If Ever I Would Leave You: A Montana Rescue Prequel

by Susan May Warren

  Table of Contents

  If Ever I Would Leave You

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Author's Note

  Wild Montana Skies

  Copyright

  If Ever I Would Leave You

  Montana Rescue Prequel

  Susan May Warren

  Chapter 1

  “Watching you die is the last thing I want to do on a Saturday morning.”

  Sierra said it in a low mutter, nearly under her breath, but Ian heard it anyway, a slash across his chest, right between the ribs.

  Honestly, he hadn’t expected quite so much vehemence from his assistant to his invitation to watch him skydive tomorrow. Not that she’d ever been interested in the stories he’d brought home after climbing one of the local peaks, or scuba diving in Australia, or even simply taking a ride in the Vanquish, presently sitting under a cover in his garage.

  But this was different. This time he was jumping over his own property. And no, he didn’t plan on dying.

  “Sierra, I’ll be fine,” he said, trying to keep his voice casual as he led Maximus toward the barn. The sleek black Fox Trotter blew out a breath, sweaty from the ride home through the back field where Ian’s hired men were finishing raking and baling hay. He didn’t need to supervise—Kade, his ranch manager, had the work well in hand. He’d simply been lured by the smell of fresh-cut hay, the rise of the gray razorback mountains edging Glacier National Park to the east, and the arch of the unblemished blue sky over his thirty thousand acres.

  The wide open spaces untwisted his brain, made him feel like he’d actually healed the past, found his fresh start.

  “This is your first solo jump…” Sierra shook her head, her mouth a grim line that suggested the rest. She always looked so put together, her dark hair pulled back into a sleek bun. She wore a green shirtdress today, formless, but clingy enough to emphasize her curves, and um, maybe he shouldn’t be paying such close attention. But the color only managed to stir up the green in her hazel eyes and for a second he found himself caught there, in her gaze that bore too much worry.

  Worry.

  As if she cared.

  Oh, shoot—of course she cared. After all, he was her employer.

  “I would just prefer to know about it after you’re safely on the ground,” she continued.

  Ian unbuckled the saddle, trying to ignore how the summer wind stirred her fragrance to him, catching a few wisps of her hair around her face. Rustled the contract she held in her hand, against her folder. “Really, Sierra—I know what I’m doing.”

  “I’m sure you do, Mr. Shaw.” She gave him another tight-lipped smile.

  Mr. Shaw. How he longed to hear his name on her lips, to tear down the barrier between them—but then again, probably he should be thankful for her professionalism.

  He lifted the saddle and blankets off the horse, carried them over to a saddle rack. “Okay, but if you change your mind—”

  “If you’d sign these please—oh!” The wind lifted the papers, scattered them out of her hands, along the ground and through the gate, into the nearby pasture.

  She dropped her folder, the pen, and took off after the errant sheets.

  He settled the saddle on the rack then ran after the closest paper. He stepped on it, picked it up, grabbed another.

  Didn’t look up in time to stop Sierra from ducking through the gate into the pasture after more runaway sheets.

  “Sierra, don’t—!”

  But maybe Kade hadn’t moved Rooster into the nearby field yet. And even if he had, the bull usually hung around the back of the pasture, eyeing the females.

  Or not, because Ian’s shouting must have roused the animal. It appeared just at the top of the knoll overlooking the Shaw ranch house. And the sixteen hundred pound coal-black Angus bull had figured out that someone had invaded his space.

  Not unlike Ian’s disposition before Sierra stepped into his world. Crabby, dark, purposeless. Territorial.

  “Sierra!”

  Ian’s voice hung in the languid morning air. He was already moving, instinct propelling him back to Maximus.

  Sierra looked around, as if hearing him.

  Sixty feet away, Rooster picked up his pace, jogging toward Sierra, who returned to chasing down his stupid contract. Dedication—Sierra had it in spades, and he regretted asking her to stay late, get the contract finished today.

  Sierra didn’t have a hope of surviving the bull’s hooves. Even a nudge from the animal could break every bone in her body.

  If God was on his side—or rather, Sierra’s side, because Ian wasn’t kidding himself—then he’d get there first.

  He grabbed Maximus’s mane and swung himself up, bareback. “Yah!”

  Ian didn’t even slow as he approached the fencing, sure that Maximus could clear it. He felt the horse’s muscles bunch, and gave the animal the right encouragement.

  Max flew over the fence, the stallion worth every penny Ian had paid for him.

  “Sierra!” Ian shouted again and this time she turned, saw him.

  “What are you doing—?”

  Rooster had picked up his pace, lumbering toward her like a locomotive.

  “Come here, to me!” Ian could just scoop her up, throw her behind him, and race back out of the pen.

  She frowned, however, and because timing had never been his friend, right then Rooster moaned, a low bellow of warning.

  Sierra turned and spotted the massive black beast, a ring in his wide nose, froth rimming his mouth, huffing and snorting.

  Rooster lowered his head.

  “Run to me!”

  But she stood, paralyzed, and Ian did the quick math. He could reach her in time, but picking her up, getting her behind him—

  Rooster would hit the jackpot—three intruders to bully, trample.

  Avenge for trespassing.

  Except, Ian had Max, who’d never liked the bull, the alpha stallion in him kicking in whenever he came near Rooster.

  Fight or flight, both would give Ian a few precious seconds.

  He rose up on the horse’s withers, then in one quick movement, swung himself onto the ground. Landed in a run while Max galloped in to intercept.

  Ian’s momentum took him straight into Sierra. He hooked her around the waist, leaping off the knoll, pulling her against himself as he launched into the tall grass.

  He landed hard, his arms around her as his horse collided with the bull ten feet away. The stallion reared, pawing, and Rooster stopped, snorting, angry.

  Ian didn’t even stop to linger, to let the fact that he held, for the briefest moment, Sierra against him, her body trembling in his arms.

  He pushed her up, found his feet, and grabbed her hand. “Run!”

  Kade was just driving in with the ranch truck and must have caught sight of the calamity because he angled straight for the gate.

  The bull bellowed, and Ian glanced over his shoulder, spotted the moment the animal broke away from brave Max. His powerful forelegs churned up earth as he charged.

  Ian caught Sierra’s terrified gaze a split second as he yanked her around, in front of him. Her fear crested over and she opened her mouth and screamed, something bloodcurdling and high, rending the air as she ran.

  Hooves pounded behind him and Ian realized he was racing his horse to safety, too.

  Kade opened the gate, stepped through the opening, holding an electric prod, his expression fierce. He didn’t have to say the word.

  Run.
>
  Ian grabbed Sierra around the waist and lunged for the gate, diving through the opening just ahead of Maximus, who nearly trampled him. Ian hit the ground, pulling Sierra against him again, his shoulder blooming with heat as he took the brunt of the crash.

  She landed, her back against him, curled in a ball, breathing hard.

  Kade shouted, slammed the gate shut, the prod sizzling in warning against the frothing animal.

  For a second Ian just sprawled there, breathing, trying to catch up with his heart. A fist wrapped around his chest, wouldn’t let go.

  He still had his arms around Sierra, and now, felt her entire body shake. “Sierra,” he said, his voice broken with the exertion of breathing, “are you hurt?”

  She pressed her hands against her face, shook her head. “Oh…oh—”

  “Shh. It’s okay.”

  “It’s not okay!” She sat up then, rounded on him and yeah, she’d been crying, her face red, a scrape on her jaw where she’d scrubbed it on the ground. “I nearly got us killed! I know better than to get in a field with a bull!”

  He didn’t comment because she had certainly signed up to work for him without knowing all the dangers. Or maybe, rather, he’d been the oblivious one when she’d walked into his office under the word-of-mouth recommendation of his neighbor, Chet King.

  Never did he imagine that he’d care about someone again the way he cared for Sierra Rose.

  “Oh, Mr. Shaw, are you okay?” Kade reached down, extended his hand.

  “I’m fine.” Except when Ian reached up to grasp Kade’s hand, his shoulder begged to argue, a deep burn penetrating the muscle. He held in a wince as he climbed from the ground.

  He turned to Sierra to help her up. But she was staring at him, white-faced, her hazel-green eyes wide, wet with tears. “I’m so sorry, Ian.”

  For a second, the world dropped away, the adrenaline of the escape, the burn in his shoulder, even the residual fear that still clung to his body like a burr.

  Ian.

  More, Sierra sat there, the look in her eyes telling him everything he longed for but couldn’t have.

  Because how could he tell his assistant that he was in love with her? Or, hope that she could love him back?

  Aside from breaking a thousand taboos, Ian had had his chance at love, at happy endings, and managed to foul it up.

  Push away the people he loved.

  No, he should be happy with the fact that this time they’d all survived. Because he was no fool—despite his successes, his attempts at redemption, one of these days, life was going to catch up to him. Turn on him.

  And despite his best efforts, he’d lose everything he loved.

  Sierra bit her lip as she climbed to her feet. She dusted herself off and turned away, leaving only her profile, her dark hair caught in the wind. With everything inside him he restrained himself from walking over, taking her in his arms.

  “I’ll reprint those contracts,” she said weakly.

  “Are you kidding me?” Ian said. “Go home. I think we’ve had enough excitement today.”

  She offered a wan smile, nodded. “See you Monday.”

  “So, really, you’re not going to watch me jump tomorrow, huh? Even after I saved your life?”

  She gave him a long, enigmatic look, something he couldn’t read, and his heart lodged in his chest. Please—

  “Try not to die,” she said. But she chased it with a smile before she turned and headed back to the house.

  And he made a promise, right then, to live.

  “He saved your life?”

  Sierra stared at her sister, her words jolting her out of the memory of feeling Ian’s amazing, muscled arms around her as he launched them to safety only five feet from the lethal hooves of his terrifying bull. He insisted on keeping the beast pastured near his house like the animal might be a reflection of his successes. Or personality, because when Ian got it in his head that he wanted to do something, he ran people down to make it happen.

  No matter who got hurt, including himself.

  “I just stood there, trying not to dissolve into an ugly puddle.” Sierra sat across from Willow in the Summit Cafe. The local hangout made the best malts on the planet, not to mention hand-crafted burgers and homemade pie. With sports memorabilia from the local teams on the walls and specials named after hikes from the nearby Glacier National Park, the place had landed on a few top-ten lists when visiting Mercy Falls. Sierra knew it as the place to nurse her woes with a decadent chocolate malt.

  Frankly, she was still early into her ranting, still trying to catch her breath, to shake herself free from the residue of her nightmare—or maybe a long buried dream, especially when she remembered the way Ian had looked at her, so much concern in his expression.

  As if he cared for her.

  Of course he did—she managed his entire life, right?

  “And you didn’t leap back into his arms? Sierra, have you not read one romance novel? You missed the perfect opportunity to declare your undying love.” Willow stirred her O-rings into a concoction of mayonnaise and ketchup. She wore a sleeveless lace shirt and a pair of cut-off jeans and Converse tennis shoes. With her long brown hair braided and tied back in a bandanna, she looked every inch the nineteen-year-old trail guide who guided tourists into the backwoods of the park.

  “What? No, Willow. I don’t live in your fairytale world where Cinderella gets the prince.”

  “You should. It’s nice here. Besides, don’t act stupid. I know how you feel about Ian Shaw.”

  “Mr. Shaw. He’s my boss.”

  “He’s your dream man. Are you kidding me?” Willow picked up a napkin to wipe her fingers. “Six foot two, reddish-black hair, blue eyes, and the man works out every day, not to mention he could buy Montana with his disposable income.”

  “Willow, I’m not that shallow.”

  Willow held up her hand. “Okay, how about the fact he insists on working his cattle along with Kade and the rest of his hired men?”

  “That’s only because he was a real cowboy in high school, working as a hired man on a ranch in Texas.”

  “Of course he was. What hasn’t Ian Shaw done? Pilot, cowboy, engineer, inventor, scuba diver, mountain climber, skier—the man has Tony Stark written all over him. All he’s missing is the iron suit.” Willow leaned forward. “And you, Sierra, are his Pepper.”

  Heat filled her, but she brushed off the words. “If I remember correctly, Pepper left Iron Man because he risked his life too much.” Which was exactly what would happen—she felt it in her bones. Of course Ian had rescued her—he lived for adrenaline and danger. Hence his stupid skydiving stunt scheduled for tomorrow morning. But someday he wouldn’t escape, and she’d be left to pick up the pieces.

  “No, Pepper has her own suit of armor that she uses to save the world,” Willow said. “You need to read the comics, not just watch the movies.”

  Sierra offered a smile. “That’s what Mom had you reading for your home-school curriculum at the commune?”

  Six years younger than Sierra, Willow was the product of her mother’s domestic years, when she’d settled down with a local handyman. A regular guy, Jackson McTavish became like a father to Sierra, feeding love to a child who’d never met her real father. And then tragedy struck—Jackson found Jesus and proposed to her mother, who promptly kicked him out for the audacious idea that they seal their relationship with a promise.

  Brokenhearted, Jackson joined the military and Sierra’s mother moved the girls to a commune north of Mercy Falls. And, after Sierra, who’d driven them to school every day, graduated, her mother pulled Willow out of school in favor of homeschooling.

  Sierra knew her sister felt abandoned when Sierra moved to Mercy Falls. As soon as Willow turned seventeen, she moved in with her big sister.

  “One of the guys at the commune was a huge fan,” Willow said. “I read the entire series. But here’s the important part. We both know that Ian needs you, even if he won’t say it. He’s probably
in love with you, too.”

  “I promise you, Ian is not interested in adding a plus-one to his life.”

  “He made room for Esme, didn’t he? You even said that Ian changed after he took in his niece.”

  He had changed over the past year since he’d taken over custody of his then sixteen-year-old niece from his disastrous sister.

  “Yes, but that’s different. Esme is family. He dotes on her—spoils her rotten. I think she’s still pretty overwhelmed.”

  “Wouldn’t you be if we had a rich uncle swoop in, bring us to his fairytale ranch, give us the world?”

  The wish for a happily ever after ending in Willow’s eyes made Sierra hurt.

  “Thankfully, it’s worked out. But I’m telling you—Ian is a closed book. He has secrets that even I don’t know. And demons he won’t share.” Demons that kept him up at night, slamming at the hanging bag in his personal gym. Or made him climb mountains, as if to give him a new view on life. Or even, push him into his next stupid adventure—skydiving.

  She couldn’t believe he’d asked her to watch him risk his handsome neck.

  Uh, no. Because if she nearly lost her heart to him today, barely stopped herself from flinging herself into his arms, letting her panic and blind relief trample her common sense, what might she do tomorrow when she watched him fly?

  Iron Man, indeed. The man would fall from the sky and she’d stand there, watching him die.

  “The problem is, Ian never does anything halfway—he’s like a dog with a bone when he puts his mind to something.”

  “Hence, his billions,” Willow said.

  “Yeah, maybe. But he’s too hard on himself. He refuses to back down from a challenge, even his own.”

  “Sounds like someone else I know,” Willow said, finishing her O-rings.

  “I’m not driven like that.”

  Willow said nothing.

  “I just don’t want to let him down. So yeah, I work hard. And it’s a great job, Willow. I’m not going to screw it up by falling in love with my boss.”

  Willow raised an eyebrow.

  “Really. Whatever feelings I might have aren’t worth risking my job. I am just his assistant, and I’ll never be more than that. I can’t think of him as Ian—he has to be Mr. Shaw. Period, end of conversation.”