signs that animals had been inside of the structure, but it appeared to be safe.

  When she stepped inside of the chapel, it was like stepping back in time. Her heart felt it...her brain felt it...for just a split-second, she was transported to her childhood. This was the enchanted place where she had played and dreamed with her twin. They would spend from sunrise to sunset up on this mountain, perfectly content acting out every fantasy they could imagine.

  “Look—only one of the stained glass windows broke.” Josephine slowly walked along the narrow aisle that led up to a pulpit hand-carved by her father’s grandfather.

  On either side of the aisle, roughly hewn benches were tipped onto their sides. Originally, there had been four benches on either side of the aisle. Now, there were only five benches left. Birds had flown through the broken window and had made nests up in the rafters. Much like the chapel itself, the nests seemed to have been abandoned long ago.

  “What do you think?” she asked him.

  “I love this place,” Logan said immediately. His eyes were taking inventory. He’d spent a lot of time on jobs with his uncle and he had been personally involved with moving older structures.

  The moment she reached the pulpit, she started to brush the dirt and leaves off of it. She could see herself, so clear was the memory, standing behind the pulpit pretending to preach to an enthralled congregation.

  Her fingers found what they were searching for: her initials, carved into the top of the pulpit. “Can it be moved?”

  On the other side of the pulpit, he looked up at the tin roof and the beams holding it in place. He nodded slowly, thoughtfully. “Yes. It can.”

  “You’re serious.”

  “It can be done,” Logan said definitively.

  Her mind started to whirl with ideas. “If we moved it closer to the ranch, we could actually restore it!”

  “Absolutely.” He would love to have a hand in restoring the chapel.

  Face-to-face, with only the pulpit between them, they stood smiling at each other as if they had just uncovered a buried treasure. Josephine, exactly at that moment, noticed Logan’s eyes. Yes, she had seen his eyes before. But, she hadn’t really noticed how incredibly beautiful they were—such a dark, rich brown that they reminded her of expensive black satin.

  “What?” He asked her, in a half curious, half amused manner.

  His single-word question snapped her out of it—she had been unintentionally staring into his eyes. Once she realized that she had been mindlessly ogling him, she started to laugh.

  “Sorry—I was just thinking about something from when I was a kid.”

  “What’s that?”

  “When I was...oh, I don’t know...seven or eight...” Josephine walked out from behind the pulpit and joined Logan where he was standing.

  “I used to stand in this exact spot and pretend that I was getting married. Jordan and I took turns officiating the wedding and being the bride...” Josephine laughed softly and looked over at him. “You standing here just reminded me of that. I haven’t thought of that in years. And, of course, that was before I discovered Gloria Steinem when I was thirteen and swore off marriage entirely.”

  “But, Gloria Steinem did eventually get married,” Logan said thoughtfully.

  Brow wrinkled, Josephine asked, “How do you even know that?”

  “Hey, I’ll have you know I’m more than just a pretty face. I’m current with the cause, equal pay for equal work. The Lilly Ledbetter Law.”

  Josephine laughed. “I hate to say this out loud, but I wouldn’t take you for a feminist sympathizer.”

  “That’s okay. I know that I don’t exactly fit the image of a typical feminist. I’m a cop who looks like a muscle-head. But my mom was raised on Ms. magazine—so I pretty much had the chauvinist trained out of me at an early age.” Logan smiled at the thought and pulled out a professional-grade Nikon camera from his bag. “Let’s grab these shots so we can get you back by noon.”

  “Sure.” Josephine checked her watch with a nod. “Where do you want to start?”

  Chapter Five

  They both had similar work styles—slow, methodical, and thorough. Together, they captured detailed shots of the interior of the chapel, as well as the exterior and surrounding landscape. She had helped Logan take measurements before they started their hike down the mountain. Both of them were so excited about the prospect of moving the chapel that they discussed it nonstop all the way back down the mountain. By the time that they reached the gate, which signaled that the final leg of the journey was complete, it seemed to Josephine that the two of them had bonded. On the round trip to and from the chapel, she had unexpectedly made a connection with Logan. He felt like a friend.

  “Well...” Logan paused at the end of the path that led to her brother’s cabin. “I’m going to send my uncle these pictures and measurements so I can report back to Hank.”

  Josephine nodded toward her sister, who had set up her easels and paints on the porch and was painting a new picture for her next gallery show. “It looks like Jordan is waiting for me.”

  They parted ways. After he had taken a few steps away from her, Logan stopped and turned to look at her.

  “Hey...” he called out to her.

  Josephine slowed down and glanced back at him.

  “Thanks for being my guide today.”

  She smiled a small smile. “I enjoyed it.”

  For a second time, they parted ways and Josephine had an odd feeling in the pit of her stomach as she approached her sister. Jordan looked tense and irritated, when she normally looked happy when she painted. She was also, Josephine noted, biting on her lower lip, which was what she did whenever she was upset or ticked off.

  “Hey.” Josephine slowly climbed the stairs to the front porch.

  “Hey...” Jordan put down her paintbrush and moved to the porch swing. “How’d the chapel look?”

  Josephine perched on the porch railing opposite the swing. “It’s pretty rough on the inside, but salvageable. Logan believes the structure’s sound—you know, Dad has it in his head to move it.”

  “Mom told me. Cool idea.”

  “Logan’s pretty certain that it can be moved.” Josephine wrapped her arm around the wooden post to keep her balance.

  “He’s a great guy, right? He’s been a huge part of our support system.”

  Her sister was stalling. Whatever was on her mind, it had to be bad. Outspoken Jordan didn’t often beat around the bush.

  “So, have we done enough small talking yet?” Josephine asked her twin pointedly.

  Her sister stared at her and they didn’t need words between them. A couple of seconds later, Jordan frowned, shook her head, and pulled her phone out of the fron
t pocket of her shorts. Silently, Jordan looked down at the phone before she looked at her.

  “I saw something on Instagram this morning.”

  Josephine wasn’t sure where this was heading, but her stomach already didn’t like it. There was an uncomfortable, unusual, anxious quivering in her belly. It was if her body knew something that her mind hadn’t yet figured out.

  “I didn’t know if I should show it to you or not, but here...” Jordan uncurled her long, pale legs, stood up, and held out her phone to her.

  Josephine met her sister’s angry eyes and then took the phone from her. When she saw the picture on Jordan’s phone, her arm tightened around the post. She hugged the post so tightly, in fact, that the wood dug painfully into her skin.

  “Where was this taken? Do you know?”

  “At a charity event.”

  She had been with Brice when he had been measured for that tuxedo, but this photograph was the first time she had seen him wear it. It fit beautifully. But then again, everything fit Brice beautifully. Nature had been very kind to him—he was tall with nice shoulders and golden-boy good looks. The woman beside him—her arm linked with his, her hand on his sleeve, her body leaned intimately into his—was stunning. She had shoulder-length dark hair, flawless olive skin, and full red lips. Josephine wished she could put her into the “bimbo” category, but this woman had intelligent eyes and a classic, elegant style.

  She handed the phone back to Jordan. “Well, I suppose we know why he’s not coming to the wedding.”

  “That’s it?” Jordan slipped the phone back into her pocket.

  Josephine slid off the railing and tugged the legs of her shorts down. “That’s it.”

  “I was right to tell you, I think,” her sister said defensively.

  “Of course you were.” She hugged Jordan to reassure her. “I’m going to go freshen up and then we’ll work on the wedding, okay?”

  “Wait a minute, Jo. Why are you acting like a Stepford Wife?” her sister asked with a shake of her head. “You should be really pissed right now, and the fact that you’re not is kind of freakin’ me out...”