by Liz Isaacson
“Megan?”
“Hmm?” She swung her gaze toward him in slow motion, like she’d been caught in quicksand. Her muscles felt encased in the stuff, and when he locked his eyes on hers, everything in the world turned brighter. Moved swifter. Seemed better.
“Where do you want me?”
Again, her mind misfired. “Um, the church?”
“Right, the church.” His husky voice carried a playful note. His pinky hooked hers; he shuffled closer. “Maybe I should start by making a list of supplies I’ll need to get started.”
Megan startled, her brain finally sending messages to the rest of her body. “A list! I have a list of supplies.” She twisted toward the church building. “I’ll go grab it. Can we go today?”
“I don’t see why not.” He dropped her hand and stepped back a bit.
“Be right back.” Megan cursed herself for turning stupid in front of Landon just because he added a tool belt to his ensemble. But she’d never been so happy to need some repair work done, and she wondered if she could “accidentally” break something while she got the supply list to keep him here longer.
Landon ignored his phone while he was with Megan. He’d made an offer on the horse ranch in Utah, and Shelly had come back with a counteroffer while he’d sat in his truck, waiting to hear from Megan.
Two million was still too much for Brush Creek, even if Landon did agree that the barns and training facilities were immaculate. He wanted her to come down at least another two hundred thousand dollars. He’d have to buy equipment, and horses, and find a way to pay a small staff of cowhands.
His stomach had tightened and released every time he’d felt his phone vibrate, so he’d finally set it to completely silent. He wanted to throw it in the river as he drove back to the ranch. As Megan walked away, he let his gaze linger on her until she disappeared into the church.
Then he checked his phone. Shelly had said she’d check with the owners. She wanted to know what his absolute highest price was.
He sent off his original offer, along with I’m sorry. That’s as high as I can go. It’s cash.
Megan returned, a piece of paper flapping in the breeze and a beautiful smile on her face.
“Ready?” he asked.
“I guess we’ll see.”
He unlocked the truck and she climbed in his side, scooting over only barely far enough to leave him room to drive. A tickle started in the back of his throat, and a flush worked its way up his neck. Happiness that tasted very similar to how he’d felt with Lauren filled him as he settled next to her.
“Do you have an idea of what project you want me to begin with?”
“I’m thinking the cosmetic things in the chapel. The dings, the scratches, the painting, the stained glass window.” She glanced at the paper as a sense of unease swept through him with the strength of a swift river. “So we’ll need brushes and stain and sandpaper….”
“And manpower,” he said.
“Manpower?”
“Maybe we can organize a community service project to come help clean that window,” he mused. “I’ve been reading about it online, and it seems like it’s a job that has to be done by hand.”
“You’ve been reading about it online?”
“Yeah.”
She didn’t respond, and he cut a glance in her direction. He found a small smile on her face as she tucked her curls behind her ear. “I guess you like that I’ve been reading about it online.” He chuckled as he put his hand in hers. “I’m gonna get that church lookin’ like new.”
And if he had to spend the next several weeks with Megan to do it? Even better, in Landon’s opinion.
Sunday morning dawned hot, though the warmer temperatures in Montana usually didn’t happen until July. Or maybe Landon was the only one sweating through his sheets. Either way, he rose about the same time as the sun, already wishing for a cold shower and he hadn’t even seen Megan yet.
Working with her these past few days had been a sweet experience. He’d learned about her younger sister, the death of her mother, the depth of her patience as she worked with several elderly groups of men and women helping her to organize her community outreach programs.
He’d watched her enthusiasm for the people and programs blossom, and he’d gotten joy from simply listening to her talk about what she was doing while he nailed new planks in place, or sanded out scratches, or swiped new stain onto the pulpit.
He’d gotten a lot done in only a few days, and he couldn’t wait to see the chapel in all its new glory. Megan had asked her father to put out a call to the congregation today for next Saturday’s stained glass window cleaning, and Landon couldn’t wait to see how that would transform their Sunday worship services.
With church still several hours off, he headed out to do the early morning chores. He found Jace in the barn, brushing down his horse.
“Mornin’,” the foreman said. “What’re you doin’ up? You’re not on chores this morning.”
“Yeah, I traded with Caleb for next Saturday.”
“Oh, ’cause you’re going to see your new girlfriend.”
Landon jerked his head toward Jace. “She isn’t my girlfriend.”
He grinned. “Yet.”
Landon sighed, the sound half annoyed and half defeated. “I don’t think she’s ready for that yet.”
“Are you?” Jace didn’t look up from Flint’s legs.
“Most days I think I am.”
“Today?”
“Sure, today’s a great day.” He started pitching out the old hay in Crossfire’s stall. “Found another ranch in Utah.”
“Sorry about Brush Creek.”
Landon shrugged, but Jace didn’t see it. “Wasn’t meant to be.”
“Megan should be happy about that.”
Landon pressed his lips into a thin line and kept quiet. He hadn’t told her about the failed offer on the horse ranch. He wasn’t sure why. He didn’t want to admit that he wasn’t as ready for a new girlfriend as he claimed to be. Didn’t want to see the joyful light in her eyes. Didn’t want to think that maybe he should just stay in Montana.
The unsettled feeling he’d had for months remained. “Did you ever consider leavin’ Horseshoe Home?” he asked. “You know, after what happened with Wendy?”
“Not really,” Jace said. “She’d left, you know? And I grew up on this ranch.”
“There’s just so much more to the world,” Landon said. “Maybe I should try Texas.”
“You’ve always said you’d rather die than go to Texas. The heat, remember?”
“Yeah, but Tom says it’s not so bad.”
Jace draped his arms over the fence line between them. “Tom did love Texas. But he came home to Montana.”
Landon quirked one eyebrow and got back to work. “I’ll keep lookin’.”
“Trust your gut,” Jace said as he finished up and placed the currycomb on the shelf outside the stall. “She’s been with you for thirty years, and she won’t let you down.”
Landon lifted the pitchfork to show he’d heard, and Jace left the barn. Left Landon to wonder how exactly, his gut would let him know what to do.
Hours later, he sat in the pew next to his sister and Jace, his right knee bouncing like he’d put jumping beans in his boots.
“Calm down,” Belle hissed. “What’s got you all riled up?”
“Megan’s sittin’ with him today.” Jace leaned forward on the other side of Belle.
“Sh.” Landon sent a glare in Jace’s direction.
“Oh yeah?” His sister’s eyes held equal parts curiosity and hope.
“Don’t act like you don’t know,” Landon whispered to his sister. “Surely she’s called you and told you all about how I’ve been holdin’ her hand.”
Belle’s smile appeared instantly. “She has not.” She swiveled toward Jace and back to Landon, pure joy on her face. “You’ve been holding her hand?” She leaned closer. “Kissy wissy?”
“Stop it,” he said almos
t out loud. The fact that Megan hadn’t been gossiping with his sister about her new relationship with Landon made comfort thread through him, the way the lilting breeze wove through the ponderosas.
Megan slid onto the pew next to him. “Good morning.”
He tucked her into his side by quickly lifting his arm and settling it over her shoulders. She crossed her legs, further leaning into his chest—right where he wanted her—and tugged at the bottom of her skirt to keep it from riding too high. He’d learned she favored classic colors—black, navy, brown—and floral prints to match her jasminy scent. She’d brought him a bottle of lemon oil to infuse in his kitchen and a vial of lavender oil to rub on his temples before he went to bed at night.
He’d mentioned casually that he had a hard time falling asleep, and she said the lavender would help. He’d never paid much attention to anything outside the traditional health care system, and essential oils were, well, non-essential.
Thankfully, she’d never asked if he’d used the oils. He was glad he hadn’t had to lie. The bottles sat on his dresser; maybe one day he’d use them. But the reason he’d been having trouble falling asleep wasn’t because he needed lavender oil on his temples. It was because Megan starred in his thoughts and it wasn’t until he tamed them into submission that he could settle to sleep.
Her fingers landed on his thigh, and he darn near jumped out of his seat. A current zipped through his body, lighting every muscle on fire. He’d often wondered how a forest fire spread so quickly, but now he knew. All it took was one little spark, one touch, and everything combusted.
“Dad said he’d announce about the stained glass window service project.” Her breath wafted across his neck, and Landon pressed her closer to him.
“Great.” His lips skimmed her temple just as the pastor stood to begin the services. Good thing, too, because Landon wasn’t sure if he could contain the waterfall of desire tumbling through him without a distraction.
9
The sermon wasn’t a suitable distraction. Landon didn’t hear a word the preacher said, consumed with Megan as he was. Several things gnawed at him. First, the horse ranch in Utah that had fallen through. She deserved to know. Second, the new ranch he wanted to go look at that next weekend—the same Saturday as the stained glass window service project. Third, the rapid way his heart beat every time he thought about kissing Megan.
At this point, he wasn’t worried about his affections being reciprocated. No, what plagued him was how to kiss her without it coming too soon, or too late, or too sloppy, or too rushed.
Despite what most women thought about him, Landon wasn’t terribly experienced when it came to girls. He’d spent seven years wooing bulls, not females. And in the five years since he’d quit, he’d only dated a handful of women, especially since he’d lost three years of that time to Lauren.
Pastor Palmer finished and Landon stood with everyone else to sing the closing hymn. Megan tucked her arm into his and affection rushed through him. Before the song ended, he leaned over and whispered, “You want to come to lunch out on the ranch?”
She tilted her head back to look at him, and her mouth came within kissing distance. All he had to do was close the gap. Six tiny inches….
“You can cook?”
“Heavens, no.” He grinned as her shock melted into something softer. “Belle feeds me on Sundays. She’ll feed you too.”
“Are you sure?”
“Sure I’m sure.” He knew Belle wouldn’t mind. In fact, he was probably setting himself up for a world of hurt by inviting Megan to lunch. But the thought of leaving her already made his lungs seize.
The service ended, and Landon turned toward Belle. “Megan can come to lunch, right?”
Belle’s smile could only be categorized as one the Mad Hatter might wear. “Sure she can.”
“Who’s comin’ to lunch?” Jace practically yelled.
“No one. Sh.” Belle tossed him a disgruntled look while Landon tried to usher Megan out of the pew and into the aisle. Yeah, maybe taking her to the ranch for lunch had been a very bad idea.
Landon took Megan to his cabin instead of following Jace and Belle into theirs. The ride out to the ranch had been charged, with somewhat stilted conversation between Megan and the others. Landon found he didn’t have much to contribute to the conversation about a sermon he hadn’t actually heard.
“I’ve got a bench out back,” he said, moving through the space quickly. He wasn’t entirely sure when he’d last cleaned anything, and he didn’t want to stay in the house on such a pretty summer day anyway.
Megan tucked her feet under her body as she tucked herself into his side. He spread his arm around her, the feel of her next to him comforting and peaceful.
“The ranch in Utah is a no-go,” he said to break the silence.
She stiffened, straightened to look up at him. “Oh, no. What happened?”
“They wouldn’t come down on the price.” The weight of her gaze on the side of his face made his insides writhe. “What?” He finally trained his eyes on her.
“You loved that place.”
He cocked his head at her. “How did you know I loved that place?”
“I could hear it in your voice. See it in your face.”
Great. So he was emotionally transparent. He took a deep breath to steady himself. “I’ll find something else.”
“So you’re still going to look?”
He gazed into the Montana wilderness behind his cabin. How many times had he sat here on a warm summer night? How many times had he brought his coffee to this exact spot and watched the sun rise? Had the view ever gotten tiresome?
He’d lost count years ago, and he loved Montana as much now as he always had. And yet….
It was that and yet that kept his soul in constant turmoil. “There’s something else out there for me, Megan. I can feel it.” He hadn’t meant to hush his voice, but it came out soft and somber anyway.
She settled back into him, her own eyes on the horizon now. He let her have the silence, because he needed it too.
All he could come up with was: Well, there might be someone right here for you.
And he didn’t know how to reconcile the need he’d felt to find his own ranch somewhere else with his growing feelings for Megan. She was here; he felt like he should leave.
But she’s left Montana before…. Landon let the thought hang there, because Jace texted and said lunch was ready.
Megan hadn’t felt at home—truly at home—in Gold Valley until she went out to the ranch with Landon. Eating lunch with Belle and Jace had been so enjoyable that Megan dreaded the following Sunday when she’d surely have to go to her father’s house and make her usual grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup.
“Thanks for inviting me,” she told Landon as he drove her down the canyon. “That was really fun.”
His fingers on hers tightened. “Glad you liked it. My sister can be….”
“She’s Belle,” Megan said. “I know her.” She leaned her cheek against Landon’s bicep, her heart suddenly pumping twice as fast. Would he walk her up to her apartment? Kiss her? Call her later?
Her phone broke into her thoughts with the shrill ring of an old-fashioned phone. “That’s a client,” she murmured as she dug the phone out of her purse and checked it. “It’s Sterling Maughan.” She swiped open the call. “Good evening, Sterling.”
A smile poured onto her face as he started speaking about his upcoming wedding. He and his fiancé, Norah, were getting married at the church at the end of the month. “Yes,” she assured him. “My father’s planning on it. We have you on the schedule, and your florist has already been in touch with me.”
She answered his few questions, asked him some of her own about the rooms he needed prepped, who the photographer would be and if he wanted her to reach out to them for a tour, and then she said, “And we’re getting that stained glass window cleaned this week, so your ceremony should be just beautiful.”
Next to he
r, Landon’s muscles bunched. She glanced at him but he kept his eyes on the winding road. Still, his fingers flexed and re-gripped the steering wheel a bit too aggressively.
“Talk to you soon,” she told Sterling and hung up, a heavy exhale leaving her lips. “Weddings are stressful.”
“I have to talk to you about the stained glass window,” Landon said.
“What about it?” She slid her fingertips down his forearm, an obvious invitation for him to release the steering wheel and hold her hand instead. He didn’t.
“I found another ranch I want to go see.” He blipped his eyes to her and back to the road, not long enough to even see her. “They want me to come this weekend.”
Everything inside her crashed to the ground, as if her hopes, fantasies, and dreams had been flying on a jet that had suddenly lost all its engines. “Oh.” She sat back and let her hands fall into her lap. In situations like these, her mind usually sped a mile every second. Now, though, only numbness spread through her, turning her dumb again.
“I’ll go next weekend,” he said.
“No—”
“Yes.” He dropped his hand to hers and cupped her fingers. “I can go anytime. It doesn’t have to be this weekend. I was just thinking about it.”
Megan didn’t quite know what to say. A sick feeling churned in her stomach when she thought about competing with a ranch.
“So I’ll go next weekend?” he asked.
“Yes, if you can,” she answered. “I would appreciate it.”
His lips pressed against her forehead, a sweet gesture he’d done a couple of times lately. The gentle way he made her feel cherished caused her anxiety to settle a few notches, but it didn’t disappear completely. And she wanted those lips on hers, not her temple.
“Tell me about this new place,” she said to keep herself preoccupied and thinking about the right things.
“It’s in central Utah,” he said. “Near the Capitol Reef National Park area. Seems to be closer to civilization than Brush Creek.”
